The Reading List(47)

Back in the library, Aleisha wiped a tear from her cheek. Crap, she said to herself, as she spotted Mr P wandering in. He was smiling so widely. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to be chirpy right now. Hassan, so young and kind, and his friend Amir were running around in her mind – but there was Dean too, encroaching, bringing her back to her own life.

‘Hello!’ he said, wandering up to her desk. ‘I’ve finished this one too!’ He held Rebecca aloft.

Aleisha tried to force a smile onto her face, but she felt her bottom lip drop and knew there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Hi, Mr P!’

‘Aleisha,’ he said, softly. ‘Are you okay, beta?’

Aleisha felt the lump rise up in her throat again. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, she thought to herself.

‘Yeah, absolutely. Just finished reading a book, a sad one. I’m all right.’ She cleared her throat, tried to deepen her voice.

Mr P leaned awkwardly over the desk and tapped her gently on the shoulder. ‘There, there, it’s okay, beta,’ he said, his voice soft and soothing. ‘My daughter Deepali looks just like that when she’s trying to pretend she’s okay but she isn’t! She was always like that as a teenager. I’m okay. Leave me alone, Dad. I’m fine!’ Mr P chuckled. ‘It is okay to say you are sad when you are. These books can be very sad, can’t they? I once read a book that made me cry lots and lots.’

‘What was it?’ Aleisha was doing all she could to keep her voice even.

‘The Time Traveler’s Wife,’ he said, his voice catching. ‘We found it under my wife’s bed after she passed away. Reading it made me feel closer to her; it made me realize my loss as well.’ His eyes drifted away for a moment, and his melancholy only added to the pain in her throbbing forehead.

‘I … I wanted to talk to you about Rebecca but maybe we save it for another day? I would like to pick up another book, though. What is this book that has upset you?’

Aleisha held it up.

‘The. Kite. Runner,’ Mr P read slowly, squinting.

Aleisha nodded her head frantically. ‘I mean, yeah, I would so love you to read it. I need to talk to someone about it!’

His eyes lit up. ‘You want to talk to me about it?’ he asked, quietly. ‘Let me take that one out in that case. I would love to. And thank you for Rebecca. It has made me think a lot about things, although I don’t know if I liked it.’

‘You didn’t like it? Too spooky? I found it pretty creepy. That big old house, that ghost. Terrifying!’

‘No … it, it was more that it was a little unkind. I don’t believe in remarrying, not really. So modern.’

She laughed aloud. ‘Mr P, I don’t think the book was about remarrying, you know? And I think this book was written years ago.’

‘It seemed to be all about remarrying to me.’ He looked down at his shoes.

‘Hmm,’ Aleisha said, checking The Kite Runner out with Mr P’s library card. ‘I guess books say different things to different people.’

‘You know, Miss Aleisha,’ Mr P stood up tall. ‘I would never, ever remarry.’

Aleisha tried to hide a smile. ‘But what if you found the right lady, Mr P?’ She quite enjoyed teasing him, until his eyes visibily widened and his jaw dropped a little; he wasn’t taking this well.

‘What on earth do you mean, young lady!’ Mr P’s voice jumped two octaves higher. ‘There is only ever one true love for a person.’

‘Right, if you say so,’ Aleisha said, plonking The Kite Runner on the desk in front of her. Her mind flew back to Hassan and Amir. It felt weird, handing it over … She felt possessive, protective, over it. But when she looked up at Mr P’s face, now slightly less outraged, she could see the eagerness in his eyes. ‘Look,’ she said to him. ‘I’ve got to be straight with you – this is really, really hard to read; like, not difficult, but it’s deep. So, so deep, okay?’

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve had deep in my life, I think I can do it.’ He smiled broadly. She could tell he was waiting for her to ask a question, so he could impart some Atticus wisdom.

‘Like what, Mr P?’ she indulged him.

‘Well,’ his eyes looked up to the ceiling. ‘I wasn’t born here, you know? I left my home, Kenya, behind to come here, to raise my children, to bring them opportunities. It was hard, settling in, always being different.’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘this book’s about moving away from your home. The main character, Amir, he leaves Afghanistan, where he grows up, for America.’

‘Really?’ Mr P brushed his hand over the cover.

‘I know you’ll love it! But trust me, this literally makes Rebecca seem like child’s play. Like that’s an awesome book, really atmospheric, but this is like an emotional roller-coaster that just keeps going and going and going …’

‘Okay, Miss Aleisha,’ he said. ‘I understand you very well. I will read and report back!’

With almost a skip in his step, he headed towards a seat in the library, and just before he sat down she said, ‘Don’t cry, okay?’

‘Yes, boss!’ he called back.

He sat down in his favourite chair next to a little alcove of bookshelves with a tall reading lamp.