The Reading List(55)

The man looked Mukesh dead on and he couldn’t hide any more, so he smiled. The man simply nodded back. Priya was oblivious to it all, her face pulled in the same look of concentration that defined Naina’s reading state. She was somewhere else.

‘Where are we going, Dada?’ Priya asked, holding Mukesh’s hand tightly as they pushed their way through the streets of Charing Cross. Mukesh wished his palm wasn’t so clammy.

The signs were brighter in central London, the traffic louder, faster, than he had remembered. He couldn’t see more than a few paces in front of him because of all the people blocking his way.

‘Well, I think you’ll like it. Your ba took me to this place once, to pick up presents for your mum and your masis one day, when they were very young. I thought it might be nice to get you a present too.’

Since Naina had died, Mukesh had failed to buy Priya presents she actually liked. Last year, he’d bought her a pink, fluffy, sequined purse. She’d passed it straight to her little cousin Jaya, who had used it as a musical instrument for a few hours before leaving it in a corner of Mukesh’s house for him to find weeks later, covered in dust, with a dead ant lying on top of it.

‘Mum says she never got presents,’ Priya frowned.

‘She did!’ Mukesh tried to hide his shock. ‘On special occasions,’ he qualified. ‘Usually a new dress that your ba made. And I remember coming here around Christmas, you see, all those years ago. We said we’d do Christmas, but we agreed we’d still do Diwali. Double presents, and a Christmas tree and Christmas cards, barfi and gulab jamun. We did it all. Your mum wanted to be like her school friends, who got gifts all wrapped up in glitzy paper.’

Naina had bought books for Rohini, Vritti and Deepali. He could tell the girls hadn’t been impressed. He remembered, clearly, Rohini saying, ‘Mummy, I thought I was getting a new dress this year?’ While Deepali and Vritti worked hard to feign gratitude as they opened them, their smiles plastered on their faces, two unconvincing toothy grins.

The two of them stopped as they entered the bookshop, their eyes caught by the books in the windows – a whole scene was captured on the glass itself, a sea and an orange-pink sunset showcasing books, all different sizes and colours. The waves, the deep blue of the sea, reminded Mukesh of Pi, his ocean, his lifeboat and his tiger.

‘Wow!’ Priya gasped, quietly. She quickly shook off her awe, trying to play it cool. Mukesh felt the same. He’d seen books now, but the library was sparse compared to this. Shelves and shelves. Floors and floors. Tables and tables. Piles and piles of books. It was as though they were floating all around him, lifted up by some kind of magic, offering up new worlds, new experiences. It was beautiful.

‘Follow me,’ he said to Priya, leading her towards the tills.

As he reached the desk, he paused, bracing himself, that first day in the library flashing in his memory. ‘Excuse me,’ he said to a woman behind the desk, wanting to look bold in front of his granddaughter, who was peering excitedly over the counter.

‘How can I help?’ she said, smiling at him.

He relaxed. This was so very different to his first meeting with Aleisha. ‘I want three books please. Rebecca,’ he said, smiling down at Priya, ‘The Kite Runner and To Kill a Hummingbird.’ He said the last two so quickly, she, ‘Louisa’ judging by her name badge, asked him to repeat himself.

‘Re-becc-ca,’ he enunciated, quietly. ‘The Kite Runner, and To Kill a Humming-bird by Lee Harper.’

‘Thank you, sir. Let me check for you.’

Her fingers moved at the speed of light on the keyboard. ‘Ah yes, we have all of these. Let me show you.’

She stepped out from behind the desk. There were a lot of other people browsing, and he wondered if she had time to show them where to go, and still make it back to serve someone else. He looked around. All he could see were books, tables and staircases. Behind one table, piled high with paperbacks, was a young woman he felt sure could be Scout all grown up. He stopped in his tracks. Her face was exactly how he’d imagined it. She had short, messy blonde hair too. Was it Scout? How could it be? Scout didn’t really exist, no matter how much he wished she did. Priya tugged at her dada’s sleeve and pointed him towards the woman, a few paces in front. Her eyes wandered the bookshop, taking in every inch.

‘Isn’t this exciting?’ he whispered, more to himself than to Priya.

When he looked back at Louisa, she was far ahead of him, heading up the staircase. He shuffled to catch up, dragging Priya with him. He wondered why all the other browsers couldn’t see the characters walking among them, the ghost of Rebecca lurking in the corner, picking out the novel she was going to read on her beach holiday this year, and Atticus, holed up in the reference section, surrounded by big, fat, chunky books – Mukesh wouldn’t have expected any less of him! Why was no one else as giddy with elation as he was?

Eventually, they tracked down all the books. Louisa fetched them from the shelves one at a time, checking they were the editions he wanted. He nodded. He didn’t really know what that meant but as long as it was the right book, he was happy.

He passed each one to Priya. ‘What do you think? What covers do you prefer?’

‘What?’ Her eyes shot up at him, disbelieving. ‘These are for me?’

‘Yes!’

Within moments, Mukesh felt breathless, all the air squeezed out of him by Priya’s arms, hugging him tightly at the waist. The woman watched them, smiling, and Mukesh didn’t mind that he could barely breathe. He couldn’t remember the last time Priya had hugged him without her mum instructing her to.