The Reading List(56)
When she finally let go, her eyes shot down to the books. ‘I like these ones,’ she said, running her fingers over the bumps and gloss of the covers, before clutching them to her chest.
‘Wonderful, young lady. Anything else at all I can help you with?’ Louisa asked.
‘Why these books, Dada? Were they Ba’s favourites?’ Priya said, between mouthfuls of cheesecake from the bookshop café.
He shrugged, shovelling down his chocolate muffin – a small drop of shame coming over him. He didn’t know. He’d never asked. Naina had always looked so preoccupied when she was reading. He’d never stopped to think that sometimes the book she was reading might reveal more to him than anything else. Only now that he’d started reading himself, now that he saw Rebecca browsing the shelves, Mrs Danvers sitting beside him in the Foyles café, eating a cream cheese bagel, or Amir and Hassan running up and down between the tables, only now did he realize how lovely it would have been to learn a little more about the world Naina had been occupying, the characters she’d been walking with.
He didn’t want to show his regret to Priya, when she finally seemed excited to spend time with him, so instead he said, ‘I think your ba read every book. She loved reading!’
‘I know that, Dada,’ she said, scrutinizing him. ‘But did she read these ones? Were they her favourites?’ She’d laid out her three new books in front of her like playing cards. Wiping her hand first so as not to get any cheesecake on her books, she stroked the covers again. Naina would always wipe her hands on a tea towel before picking a book up.
‘I’m not sure. But they are my favourites.’ He waited to see if that held any resonance for her, if she even cared at all. His little girl gave nothing away. She shrugged.
‘Can you tell me what they are about then? Just a little so I have the flavour, you know.’
He nodded. He’d never had to do this before – it felt a bit like a test. He remembered Aleisha’s face after she finished The Kite Runner – how her recommendation had been filled with so much emotion and enthusiasm. He tried to channel her energy as he summarized each novel.
‘So, To Kill a Mockingbird,’ Mukesh glanced over to Atticus Finch in the reference section, just about in view from the café. Priya’s eyes were wide, totally engaged, focused on her grandfather’s face. ‘It’s about brother and sister, Jem and Scout, learning some crucial life lessons. Their father, Atticus Finch, is a big, important lawyer – he’s really good, and very wise and fair – he’s defending a man called Tom Robinson, accused of attacking a white woman just because he’s black. It’s her word against his. Now, these are things quite big for young Scout and young Jem to understand – so we see them coming to terms with what’s going on, seeing injustice for themselves in their own childlike ways. So, what happens—’
‘Stop, Dada!’ Priya held up her hands. ‘I’m going to read it for myself. I just want the flavour.’
‘Yes, yes, you are right. Well, then that is a little flavour.’ He moved onto the next one: Rebecca. He began describing the book by going ‘Ooo,’ in what he hoped was an atmospheric, spooky way, but actually he sounded like an old grandfather with some joint pain.
‘Are you okay, Dada? Do you want to sit on this seat, it has more padding?’ Priya stood up and pointed to the cushion underneath her.
‘Na, beta, it’s okay, I am okay, just a little twinge,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘Where was I? … Oh, yes. Do you remember your summer holidays to Cornwall?’
‘Yes, Dada, of course.’
‘Well, you know all those cliffs, the rough waves.’
‘Yes, Dada.’
‘Well, imagine a large house not far from there, and a ghost of a woman walking the halls … that’s how Rebecca really builds the atmosphere, spooky, and eerie, and I think the landscape is a person in itself! I don’t know if it really is Cornwall in the book, but it sounds like it. Did Cornwall ever feel like that to you?’
For a split second, Mukesh was watching himself – and he couldn’t quite believe it. He was discussing books as if he knew what he was talking about. He sounded like an English teacher, maybe even a librarian. He felt himself sit up an inch or so taller, pride sending pinpricks over his skin.
‘Not really, we usually go surfing and it’s very beautiful when it’s sunny. But windy and scary when it’s not.’
‘Exactly! It’s got that beautiful side, and the dark side … like Rebecca.’
Eventually, he moved on to The Kite Runner. He didn’t know how to begin describing it to Priya. ‘This book might be a little sad, and a little grown-up for you.’
Priya shook her head. ‘One of my friends read it at school. She’s a bit older than me, but I’m a better reader than her,’ she said matter-of-factly.
‘All right, well, it’s the story of two friends, they’re like brothers, Amir and Hassan,’ Mukesh pointed to the two little boys on the front cover. ‘Except Amir is from a wealthy family, and Hassan is not. Hassan is the son of Amir’s family’s servant.’
He held The Kite Runner in his hands. While this story was so different to his own, and that of his friends, something about the kinship between Amir and Hassan always reminded him of his good childhood friend in Kenya, Umang. They were so alike in so many ways, but the two boys had different pasts and different futures – Mukesh always knew he’d have opportunities, but Umang … Umang didn’t.