The Reading List(64)

But as she was reading, listening to Elizabeth use her smart-arse comebacks to rebut Mr Darcy, Darcy doing the same back, her mind was occupied by Zac, and that walk home. Except, unlike Darcy, Zac hadn’t been sullen and dull and boring – he’d been overly chatty. He’d made her laugh; he’d been trying to get her to take her guard down. But this was London, not nineteenth-century wherever, and no one spoke to strangers.

She looked over to Leilah, and for a split second she saw her dressed from head to toe in one of Mrs Bennet’s best gowns. She blamed it on the story. On her overactive imagination. It was ridiculous – Mrs Bennet was nothing like Leilah. She was snobby, loud, brash and scheming, interested in everyone else’s business. Whereas Leilah was reserved, too lost in her own world to be interested in others’.

‘Okay, so that’s Elizabeth and Mr Darcy,’ Leilah said, her eyes waking up. ‘But you also mentioned a Lydia. Who’s Lydia?’

‘Elizabeth’s younger sister.’

‘Okay. And who’s Wickham?’

‘I think he’s meant to be the villain, isn’t he?’

‘I can’t concentrate on this,’ Leilah said. Aleisha felt herself deflate, the book open in her lap, the words tiny and hard to read. Leilah got up from the sofa and wandered out, and Aleisha tried to focus on the page.

Aidan poked his head round, holding up a Post-it note Aleisha had left for him. ‘Picnic?’ it said, with a smiley face emblazoned on it.

‘Seriously don’t think this is the right time to be getting Mum outside, Aleisha,’ Aidan said, sternly.

Aleisha was so set on the idea, especially now she’d seen Pride and Prejudice hadn’t done the trick in pulling her mother out of the fog. This time last year, Aleisha and Aidan had laid out a picnic in their garden when Leilah had been having a bad time, and it had helped her. She’d laughed so much.

‘It’s a beautiful day – you know she liked it last time. We’d be outside but still close to home.’

‘I just think you’re setting yourself up for failure,’ he said with a deep sigh.

‘But last year, it was your suggestion and it really worked!’

‘Yeah, well maybe now I’m just not sure it’s going to work, not this time,’ he said. ‘I’m fed up of failing,’ he muttered then, under his breath.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Aleisha studied the frown on her brother’s forehead, the shadows under his eyes.

‘Look, I’ll do the bulk of it, all right? I’ll sort everything out, you just have to be there.’

Aidan shrugged, unconvinced. ‘I’ve got to pick something up from the chemist’s – come with me, Mum’ll be okay for a bit, and we can get stuff on the way back.’

She grinned at her brother. ‘Thanks, Aidan.’

Aleisha sat on a bench in the park, basking in the sunshine, waiting for Aidan to get back from the chemist’s. She pulled Pride and Prejudice out of her bag once more. It had been okay reading it in the privacy of her own home, to her mum, who couldn’t care less about it … But now, she felt self-conscious, exposed, worried that someone would be watching her, someone she knew.

A stranger sat down on the bench beside her, and as quickly as she could, she swapped Pride and Prejudice for the next book on the list, Little Women, which she’d been carrying with her in preparation for the moment she finished the Jane Austen. She turned to a random page.

She stole a glance, trying to be super subtle.

For a minute, she thought her Pride and Prejudice-addled brain was playing tricks on her. She blinked once, twice. But there he was: Zac, just looking at her.

‘Hey, kid,’ he said.

She shifted uncomfortably, aware of the blush in her cheeks. Kid. Great. She tried to think of an Elizabeth Bennet-style comeback – but nothing came to her at all.

‘Hi,’ she said, allowing a drop of ice into her voice; it was the best she could manage.

‘Little Women … I read that years ago. With my little sister. It’s her favourite. Always made her want sisters rather than brothers though. But who’d want a sister like Amy?’

She had no idea who Amy was … she hadn’t read a page, so, just to be contrary, she said, ‘I like Amy. She’s misunderstood.’ Aleisha kept flicking through the pages, trying to act aloof. ‘How many books have you read?’

‘Thousands, probably. You seem to be sticking with the obvious ones for now.’ At first, it felt as if he was doing a sharp, disinterested, Darcy-style response. But, when she looked up at him, a generous grin decorated his face; he was teasing.

‘Bit harsh,’ Aleisha smiled, looking down at her book. She refused to reveal the reading list to him. It felt like something sacred, just for her (and sort of for Mr P, though he didn’t know it).

‘Do you have time to get a coffee?’

‘No, sorry, I’m waiting for my brother,’ Aleisha said sharply, putting her book down and looking straight at him. ‘I can’t.’

‘Okay, well why don’t we put a date in the diary?’

‘Who says that?’ Aleisha cringed. ‘Actually, probably someone from here,’ she said, slapping her hand on Little Women, ‘or Pride and Prejudice. That must be where you get your lines …’