The Reading List(80)

‘Usually soap operas. My favourite is Bhabiji Ghar Par Hai, but recently I’ve been watching Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, like Indian X Factor! And beti, you can just call me Nilakshi. Ben means sister, and even though I feel as young as you, I am not quite your sister!’ Mr P and Nilakshi started chuckling, Aleisha and Zac joined in.

‘I think you’ll really like the next book, Mr P. It’s Little Women.’

Mukesh lit up. ‘My granddaughter, Priya, has read this! She said my Naina gave it to her.’

Aleisha nodded, ‘I remember you telling me. It’s brilliant, but a little bit sad, just to warn you.’

‘I can do sad, I read The Kite Runner, ne?’ he replied.

The sun was shining through the window now, just as it was setting, and the room had a faint orange glow.

‘Could someone turn the light on?’ Mukesh asked. ‘Your nice faces are disappearing.’

Zac hopped up, switched the light on, and then closed the curtains without being asked.

Aleisha took in the room now, properly. Her eye was drawn to a cushion, adorned with bold, bright paisley. It didn’t match the other decoration, but everything fitted together in mismatch harmony.

‘This is lovely, this cushion,’ Aleisha said, picking it up. ‘Where did you get it?’

‘My wife’s sari. My youngest daughter Deepali is very good at sewing. She made it for me. Just after Naina died. I never notice them any more. You know when things fade into familiarity,’ Mukesh said. ‘I am glad you pointed them out.’ Then he whispered, almost to himself, ‘Naina is always here.’

Aleisha’s eyes moved to a woman’s portrait framed on the wall with a garland hanging from the top left corner to the top right, tracing the line of her necklace. She looked young; she was beautiful. Mukesh followed her gaze too. His face dropped, his cheeks soft.

‘Are you okay?’ Zac asked Mukesh.

‘I am. I am okay.’

Nilakshi nodded, looking at the photograph. ‘Naina was amazing. Aleisha, you would have loved her. The most generous.’

‘More generous than you?’ Aleisha asked, and then wished she hadn’t, because the air in the room suddenly became a little bit heavier.

‘Yes, much more generous than me. She has always been kind. I think it was she who taught me how to be kind. And her daughters. She always raised them to love others, to think of others before themselves.’

‘I have never met them. Do you see them often, Mr P?’

‘Sometimes. They are busy girls.’

The rest of the evening was peaceful; Aleisha felt almost as though she was someone different, in another world entirely. Everything else beyond these four walls – it simply didn’t exist for now. They listened to some music on the television: bhajans, Nilakshi called them. They were gentle, meditative. Aleisha could have sat there all day.

Zac looked at Aleisha. ‘We’d better get going. To get you back home on time?’

She looked at her watch. Oh god. It was already ten past ten. Aidan would have had to leave the house at nine; Leilah would be waiting. Her heart began to beat frantically.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr P, Nilakshi, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to get back to my mum. Thank you!’ She rushed out her words in a torrent and pulled her shoes on as quickly as she could. Zac bumbled behind her.

‘You all right?’ he said when they got outside.

‘My mum, she’s not meant to be on her own. I promised my brother I’d be back by nine.’

‘It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s two minutes away.’

‘No, I’m late. You don’t understand!’ Aleisha threw herself into the car, and Zac drove her home in silence. All Aleisha could hear was the drumming of her pulse.





PART VIII


BELOVED


by Toni Morrison





Chapter 27


ALEISHA


THE WHOLE HOUSE WAS darkness. All the curtains were closed. Aleisha felt her way up the wall and found the light switch. There was no one around.

‘Mum!’ Aleisha called. Thankfully there was only silence in return. Leilah must be asleep; maybe she hadn’t even noticed her lateness.

She dumped her stuff in the living room, pulling the latest library book, Beloved, out of her bag and bringing it upstairs with her. She became aware of a noise, a creaking of floorboards. Was Leilah pacing? Her door was ajar.

Aleisha walked cautiously towards it, and she could hear a low, groaning sobbing sound. Her heart sank. She could feel it solidify at the very pit of her stomach.

‘Mum?’ Aleisha said again, not expecting a reply. She gently pushed the door open. Her eyes adjusted gradually to the darkness and she saw a shadow huddled in the corner of the room, rocking backwards and forwards. She turned the light on.

Illuminated, Aleisha could see her mother’s room had been destroyed. It was as though someone had gone through every drawer searching for something. Her clothes littered every blank space of carpet, her alarm clock, which hadn’t been used for years, was on the floor, face up, glass cracked, and every cupboard door was wide open.

There was Leilah, slumped in the corner, her head in her hands. She was crying; her shoulders moved slightly, shaking.

The room was hot. Filled with stale air, Aleisha could smell Leilah’s day. Every moment of it. And she could tell it hadn’t been happy.