The Reading List(91)

Bright colours, piled up at the edge of the platform, caught her eye. She saw flowers, envelopes, notes, letters fluttering in the wind.

She walked closer. The last place he had lived. Aidan – Rest in Paradise.

A Bakerloo train came into view, approaching her, and she imagined him throwing himself forward. She wanted to know if he stepped out, or if he jumped. She wanted to know what other people did; did people scream, did people ask him to stop? Did people just continue with their day, grumbling about the train delay?

She looked at those flowers – all sorts of colours. At least three or four bunches. Reds, whites, pinks, blues. Some sunflowers too. He’d always loved sunflowers – ever since he was little. On her fifth birthday card, he’d drawn a picture of her and him standing next to the biggest sunflower ever. He’d titled it ‘Home’.

She stood watching the petals blowing backwards and forwards, and she took a mental picture of them. Her own brother’s memorial, of sorts. She was used to walking past flowers tied to lampposts, always thinking it was sad, a life taken too soon, but never lingering on it for more than a moment. But these flowers, they were different. Infinitely more beautiful, but also so small, too small, to even cope with the weight of Aidan’s death. This didn’t mark it. This wasn’t enough to mark his death. She wanted more.

When she got home, she walked straight into her mother’s bedroom – Leilah was still curled up on the bed as she had left her. Aleisha’s heart was stone. She hated Leilah, she hated herself, for everything they had and hadn’t done, but she embraced her mother, wrapped her whole body around her, wanting to disappear, wanting to feel comfort, to feel close to someone, anyone, her mother, for a little while. She wanted to be away from this world, a world that felt completely alien and yet unforgivably unchanged too.

She picked up the copy of The Time Traveler’s Wife she’d carried up the stairs, wanting to escape, wanting to soothe Leilah. But what good were books now? The characters she’d loved in them were fake, they’d never be able to fix anything. They’d never live beyond the page. But the person she’d loved who had existed in the real world, who’d fought for her, who’d encouraged her, who had given up so much for her – he was now gone.

Aleisha threw the book onto the floor beside the bed and drew herself closer to Leilah. She waited, she waited for her mother’s body to fight against her touch. But Leilah didn’t move. She just sobbed, silently – the only clue, the shivering of her body, her shallow, ragged breath.





Chapter 34


ALEISHA


ALEISHA HADN’T SLEPT A wink. She hadn’t slept for days, dreading this day, dreading how Leilah would react, what she would do.

As they stood by the car, Uncle Jeremy pulled Aleisha into a hug. ‘Aleisha,’ he said. ‘Just take your time, my love, okay? We’re with you, every step of the way.’ She wanted to scream, shout, tell the world that all she wanted to do was leave Leilah, leave her brother’s funeral behind, and run. And run. And never stop running.

Sensing her panic, Uncle Jeremy hugged her tighter, reminding her he wouldn’t let her fall. Rachel stood by her side, holding her hand, making sure she didn’t wobble when she felt like crumbling completely.

‘I’ve got you, Leish,’ Rachel said, squeezing Aleisha’s knee as they sat in the back seat.

She’d been relieved that Uncle Jeremy and Rachel had arrived a week before the funeral, so she didn’t have to do this bit alone.

Eventually they were all in the car, on the way there, their eyes downcast, unable to look at the coffin travelling in front of them, but Uncle Jeremy stared straight ahead – keeping an eye on Aidan, without looking away once. He tried to make a joke, softly, under his breath, unsure, ‘Our boy always did like to travel in style. It’s a Jaguar.’

No one said anything in response; no one spoke at all.

When they arrived at the crematorium, they stepped outside, but Jeremy and Rachel walked ahead to give Aleisha and Leilah a moment together.

‘I saw him today, crossing the road,’ Leilah whispered, speaking for the first time that day.

‘Who?’

‘Aidan.’

‘No, you didn’t see him, Mum.’

But Aleisha had seen Aidan too. Today, yesterday, the day before – she saw him everywhere. He was in the young man listening to music out loud at the bus stop, in the older man pushing his shopping trolley, even in the eyes of the woman picking veg at the cash and carry. Aidan was everywhere.

Every time she saw him, he was there, alive, and well, but just out of reach. Then the fantasy would clear, and he left nothing but a memory behind.

The crematorium was full; people were queuing up outside, unable to hear the service. But they were there for him, for Aidan. Everyone came to pay their respects to Leilah. Aleisha’s mum smiled, she said thank you, but her eyes were a blank gaze. She was saying goodbye to her son.

Aleisha held her hand tight. Tighter still when Dean approached. Leilah squeezed her hand back, her fingers wrapped tightly around her daughter’s – it was the first moment since Aidan had died that Aleisha had really felt there might be some glimmer of love left between them. They were in this together, whether they wanted to be or not. Dean kissed Leilah on the cheek.

‘Our little boy …’ Dean said, his voice cracked, his eyes downcast. She could see the grief written all over his face. He looked older. Full of regret.