The Reading List(93)

The room was tidy. It was a guest room with very few personal photos, and spare towels kept on an exposed cupboard shelf. The bedding was immaculate, and there were even throw pillows and a bolster. The pile of blankets Nilakshi had given her sat on the end of the bed, untouched.

‘Are you okay?’ Leilah asked.

Aleisha hadn’t been asked that by her mother in a long time; she didn’t have the words to respond.

They stayed together in that space in leaden silence. Leilah’s fingernails cut into the palm of her left hand. They left bright, sharp indentations. The grooves turned blistering red. Aleisha watched as Leilah started to pick her skin, slowly at first and then frantically. Leilah couldn’t scream. People would hear. But she threw herself face down onto the bed and shouted wordlessly into a pillow.

Aleisha wanted so badly to do the same. But she needed to be the strong one now. Instead, she watched. In her mind, she saw Aidan, she saw Leilah, lying on the bed, joking, laughing, talking. In front of her, her mother screamed herself to sleep.





Chapter 35


MUKESH


MUKESH WALKED OUT OF the house to a cacophony of children playing on the streets of Wembley, and top-down cars driving fast up the road, whooshing past him. After a tempting pause outside Dosa Express, the smells of the limdi and jeeru calling to him, he eventually reached the library. It was almost empty. It was one of the last few weeks of the summer holidays and all the kids and all the people were outside making the most of the sunshine that had just returned.

And there, sitting in her usual spot behind the desk, was Aleisha.

‘Hello,’ he said, formally.

There was a moment of silence; they both looked at each other nervously. It had been two weeks since he’d seen her. His eyes darted around, looking for something to say. He eventually landed on a pile of flyers at the front desk, with that same ominous slogan he’d come to know so well: Save Our Libraries. He looked quickly away, not wanting to think of anything else negative right now.

‘My skin feels very dry, maybe burnt?’

Mukesh cursed his foolishness. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

‘You and me … we don’t get burnt,’ Aleisha said, confused, and Mukesh shook his head.

He thrust out an arm. ‘I may not be red, but the skin is sore. My Naina was right.’

‘Kyle’s got some cocoa butter in the desk. Here, put this on. It’ll soothe it. Are you okay?’ Aleisha asked. The whites of her eyes were lined with red and her skin was gleaming with a thin layer of makeup.

Unable to respond, or to say thank you, he lathered on the cream. ‘My Naina must have had this, it smells familiar.’

‘Probably.’

‘Are you supposed to be here, Aleisha?’ he said softly.

‘I’ve got to work – routine is better. Normal.’

‘Okay, if you are sure … How is your mum?’

Aleisha shrugged. ‘My uncle and my cousin, you know, the ones you met, they’re staying with us – just for a little while to help out. Mum’s happy to have them.’ Mukesh thought she wanted to say more, but he didn’t know what to ask. He was pleased that someone could be there to help take the load off Aleisha. She was 17, too young to be doing all of this on her own. Her brother was … had been 25, and still too young to be caring for a whole family.

‘I want Mum to get some help. To give me some help too. You know … speak to a professional. She’s never seen a doctor. Aidan wanted that too. She’s never ever spoken to anyone. It could help.’

She shrugged.

Mukesh wasn’t used to people talking about such things, about the doctor, about mental health problems. He felt embarrassed, but Aleisha needed someone to be there for her. He could do that. He might not be super knowledgeable, but he could listen, or find another way to talk.

‘I think … I think Beloved is helpful,’ he said, cautiously. ‘The book. Did you read it?’

Aleisha’s eyes shot towards him. ‘I don’t want to think about books any more.’

‘No, Miss Aleisha, I hadn’t thought of it before, but books can help us too.’

Aleisha sighed heavily. He saw her roll her eyes; she started to tap her nails on the desk impatiently and for a moment he was transported back to his very first day in the library.

‘You see, The Time Traveler’s Wife,’ he said. Aleisha’s eyes were roaming around the library. ‘When my Naina passed away, that book had been a distraction, but it had brought me closer to her as well. But now, I think, more than that, it helped me process some things, you know?’

‘No, Mr P,’ Aleisha said sharply. ‘I don’t know. I’ve spent the whole summer living other people’s lives. I forgot to live mine, to look out for the real people around me.’

‘Beloved,’ Mukesh continued, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. ‘Did you read it? Denver. How does she help her mother?’ Mukesh waited for a reply – but Aleisha was scrolling on her phone. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you what I think. Denver realized that staying in that house, with her mother, with the ghost of Beloved, it wasn’t helping anything. But Denver went out to get help from her community, from other women who wanted to help. She asked for help when her mother couldn’t ask for herself.’