The Reading List(99)

PART IX


A SUITABLE BOY


by Vikram Seth





Chapter 38


ALEISHA


‘ALEISHA, YOU LOOK SHATTERED.’

‘I guess I am.’

‘Look, why don’t you go and have a nap before you go to work?’ Rachel said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

‘Yeah, maybe.’ Aleisha wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and never get up. But her mind flew to her mum, who’d been doing exactly that for the last day or so. No, for years. ‘Let me just see how she is …

‘Mum,’ Aleisha whispered, poking her head through the door. ‘Uncle Jeremy and Rachel are here, I’m going to sleep for a bit, okay? They’re going to have some lunch in the garden. It’s a really lovely day, would you like to join them?’ She kept her voice as soft as possible.

Leilah was sitting up, staring at the wall ahead of her. ‘I’m fine,’ Leilah said. ‘Have a good sleep.’

‘She all right?’ Uncle Jeremy was standing just outside the door.

‘She doesn’t want to come out. Honestly, there’s no point in trying.’

‘No, my girl, there’s every point.’ Uncle Jeremy stepped in. ‘Leilah, how are you? It’s a lovely day outside.’

Tomorrow was the open morning for Aidan at the library, and she didn’t feel prepared at all. She was exhausted. Aleisha let her mind switch off and allowed her legs to lead her along the corridor, and into Aidan’s bedroom. It was still, silent in here. Untouched. They hadn’t gone through his things, Aleisha couldn’t bear to touch anything. She wandered over to his bed, pristinely made. Despite the mess in the rest of the room, which wasn’t very Aidan anyway, her brother could never leave his bed undone. She lay on top of the covers, barely wanting to leave a mark. Her head hit the pillow and her eyes were drawn to a stack of books beside his bed, now with a thin layer of dust on the top, on each groove of the spines.

She turned over and stared straight up at the ceiling, willing sleep to overcome her. Suddenly her phone on Aidan’s bedside table started to buzz: Kyle. Of course. She’d see him later for her shift at the library, anyway, so she turned it face down. But her eye was drawn to Aidan’s stack of books again.

There it was. How had she missed it? Nestled between the crime books, the Martina Coles, there it was.

The Time Traveler’s Wife.

She thought of her copy, Mr P’s copy, resting beside her bed – forgotten and ignored.

Her heart caught in her throat. She pictured Mr P, telling her about this book, about how it had helped him. ‘The books show us the world; they don’t hide it.’ She imagined Aidan, sitting in his same spot, reading it. Had she even seen him read it? How recently had he read it?

She took a deep breath, and unearthed the paperback, holding it so delicately between her hands. She’d been so sure she’d been hiding away from life. But maybe Mr P was right – she’d learnt from the books too. She’d seen what people had been through – couldn’t she use that to cope too? And here it was in Aidan’s room, on Aidan’s bedside table. If he had ever read it, she wanted to read it too.

She turned to the first page of The Time Traveler’s Wife, she forced her mind to go quiet, and she read the first line. One word at a time.

Later that day, in the deserted library, Aleisha sat alone at her desk – The Time Traveler’s Wife by her side. She’d only read a few pages, but it had been like stepping into someone else’s world, letting their emotions merge with her own, letting someone else guide her for a moment, so she could work out how best to guide herself. She’d been searching within the pages for clues of Aidan too – what had Aidan thought of Henry, and his ability to travel through his own life? What did he make of the love story too, and of Clare? Her particularly wealthy and snobbish parents. Aidan had always hated people like that.

‘Hey,’ shouted Kyle from the kitchen. ‘Don’t forget to give a final push for the library thing so we can draw in as many people as possible tomorrow – Dev just messaged me to tell me Lucy’s daughter has given a few suggestions, putting it out on social media and whatnot.’ Aleisha groaned. She knew it was what Mr P and Aidan would want too.

She looked at the big pile of leaflets for Save Our Libraries next to her, ready for the bin, usurped by the Big Library GetTogether leaflets.

She scrolled through stories on Instagram so quickly she heard a millisecond of sound for each of them, trying to fill herself in on other people’s lives. Bright lights, people in shorts jumping up, legs by the pool, legs by the beach holding up books, someone’s cat’s bum sauntering with J.Lo and Iggy Azalea’s ‘Booty’ played over the top. Big big booty. Hilarious. Her college friend pouting in front of the leaning tower of Pisa with his top off, too cool to do the standard pose of pretending to hold it up.

She was bored already, looking at other people enjoying life. Would she ever be able to post on social media without worrying what people would think of her, pigeonholing her as the ‘grieving little sister’? Before she had time to think, she took a quick video of the library – empty – and overlaid it with text: COME GET THIS PLACE BUZZING TOMORROW 11 A.M.!

She clicked ‘post’ with a grimace.

Aidan would be shaking his head in shame at how uncool she was.