The Reading List

by Sara Nisha Adams

  ‘No one warned me!’ Aleisha said, waving the book at him, knowing it was a lie. Everyone had warned her – but even then, she hadn’t been prepared for this. ‘Why did no one tell me this was literally going to shatter my heart into a million billion pieces? Hassan; he is so, so kind. And Amir just walks all over him.’

  ‘Well, they’re both just kids, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yeah, but still – stuff you do when you’re kids can really affect everything, can’t it? Like Amir, he spends the rest of his life with regret.’

  ‘There’s a lot in that story. Making amends and meaning it before it’s too late.’ Aidan paused for a moment, and Aleisha’s eyes shot to the photograph of Aidan, Aleisha, Leilah and Dean. ‘Not taking people for granted,’ Aidan finished, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his phone.

  A lump formed in her throat. Amir wasn’t able to fix things with Hassan, but he was able to make amends somehow. She thought of Dean, she thought of everything he’d done in his past, and how now, he did all he could to appear the concerned parent – texting, calling, leaving voice notes, dropping random sums of money into their bank account. But unlike Amir, Aleisha wasn’t sure Dean really regretted anything.

  Back in the library, Aleisha wiped a tear from her cheek. Crap, she said to herself, as she spotted Mr P wandering in. He was smiling so widely. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to be chirpy right now. Hassan, so young and kind, and his friend Amir were running around in her mind – but there was Dean too, encroaching, bringing her back to her own life.

  ‘Hello!’ he said, wandering up to her desk. ‘I’ve finished this one too!’ He held Rebecca aloft.

  Aleisha tried to force a smile onto her face, but she felt her bottom lip drop and knew there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Hi, Mr P!’

  ‘Aleisha,’ he said, softly. ‘Are you okay, beta?’

  Aleisha felt the lump rise up in her throat again. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, she thought to herself.

  ‘Yeah, absolutely. Just finished reading a book, a sad one. I’m all right.’ She cleared her throat, tried to deepen her voice.

  Mr P leaned awkwardly over the desk and tapped her gently on the shoulder. ‘There, there, it’s okay, beta,’ he said, his voice soft and soothing. ‘My daughter Deepali looks just like that when she’s trying to pretend she’s okay but she isn’t! She was always like that as a teenager. I’m okay. Leave me alone, Dad. I’m fine!’ Mr P chuckled. ‘It is okay to say you are sad when you are. These books can be very sad, can’t they? I once read a book that made me cry lots and lots.’

  ‘What was it?’ Aleisha was doing all she could to keep her voice even.

  ‘The Time Traveler’s Wife,’ he said, his voice catching. ‘We found it under my wife’s bed after she passed away. Reading it made me feel closer to her; it made me realize my loss as well.’ His eyes drifted away for a moment, and his melancholy only added to the pain in her throbbing forehead.

  ‘I … I wanted to talk to you about Rebecca but maybe we save it for another day? I would like to pick up another book, though. What is this book that has upset you?’

  Aleisha held it up.

  ‘The. Kite. Runner,’ Mr P read slowly, squinting.

  Aleisha nodded her head frantically. ‘I mean, yeah, I would so love you to read it. I need to talk to someone about it!’

  His eyes lit up. ‘You want to talk to me about it?’ he asked, quietly. ‘Let me take that one out in that case. I would love to. And thank you for Rebecca. It has made me think a lot about things, although I don’t know if I liked it.’

  ‘You didn’t like it? Too spooky? I found it pretty creepy. That big old house, that ghost. Terrifying!’

  ‘No … it, it was more that it was a little unkind. I don’t believe in remarrying, not really. So modern.’

  She laughed aloud. ‘Mr P, I don’t think the book was about remarrying, you know? And I think this book was written years ago.’

  ‘It seemed to be all about remarrying to me.’ He looked down at his shoes.

  ‘Hmm,’ Aleisha said, checking The Kite Runner out with Mr P’s library card. ‘I guess books say different things to different people.’

  ‘You know, Miss Aleisha,’ Mr P stood up tall. ‘I would never, ever remarry.’

  Aleisha tried to hide a smile. ‘But what if you found the right lady, Mr P?’ She quite enjoyed teasing him, until his eyes visibily widened and his jaw dropped a little; he wasn’t taking this well.

  ‘What on earth do you mean, young lady!’ Mr P’s voice jumped two octaves higher. ‘There is only ever one true love for a person.’

  ‘Right, if you say so,’ Aleisha said, plonking The Kite Runner on the desk in front of her. Her mind flew back to Hassan and Amir. It felt weird, handing it over … She felt possessive, protective, over it. But when she looked up at Mr P’s face, now slightly less outraged, she could see the eagerness in his eyes. ‘Look,’ she said to him. ‘I’ve got to be straight with you – this is really, really hard to read; like, not difficult, but it’s deep. So, so deep, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve had deep in my life, I think I can do it.’ He smiled broadly. She could tell he was waiting for her to ask a question, so he could impart some Atticus wisdom.

  ‘Like what, Mr P?’ she indulged him.

  ‘Well,’ his eyes looked up to the ceiling. ‘I wasn’t born here, you know? I left my home, Kenya, behind to come here, to raise my children, to bring them opportunities. It was hard, settling in, always being different.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘this book’s about moving away from your home. The main character, Amir, he leaves Afghanistan, where he grows up, for America.’

  ‘Really?’ Mr P brushed his hand over the cover.

  ‘I know you’ll love it! But trust me, this literally makes Rebecca seem like child’s play. Like that’s an awesome book, really atmospheric, but this is like an emotional roller-coaster that just keeps going and going and going …’

  ‘Okay, Miss Aleisha,’ he said. ‘I understand you very well. I will read and report back!’

  With almost a skip in his step, he headed towards a seat in the library, and just before he sat down she said, ‘Don’t cry, okay?’

  ‘Yes, boss!’ he called back.

  He sat down in his favourite chair next to a little alcove of bookshelves with a tall reading lamp.

  ‘From here I can see you, Aleisha, or the other librarians, Lucy, Benny and the other young man,’ he’d told her once. ‘Or that student dumping their books in front of them and pulling out a scraggy notebook, or the young mums and dads reading to their children. I like this spot; it is becoming like a new routine when I read here. These strangers, they are my silent companions.’

  Aleisha had been pleased that Mr P was opening up, little by little, not just to her, but also to the other people who worked here. A few days ago, Lucy had said, ‘That old man you’re becoming mates with, he’s rather sweet, isn’t he?’

  She thought of the first time she was rude to Mr P, and how Aidan, and Kyle had convinced her to right her wrong – just like Amir had done in The Kite Runner. It was true – it wasn’t too late to be a good person. Never. Aleisha now felt a strange sense of pride for the old man – she knew that Mr P was lonely, but he was starting to do things to help himself. He was doing so well.

  Chapter 16

  MUKESH

  MUKESH HADN’T TOLD HIS daughters that he was planning on seeing Nilakshi today. She was Nilakshimasi to them, she was like family, always had been. He suspected – hoped – that Vritti would think it was nice that he’d finally found someone who could be a good friend, a companion. But Rohini and Deepali would get the wrong idea, modern ideas. They would read into it, mutter things like, ‘Papa is getting serious with this woman, why would he do that to Mummy?’ to each other behind his back. He couldn’t face being talked about.

  When the doorbell rang, Mukesh’s heart almost leapt out of his chest. He stared up at Naina, hoping for so
me kind of message. Silence.

  ‘Nilakshiben!’ Mukesh held his arms open wide in greeting at the door, sounding more confident and comfortable than he felt.

  She held up a blue plastic bag of vegetables. ‘Ready to learn how to cook brinjal bhaji?’

  Mukesh nodded hurriedly and stepped aside to let her in.

  ‘Sit down, Nilakshiben,’ he said, politely, nodding his head formally, suddenly realizing he was standing uncomfortably straight. They both stood side by side in his hallway, beside the doorway to the living room. Naina, in her photoframe above the television, was staring down at them.

  ‘Thank you, bhai,’ Nilakshi said. He noticed she gave Naina’s chair a wide berth, leaving a space for her memory to be. ‘I can sit here?’ She pointed to the sofa, the bag still in her hand.

  ‘Ha,’ he replied, leaning forward to take the bag from her. ‘Anywhere you like.’ On the sofa, Nilakshi clasped her hands together, shrugging her shoulders as though she wanted to take up as little room as possible.

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘make yourself at home.’

  Nilakshi didn’t move, she just smiled and nodded.

  A few minutes later, Nilakshi joined him in the kitchen as he was straining the chai. He’d made it from scratch this time – he knew that’s what Naina would have wanted for a guest.

  ‘I thought I better join you,’ Nilakshi said. Her face looked as though she had seen a ghost. ‘Shall I start chopping for the brinjal bhaji?’ He could tell she didn’t know what to do with herself, drifting around her late best friend’s house.

  ‘Ha,’ he said. ‘But tell me what you are doing step by step or I will never keep up!’

  ‘Of course!’ She pulled out the aubergine, and began cubing it, as Mukesh added Canderel to the tea. They skipped around each other, searching for utensils, and awkwardly knocking into each other at annoying moments. ‘I am so sorry,’ was always followed by ‘No, no, I am so sorry, bhai! Clumsy clumsy me!’

  ‘Look at us,’ Mukesh said. ‘We are being very silly. I shall just stay over that side and you let me know if you need to get anything.’

  ‘Ha. Thank you. Oil please?’

  Mukesh passed the oil, and Nilakshi made sure to take it by the lid, keeping her fingers as far away from Mukesh’s as possible.

  He felt he was holding his breath for the whole of the brinjal bhaji tutorial and he hadn’t taken a word in.

  ‘Please could you maybe write me some notes for this recipe too?’ he asked, as he tried the first fried, spicy piece of aubergine.

  ‘Of course,’ Nilakshi said, about a foot away from the plate, observing Mukesh tucking in.

  ‘Do you want some?’

  ‘No, thank you, bhai. I hate aubergine.’

  ‘What?’ Mukesh laughed, his eyes creasing. ‘How come you wanted to make this?’

  ‘Well, Naina always used to tell me it was your favourite, and we are always hearing from Harish how you are never making it; even your daughters tell us at the temple. They say your diet is not great! I thought you might want to learn.’

  Mukesh gulped. His cheeks flushed red. Of course his daughters, probably Rohini, had loved to spread the news that Mukesh Patel was stuck in his ways.

  Nilakshi’s face blanched slightly, and he could see her mind whirring, looking for something else to say. ‘It is nice, people care about you! How are your grandchildren? And little Priya?’

  ‘They’re doing okay, having their summer holidays already. Priya and I went to the library the other day.’

  ‘The library?’ Nilakshi asked. ‘Is it the one Naina went to?’

  ‘Yes! I’ve been reading – for Priya, and for me. There’s a librarian there. She helps me, picks out books for me.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Mukeshbhai! What you are reading? What is it like?’

  ‘I’m reading a lovely book called The Kite Runner. It’s about Amir and Hassan,’ he began, and told her everything that had happened so far. Amir was now living in America, his best friend all but forgotten – now just a moment of severe guilt and regret in Amir’s mind.

  ‘That sounds so terribly sad,’ Nilakshi said. They were sitting in the living room now, and he noticed how she was leaning back, her hands by her sides. She was taking up more room. She was settling in.

  ‘It is. The lady at the library who recommended it for me, I saw she was so sad at the end when she finished it. Hassan, he is such a lovely boy and he is treated so horribly.’

  ‘Ha,’ Nilakshi nodded, knowingly. ‘It’s so often the way, isn’t it? My son,’ Mukesh saw Nilakshi’s head bow slightly. He hadn’t heard her talk about Aakash. ‘When he was younger, he was so gentle, so calm, always with his head in books, always loyal to his friends, and they would pick on him. Bully him. When he came home to me, I would ask him about his day. I just wanted to make him feel better.’

  Mukesh’s brow furrowed. Nilakshi’s eyes glistened. He didn’t know what to say – his mind ran through all the books. Was there anything he could take from them? Any wisdom from Atticus to help in this moment? But then he realized, someone to talk to, to listen to her, was probably all she needed. Mukesh could offer her that.

  ‘I just wanted to make him happy,’ Nilakshi’s voice caught in her throat. ‘But there’s only so much a mother can do. That’s what I realized.’

  ‘He had a wonderful family,’ Mukesh said quietly. ‘Children can be so mean sometimes, but your son, he was mature, he was bright – he would have known it was never about him. It wasn’t a reflection on him.’

  Nilakshi cleared her throat and dabbed her eye with the back of her hand. She smiled. ‘He loved brinjal bhaji too. He loved Naina’s brinjal bhaji most of all.’

  When Mukesh’s house was bathed in silence once again, the smell of brinjal and oil and mustard seeds filling the air, he relaxed into his armchair, his belly full, his mind content. He hadn’t had company, real company, just for him, in months, maybe even years. But as he allowed himself to settle, another niggling part of him forced him to look up at the portrait of Naina, and in a flash, he was in Manderley, with Rebecca following him everywhere he went.

  PART V

  LIFE OF PI

  by Yann Martel

  Chapter 17

  ALEISHA

  SHE WAITED FOUR MINUTES for a bus, and a bus never came, so she legged it down the road, stopping at every bus stop on the way to check the waiting time. Still, too long. She kept running. Aidan had called to say he urgently needed to head to work, and it had taken Aleisha so long to pack all her things up at the library and get Kyle to come and cover the rest of her shift, she was going to be an hour late if she didn’t move quickly.

  Her shins were tight. Her chest was hurting; she hadn’t done this kind of cardio for years. Every pore was stinging, as sweat tried to seep out from behind her makeup.

  As she rounded the corner onto her street, her heart began to buzz with apprehension. The closed windows of home; they were as ominous to her as the gates of Manderley. She spotted Aidan leaning on his convertible BMW, music still blaring, talking to someone whom she recognized immediately. Mia: it was the undercut again. Aleisha stopped, wished she hadn’t run all the way home, now looking like a mess. She pictured mascara trailing down her face.

  Aidan waved frantically, his teeth gritted together, but his eyes were pretending to be carefree. ‘Leish,’ he shouted, a smile plastered on his face. Aleisha’s heart started beating double time as she soaked up Aidan’s nervous energy – he kept tapping his feet constantly as though he was trying to hold his energy at bay. ‘It’s Mia! She asked if you want to hang out.’

  ‘Yeah, nice idea, would love to,’ she gabbled, trying to catch her breath. ‘Although I’ve got to help Mum with some stuff.’

  She shot a look at Aidan. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. They were darting everywhere – at his watch; at his steering wheel; at his sister, her friend; and back up at the house too.

  ‘Okay, cool, yeah, cool,’ Mia
said casually, completely oblivious to the fact that both Aidan and Aleisha had other places to be. She was tilting her hips slightly, probably for Aidan’s benefit. ‘Just I haven’t heard from you since the library day a couple weeks ago and wondered if you wanted to catch up, Leish. You didn’t message again in the group.’

  That WhatsApp group.

  ‘Yeah, I’m so sorry.’ She wasn’t. ‘Really sorry, Mia. I can’t right now but thanks so much for coming by.’

  Mia turned on her heel, heading off.

  ‘We’re doing a barbecue tomorrow in the park. Seven. Come along. Rahul will be there too,’ Mia called back to her.

  ‘Thanks!’ Aleisha waved at her retreating friend, before turning her eyes on her brother.

  ‘You’ve been avoiding her,’ Aidan said, when Mia was almost out of sight, jumping back into the car.

  ‘Yeah, we don’t really talk anyway. You know that day when she saw me in the library? Must’ve reminded her I exist.’

  ‘You used to be tight though. It’s sad.’

  ‘Do you like her or something?’ Aleisha let her gaze linger on Aidan, who didn’t return it.

  Aidan laughed, his voice heavier than usual. ‘Look, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to be at work. Go be with Mum.’ He turned away from her, put his key in the ignition, and sped off without a second look.

  The house was quiet; Aleisha wanted to call out to her mum, find out where she was, but she didn’t dare make any loud sounds. She peered round the doorway into the living room. There she was, her legs crossed, on the sofa. Aleisha tiptoed in, moving slowly. She sat down on the opposite side of the room, and pulled her next book, Life of Pi, from her bag.

  ‘Mum?’ Aleisha whispered. ‘Want to hear a story?’

  Leilah didn’t look up.

  Right now, all Aleisha wanted was to replicate that day she’d read To Kill a Mockingbird out loud to Leilah. Her mother had been fast asleep, but still, that was the most peaceful the house had been in weeks. One wrong move might ruin it all, but she was desperate to avoid an evening of stony silence.