The Reading List

by Sara Nisha Adams

  ‘Don’t go pretending we are the bad ones. It is probably you who has put these silly ideas into his head in the first place. This independent, do-what-you-want mentality you have. At least we got it out in the open rather than just talking about it in family WhatsApp!’

  Mukesh didn’t want to hear any more. He made his way into the lift, and before he knew it, he was back on the street, back on the train and, eventually, back home.

  Chapter 23

  ALEISHA

  THE CREDITS WERE ROLLING, and Leilah hadn’t fallen asleep. She hadn’t sat down to watch a film with anyone in years. It was a Disney film, so nothing that required concentration, but it was an achievement enough. Aleisha was half baffled, half waiting for the spell to break – it had been days since their failed picnic, but for Leilah, that all seemed to be forgotten.

  Aleisha had watched as her mum beamed, showing off the gap between her front teeth. Her mother’s smile always took her back to long-ago family trips to the beach, like a photograph imprinted on her memory.

  She wished Aidan were here to see it. He’d tell her to be careful, to not get her hopes up – he’d remind her that there may still be a few more weeks, even months, to go until Leilah was ‘totally herself’ again.

  Right now, though, that didn’t matter. They had been a dull, boring, ordinary family for an hour and a half. It was all Aleisha wanted.

  She remembered film nights with Leilah when she and Aidan were little, usually when Dean was working late. They’d curl up together under a blanket if it was winter, tuck into a bowl of Tesco’s own vanilla ice cream if it was summer. Aidan usually insisted on sprinkles – chocolate sprinkles, hundreds and thousands. Aleisha preferred syrup. Sometimes Leilah allowed both. They’d dubbed these their film critic nights, because they’d watch the film and then talk for ages afterwards – discussing different characters, funny bits, the sad bits too. Leilah would ask probing questions like, ‘What did that character learn from what he did?’ Aleisha recognized herself doing this in her conversations with Mr P, trying to find out a little more about his views on each book. Leilah did it to spark conversation, to help their favourite moment last longer. To keep them in the bubble, the bubble that would burst as soon as Dean came home and everything had to go back to boring reality – getting ready for bed, then for school, so Dean could settle down in front of the TV himself and unwind with the ten o’clock news. She missed the three of them just being in each other’s company with nothing else to worry about but the character motivations and the theme music.

  ‘What did you think?’ Aleisha asked as Leilah watched the screen, her mother’s palms held together as if in prayer.

  ‘It was quite emotional!’ Leilah said softly, still staring at the credits. Her face was illuminated by the television in all its different colours: reds, blues, greens. All the creases in her mother’s face were clear: the expressions, the sadness. She was lovely.

  ‘Thank you,’ Leilah said, still staring, gently squeezing Aleisha’s hand.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Aleisha replied, unsure of what she was being thanked for.

  ‘Come sit with me?’ Leilah slapped the cushion of the seat beside her.

  Aleisha did as she was told, not wanting to break the spell again.

  ‘How are you?’ Leilah looked at her.

  Aleisha let the question hang in the silence between them for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

  ‘Yeah, I’m okay.’ She opened her mouth to continue, but her mind was a blank.

  ‘Who’s that person you keep texting?’ Leilah asked as Aleisha’s phone buzzed.

  ‘What?’ Aleisha flushed.

  ‘That person – the one you’re messaging now. Someone you’re always on your phone to when you’re here. Who?’

  Aleisha looked at the message from Zac: Hey, you all right? How was the film? Fancy that coffee sometime soon?

  ‘Oh no one,’ she mumbled. ‘A friend.’

  ‘A boyfriend! Do you have a boyfriend?!’ Leilah’s eyes glinted with girlish glee. Aleisha couldn’t help but smile for a moment.

  ‘No, no, no. It’s no one.’ An image of Zac dressed in Jane Austen-style clothes, a formal, frilly white shirt, popped up in her mind. She covered her face with her hands.

  ‘Someone you work with? You mentioned someone called Kyle before?’

  ‘No!’ She was horrified at the suggestion.

  ‘You have to tell me.’

  Aleisha laughed. She hated this. But her mother actually gave a shit if she was seeing a guy. That was new.

  ‘Are you going to invite him round?’

  It was like Leilah believed they were living a different life at times like this, as if she and Aidan could invite friends round at the drop of a hat.

  ‘So, come on spill, who’s the guy?’

  ‘Why do you think it’s a guy?’

  ‘Look, I might be old but I know it’s a guy and I want to know everything. Not because I’m your mum, just because. Why can’t I know something fun and exciting? Look at me!’ Leilah held her arms out to the side. She looked small. Her T-shirt was sagging around her waist, and her legs were crossed tightly in front of her.

  ‘But I mean, what if it was a girl? Not a guy.’

  ‘I don’t mind either way. You’ll tell me!’

  Aleisha sighed. ‘His name’s Zac. I saw him on the train once. And then he helped me home from the shop with my bags and he lives not far from here. And I saw him at the park and he insisted on giving me his number and we’ve been talking.’

  ‘Love at first sight.’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Okay, that’s fine. Just tell me more!’

  ‘He studies law—’

  ‘That’s it. Marry him!’ Leilah put her hands in the air, theatrically. ‘I’ve always said you were going to study law! We could soon have two lawyers in the family!’

  ‘No! Chill out.’ Aleisha was staring straight ahead at the wall, embarrassed. ‘But he’s being really helpful and said he’ll show me some of his uni prospectuses. He’s kept them all.’

  ‘What a line.’ Leilah winked. ‘No, no. I’m kidding. He sounds like a good guy. He’s how old?’

  ‘Twenty. Not too old.’

  ‘That’s okay. I dated a few twenty-six-year-olds when I was your age.’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Not at the same time. And does he know about your other love?’

  ‘What other love?’

  ‘The list. That reading list you showed me.’

  Aleisha was startled that she had even remembered.

  ‘No, that’s nothing.’

  ‘That could be the start of a love affair. What if the list curator is your perfect guy or girl? It could be a Richard Curtis movie.’

  Aleisha didn’t reply.

  ‘Well … something about this list has really hooked you. You’re still reading, yes? This boy hasn’t distracted you?’

  Aleisha contemplated this for a moment. ‘Yes, Mum. I’m still reading. I’m enjoying them, and I’m interested. Besides, it gives me something to do while everyone else is going to Reading festival, or whatever. Or they’re on holidays or working somewhere decent. I’ve not seen anyone in ages, and no one chats to me. It’s like I’m not even around.’

  Aleisha took a deep breath. The list wasn’t just a distraction for her any more. She’d learned how to fight for something you believe in from Atticus Finch; she’d learned how to survive with a tiger like Pi; she’d learned never to stay in a creepy house in Cornwall, maybe just go to a B&B or something instead; and from Amir in The Kite Runner she’d discovered it was never too late to do the right thing. Pride and Prejudice … that was more like a guilty pleasure read, but she liked aspects of it – especially the parts that reminded her of Zac.

  She thought of Mukesh now – her new, unlikely friend. He’d been a good companion for her at the library. The last time he’d been in, she’d seen him sitting up very straight, with his reading glasses pulled halfway down
his nose, focusing on Pride and Prejudice.

  ‘Hey Mr P,’ Crime Thriller guy (Chris) had said to him, wandering past. ‘Enjoying that?’

  Mr P had shrugged, ‘Not right now …’

  Aleisha had laughed to herself – she didn’t expect Mr P, usually so polite, to be so honest.

  ‘I liked the characters – they were very, very funny. All sorts of characters. But the story line, I don’t think it is very … what’s the word … relatable for me, Aleisha?’ Mr P had said. She wasn’t sure it was very relatable for her, either. According to the internet, though, people loved this book – thought of it as some kind of feminist bible.

  ‘What do you think of Darcy and Elizabeth? Did it take you back to your wooing days?’ she teased.

  ‘No, no. This is not at all how my marriage started,’ Mr P said to her, almost looking for a reason to put the book down.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she’d asked.

  ‘There was none of this prolonged courtship. We were thrown into it – like those marriage matches Mrs Bennet loves to set up. We had an arranged marriage – the first time I met Naina was a little before our wedding day – but it was the most special day of my life. My wife, she was perfect. I was so lucky.’ For a moment, his mind drifted off. ‘You see, just because we didn’t spend months chasing after each other, like Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant to be. We didn’t know each other at all, but it felt like I’d known her my whole life. I could open up to her. And I did; it was the best decision I’d made.’

  Aleisha had thought of Zac then – of the first time she’d seen him; wondering whether she’d known then that they might become friends.

  ‘From the first moment you meet Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, you know that they’re meant to be together. The rest of the book is just the author trying to keep them apart for our entertainment.’

  Mr P was right – she wondered if her own reluctance to be honest and open with Zac, who was trying so desperately to help her open up, was actually the main thing keeping Aleisha shut off and alone … just for the sake of it, for the entertainment of her imaginary readers.

  Leilah shuffled herself closer to Aleisha, snapping her out of her daze.

  ‘Have you told your brother about the list? He loves that library.’

  ‘If he loves the library so much, why doesn’t he go any more?’

  ‘He’s busy, he’s working a lot. He doesn’t have the time that you have.’

  Leilah’s words had their unintended sting. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I know I’m not easy to talk to, I know how much you two do for me, and how hard everything has been. I really wish I could help you out more, but I want you to feel you can tell me anything. And Aidan. You both come first for me.’

  Aleisha tried to keep her surprise out of her voice, and said, cautiously, ‘Mum, that’s nice.’ She then took a deep breath, worried about how her next few words might land. ‘But I want you to be here for yourself too.’

  A cloud settled on Leilah’s features for a moment before being banished away by her false cheery tone: ‘I bet she’s a teacher. I’m so sure of it. Who writes reading lists other than teachers?’

  ‘Why are you so sure it’s a woman?’

  ‘I’m not, but feels like it could be?’

  ‘I guess all women write lists, do they?’

  ‘Maybe it’s Aidan. He loves the library, and I know Aidan writes you lists all the time.’

  ‘Yeah, but I really cannot imagine Aidan ever reading Pride and Prejudice … or Little Women.’ Aleisha pulled out another list – this one in Aidan’s WhatsApp messages to her. ‘Sugar. Lamb. Get washing-up liquid. Order food recycling bags from council. Take out bins tonight. PUT NEW BIN BAG IN EMPTY BIN.’ Aleisha read it out loud, enunciating the words in capital letters. ‘Now that bin-bag stuff … that’s the true beginning of a love story.’

  The two women burst into fits of laughter and soon found they couldn’t stop. They held onto each other for dear life as they heard Aidan’s key turn in the lock.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ his voice drifted into the living room.

  ‘Hey!’ Aleisha said, jolting herself away from her mother as though she’d just been scalded.

  ‘What’s going on, guys?’ His eyes were tired, but he held himself up tall, a smile stuck on his face, as though he was trying to inject some kind of energy into himself.

  ‘We just watched that Disney film, Up.’

  ‘It. Was. Great!’ Leilah enunciated, illustrating each full stop with a poke of her finger into her thigh.

  Aidan nodded. ‘All right, sounds okay.’ Leilah and Aleisha both smiled at each other, and glanced back at Aidan, who’d already turned away and was walking up the stairs. ‘Cool, well, I’m shattered.’

  ‘Why the long face, Aidan?’ Leilah asked, giggling away to herself.

  Aidan shot a soft glance at his sister, avoiding his mother’s gaze. ‘Long shift.’ He yawned. ‘Going to bed. See you in the morning, guys.’ From halfway up the stairs, he boomed, ‘Aleisha, don’t forget to do the bins!’

  Leilah brushed her hand over Aleisha’s hair. ‘He’s good to us, isn’t he?’

  She nodded. Leilah pushed herself up from the sofa and left the room. Then, alone in the living room, Aleisha felt a chill. It was noticeable, in a house that had only ever been stifling hot recently, and she suddenly realized the windows were wide open. She couldn’t remember opening them herself.

  Chapter 24

  MUKESH

  BEEP. YOU HAVE NO new messages.

  Mukesh felt a lump in his throat build. He slumped down on the sofa, staring straight ahead. He hadn’t seen Nilakshi in days, he hadn’t returned her phone calls. He hadn’t been to the library either. Pride and Prejudice was still sitting on his bedside table. He’d tried, he’d tried so hard, but whenever he started to read, his mind just wandered. He’d just think back to Vritti’s house, and everything his daughters had said, and hadn’t said too.

  He’d failed – himself, Aleisha, his girls. And Naina. Naina – she’d been silent for so long. Despite everything he was doing, trying to let her spirit live on in him, through the books, it felt as if she was lost to him.

  Reputation. That word pulsated in his mind – Deepali’s face, the disappointment in her eyes, it still stung.

  He lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The last few weeks, all those moments when he’d felt like he was achieving things – it meant nothing in the end. Because here he was, back at square one.

  An hour later, there was a knock on the door. Mukesh hauled himself up from the bed, his head heavy and sore, slipped his slippers on, and slid his way across the hallway.

  ‘Vritti?’ he said, as he pulled the door wide.

  ‘Hi Papa,’ Vritti’s voice was soft. ‘I just wanted to pop in for chai. Are you free?’

  Mukesh felt his eyes sting with tears, but he blinked them away as he stepped aside, to let his daughter through.

  ‘Sachet chai?’ Vritti asked, wandering straight to the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, okay, but please add Canderel. Rohini bought the unsweetened ones last time.’ Mukesh hovered in the kitchen doorway, watching Vritti make her way around the kitchen, like it was her home.

  ‘Fine by me, but don’t tell her I’m doing that!’ Vritti called back. ‘I’d never hear the end of it. You go sit down, Papa, put your feet up.’

  He did as he was told, unsure what to say.

  Moments later, Vritti walked in, balancing two chais on Naina’s little tea tray with some extra tablets of Canderel scattered all over, between the mugs. She placed it down gently on the table next to Mukesh, but still managed to spill some tea onto the tray. The Canderel began to float, and some began to swim as fast as they could to reach the shore. Some survived, others slowly disintegrated. Vritti and Mukesh just watched for a moment, until the thought of Rohini’s scolding came to them through the inertia: ‘Get some kitchen towel. Clean that up!’

  ‘I got
this!’ Mukesh looked at Vritti, his eyes bright. His arm reached down beside his armchair and he brought a hand-held vacuum with a squeegee top into view. ‘It cleans up water!’

  Vritti laughed. ‘Where on earth did you get that, and why?’

  ‘Those television programmes. It was so easy! This is the second time I have used it for a proper reason. Most of the time I just use it for condensation on the shower.’

  Vritti laughed again, and Mukesh suddenly saw how ridiculous it was, how mundane, and he started to chuckle too.

  ‘How long have you had it?’

  ‘About three months. You know, when my Netflix wasn’t working, so I got very hooked on those shopping channels. Silly stuff, but this is useful!’

  The doorbell punctuated their afternoon once more, and Mukesh felt the blood drain from his face. Vritti was here … what if, could this be another cornering? He looked up at the portrait of Naina, hoping for a sign, a warning.

  ‘Do you know who that might be?’ Mukesh asked Vritti, who shrugged casually.

  He shuffled into the hallway and cautiously opened the door.

  ‘Dada!’ came two squealing voices. Within seconds, two little pairs of arms had clasped themselves around Mukesh’s legs, and Deepalydia Bennet was standing in front of him, but without the bonnet he’d imagined all the Bennet sisters would wear.

  ‘Hi Dad,’ she said, tentatively.

  ‘Deepali,’ he said, smiling. Just behind her masi was Priya, smiling from ear to ear.

  ‘Rohini just called me, asked me to pick up Priya so she could spend some time with you, and these two wanted to see you as well.’ Deepali nudged the twins inside and looked down at her hands. He had known Deepali all her life, and imagined her to be bubbling with awkwardness inside. ‘I just, I just wanted to say sorry, for the other day. It was unfair of me. I could just hear Mummy telling me off, she’s been in my head ever since …’ She hated apologizing …

  Mukesh thought of good old Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird – old enough and wise enough to rise above any personal falling-outs. And this was his daughter – while he didn’t always understand her, he knew she didn’t want to hurt him. Jaya and Jayesh rushed into the living room to pester their cousin, as Deepali leaned forward and clutched her father.