‘Hi. Want to go for a drive later? If you can. After I’ve helped you out with your book biz. Thinking of going to somewhere like Richmond. Through the park. What do you think?’ He sounded his usual cool, calm, collected self.
Aleisha had never been to Richmond. She knew Aidan was in this evening, for the first time this week, so as long as she was back by nine, before he had to head out for his next shift, she was free to do what she liked. But it felt like too much to ask of Zac, to outline a curfew as if she was a 12 year old. Her skin started to prickle with nerves, her thoughts darting to Leilah.
‘Yeah, that would be nice,’ she said, shutting down the doubts in her mind. Her voice quivered with awkwardness. ‘I actually need your car for that work thing. Happy to help?’
‘Obviously, boss. Text me when your shift ends and I’ll pick you up. It’ll be really nice to see you.’
By the time Aleisha was locking up, Zac was already sitting outside in his Vauxhall Corsa, the windows wide open, music softly tinkling out. The complete opposite of Aidan, who was only capable of playing music at an antisocial decibel in his car.
He had his forearm resting on the door. He saw her; his face lit up. Aleisha couldn’t tell if she was hungry or if her stomach was actually doing somersaults. Elizabeth Bennet and her standoffishness would not be impressed with her.
As she opened the car door she suddenly felt exposed. She shuffled into the seat, scared about hitting her head on the roof, or knocking the gear lever or something stupid like that. She felt as though she’d lost control of her limbs.
‘Hi,’ he said, ‘ready? Where we going?’
‘Absolutely, first stop, Hanwell Library. We need to get there a.s.a.p. Someone’s waiting.’ She used her formal business tone, reserved only for grumpy library customers, to mask the anxiety pumping through her chest.
‘Top-secret mission. Love it,’ he joked.
They drove mostly in silence, or more accurately in annoyingly subtle music, for a while. And, eventually, the traffic and the heat got to them. Zac grew steadily more frustrated as the temperature ramped up in the car as the traffic crawled along.
‘This is meant to be a twenty-minute drive, if that, and I feel like we’ve been here for an hour.’
‘It’s been half an hour, and we’re nearly there,’ Aleisha said consolingly. She realized she was using the voice Aidan sometimes adopted with Leilah, and her mind flew to the two of them. What were they doing? Was Aidan sitting with Leilah? Were they watching a film? She felt a pang of guilt that she was here, with someone, and they were both at home. She could have been spending the evening with her brother, for the first time in for ever.
She gulped the regret down, with no time to waste or wallow, and as they pulled up, Aleisha jumped out of the car and knocked on the Hanwell Library door. The librarian was sitting there, typing something into her computer, the angry customer’s books already stacked up next to her, ordered, as suspected, to the wrong library.
After another twenty-six-minute drive, more sassy comments from Zac, through the traffic and damp heat of the North Circular, Aleisha finally dropped the books off with the woman right on her doorstep.
‘Finally,’ the woman said.
‘You’re welcome,’ Aleisha beamed back, hoping the woman could smell the sarcasm.
‘Took you long enough.’ She took the books and shut her door with no whisper of thanks.
Aleisha rolled her eyes – she so wanted to say something back, to shout through the letter box, but she thought of Marmee, the March sisters’ mum, who was all about being polite to anyone and everyone. She was fictional, but she was right. It wasn’t worth it.
Jumping back in the car, she barked directions off her phone, hoping that Zac was okay with doing one last trip before their evening out.
‘Right here – after that sign.’
‘Okay, boss.’
‘End of this road, take a left, following the signs to Wembley High Road.’
‘Got it, boss.’
‘Then it’s the next left, followed by the third right.’
‘Hold on, hold on, you’re going too fast.’ He switched the radio off, wound up the windows and turned the AC on. ‘That’s better, finally space to think.’
Aleisha rolled her eyes. Zac’s gaze was fixed firmly on the road.
‘Left onto here!’ she called. ‘Quick, or you’ll miss it!’
‘What! Where was the advanced warning?’ He checked his mirrors and took a tight left turn.
They pulled up at the house as her phone told her: ‘You have now reached your destination.’ A car was sitting in the drive.
‘Just wait here,’ she told Zac, and grabbed another book from her bag.
Zac kept the car idling. Aleisha felt nervous as she approached the door. She was definitely breaking library rules, using the system to find out his address. She hoped Mr P wouldn’t tell on her.
She rang the doorbell. Aleisha could hear a voice inside, but not Mr P’s. The TV was probably on. One of those Indian channels. A little while later, when Aleisha was about to turn away and give up hope, the door opened to reveal a woman, in her seventies perhaps, wearing a dark blue Punjabi suit with a white contrast scarf around her neck.
‘Hello, how may I help?’ the lady said. Her voice was quite low but held warmth.
‘Hello, I am here to give a book to Mr Patel. He didn’t pick it up from the library today … it was on my way home … thought I’d drop it off.’
‘Mukeshbhai!’ the woman called into the house. Mr P shuffled through a doorway. He was wearing jogging bottoms with a few turmeric-coloured spillages dotted on the lap area and a T-shirt once white, now a dull grey, again with a ketchup stain on the chest. Aleisha had never seen him in anything other than nice trousers, a shirt and his trusty cap.
As soon as he saw her, his face dropped. ‘Miss Aleisha! No, you shouldn’t see me like this.’
He hurried back the way he had come.
‘Hold on, darling. Can you wait?’ the woman said. Aleisha nodded. She looked back at Zac in the car. He was resting his head back on his car seat, staring at the ceiling.
She heard their muffled voices coming from what she thought must be the living room, but they were speaking in another language and Aleisha couldn’t make out their words.
Just as Aleisha thought she should probably leave, Mr P came out again, wearing a winter coat covering his spillages; he was sweating.
‘Come in. Nilakshiben has made dinner. She would like you to eat with us. I need to get a shirt on.’
The woman came back to the door as Mr Patel made his way to another room, slowly. She could see his hip was causing him pain.
‘Is he okay?’ Aleisha asked.
‘He had a bit of a fall yesterday but he’s totally fine. He was running around after his grandchildren, and now feels a little bit useless. I am looking after him today.’
‘I really don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to drop this off,’ she held the book out to Nilakshiben.
‘No, I insist. Come in and eat. It is dinner time.’
‘No, it’s fine, thank you so much, but my friend is in the car, waiting.’
‘Invite your friend in too.’
Their conversation went back and forth like that for a little while, until Aleisha gave in. This lady wasn’t taking no for an answer. She checked her watch. Her mind flew to Aidan and Leilah at home – she still had some time, but would Aidan need her much before he went to work? If she stayed for an hour, she’d make it home in plenty of time, she reasoned.
All she needed to do now was convince Zac that this was a good idea.
Chapter 26
ALEISHA
‘I HATE SOCIALIZING!’
‘Zac, he’s like eighty years old, just be nice!’ Aleisha whispered back, feeling like they were having their first domestic. She’d practically had to drag him from his car.
Nilakshiben and Mr P had been very welcoming, standing in a line from the door like
a welcoming party. Zac seemed a bit creeped out by it all, shuffling awkwardly through the hallway; he probably hadn’t expected their first date to go anything like this.
Was this a date? Aleisha asked herself. Or would it have been? A drive through Richmond Park seemed pretty datey – the kind of thing Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet might do.
The table had been set for two people, but Nilakshiben was pulling out a couple more spoons, and two more plates. After she brought the big standing fan from the living room into the kitchen, they all sat down, as Nilakshiben dished a roti (she pronounced it rotli) onto each of their plates and started serving out different vegetable and dhal dishes.
‘Aleisha, do you want some dhal?’ she asked, already spooning a huge helping onto her plate.
‘Young man, any bhindi nu shaak for you?’ she asked Zac, once there was already a pile of okra dished up for him. ‘Any more?’
After washing their hands, Nilakshiben and Mr P tucked in immediately. Zac and Aleisha followed suit, observing them to make sure they’d mastered the art of eating with their hands. Their spoons sat forgotten on the table. Zac had ripped off too small a piece of the rotli to scoop some food. Aleisha noticed Mr P observing; she could tell he wanted to help Zac, but didn’t want to embarrass him either.
After practically demolishing his plate, Mr P spoke first. ‘Nilakshiben, this is delicious. Thank you.’
‘That is quite okay. Get your strength up. Be well,’ was all Nilakshiben said.
‘What happened?’ Aleisha asked, concerned.
‘Technically, I took a fall. But that is not not not true. The fall took me.’ Mr P smiled at his joke, but no one smiled back. Nilakshiben patted him on the shoulder with the ball of her hand, her eyebrows puckered in a semi-frown.
‘We missed you at the library,’ Aleisha said.
Mr P looked up at her, smiling – spinach between his teeth.
‘I wanted to bring you your next book. Have you finished Pride and Prejudice yet? I know you read quickly.’
‘I read quickly so I can get to the library and get the next book you recommend me! But Miss Aleisha, this one has taken me longer to finish. I, er, had a few family dramas of my own to contend with,’ he chuckled, glancing at Nilakshiben who smiled back warmly. ‘I couldn’t take on the Bennets’ soap operas too, but now all is better. And this home service is lovely.’ He pronounced it ‘lubly’ and Aleisha’s heart ached a little bit.
‘What do you do, my son?’ Mr P said, turning to Zac, swiftly changing the subject.
Zac stiffened slightly at being addressed. ‘I am at university. Well, on my university holidays.’
‘Ah, very good, very good. What you study?’
‘I study law,’ he said, almost mimicking Mr Patel’s way of speaking. They were both nervous, and Aleisha wished the ground would swallow her up. It felt as though her boyfriend was meeting her parents for the first time.
‘That is good! Very very good! I always wanted one of my many many daughters to study the law, but instead business, which is good too. Very very good.’
‘I really enjoy it, Mr Patel.’
‘You know, Miss Aleisha is going to be a lawyer too. I remember when we met, and you were so rude and grumpy,’ he said, turning to Aleisha, pride written all over his face. ‘Like a proper barrister!’ Mr P laughed, Nilakshiben tutted.
‘Mukeshbhai, why do you say that? I cannot imagine this young lady being rude at all.’
‘I was. I didn’t mean to be, and I’m very sorry. We’re okay now though, right, Mr P? You’ve forgiven me.’
‘Of course! You recommend me top-notch books.’
‘Ah, of course. It is you, the librarian I have heard so much about!’ Nilakshiben said.
‘I suppose so,’ Aleisha didn’t want to say and I’ve heard so much about you because she hadn’t heard anything at all. ‘Have you been … erm … friends a long time?’
‘Not really. We are friends now. I was very best friends with his wife, Naina. But Mukeshbhai and I keep each other company. I watch TV; he reads your books.’
Aleisha could feel Zac’s eyes on her, but she didn’t want to look back in case it made her laugh. ‘That’s really lovely.’
‘Some people think we must be more than friends. At the mandir,’ Mr P chipped in. The tips of his ears were a little pink.
‘The temple,’ Aleisha clarified, when he saw Zac’s confused face.
‘As well as my interfering daughters,’ Mr P continued. ‘They cannot understand that a man and a woman can just be friends. It’s all forgiven now though – family is family. But you two, you are also just friends?’ He raised an eyebrow, mischievously.
Aleisha and Zac both looked at their plates.
‘Oh no! I am so silly, silly!’ His eyes were glinting. ‘You youngsters don’t like the “labels”! You never want to say that you are a couple until you are walking down the aisle, if people still do that these days?’
Zac burst into laughter. ‘This is really awkward,’ he said. ‘I wanted to take her out on a date this evening, so I have no idea what is going on.’
Aleisha put her face in her hands. Mukesh, Nilakshiben, and Zac giggled.
‘That is a good choice. She is a very good, lovely girl,’ Mr P said. Nilakshiben nodded too. Aleisha wanted to die.
After their first course, there was another meal of rice, mung beans (which Mr P said he made himself) and some greenish-yellow sauce, apparently made of yoghurt. Zac and Aleisha ate with spoons, but Nilakshiben and Mukesh ate with their hands. Aleisha was mesmerized. They managed to do it so effectively, without once looking sloppy or gross.
After dinner, they sat down in the living room. Nilakshiben turned the TV on to one of the Indian channels, but the volume was low and they just sat for a little while letting their food go down. Mukesh had one foot propped up on a chair, and he kept making ‘oof’ noises every so often.
There was even one tiny toot, but no one owned up to it. Aleisha noticed that Mr P didn’t look embarrassed at all. Zac, on the other hand, certainly did, probably worried that Aleisha might think it was him.
‘Usually we sit here in our own little worlds, don’t we, Mukeshbhai?’ Nilakshiben said.
‘Ha, we do!’ Mukesh smiled widely. ‘She gave me some noise-cancelling earmuffs so I can read while she watches Zee TV!’ He looked so proud of himself. ‘No more watching documentaries for me!’
‘That’s dedication to the cause, Mr P,’ Aleisha smiled at Zac, who finally seemed less uncomfortable about it all. ‘Nilakshiben, what do you normally watch on Zee TV?’
‘Usually soap operas. My favourite is Bhabiji Ghar Par Hai, but recently I’ve been watching Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, like Indian X Factor! And beti, you can just call me Nilakshi. Ben means sister, and even though I feel as young as you, I am not quite your sister!’ Mr P and Nilakshi started chuckling, Aleisha and Zac joined in.
‘I think you’ll really like the next book, Mr P. It’s Little Women.’
Mukesh lit up. ‘My granddaughter, Priya, has read this! She said my Naina gave it to her.’
Aleisha nodded, ‘I remember you telling me. It’s brilliant, but a little bit sad, just to warn you.’
‘I can do sad, I read The Kite Runner, ne?’ he replied.
The sun was shining through the window now, just as it was setting, and the room had a faint orange glow.
‘Could someone turn the light on?’ Mukesh asked. ‘Your nice faces are disappearing.’
Zac hopped up, switched the light on, and then closed the curtains without being asked.
Aleisha took in the room now, properly. Her eye was drawn to a cushion, adorned with bold, bright paisley. It didn’t match the other decoration, but everything fitted together in mismatch harmony.
‘This is lovely, this cushion,’ Aleisha said, picking it up. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘My wife’s sari. My youngest daughter Deepali is very good at sewing. She made it for me. Just after Naina died. I never notice them any more. Y
ou know when things fade into familiarity,’ Mukesh said. ‘I am glad you pointed them out.’ Then he whispered, almost to himself, ‘Naina is always here.’
Aleisha’s eyes moved to a woman’s portrait framed on the wall with a garland hanging from the top left corner to the top right, tracing the line of her necklace. She looked young; she was beautiful. Mukesh followed her gaze too. His face dropped, his cheeks soft.
‘Are you okay?’ Zac asked Mukesh.
‘I am. I am okay.’
Nilakshi nodded, looking at the photograph. ‘Naina was amazing. Aleisha, you would have loved her. The most generous.’
‘More generous than you?’ Aleisha asked, and then wished she hadn’t, because the air in the room suddenly became a little bit heavier.
‘Yes, much more generous than me. She has always been kind. I think it was she who taught me how to be kind. And her daughters. She always raised them to love others, to think of others before themselves.’
‘I have never met them. Do you see them often, Mr P?’
‘Sometimes. They are busy girls.’
The rest of the evening was peaceful; Aleisha felt almost as though she was someone different, in another world entirely. Everything else beyond these four walls – it simply didn’t exist for now. They listened to some music on the television: bhajans, Nilakshi called them. They were gentle, meditative. Aleisha could have sat there all day.
Zac looked at Aleisha. ‘We’d better get going. To get you back home on time?’
She looked at her watch. Oh god. It was already ten past ten. Aidan would have had to leave the house at nine; Leilah would be waiting. Her heart began to beat frantically.
‘I’m so sorry, Mr P, Nilakshi, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to get back to my mum. Thank you!’ She rushed out her words in a torrent and pulled her shoes on as quickly as she could. Zac bumbled behind her.
‘You all right?’ he said when they got outside.
‘My mum, she’s not meant to be on her own. I promised my brother I’d be back by nine.’
The Reading List Page 24
