Mukesh let the words hang in the air, and for a moment he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. Naina’s.
Aleisha kept staring at her desk. She refused to look up at him.
‘Aleisha,’ Mukesh said softly. ‘Please try to remember that books aren’t always an escape; sometimes books teach us things. They show us the world, they don’t hide it.’
That’s a proper Atticus moment, Mukesh, Naina whispered in his ear, louder than ever before. He steadied himself against the desk for a moment.
Mukesh waited for Aleisha. She didn’t respond and continued to scroll. Eventually, she let her phone sit beside her and just watched her screen.
Every so often, it would buzz and flash, sitting on the table in front of them and, while normally she’d turn it over, today she picked it up. Every single time. Her mind was somewhere else. It was understandable.
Mukesh didn’t want to upset her, but he thought it would be better for her not to look at her phone. His daughters were always doing this too. Always looking at their phone in the middle of conversations, like they were never really present.
‘What is it?’ Mukesh asked, trying to keep his voice light.
Aleisha showed him the screen. A photograph of Aidan, a girl and a boy, both squinting in the sunshine. Aidan had sunglasses on.
‘Lovely.’
‘It’s not lovely – look what they’ve written underneath.’
Mukesh could just about make out some typed words, but he couldn’t for the life of him work out what they said. ‘I can’t see,’ he admitted, and Aleisha read it out for him, hashtags and all.
‘Always there for me, always cared. Miss you Aid. Won’t ever forget you. #RIP #GoneButNeverForgotten #RestInParadise #Depression #TimeToTalk.’
‘That’s a nice tribute to him,’ Mukesh said.
‘No, it’s not,’ she sounded furious. ‘It takes five minutes to do an Instagram post, if that. They’re splashing my brother all over the internet, claiming a right to grief. They’ve even put the funeral on their story!’
Mukesh had no idea what that really meant – ‘story’ – but whatever it was had clearly upset Aleisha.
‘Who hashtags depression? They don’t even know it’s depression. And why the fuck would they tag him in it? Because he’ll see it from wherever he is? Paradise?’
‘I don’t know what that means.’
‘Look,’ Aleisha passed the phone to Mukesh. ‘Scroll down.’ Mukesh did as told, his fingers fumbling about until the image started to move.
There were dozens and dozens of photographs of Aidan with various people – there were some photos of the flower arrangement spelling out his name, and he recognized Nilakshi’s dining-room table with the food spread out all over it too. Everything. They had documented it all.
‘For everyone to gawp at. Everyone. Even people who didn’t know him. We wanted a small, intimate ceremony for friends and family, and now everyone has a piece of him.’
One tear, just one, slid down Aleisha’s cheek. She left it there so as not to draw attention to it. But Mukesh saw – he’d had three teenage daughters, all of whom had tried that same trick once in their lives, whether in response to the ending of It’s a Wonderful Life (the saddest film ever), or because someone had decided to slap them on the way home from school because of the colour of their skin and they needed to pretend that they were okay with it, that there was no one to blame.
‘I’m sorry, Aleisha, it is just their way of paying respect I think.’ Mukesh passed the phone back.
Aleisha began to obsessively scroll. She tapped a few things and started to type. He worried that she might be typing horrible emails to the people; he wondered if they would understand, if they would forgive her.
‘My dad has put a photograph of Aidan as a baby up on his Facebook profile. He hasn’t had any evidence of any of us on his Facebook since he got married again. Does a dead kid earn you respect, or something?’
Mukesh noticed that Aleisha’s natural tone had vanished – she was enunciating in a way she never had before.
‘Aleisha, I think you should go off these internet things. Please. For a little while, not just today.’
Aleisha looked him in the eye for the first time since he’d started talking about The Time Traveler’s Wife. Her face screwed up, she rubbed her eyes and she took three deep breaths.
‘You’re right,’ she said eventually, turning her phone face down on the table.
Mukesh nodded – yes, he was.
They sat alone in silence for a while, tucked away in a corner of the library. Mukesh looked around him – it was quiet now, but he remembered seeing people, people he felt he knew, a little community he felt a part of.
He took himself away to a separate part of the library, wanting to give Aleisha some space, but not wanting to be too far away. He stepped back into Beloved – he’d already finished reading it, but he didn’t want to ask for a new book. He didn’t want to put the pressure on her right now.
He flicked through the pages of Denver’s plan as she looked to escape the boundaries of their house, 124. Denver, who hadn’t left the house in twelve years; Denver, who had a terrible fear of the outside world – she had gone for help. She’d overcome her fears, and thirty women from the community turned up to help Denver in any way they could.
He looked around the library – in a way, those first steps that had brought him here had been a chance for Mukesh to ask for help, a chance for him to reach out to a community. While he had left the house in twelve years, he’d not read a book in many. And he’d never set foot in the library, not until this summer. He thought of the leaflets, the slogan imprinted on his mind: Save Our Libraries. Naina had always been talking about it, saying how devastating it was for a library to vanish. He thought of all those things he’d taken to heart, whether it was wisdom from the characters in the books he was reading, or the familiar faces who smiled as he walked in, or Aleisha advising him, guiding him, or that feeling of being able to talk to Priya, see her grow into a reader … This library had come to mean something to him. It had begun to feel like home. And a place is only what it is because of the people who make it. That’s what Naina always used to say about the mandir. And Aleisha had always said the library had meant something to Aidan too …
An idea hit him, a bolt from the blue, or perhaps from wise old Atticus Finch. He pushed himself up from his chair and stomped over to the front desk. ‘Aleisha?’ he said. His voice was quiet, no more than a whisper. The library was still almost empty, but in his mind it was full of everyone he’d met, fictional and non-fictional, over this one summer.
‘Yes?’ her reply came back sharply, and as soon as she heard it, he could tell she regretted her tone. ‘Yes,’ she said again, softly this time.
‘You know this?’ He held up one of the Save Our Libraries leaflets.
‘Yes?’
‘How are we actually meant to save our libraries, if we don’t ask for help?’
‘Er, Mr P, I think that’s what the leaflets are all about.’
‘Okay, fine, but … you know what I mentioned earlier, about Denver going to ask for help. What if we asked the community for help? Because, this library – it’s been helpful for me. It has made me bolder, it has given me friends. And I am just one person.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m not following,’ Aleisha’s face was expressionless.
‘Sitting here in silence with others can feel much less lonesome than sitting at home surrounded by my family constantly talking over me. It is nice, comforting, to see the same people every week. And it feels like I’ve got so much out of it, because I’ve got people to keep me company. I am just one person, and I have got all of this from stepping out of my house, from leaving my comfort zone, just like what Denver did … and now, here I am, at the library … a place that feels like it helps me. Now, you always mentioned Aidan loved this place too. What did he like about it?’
‘Peace. I think he found it peaceful. He could be alo
ne here. But he hasn’t come for years, unless it was for keeping an eye on me now and again. He was so busy.’
‘Okay, I understand. But this place, it was still very important to him, ne? And so many people come here for peace, or for friends. How would he feel about this Save Our Libraries thing?’
Aleisha shrugged.
‘Would he have been happy if the council closed this place down?’
Aleisha shrugged again.
‘I don’t think he would. I don’t think you would.’
Aleisha smiled, ‘No, you’re probably right. But, I don’t see what we can do? Everyone’s seen the leaflets, and there’s like a JustGiving page or something too.’
‘Okay, but I have a better idea.’ He waited for Aleisha to say something like, ‘Go on, I want to hear it’, but she didn’t. He continued anyway.
‘I know that you do lots of other things, like the book club stuff, I have seen the posters on the wall. But you must need to be busier, yes?’ Again, Aleisha remained silent. ‘So, I would like to do a community drop-in morning, or afternoon, or whatever you think is best. You’re the professional.’
Aleisha rolled her eyes, ‘I’m not the professional. What do you mean?’
‘No need for a library card, no need to take out books if you don’t want to. We could use this reception bit for a coffee and cake and food thing; people always come for food, especially if it’s free. Or even just a donation to charity. Every Wednesday perhaps. A chance to speak to people. And that can be the thing, talk to one new person every time you come. To help more people feel a little bit less lonely, and maybe help keep the library going. Because they don’t have to sign up, but as soon as they’re here, they’ll want to, won’t they? It can make it popular again!’
‘You think enough people would come? They’re not exactly a chatty bunch here, are they? Other than this one lady who comes on Tuesdays sometimes and she never stops talking.’
‘… It’s just a chance for us to ask for help, for the library, for each other too. Could we try? Could you ask? I think it would be nice – maybe people just need a little prod to talk to someone new.’
‘I don’t know if my boss would agree. Wouldn’t it just be the same people who come?’
‘He will like it because it will bring even more people to this library. It will be “come for the cakes, stay for the books – and the new friends!” Isn’t it? We could do flyers – but not like these sad ones,’ he held up the Save Our Libraries leaflets again.
She sighed. ‘I’ll ask.’
‘And, I thought, this first one … maybe it would be nice to be held in memory of Aidan. Even if he didn’t have the time to come here to sit and read in recent years, this place meant a lot to him. He wanted you to work here, didn’t he? And it has helped you too. Didn’t it? I think it helped you. Maybe this is how to help his memory live on, beyond those Instagrab posts.’
Aleisha nodded, a smile hiding in there somewhere.
At that moment, Crime Thriller Chris walked in, wearing a hoodie and jeans as usual.
‘Chris!’ Mukesh called over, his body zinging with excitement. ‘What do you think about a drop-in morning on Wednesdays at the library?’
Chris looked slightly taken aback – it was the most Mukesh had said to him in a long time; normally he just got a smile and a wave. ‘Errr, yeah, they’re quite good those kinds of things. My mum likes them. Coffee mornings.’
‘See!’ Mukesh pointed at Chris, looking at Aleisha. ‘So, you ask? Chris will bring his mother. This will be fantastic. I am excited.’ Mukesh was smiling from ear to ear, and Aleisha started to laugh. Chris shrugged, not sure what had just happened, and continued on his way to his usual spot.
‘Naina would love this! She loved this kind of thing – and now I’m the one doing it. And not even at the temple.’
Mukesh hopped up from his chair and gave Aleisha a tap on the shoulder, bending down to her at her desk very slowly because his back was much stiffer than he remembered. Because for a moment, he’d forgotten that now he was an old man with aching joints. For a moment, he had felt completely and utterly brand new.
Chapter 36
ALEISHA
NOW SHE’D SEEN THOSE flowers on the train platform through someone else’s eyes, shared on social media, with forty-five likes. The petals were browning, they were dying. They weren’t for ever. Aidan was in these people’s minds now, but like those flowers, he would one day be gone.
A drop-in morning in honour of Aidan … he would have laughed at the idea. He would have hated all the attention. But he had loved the library – he’d been so adamant she should take this job in the first place. The library had been his place for so many years. Maybe Mr P was right. And it was some small thing she could do, something she could control, to keep his memory alive – and to prove to him that the library had come to be important to her too. She knew that’s what he wanted. He wanted her to find peace here as well.
There was no time to waste – Mr P wouldn’t let this rest until it had been sorted. There had been that thing in his eyes: determination. He’d almost run out of the library, clutching Beloved to his chest, waving with one hand to her and to Call-Me-Chris Crime Thriller with the other.
She gave Kyle a ring, asked when he would next be in, if he was going to come for his shift later.
‘Yeah, I’ll be there.’
‘Great. Mr P has had some thoughts about what we can do to spice this place up a bit.’
‘The library?’
‘Yes, the library.’
‘Are you sure you’re okay, Aleisha?’ Kyle said.
‘Yeah, I’m okay. Distraction is helpful. This,’ she pointed to the screen, her makeshift flyer, ‘is strangely helpful.’
Kyle nodded. ‘Sounds like Mr P knows what he’s doing. They do say with age comes wisdom … So how many shifts do you have left before you go back to school?’
Aleisha shrugged. ‘Just one more week, so five or six maybe.’
‘God, that’s so soon. We’ll miss you.’
Aleisha shrugged, ‘Yeah, I think I’ve liked it here. Aidan said this would happen. That I’d surprise myself.’
‘What happened to “this is just a shitty summer job”? You were so reluctant to actually do anything on your first day.’
‘I was. It is just a shitty summer job. But you know, it’s grown on me,’ she said, the small hint of a smile on her lips.
It wasn’t long before Thermos Flask Dev turned up. Aleisha felt a rush of adrenaline. She was grateful when Kyle set the stage for her, opening with, ‘Aleisha’s got a great idea.’
Aleisha felt all the attention in the room turn to her. Her mouth became dry, as if she was preparing to give a speech, and then Atticus came to her mind. Atticus, in the courtroom. He’d shown no signs of weakness.
She took a deep breath, and the words tumbled out. ‘We want to propose,’ the word felt weird, but it was the right approach, Thermos was standing to attention. ‘We want to propose an open morning. We want to get more people in through the door. This place, it’s got friendly family vibes – we should use that. Help people get in the spirit of things, help this library become the centre of the community, y’know? A place to get people meeting, get them talking, opening up, discovering something new …’
‘Look, Aleisha, should you be here? I told you, please take as much time as you need,’ Thermos Flask said.
‘Distraction is good,’ she muttered under her breath, and then more loudly, she continued: ‘Anyway, so the open morning will be free for anyone to come along – they can meet new people, enjoy the peace and quiet, chat with friends. This place has always been a community hub – but it’s been a little quiet lately. Let’s change that.’
Dev slowly nodded, unscrewing the cap of his Thermos flask. ‘So, will people be encouraged to actually join the library too? That is a key thing for us.’
‘Yeah, definitely! Maybe Lucy or Benny could help out and give out flyers or something like that
on the day. We want to show people what a great space this is, so they’ll come for the cake, stay for the books – and the new friends.’
‘Great – that’s exactly what we need to be doing. In all honesty, it’s been a stretch keeping this place going for so long. The council are always worrying about budgets, especially when we compare our usage to the Civic Centre.’ Dev took a long sip from his flask. ‘The knitting club was a great idea, but now we’re just down to a couple of regulars – and only Lucy runs it, and she barely has the time. The book club, also not as popular as it used to be. But this … it might work. The library isn’t just about books.’
Kyle and Aleisha glanced at each other, a thread of hope between them.
‘How about we try it out one Wednesday morning? Our quietest time!’
Kyle and Aleisha nodded.
‘Perfect. I love it. This place, it’s about connection. This idea … Aleisha, it really does get that. Love it,’ he said. ‘I think we should trial it – next week, see the turn-out. We can always start it on a smaller scale – once a month, or every other month.’
‘A week doesn’t give us a lot of time to spread the word.’
‘Well, you’d better get going then.’
Aleisha looked at Kyle who’d been sitting back and watching it all unfold. She smiled and he raised his eyebrows, giving her a double thumbs up.
She couldn’t wait to tell Mr P.
Chapter 37
MUKESH
BEEP. ‘ROHINI, PLEASE CAN you come with some trays of food for next Wednesday, deliver them to my house Tuesday evening, maybe bring some of those samosas you make? That would be nice. It’s for the library, an open morning. And I am helping organize.’
BEEP. ‘Vritti? I need your cooking assistance – do you have some nibbles you can bring for an open morning, for next Wednesday? Please deliver at my house on Tuesday evening. Something hy-po-all-er-gen-ic.’
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