Have a Heart

by Nashina Makhani

  It was a half-truth, I only left out the part where she needed to be checked over by a heart specialist too. But all the same, I hated that I could deliver it so easily. I had no idea when that’d happened, no idea when I developed this ability to deceive people so easily. I had no choice, not unless I wanted to break my promise to Alia and cause a panic to boot; knowing that didn’t make it any easier though.

  The lies eased their minds though and I took comfort in that, even when it kinda backfired and they forbade me from going to the hospital the next day. They knew my exam schedule, knew that the first one was in two days and told me that, if the doctors were only keeping Alia for observation, there was no need to be worried, I could focus on my studies. And to make sure I didn’t sneak off anyway, I spent the day at the Sharma house under their supervision.

  All day, I tried my hardest to make it seem like I was putting my efforts into my work, putting on a fairly convincing act, if I do say so myself. But I couldn’t manage to convince myself, couldn’t actually manage to do it. Inside my own head, I worried, thoughts coming and going and chasing each other round, moving faster than I could process.

  Four ‘o’ clock rolled around and bhaiya came home; he hung around for all of five minutes before him and uncle left again, going to pick Alia up. At that point, I gave up even trying, telling aunty I needed a break and coaxing Zia into switching the TV off to play with me.

  For two hours, I entertained the toddler; having to keep up with her, switching from one activity to another, it kept me busy enough that I actually managed to stop worrying.

  And then they came back, Alia in tow. From the minute they walked in, it was obvious that there was something wrong. She was quiet, far too quiet, saying nothing to me but a hi as they came in.

  By some unspoken agreement, everybody acted like it was all normal, nothing out of the ordinary, but we all knew that something was off, even little Zia. The usually hyper toddler was sat quietly, curled up next to the younger of her two aunts as Alia read to her, one thumb in her mouth and the other arm wrapped around her favourite teddy bear, all the while sitting uncharacteristically still.

  At some point, somebody switched the TV on, turning it to B4U, the only music channel anyone of us knew. It played in the background, the volume just loud enough for us all to hear but really, not one of us was even paying attention, busy as we were thinking.

  I’m no mind reader but I can guarantee you that the same thought was running through all our heads in that moment: what had the doctors said?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thursday meant the first of out five exams. Unsurprisingly, Alia didn’t listen to us when we told her that she didn’t have to sit them, that if she informed the exam board of the circumstances, they’d let her take them later. It didn’t matter that she’d only been out the hospital a day; there was no way she’d delay the exams, it’d throw off all her plans. And that simply wasn’t allowed.

  So that morning, the two of us got on my bike – a compromise to solve the problem of her parents not wanting her to drive or walk and her not wanting to be dropped off. It was strange, how absolutely normal it was. In the midst of all the abnormality, the two of us on my bike, my stuff shoved in the small saddlebag to allow us both enough space to sit on the seat. Alia’s arms were wrapped around my waist, helping her stay balanced on the bike, her head resting on my shoulder, just like always.

  I revelled in the familiarity of it all, hating the shortness of the drive more than ever when we pulled up at school, having to get down off the bike. For once, it wasn’t my dislike for the destination or even my hatred for exams that made me feel that way. For the first time, it was because I didn’t want to have to face the person who’d been sat behind me.

  There was no two ways about it and I knew that but I was still hesitant to get down and look at her – the girl who wore my best friends face and clothes, yet looked nothing like her.

  Taking a breath to steel myself, I swung myself off the bike and turned to face the girl who was waiting for me. When I finally managed to force myself to look at her, the look on her face shattered me. Gone was the confident girl ready to take on anything, be it exams or the entire damn world. The way she was stood, head ducked like she could make herself smaller, nervously playing with the sleeves of her hoodie. Seeing her like that only served to reinforce what I’d been thinking since the night before: I didn’t know this girl anymore.

  I angrily shoved the thought aside, grabbing my stuff from the saddlebag and shoving it all inside the messenger bag that was folded up underneath, shouldering it before making my way towards the girl I absolutely did know, thank you very much stupid brain. ‘Come on them, we’ve got an exam to be getting to,’ I told her with false cheer.

  ‘Who are you and what the hell’ve you done with my best friend?’ she joked, finally snapping out of the dreamworld she’d been in since before I’d left the hospital on Wednesday evening, looking at me with a small smile.

  ‘I could ask you the same,’ I muttered, knowing she hadn’t heard when the smile didn’t drop from her face. ‘Come on then,’ I said, speaking up so she could hear me, ‘we don’t want to be late.’ She nodded and we set off in the direction of the sports hall.

  ***

  Strangely, once I sat down in my desk, my focus narrowed solely to the test paper in front of me.

  It was the strangest thing; I’d never experienced it before, had never been able to get myself to concentrate on just the one thing, especially not sat in an exam hall. Usually, my mind went haywire in exams, either going completely blank or frantically searching for distractions from the second I stepped into the hall. But not this time; this time, it was surprisingly clear, the information I’d revised not fleeing my brain like it usually did.

  Of course, part of me understood why my brain was so clear but, for the duration of the exam at least, I didn’t let myself pay any attention to the reasoning because I absolutely hated it. And I knew that if I let myself, it’d take over.

  So, I shoved aside the side of my brain that was ruled by emotions and focused on the logic, the formulae and methods I’d need when the invigilator told us we could open our booklets. Never in my life had I been so eager for a test to start; it definitely wasn’t like me. But that pesky little voice in my head that was trying to overpower the equations I was repeating grew louder with every passing second as I sat there, waiting for the clock to strike nine.

  I almost felt disgusted with myself at the glee I felt when the invigilator finally did announce that it was time to start, the rustling pages of fifty students opening their answer booklets helping to drown out my thoughts and the problem on the page completely silencing them.

  I very nearly grinned as I read the question, both because that voice had finally shut up and because I knew exactly how to answer it. Still, I made sure to read it through twice before I set pen to paper, just to be sure, and started writing out all the equations I needed, not even stopping to think about them.

  For the first time in my life, I didn’t think of the other people in the exam hall, didn’t let my attention wander but focused entirely on the exam.

  ***

  I finished the paper in record timing. It felt like it’d only been minutes since I’d turned the first page of the question paper when I turned the final page. Looking up at the clock, I saw that it’d been just about an hour since the exam started. For a second, I sat there, staring up at the clock, wondering if I was reading it right.

  It took me a minute or two to realise that the clock wasn’t wrong and that, for the first time I could remember, I actually had time to double check my answers. Even once I’d done that, there was time left over. It fascinated me how easy it was to finish a paper when I didn’t spend the time alternating between looking around me hopelessly, staring at the questions desperately trying to remember something and staring at the clock trying to make it go faster by sheer force of will.

  One thing that didn’t chang
e though was that I couldn’t get out of the hall fast enough once they’d collected the papers. I all but ran for the doors, barely even stopping to pick up my phone on the way out of the hall.

  Of course, because we had to sit in alphabetical order, Alia was sat several rows behind me, her paper was collected later than mine so I still had to stand around in the car park waiting for her but at least I wasn’t in the hall anymore.

  ‘That. Was. Hell,’ she grumbled as she finally got to the bike.

  ‘You found it bad?’ I asked, eyebrows shooting upwards.

  ‘The exam was alright. I’m just not a fan of the sports hall.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone is Li,’ I laughed, happy to have a safe topic of conversation, one that I was hoping might lead to our usual easy banter.

  ‘Point,’ she conceded with a soft chuckle. ‘But, I dunno, after the hospital, the bright lights, sterile smell…’ I blinked at her, a little shocked at the revelation given that she’d not said a word about the hospital since she’d been released.

  But she offered nothing more than that and I knew better than to push for it. Instead, I swung a leg over the bike and patted the seat behind me, asking her if she wanted to stop at the chippy on the way home as she pulled herself on the seat behind me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Exams passed way faster than I was expecting them to, maybe because this time I actually felt prepared for them or because I’d never be sitting exams like this again. Before I knew it, we were halfway through June and even the last of our exams was done with, all that was left was the excruciating wait for the results. A wait that was worse than ever this year because whatever was on that piece of paper we’d receive at the end of summer determined what happened next, where we would go for uni and well, pretty much the rest of our lives.

  Honestly, I’d never really cared too much about exams or results, always telling everyone that no matter what happened, I’d figure something out.

  But now, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, the air in front of me my future and the results I was waiting for the thing that would decide whether I flew or fell. Alia kept telling me I had nothing to be worrying about, that I was overthinking things and I was plenty smart enough, of course I’d done well. But, for the first time I could remember, I just couldn’t stop thinking of those Godforsaken results.

  The reassurance that I’d done well did nothing to help. It did the exact opposite really.

  The more aunty told me I had nothing to fear, the more scared I got. The more uncle told me he was sure I’d done well, the more I doubted it. The more Zain bhai, Maya bhabhi and Anjali di told me that I was smart and had studied my ass off, done the best I could, the more I felt that maybe smart wasn’t smart enough, maybe I could’ve studied a little more and maybe doing my best wasn’t quite good enough.

  Even Zia tried to get me to relax, telling me she knew her unc’a Jai’s smart’s it ge’s and a’ways passes ever’thing. In all honesty, her words were the only ones that made the slightest difference, making me realise I needed to make my concerns a little less obvious, less visible – even if I couldn’t control them.

  And, for a while, it worked. Over the six weeks between the last exam and results day, I managed to keep my anxiety to a minimum, keeping myself busy during the day, helping Alia to finally work on taking better care of herself, living a bit better lifestyle, and entertaining the three-year-old who didn’t have playgroup over summer. My thoughts only had time to drift to exams and results at night but, even then, I’d learnt to keep them below a certain level, taking advice from Alia – who had far more experience in stressing about results than I did – and putting a light-hearted show or film on at night. It worked wonders, the jokes and laughs and light voices driving out all other thoughts, helping my brain to mellow out enough that I could fall asleep and continuing on through the night, keeping the anxiety-induced nightmares at bay.

  And then, on the 17th of August, it all went to hell.

  I woke up to a reminder email from the school office telling me to be there for nine the next day to pick up results and my panic came flooding back in full force.

  I spent the entire morning pacing from the sitting room to the kitchen and back again, checking my watch every few minutes until I finally deemed it a decent time to head over to the Sharma household. When the clock hit eleven, I decided that I couldn’t stand another second alone with my own brain, that I’d rather deal with a pissed off, half-asleep Alia than torture myself with my thoughts any longer. So I grabbed my phone from where I’d thrown it on the sofa, shoved it in my pocket and left my house, nearly forgetting to lock the door behind me before walking down the street to my second home.

  I let myself in to the house, thinking that both Alia and Zia would probably still be asleep, fully aware that they both tended to go to sleep late and wake up later in the holidays, not expecting anyone else to be home.

  As soon as I was through the door though, I was met with Zia running through the entryway, giggling like mad, her dad two steps behind her. ‘Bhaiya, hi,’ I greeted as he came to a stop in front of me while Zia barrelled straight into my legs. ‘I didn’t know you’d be home today.’

  ‘Took the day off to make sure you and Alia don’t end up having panic attacks about your results,’ he told me. ‘Though, I have to say, she’s surprisingly calm, she is; can’t say the same ‘bout you though. Seems like the two of you’ve gone and switched personalities or something.’

  ‘Looks like, yeah,’ I sighed. ‘I just… these aren’t just some time pass test results. Everything depends on these results, uni, job, my entire future.’

  Bhaiya nodded and let out a breath before leaning down to pick up the little monkey who’d moved from clinging on to my legs to cling to her dad’s. ‘Tell you what, let me get Alia to watch Zi for a while and you and I can go out, get some food and have a chat, eh? Calm your nerves a bit,’ he offered. Given that I’d never really spent time with bhaiya like that before, I was a little shocked by the offer but accepted with a nod nonetheless, hoping that he really would be able to help me relax somehow. ‘Right then, I’ll be back in a few. Let me just go give this little madam to her fui and we can go.’ I nodded again and he took Zia through to the sitting room.

  I stayed stood in the entryway, waiting for the two minutes it took for him to leave Zia with Alia and come back. ‘Chalo, let’s go,’ he said, grabbing his keys from the hook and shoving his feet in his shoes before leading the way to the car.

  ***

  To my surprise, he didn’t take us to Nottingham but down the A46 towards Leicester. ‘Bhaiya, where’re we going?’ I asked as we got on the A-road, confused.

  ‘You’ll see,’ was all he said before switching the sound system on and cranking up the volume, rolling the windows down. I laughed, looking at him in surprise, not expecting the usually serious man to be just like his little sister where music was concerned. He looked at me a second, raising his eyebrows a little, clearly amused at my surprise, before singing along.

  For a minute, I was a little unsure of what I should do. And then, as the song reached the second chorus, I figured what the hell? I may as well join in.

  ***

  By the time we found parking on one of the side streets near our destination, my nerves had calmed significantly.

  I’d not been paying all that much attention as we’d been driving, only registering that we were on Melton Road or The Golden Mile as it was referred to on the signs. Now that we were parked, I recognised where we were, grinning as we both climbed out the car. ‘I’ve not been here in years,’ I said, filled with nostalgia and childhood memories in the short walk between the car and the hole-in-the-wall kebab shop that was our destination.

  ‘You remember?’ bhaiya asked, eyebrows raised.

  ‘Of course I do. Best donner kebab in the East Mids,’ I told him. ‘Haven’t had anything like it since… well, since dad passed away.’

  ‘Oh your dad loved thi
s place,’ he said. ‘Every weekend, the plan was fixed.’

  ‘Yaad che, we’d all pile into uncle’s Shogun; me, Li and didi always so annoyed that you got to sit in the middle row with the adults while we got shoved in the back. Ma and aunty nattering away about some show and dad and uncle talking about the sports. We’d come here first, pick up food and go to dadi’s house. Eat and then go meet everyone at the cinema, watch whatever new Bollywood film was playing,’ I reminisced, feeling both happy and sad at the memories. It’d all ended years ago, lasting only a little while after dadi had passed away – Alia’s dadi that is; I’d never known my own grandparents, all of them having passed away before I was born. The only reason to come down to Leicester after that was to go to the cemetery – not exactly something that put one in the mood for a kebab.

  ‘Those were the days huh?’ he asked with a little laugh as we walked up the three metal steps in front of the green-fronted building, pushing open the door. ‘This place hasn’t changed a bit though huh?’

  ‘Like it’s frozen in time,’ I agreed with a laugh.

  ‘Even the people behind the counter,’ he remarked with a gesture. I looked and saw he was right, the same uncle was sat behind the counter taking orders, the same men standing at the chip fryers, kebab stand and flat top.

  ‘Nice to know somethings don’t change.’ Bhaiya hummed his agreement and then headed for the counter to place the order, telling me to sit down at one of the two tables that filled half the small space.

  I sat at that little table, looking around for a minute or two before shifting my gaze to the table top, staring at it as I lost myself in thought – which, of course, was a bad idea.

  By the time bhaiya sat in the seat opposite me, sliding a can of passion fruit Rubicon across the table to me, cracking open his own. ‘Food’ll be ready in a few,’ he told me. I nodded, staring at the drink for a second before wrapping my hands around it, my clammy hands tensing for a moment as they touched the cool metal.