‘Oh, Naina,’ he said, out loud. ‘What am I doing here?’
Someone, hidden away in the corner, shushed him quite aggressively and his head jumped up in fright. How long did he need to wait here for it not to look as though he’d made a silly mistake? It was obvious he wouldn’t be taking a driving test any time soon! What would people think of him, panicking like that? He read the entire contents page, and then some of the Introduction, which was interesting, though entirely irrelevant to his day-to-day life. He’d long since given up driving. His daughters had seen to that.
As he sat there, he could feel The Time Traveler’s Wife burning a hole through his canvas bag, drawing his attention. He’d been unable to give the book back at the crucial moment. He knew, if he gave it back now, he’d get into so much trouble for keeping it so long. Maybe he could escape into its pages, to take his mind off this terrible, awkward, embarrassing trip …
He heard footsteps behind him, the only sound breaking the silence, and, with no time to pull out The Time Traveler’s Wife, he delved back into The Highway Code. Something was clack, clack, clacking – he glanced over his shoulder, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. His eyes opened wide in horror as he saw it was the girl. She was holding a book between her hands – probably to mock him. Her nails, long and pointy, were doing the ‘clack, clack, clacking’ on the cover.
‘Sir?’ she said. She sounded polite this time, but he couldn’t trust her. His head snapped back to the pages. He wanted to read this fascinating book in peace.
‘Sir?’ she repeated. ‘Is that what you were looking for?’ She pointed down at The Highway Code. ‘I could have found that for you if you had told me.’
‘Don’t call me “Sir”， I am not your “Sir”！’ Mukesh stood up, bristling with anger and embarrassment.
With that, he picked up The Highway Code and marched towards the door as quickly as he could manage, pressing the automatic open button （hardly automatic open!） to let himself out. His head held high, he ignored the beeps from the detectors, forgetting the stolen book in his hands.
Arriving home, Mukesh opened the door to emptiness; he was calmer now but his eyes were prickling with tears, his ears burning with shame. Slipping off his shoes at the door, he threw his canvas bag down onto his chair in the living room with unexpected force before checking his landline for messages. There was another from Rohini, ending with ‘Papa, call me when you get this. We need to know what to cook when we visit on Friday, I’ll need to do the shopping tomorrow. I hope you’ve been eating properly.’
He slumped down onto his sofa. Rohini’s message only served to increase the pounding of his heart. Last week Priya had begged him for something to read. She’d left her own book at home and had nothing to pass the time. He’d suggested watching Blue Planet. She’d groaned at him.
‘I wish Ba was here! She had so many books.’
Priya and Naina had been forever wrapped up in books. Naina would hole up with Priya in their downstairs bedroom – they’d make a fort out of sheets and cushions and sit together and read. He would hear them talking about characters as though they were real-life people. He thought it fanciful, but completely lovely. He watched his documentaries with the same passion instead. Just as educational, but easier on the eyes. He really wanted Priya to love David Attenborough as much as he did.
‘I have a book,’ Mukesh had said to his granddaughter, as he hurried upstairs to his box room. The bookshelf now showcased only the dusty plastic-jacketed copy of The Time Traveler’s Wife.
When he brought it down to her, held out in his hands, Priya’s face showed nothing but outrage. ‘Here, Priya. Even I have read this one, it is the most beautiful story.’
‘Dada, this is too grown-up for me!’ Mukesh could see her cheeks start to glow red with frustration. ‘I wish Ba was here. She would know. You don’t get books, Dada,’ her bottom lip began to quiver, and then, eventually, she sniffed: ‘You just don’t care!’ Priya slapped the book out of his hands and commenced an uncharacteristic temper tantrum.
His heart crashed, a punch to the chest. He let his eyes glaze over, wishing to be spirited away, desperate to hear Naina’s voice once more, to feel her sitting beside him.
No. He couldn’t bear a repeat of that. He’d felt so ashamed, so useless … Naina would be so disappointed in him. ‘What can I do?’ he called out to the silent house.