‘It isn’t your fault.’ He could tell she wanted to disagree but had no energy to put up a fight. ‘I will call Nilakshiben. She will know what to do.’
He hadn’t meant to say the last bit out loud but Aleisha nodded. She was looking at her shoes, brushing one toe over the other. Her fingers clutched the palm of her right hand, the thumb pushing in as hard as it could. She was checking if she still had the ability to feel, to understand the world around her. Hoping, praying, that this was just a dream.
Nilakshi arrived half an hour later with snacks in hand. She had picked up some salt’n’shake crisps and some dhebra too. She offered the crisps to Aleisha, and when Aleisha asked instead about the dhebra, Nilakshi said, ‘Oh, just Indian food. You might not like it,’ but Aleisha tried it anyway. She ate the tiniest amount. No more than a fingertip-sized piece. She claimed that was enough. Mukesh wasn’t sure she had eaten for days.
Nilakshi didn’t say anything to Aleisha, but she embraced her, without awkwardness, without asking for permission. ‘My beta,’ she said softly, and held on as tightly as she could. Eventually, Aleisha pulled herself away, gently. ‘I should go home.’ They all nodded, and Nilakshi led them to her car.
They drove to Aleisha’s house in silence. As they parked, Aleisha stayed in the car, rooted to the spot. She was clearly terrified of setting foot back inside – she didn’t want to meet whatever was waiting for her there: sadness, emptiness, heartbreak. Mukesh didn’t blame her. He remembered his own house when Naina died. He couldn’t be in it. He couldn’t do anything there. Rohini had taken it upon herself to sort everything out for him. She’d tidied Naina’s things away for him, putting them in safe places, but making sure the house felt as if she was still there without reminding him that she was gone for ever. He wondered who would do this for Aleisha. Where was her father? Would he come home to help?
A voice inside Mukesh – perhaps Naina – told him to distract Aleisha, to help her focus on something else, to get her through the present moment. ‘Aleisha?’ he asked tentatively. ‘What did you think of Little Women? It’s good, ne?’
Her eyes darted up at him, and he knew he shouldn’t have said anything. ‘I don’t care about Little Women, Mr P!’ she snapped, but clutched her hand to her mouth – willing the words to unsay themselves. Softer this time, she continued: ‘I’ve spent too much time in books. I need to start living again, or who knows if I’ll fuck everything else up?’
She pushed herself out of the car. The Time Traveler’s Wife was sitting on the back seat. They watched Aleisha walk away, taking a moment for herself before stepping into her house. Just as she turned around to close the door, she glanced at them both one last time.
Mukesh smiled at her – hoping she would understand that he was trying to send her all the strength he had in that smile, and to show her all she had in her young life to look forward to. He also wanted it to say something like, ‘I’m always here if you need to talk.’ Though he hoped she had someone closer.
After a few moments, Mukesh picked up The Time Traveler’s Wife from the car seat, and took it over to Aleisha’s front door, where he posted it through as gently as he could. She might not need it right now. But if in one moment, minutes, days, weeks, or months from now, it might prove a comfort, an escape – just like it had for him – it would be worth it.
Chapter 33
ALEISHA
‘ALEISHA, I’VE BEEN TRYING to call you,’ Dean said down the phone, his voice laced with anxiety.
The glass of the screen felt like ice against her ear. ‘I don’t know what to do, Dad,’ Aleisha whispered.
It was her habit to speak quietly on the phone, especially to her dad, but Aleisha knew it was futile – Leilah was upstairs, dead to the world in her room.
She’d tried to get Leilah out of bed today, because she knew she should. But she also couldn’t bear being around her in the same way she couldn’t bear being around herself. They were both to blame.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ she repeated, a tear tracking down her cheek. And it felt like the first time she’d been honest with her dad in years. ‘I don’t know how to fix things.’
‘I know, sweetheart.’ His voice was cracking, but she couldn’t bear his emotion. He didn’t understand her. He didn’t understand anything. ‘We can work this out together. What can I do to help? I can come over, help with anything. Just tell me. You don’t need to take this all on alone, okay? I know what you must be going through. How is your mum?’