Mukesh nodded. He understood.
Zac handed Mukesh a cup of tea and asked Priya if she’d like one too. In the background, Rohini said, ‘She doesn’t drink tea,’ but Priya said, ‘I would love one please, Zac,’ so he passed her a cup.
Priya smiled, putting her book down, wrapping both hands around her mug. She looked at her mother and playfully stuck out her tongue.
Mukesh wandered back to his chair and he sat down. He looked around the living room, completely full of movement, the twins back to running up and down the corridor outside too. He hadn’t had this many people in his house since Naina died.
He thought of Aleisha, Leilah, in their silent home.
PART IX
A SUITABLE BOY
by Vikram Seth
Chapter 38
ALEISHA
‘ALEISHA, YOU LOOK SHATTERED.’
‘I guess I am.’
‘Look, why don’t you go and have a nap before you go to work?’ Rachel said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Aleisha wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and never get up. But her mind flew to her mum, who’d been doing exactly that for the last day or so. No, for years. ‘Let me just see how she is …
‘Mum,’ Aleisha whispered, poking her head through the door. ‘Uncle Jeremy and Rachel are here, I’m going to sleep for a bit, okay? They’re going to have some lunch in the garden. It’s a really lovely day, would you like to join them?’ She kept her voice as soft as possible.
Leilah was sitting up, staring at the wall ahead of her. ‘I’m fine,’ Leilah said. ‘Have a good sleep.’
‘She all right?’ Uncle Jeremy was standing just outside the door.
‘She doesn’t want to come out. Honestly, there’s no point in trying.’
‘No, my girl, there’s every point.’ Uncle Jeremy stepped in. ‘Leilah, how are you? It’s a lovely day outside.’
Tomorrow was the open morning for Aidan at the library, and she didn’t feel prepared at all. She was exhausted. Aleisha let her mind switch off and allowed her legs to lead her along the corridor, and into Aidan’s bedroom. It was still, silent in here. Untouched. They hadn’t gone through his things, Aleisha couldn’t bear to touch anything. She wandered over to his bed, pristinely made. Despite the mess in the rest of the room, which wasn’t very Aidan anyway, her brother could never leave his bed undone. She lay on top of the covers, barely wanting to leave a mark. Her head hit the pillow and her eyes were drawn to a stack of books beside his bed, now with a thin layer of dust on the top, on each groove of the spines.
She turned over and stared straight up at the ceiling, willing sleep to overcome her. Suddenly her phone on Aidan’s bedside table started to buzz: Kyle. Of course. She’d see him later for her shift at the library, anyway, so she turned it face down. But her eye was drawn to Aidan’s stack of books again.
There it was. How had she missed it? Nestled between the crime books, the Martina Coles, there it was.
The Time Traveler’s Wife.
She thought of her copy, Mr P’s copy, resting beside her bed – forgotten and ignored.
Her heart caught in her throat. She pictured Mr P, telling her about this book, about how it had helped him. ‘The books show us the world; they don’t hide it.’ She imagined Aidan, sitting in his same spot, reading it. Had she even seen him read it? How recently had he read it?
She took a deep breath, and unearthed the paperback, holding it so delicately between her hands. She’d been so sure she’d been hiding away from life. But maybe Mr P was right – she’d learnt from the books too. She’d seen what people had been through – couldn’t she use that to cope too? And here it was in Aidan’s room, on Aidan’s bedside table. If he had ever read it, she wanted to read it too.
She turned to the first page of The Time Traveler’s Wife, she forced her mind to go quiet, and she read the first line. One word at a time.
Later that day, in the deserted library, Aleisha sat alone at her desk – The Time Traveler’s Wife by her side. She’d only read a few pages, but it had been like stepping into someone else’s world, letting their emotions merge with her own, letting someone else guide her for a moment, so she could work out how best to guide herself. She’d been searching within the pages for clues of Aidan too – what had Aidan thought of Henry, and his ability to travel through his own life? What did he make of the love story too, and of Clare? Her particularly wealthy and snobbish parents. Aidan had always hated people like that.