‘Papa, it’s nice really. They want to get you involved.’
‘Why would they want me involved in anything? In ten kilometres? Why not wait for the five one?’
‘Maybe because they think you need cheering up.’
‘Very funny!’
‘Do you?’
‘No. I’m a widower. Lots of widowers are lonely, bored, boring. I’ve got you and Priya, the girls, and the twins. I have my routines. I’m fine.’
‘Papa, just go. Don’t go too far if you can’t handle it. You’re not too old, are you?’
Mukesh straightened himself up, pulled back his shoulders, puffed up his chest. He’d once seen his son-in-law do this before a jog. ‘I can do the walk. I just don’t want to – I don’t have time!’
Rohini tried to hide a smile.
‘I can!’ Mukesh tried not to look offended.
‘Right …’ Rohini said, giving her daughter, now snoring gently in the armchair, the once-over. ‘I think it’s best we head back. It will take us a couple of hours. And Priya has some studying to do.’ She gently shook Priya awake – she rubbed her sleepy eyes, and for a moment, she was the little girl Mukesh had taken to the park on Fridays after nursery, the little girl who had sat on his lap and watched Christmas films, the little girl who had fallen asleep reading a picture book in her ba’s arms. He knew, as she grew up, she wouldn’t want to spend any time with her old dada. Especially if they had nothing in common. Time was running out, wasn’t it?
‘You can both stay here if you want,’ Mukesh said. ‘I don’t want you driving back too late, not if you are sleepy.’
‘No, Papa, it’s nicer to be home.’
Her words stung – he hadn’t expected it. It had been years since Rohini moved out, but he still thought of this house as her home.
‘Good luck for your walk next Saturday – have fun,’ Rohini continued, as she flung her bag over her shoulder. ‘Do you have everything?’ she asked Priya, sweeping her palm over the girl’s forehead, removing some straggly hair from her eyes. Priya nodded. As they wandered out the door, Mukesh knelt down with difficulty to say goodbye to Priya, his little girl who was not so little after all, but she wandered straight past him and jumped into the car, ready to go home. He held a smile that he didn’t feel as he waved them off, and as he closed the door, he felt more alone than ever.
Mukesh shuffled into bed that evening, in the bedroom he had once shared with Naina, mattress and bones creaking. He whispered, ‘Jai Swaminarayan’ and rested his head in the very centre of his pillow, looking up at the ceiling, the dying sunlight creeping in through the cracks in the curtains, casting an orange glow on the paintwork. He closed his eyes for the night, praying and hoping he would wake up with Naina next to him. He knew, if he was going to finally get to know his granddaughter, to earn her trust and her respect, he might have to start making some changes. The library was the key, he just knew it … but the sponsored walk, it couldn’t hurt to have a go, could it?
Chapter 6
ALEISHA
IT WAS A RELIEF to be out of the house today, even if Leilah was acting as if she was totally okay – scrubbing the already spotless kitchen from top to bottom. Aleisha walked along the high road, weaving in and out of people wandering every which way, ignoring men selling knock-off phones, past the stadium, almost empty at this time of day with no match, concert or anything going on. The traffic, like always, was heavy here. Cars tooted. She could smell the fumes; the taste made bile rise to her throat.
She wandered past the terraced houses, once white but now grey with pollution, and the Hindu temple, in all its marble grandeur – a huddle of people, young and old, congregated in the forecourt, speaking passionately, joy and sincerity combined. She sat on a wall opposite and watched for a while, picking her nails. A few of the men here, chatting away, were wearing a red and yellow string around their wrists. She thought of the old man from the library. He had been wearing a bracelet just like that, she remembered. The huddle dispersed and she trudged to Stonebridge Park station, the heat sending prickles over her skin.
It was the middle of the day. Everyone on the platform seemed aimless. Some would be going to their jobs, shift-workers, something she could sympathize with. Others would be doing what she was doing – wandering with no agenda, no destination, because there was nothing else to do on this too-hot, sticky day.
Then someone caught her eye – a guy. He had a beanie on his head … in this heat? He must be sweltering. He had a wash of carefully curated stubble on his face. His eyes were a sharp, vibrant green. She watched him for a while. His bright coloured T-shirt was too big, hanging over his jeans. He stepped onto the train coolly, like he had nothing to prove and no one to prove anything to. Aleisha couldn’t say why, but she was interested in him, intrigued. She stepped onto the train too, without registering where it was going until the Tannoy announced the final destination: Elephant and Castle. The guy was sitting, his knees far apart, in the middle of two seats, just because he could.