‘No, no, just for myself.’
‘Really?’ She looked at him properly for the first time. ‘Well, that’s great, Papa. Mummy would be proud.’
He couldn’t help it, but his chest puffed up with pride. Rohini hopped in her car and waved him goodbye, and as her car disappeared out of view, he heard Naina whisper in his ear: Thank you, Mukesh. Thank you for trying again.
Chapter 8
ALEISHA
‘ALEISHA?’ KYLE WAS USING his ‘professional’ phone voice this morning, which told her that he was already in the library.
‘Yeah?’ Aleisha replied.
‘That old man, the one you upset …’ （Kyle loved a guilt trip.） ‘Well, he’s coming in today sometime to pick up the book you’ve reserved for him. Your “trick” seems to have worked … Did you want to be here to recommend it to him? I’m happy to do it, I know the book really well.’
Aleisha rolled her eyes. Of course he did. Kyle knew everything. She wasn’t quite sure what made her put the reservation in, but as soon as she’d turned the final page of To Kill a Mockingbird, she had wanted to talk to someone about it, and the man had wanted a book. And, she wondered now, perhaps he’d come to the library in search of more than just a story. What if he had wanted a friend, someone to talk to too? For a little while, Scout and her brother Jem … they had felt like friends to Aleisha. She wondered if this man, if he read it, might discover that too.
‘Actually, yeah, I want to be there. I’ll be there in like an hour. I’m just waiting for my brother to get home.’
‘All right, well, make sure you have some interesting things to say to him about it, really sell it to him. Every customer counts, remember?’
She hung up and groaned inwardly. What had Crime Thriller guy said to her about the book? Had he mentioned anything interesting she could say to the old man in turn? The only thing that had stayed with her was that it wasn’t his usual read but had got him out of his weird, creepy, crime-filled head.
She pulled her phone out and googled, ‘Themes in To Kill a Mockingbird’， followed by, ‘Discussion points in To Kill a Mockingbird’， bringing up a list of questions her English teacher could probably have written. She flicked through the book, and her fingers rushed over pages and pages she’d already enjoyed, when she’d watched Jem and Scout and their friend Dill mess with the old man who lived in the spooky house down the road. She landed on a page with Atticus, preparing for a court case, and his defence of innocent Tom Robinson. She’d subconsciously been taking notes, wondering if this was what law was really like. She’d ripped through the pages, enraged at the townspeople’s treatment of Tom, and Atticus too.
‘Aidan,’ she’d shouted a couple of nights ago, storming into his room. He’d been sitting on his bed absent-mindedly scrolling on his laptop.
‘Leish, what’s up?’
She’d waved the book at him. ‘This! The people of Maycomb – this little fictional town. They’re so awful – there’s this man, he’s been accused of attacking this white woman, and just because she’s white everyone believes her. Atticus – he’s like a lawyer, a really good lawyer, he’s defending Tom. But everyone … everyone else. They’re so awful.’
‘To Kill a Mockingbird?’ Aidan eyed the cover, appraisingly. ‘It’s a good one,’ he winked. ‘I know, it gets deep – but when it stresses you out, you’ve just got to remember, it’s only a book, you know?’
‘That’s rich, coming from you – you’re the one who dressed up as book characters at Halloween. But you know what I mean … it feels real. I’m sure it has been real. It’s a proper fight for justice.’
‘It’s really got to you, this book, hasn’t it?’ he teased, kindly.
It had really got to her. But now, now she needed to say something interesting about it, she literally had no clue if her thoughts were valid. The book had made her feel things, but was any of it worth sharing?
She leaned against the worktop in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. The edge dug into the small of her back, reminding her of the time when she was little and Aidan had been chasing her through the house, when she’d tumbled. It had felt like flying for a moment. Until she’d hit her head, just above her left eye, and caught her skin on the sharp worktop.
Aidan had come to her rescue, as always. Dean had told him off, for running in the house, but he hadn’t had to ask Aidan to collect a bandage, a cold damp cloth, to help stem her bleeding forehead as well as he could. Aidan had taken it upon himself to look after her. Leilah had called him ‘our little doctor’ for a long time after that – Aidan was perfect, as always.