‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve had deep in my life, I think I can do it.’ He smiled broadly. She could tell he was waiting for her to ask a question, so he could impart some Atticus wisdom.
‘Like what, Mr P?’ she indulged him.
‘Well,’ his eyes looked up to the ceiling. ‘I wasn’t born here, you know? I left my home, Kenya, behind to come here, to raise my children, to bring them opportunities. It was hard, settling in, always being different.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘this book’s about moving away from your home. The main character, Amir, he leaves Afghanistan, where he grows up, for America.’
‘Really?’ Mr P brushed his hand over the cover.
‘I know you’ll love it! But trust me, this literally makes Rebecca seem like child’s play. Like that’s an awesome book, really atmospheric, but this is like an emotional roller-coaster that just keeps going and going and going …’
‘Okay, Miss Aleisha,’ he said. ‘I understand you very well. I will read and report back!’
With almost a skip in his step, he headed towards a seat in the library, and just before he sat down she said, ‘Don’t cry, okay?’
‘Yes, boss!’ he called back.
He sat down in his favourite chair next to a little alcove of bookshelves with a tall reading lamp.
‘From here I can see you, Aleisha, or the other librarians, Lucy, Benny and the other young man,’ he’d told her once. ‘Or that student dumping their books in front of them and pulling out a scraggy notebook, or the young mums and dads reading to their children. I like this spot; it is becoming like a new routine when I read here. These strangers, they are my silent companions.’
Aleisha had been pleased that Mr P was opening up, little by little, not just to her, but also to the other people who worked here. A few days ago, Lucy had said, ‘That old man you’re becoming mates with, he’s rather sweet, isn’t he?’
She thought of the first time she was rude to Mr P, and how Aidan, and Kyle had convinced her to right her wrong – just like Amir had done in The Kite Runner. It was true – it wasn’t too late to be a good person. Never. Aleisha now felt a strange sense of pride for the old man – she knew that Mr P was lonely, but he was starting to do things to help himself. He was doing so well.
Chapter 16
MUKESH
MUKESH HADN’T TOLD HIS daughters that he was planning on seeing Nilakshi today. She was Nilakshimasi to them, she was like family, always had been. He suspected – hoped – that Vritti would think it was nice that he’d finally found someone who could be a good friend, a companion. But Rohini and Deepali would get the wrong idea, modern ideas. They would read into it, mutter things like, ‘Papa is getting serious with this woman, why would he do that to Mummy?’ to each other behind his back. He couldn’t face being talked about.
When the doorbell rang, Mukesh’s heart almost leapt out of his chest. He stared up at Naina, hoping for some kind of message. Silence.
‘Nilakshiben!’ Mukesh held his arms open wide in greeting at the door, sounding more confident and comfortable than he felt.
She held up a blue plastic bag of vegetables. ‘Ready to learn how to cook brinjal bhaji?’
Mukesh nodded hurriedly and stepped aside to let her in.
‘Sit down, Nilakshiben,’ he said, politely, nodding his head formally, suddenly realizing he was standing uncomfortably straight. They both stood side by side in his hallway, beside the doorway to the living room. Naina, in her photoframe above the television, was staring down at them.
‘Thank you, bhai,’ Nilakshi said. He noticed she gave Naina’s chair a wide berth, leaving a space for her memory to be. ‘I can sit here?’ She pointed to the sofa, the bag still in her hand.
‘Ha,’ he replied, leaning forward to take the bag from her. ‘Anywhere you like.’ On the sofa, Nilakshi clasped her hands together, shrugging her shoulders as though she wanted to take up as little room as possible.
‘Please,’ he said, ‘make yourself at home.’
Nilakshi didn’t move, she just smiled and nodded.
A few minutes later, Nilakshi joined him in the kitchen as he was straining the chai. He’d made it from scratch this time – he knew that’s what Naina would have wanted for a guest.
‘I thought I better join you,’ Nilakshi said. Her face looked as though she had seen a ghost. ‘Shall I start chopping for the brinjal bhaji?’ He could tell she didn’t know what to do with herself, drifting around her late best friend’s house.