‘Ha,’ he said. ‘But tell me what you are doing step by step or I will never keep up!’
‘Of course!’ She pulled out the aubergine, and began cubing it, as Mukesh added Canderel to the tea. They skipped around each other, searching for utensils, and awkwardly knocking into each other at annoying moments. ‘I am so sorry,’ was always followed by ‘No, no, I am so sorry, bhai! Clumsy clumsy me!’
‘Look at us,’ Mukesh said. ‘We are being very silly. I shall just stay over that side and you let me know if you need to get anything.’
‘Ha. Thank you. Oil please?’
Mukesh passed the oil, and Nilakshi made sure to take it by the lid, keeping her fingers as far away from Mukesh’s as possible.
He felt he was holding his breath for the whole of the brinjal bhaji tutorial and he hadn’t taken a word in.
‘Please could you maybe write me some notes for this recipe too?’ he asked, as he tried the first fried, spicy piece of aubergine.
‘Of course,’ Nilakshi said, about a foot away from the plate, observing Mukesh tucking in.
‘Do you want some?’
‘No, thank you, bhai. I hate aubergine.’
‘What?’ Mukesh laughed, his eyes creasing. ‘How come you wanted to make this?’
‘Well, Naina always used to tell me it was your favourite, and we are always hearing from Harish how you are never making it; even your daughters tell us at the temple. They say your diet is not great! I thought you might want to learn.’
Mukesh gulped. His cheeks flushed red. Of course his daughters, probably Rohini, had loved to spread the news that Mukesh Patel was stuck in his ways.
Nilakshi’s face blanched slightly, and he could see her mind whirring, looking for something else to say. ‘It is nice, people care about you! How are your grandchildren? And little Priya?’
‘They’re doing okay, having their summer holidays already. Priya and I went to the library the other day.’
‘The library?’ Nilakshi asked. ‘Is it the one Naina went to?’
‘Yes! I’ve been reading – for Priya, and for me. There’s a librarian there. She helps me, picks out books for me.’
‘That’s wonderful, Mukeshbhai! What you are reading? What is it like?’
‘I’m reading a lovely book called The Kite Runner. It’s about Amir and Hassan,’ he began, and told her everything that had happened so far. Amir was now living in America, his best friend all but forgotten – now just a moment of severe guilt and regret in Amir’s mind.
‘That sounds so terribly sad,’ Nilakshi said. They were sitting in the living room now, and he noticed how she was leaning back, her hands by her sides. She was taking up more room. She was settling in.
‘It is. The lady at the library who recommended it for me, I saw she was so sad at the end when she finished it. Hassan, he is such a lovely boy and he is treated so horribly.’
‘Ha,’ Nilakshi nodded, knowingly. ‘It’s so often the way, isn’t it? My son,’ Mukesh saw Nilakshi’s head bow slightly. He hadn’t heard her talk about Aakash. ‘When he was younger, he was so gentle, so calm, always with his head in books, always loyal to his friends, and they would pick on him. Bully him. When he came home to me, I would ask him about his day. I just wanted to make him feel better.’
Mukesh’s brow furrowed. Nilakshi’s eyes glistened. He didn’t know what to say – his mind ran through all the books. Was there anything he could take from them? Any wisdom from Atticus to help in this moment? But then he realized, someone to talk to, to listen to her, was probably all she needed. Mukesh could offer her that.
‘I just wanted to make him happy,’ Nilakshi’s voice caught in her throat. ‘But there’s only so much a mother can do. That’s what I realized.’
‘He had a wonderful family,’ Mukesh said quietly. ‘Children can be so mean sometimes, but your son, he was mature, he was bright – he would have known it was never about him. It wasn’t a reflection on him.’
Nilakshi cleared her throat and dabbed her eye with the back of her hand. She smiled. ‘He loved brinjal bhaji too. He loved Naina’s brinjal bhaji most of all.’
When Mukesh’s house was bathed in silence once again, the smell of brinjal and oil and mustard seeds filling the air, he relaxed into his armchair, his belly full, his mind content. He hadn’t had company, real company, just for him, in months, maybe even years. But as he allowed himself to settle, another niggling part of him forced him to look up at the portrait of Naina, and in a flash, he was in Manderley, with Rebecca following him everywhere he went.