‘What the … that’s not likely, is it?’
‘Er, probably not. But I think that’s kind of the whole point of the book – like truth, and what’s true and what’s imagined.’
‘Ah, that’s clever,’ Leilah said. Aleisha smiled, suddenly shy, a tiny bit of pride creeping through her veins. ‘Okay. Who’s the Richard Parker he keeps going on about?’
‘Mum, that’s the tiger.’
‘Called Richard Parker?’ Leilah’s eyes were wide, disbelieving.
‘Yeah! A clerical error that stuck – it was actually the name of the person who captured the tiger, but the paperwork swapped their names round.’
‘Okay, I’m caught up – go on.’
Aleisha continued, picking up with Pi leaning over the boat trying to catch some food, in a desperate attempt to feed Richard and keep himself alive. Pi was almost entirely alone in the middle of the ocean, with nothing but animals, a volatile tiger, for company. Aleisha tried to squash down the rise of a familiar feeling – the survival mode that kicked in every time she heard Leilah shout out at night. It was with a stab of guilt that she realized, yes, she knew a thing or two about volatility. Like Pi, Aleisha was constantly watching for a shift, a change, that could come at any moment. But on the other hand, the tiger, despite everything, was the one thing saving Pi from his own loneliness. When she looked up from the page, she saw that Leilah was in Pi’s world too, her eyes were focused on the ceiling, painting the images before her eyes. Aleisha wondered how Leilah’s artistic eye was visualizing this story. She pictured some of Leilah’s recent designs, the ones she did for herself, rather than for ad agencies, printed as postcards and stuck to the wall in her bedroom. Were the colours vibrant? The sea, a deep blue, the orange of the tiger bold, burning. And, Aleisha allowed herself to wonder, to Leilah, was she Pi, or the Tiger? Or no one at all?
She put the book down for a moment, ‘Do you want a drink?’
Leilah nodded. ‘Water, please. Cold as you can.’
The water from the tap streamed into the glass; Aleisha stared straight ahead. She could see an outline of herself reflected in the tiles: her hair, pulled back into a bun on the top of her head. She looked like her mother, in the pictures from back when Leilah had still been married to Dean. Her smile then was ever-present, it seemed. But people always smiled for photos. From those pictures, she couldn’t ever really tell what was going on in her mum’s mind. She wondered if Dean ever knew either.
She smacked some ice cubes out of the tray onto the countertop, before plonking, plinking them into each glass. ‘So loud, Aleisha!’ Leilah called from the other room.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ Aleisha called back, wincing. The spell cast from the book was starting to wear away.
Condensation was already forming on the outside of the glasses when she handed one to her mum. ‘Okay, Mum,’ Aleisha said softly, ‘I’m going to finish reading in my room. Will you be okay?’
‘No,’ Leilah said. ‘Sit next to me and read again.’ Her voice was hopeful, like a plea.
‘Okay,’ Aleisha collected her book, trying to keep the surprise from her face.
They sat close to one another, but not too close. Her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as she started to turn the pages once more.
For a moment, Aleisha was a child again, curled up under the covers, resting against her mother who was holding a huge schoolbook open in front of them. The letters were large, and Aleisha formed the words timidly – one by one. Leilah would stroke her hair, kiss her forehead, every time she said something right, and if she got it wrong, she’d just whisper gently, ‘Do you want to try that again?’ Aidan would poke his head around the door and beam at his sister, a goofy gap between his front teeth. He stuck his thumb up and mouthed, exaggeratedly, ‘Good girl!’
She remembered snuggling up with Leilah, the two of them falling asleep, and then young Aidan’s whispers rousing her: ‘Aleisha did loads of good reading,’ he’d say to Dean, a lisp muffling his words. ‘My little sister is so clever.’ Dean mumbled something and Aidan replied, ‘I love her millions.’ Aleisha had felt proud of herself then. She wished Aidan could see her now; she wanted to share this moment with him, to show him that she was finally getting through to Leilah. She knew Aidan had always been able to do that, but it was her chance to say to him, ‘I can help you out more, now, because I know what to do. I know how I can help.’