He nodded. He’d never had to do this before – it felt a bit like a test. He remembered Aleisha’s face after she finished The Kite Runner – how her recommendation had been filled with so much emotion and enthusiasm. He tried to channel her energy as he summarized each novel.
‘So, To Kill a Mockingbird,’ Mukesh glanced over to Atticus Finch in the reference section, just about in view from the café. Priya’s eyes were wide, totally engaged, focused on her grandfather’s face. ‘It’s about brother and sister, Jem and Scout, learning some crucial life lessons. Their father, Atticus Finch, is a big, important lawyer – he’s really good, and very wise and fair – he’s defending a man called Tom Robinson, accused of attacking a white woman just because he’s black. It’s her word against his. Now, these are things quite big for young Scout and young Jem to understand – so we see them coming to terms with what’s going on, seeing injustice for themselves in their own childlike ways. So, what happens—’
‘Stop, Dada!’ Priya held up her hands. ‘I’m going to read it for myself. I just want the flavour.’
‘Yes, yes, you are right. Well, then that is a little flavour.’ He moved onto the next one: Rebecca. He began describing the book by going ‘Ooo,’ in what he hoped was an atmospheric, spooky way, but actually he sounded like an old grandfather with some joint pain.
‘Are you okay, Dada? Do you want to sit on this seat, it has more padding?’ Priya stood up and pointed to the cushion underneath her.
‘Na, beta, it’s okay, I am okay, just a little twinge,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘Where was I? … Oh, yes. Do you remember your summer holidays to Cornwall?’
‘Yes, Dada, of course.’
‘Well, you know all those cliffs, the rough waves.’
‘Yes, Dada.’
‘Well, imagine a large house not far from there, and a ghost of a woman walking the halls … that’s how Rebecca really builds the atmosphere, spooky, and eerie, and I think the landscape is a person in itself! I don’t know if it really is Cornwall in the book, but it sounds like it. Did Cornwall ever feel like that to you?’
For a split second, Mukesh was watching himself – and he couldn’t quite believe it. He was discussing books as if he knew what he was talking about. He sounded like an English teacher, maybe even a librarian. He felt himself sit up an inch or so taller, pride sending pinpricks over his skin.
‘Not really, we usually go surfing and it’s very beautiful when it’s sunny. But windy and scary when it’s not.’
‘Exactly! It’s got that beautiful side, and the dark side … like Rebecca.’
Eventually, he moved on to The Kite Runner. He didn’t know how to begin describing it to Priya. ‘This book might be a little sad, and a little grown-up for you.’
Priya shook her head. ‘One of my friends read it at school. She’s a bit older than me, but I’m a better reader than her,’ she said matter-of-factly.
‘All right, well, it’s the story of two friends, they’re like brothers, Amir and Hassan,’ Mukesh pointed to the two little boys on the front cover. ‘Except Amir is from a wealthy family, and Hassan is not. Hassan is the son of Amir’s family’s servant.’
He held The Kite Runner in his hands. While this story was so different to his own, and that of his friends, something about the kinship between Amir and Hassan always reminded him of his good childhood friend in Kenya, Umang. They were so alike in so many ways, but the two boys had different pasts and different futures – Mukesh always knew he’d have opportunities, but Umang … Umang didn’t.
He hoped Umang was well – he was a boy with a big heart, a clever mind, wise beyond his years. Mukesh had loved playing with Umang – he was someone Mukesh could always be himself around. ‘Two peas in a pod,’ his mother always said to them in English.
They’d drifted apart in their teenage years – but still saw each other walking the roads, at the beach – but Mukesh hadn’t thought of Umang for years now. Until The Kite Runner.
‘When I was a boy, I had a best friend,’ Mukesh started, not quite knowing how to phrase it without making himself look like a villain. He noticed Mrs Danvers had stopped eating her cream-cheese bagel to watch him. ‘He always wanted to spend time with me. One day, I shut Umang out of my house because I didn’t want to play, I just wanted to be alone. But my friend, well, he was just there for some company, for some peace and quiet, and probably for some of my mummy’s dosa – everyone in our village loved my mum’s dosa.’