Aleisha was pissed off, but tried hard to conceal it. Aidan always said he could read her like a book – she hoped no one else could. She didn’t want the night to end this way. She wished her friend wasn’t so pissed. She wished Rahul wasn’t there.
Mia still lived in the house she’d grown up in, on the other side of Wembley to Aleisha. She hoped she’d be able to get a bus back. It was still early, so she knew Aidan would be up. He’d probably be watching something on YouTube, which was how she usually found him at this time in the evening, in the dark living room, the computer screen illuminating his face, giving him a deathly green glow. She should text him. But she knew it would be like admitting defeat – that she couldn’t have fun, no matter how much she forced it. It would prove to him that she wasn’t as good as her big brother. She kept her phone firmly in her pocket.
On Mia’s road, Aleisha recognized the houses and muscle memory took her the rest of the way.
When they got to the door, all the curtains were closed, the windows black. It was midnight, the street was quiet, Aleisha didn’t dare ring the doorbell. Rahul shrugged. Mia wasn’t sober enough to find her keys in her bag, so Aleisha went to help, following the sound of the jangling. Finally, she opened the door for her friend, who waltzed over the step, and shut the door on Aleisha and Rahul without a word. They heard a few more clatters, crashes and bangs. They shouldn’t have worried about waking up the house – Mia was doing the job anyway.
‘So,’ Rahul whispered. ‘I’ll walk you to yours, yeah?’
Aleisha shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine.’
Rahul insisted, but Aleisha got her phone out. It was time to put up that white flag. She called Aidan.
They waited outside Mia’s house, Aleisha was freezing cold, suddenly aware she was wearing shorts and a stupid strappy top. She hugged herself, avoiding Rahul’s eye in case he offered her something to keep her warm. The wait felt like for ever. She wanted to talk to Rahul, tell him what had been going on at home, about the old man she’d made friends with at the library. Would he laugh, or think it was stupid, or maybe tell her it was a nice thing to do, to keep a lonely old man company? She wanted someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t Aidan, who didn’t know what it was like to look after your mum when she couldn’t look after herself, but who might try to understand.
At one point, she opened her mouth to start talking. But she stopped herself. There was no point. It was probably the little bit she told Rahul about her mum that ended up scaring him away in the first place. It wasn’t something teenagers were used to talking about. She’d told Mr P some stuff, that was enough. She had Aidan, they were in this together.
Then, through the silence, Aidan’s car pulled up, music playing more softly than usual through his stereo, and he called out through the window: ‘Get in, you two.’
No matter how much she’d been dreading this evening, her heart was a hollow pit. She’d wanted to be the carefree teenager who was a binge-drinking liability for once. Instead, she’d been the sensible one, doing the right thing, looking after others. Nothing had changed.
Chapter 20
MUKESH
BEEP. ‘HI PAPA, IT’S Rohini, thank you so much for looking after Priya.’ ‘Yes, thank you, Dada!’ ‘She said she had a really great time in London with you. I hope you were careful. For your sake, more than anything.’
BEEP. ‘Hi Dad, it’s Vritti. Sorry for ringing earlier than usual – I’ve just got off the phone to Rohini. Would you like to come round next week for lunch or something? I can pick you up so you don’t need to get the train. Would really love to see you!’
BEEP. ‘Hi Mr P, it’s Aleisha. Sorry for calling, it’s so quiet at the library here today, so I thought I’d check in on how you were getting on with Life of Pi. I’ve got another book for you when you’re ready. Anyway, I’ll maybe call again later.’
Call again later? Mukesh felt an unexpected panic rise to his throat. He hadn’t spoken to Aleisha on the phone before. What would they talk about? He hadn’t checked his messages this morning because Nilakshi had popped round early to spend the day with him, so Aleisha was bound to call any moment now and he’d barely prepared!
‘Who was that on the answer machine?’ Nilakshi asked from the living room, sitting in her usual spot. （Yes, she had a usual spot now …） Her eyes were trained on a Hindi soap opera on Zee TV.
‘Oh,’ Mukesh said. ‘Just – erm – my librarian.’ He wondered if that was the right way to describe her.