‘He would have been convinced eventually,’ Mum said. ‘He wouldn’t have cut you off forever.’
‘It feels that way,’ Nikki confessed. ‘All the time, it feels like I created this eternal wall of silence between us. He died angry at me.’
‘He didn’t die angry,’ Mum said.
‘You don’t know that,’ Nikki said.
‘He was very happy when he died. I promise.’ At first Nikki mistook the shine in Mum’s eyes for tears but then she noticed the tiniest twitch in Mum’s lips as well.
‘What do you mean?’
Mum’s lips contorted further into a smile. A flush spread across her cheeks. ‘When I told you that your father died in bed, I didn’t mean that he died in his sleep. I let you believe that because …’ She cleared her throat. ‘Because he died from strenuous activity. In bed.’
Nikki suddenly understood. ‘His heart attack was brought on by … by you two?’ Nikki flapped her hands helplessly in a vague pantomime of her parents having sex.
‘Strenuous activity,’ Mum said.
‘I didn’t have to know that.’
‘Beti, I can’t let you keep blaming yourself. Dad was having heart problems before you dropped out of university. He didn’t die from misery or disappointment. It appeared that way because he was so sullen when you last saw him, but in India he started to put things in perspective. We went to visit relatives one afternoon and your uncle was going on about how advanced the Indian education system was compared to ours. You know what they’re like – any chance they get they turn a family reunion into a competition. Your uncle was talking about all of the complex school projects his daughter Raveen was expected to complete and she was only in primary school. He said, “Raveen’s school is ensuring that all of its students are successful. What more can I want?” Dad replied, “My daughters were taught to make their own choices about success.”’
‘Dad said that?’ Nikki asked.
Mum nodded. ‘I think he surprised himself. Your dad had never been the type to return to the motherland to brag about his successes abroad. But something changed that day. Out of all the opportunities Britain offered us, choice was the most important thing. He just didn’t fully realize it until he had to say it aloud to your uncle.’
Nikki blinked back tears as her mum reached for her. The touch of her hand on Nikki’s face released the sort of giant hiccupping sob she had not experienced since she was a little girl. She pressed her cheek to Mum’s palm, which caught her warm tears.
In the evening, Olive came around. Slung across her shoulder, a large canvas bag overflowed with essays to mark and she carried a box of Nikki’s possessions. Nikki’s face was still puffy from crying. ‘It’s been an emotional day,’ she explained.
‘I’d say it’s been a hell of a week,’ Olive said. ‘How are you coping?’
‘I’ve still got headaches but other than that, I try to avoid being reminded of it all.’ But she could not escape the vivid dreams that descended on her every night. The inescapable grip on her throat, flames licking her feet. She shuddered. In the dreams, she was not always rescued. In one version, desperate to escape the heat, she resorted to jumping from the flat’s open window. She plunged to her death and jolted awake, shaking with fear and fury.
‘I dropped by the pub last night to see if Sam needed anything. There wasn’t much damage to the pub itself, just the ceiling, but for health and safety reasons, he had to shut down for a while.’
‘Is Sam all right?’
‘Yeah, he’s managing. The insurance will cover the damages, and his profit losses.’
‘It looked like the only way he was going to fix all of the pub’s problems was by burning it to the ground and starting over. Or just cutting his losses and leaving.’
‘Well, there you go. It’s not exactly burnt to the ground but the pub is the last thing on anyone’s mind. He’s most concerned about you. Keeps asking. I told him I was dropping in to see you today. He sends his love.’ Olive surveyed the house. ‘This place brings back memories.’
‘Yeah,’ Nikki said with a sigh.
‘Growing up here can’t have been that bad.’
From where they stood, Nikki could see Dad’s old armchair. ‘Nah, it wasn’t,’ she said.
Olive reached into her bag and drew an envelope. ‘Now, I’ve got something for you, and I’m under strict instructions to make sure you receive it.’ She handed Nikki the envelope.
Nikki thought it was a final paycheque from Sam but when she opened it, she found a letter instead. Dear Nikki, it started and it was signed, Love, Jason.
‘I can’t,’ she said, thrusting the letter back to Olive.
‘Nikki, just read it.’
‘Do you even know what happened?’
‘I do. He’s been coming round to the pub every day like a lost puppy, hoping to see you. Both Sam and I refused to give him your home address but I said I’d deliver the letter.’
‘He’s married.’
‘He’s divorced,’ Olive said. ‘He filed for divorce before he met you. The poor bugger was so desperate to prove himself that he brought the paperwork to the pub to show us. I can vouch for the fact that it’s genuine.’
‘Why did he hide it then?’
Olive shrugged.
‘It still doesn’t make sense. If he wasn’t involved in his other relationship, who was calling him all the time? Why did he disappear all of a sudden?’
‘I’m sure he explains it all there,’ Olive said, pointing to the letter. ‘At least read it.’
‘Whose side are you on, anyway?’
‘I’m always on the side of truth,’ Olive said. ‘Just like you. And the truth is he was scared and he acted like a fool. He’s definitely got some explaining to do but you should give him a chance, Nik. The two of you looked genuinely happy together. He seems like a decent guy who did a really stupid thing.’
Nikki held the letter. ‘I might need to read this on my own,’ she said.
‘No problem. I have these horrid essays to mark.’ Olive picked up her bag then leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on Nikki’s forehead. ‘You’re the bravest person I know,’ she said.
Nikki returned to bed right after dinner. In the box that Olive had brought over, she found her Beatrix Potter biography. She opened it and began reading, wishing again that she could locate that tea-stained copy of The Journal and Sketches of Beatrix Potter. Outside, the skies had darkened and streetlights glowed dully like embers. Nikki’s satchel was packed flat at the bottom of the box beneath her worn-out trainers and a few more books. Nikki put the box aside and pulled the blanket up to her chin. She didn’t have the emotional strength to unpack the rest of the box just yet. It was depressing thinking that one box contained everything she owned.
Then there was Jason’s letter, which remained on her dresser. She could see the corner of the envelope but each time she thought of opening it, she felt a churning in her gut and sank further into bed. The letter could contain all the apologies in the world but she wasn’t ready to hear them.
Chapter Nineteen