‘I just wanted to make sure that I didn’t lose you,’ the woman explained. ‘You’re Nikki, aren’t you? I’m Hannah.’ She disappeared suddenly behind the counter and popped up again, placing a book in front of Nikki. The Journals and Sketches of Beatrix Potter.
‘Oh my goodness,’ Nikki gasped. She reached for the book and hesitated, almost afraid to pick it up. Her fingers gingerly turned the cover. The first image was a portrait of Beatrix Potter. Her plump face was slightly angled and there was a tinge of mischief in her small, pursed lips. ‘Where did you end up finding this?’ she asked.
‘Special order. It came all the way from India.’
There it was, a tea stain the size of a small leaf on the top corner of the cover. It was the very same copy that she had longed for in Delhi all those years ago. ‘That’s incredible,’ she said. She plucked her debit card from her wallet and gave it to Hannah, who waved it away.
‘The gentleman already paid for it,’ she explained.
‘Which gentleman?’
‘The one who ordered this book. I asked him if he’d rather have it sent to his home or yours – do away with the middle man – but he insisted that we keep it in the shop window in case you walked past. I supposed he wanted to surprise you. I couldn’t keep it in the window though because that meant it would be available for other customers to purchase, so I had it under the counter but I looked out for you and told the guys on the late afternoon shift to do the same but I think they used it as an excuse to lure every girl they fancied into the shop …’
Hannah’s explanation faded into the distance. All Nikki could think of was the word “gentleman.” It brought to mind a faceless benefactor in a top hat for some reason even though she was certain that it was Jason who had placed the order. He would have had to call every bookshop in Connaught Place in Delhi and she felt a little breathless at the thought.
‘Thank you so much,’ Nikki said. She clutched the book to her chest and walked outside in a bit of a daze. She passed the cinema, deciding to forgo the French film. Trees formed a cosy canopy on the street leading to the gardens. Nikki stepped between the shadows, finding patches of early morning light for momentary warmth. The din of traffic faded once she entered the gates of Hyde Park. Here, she walked for a while and found a bench opposite Kensington Palace. The book felt solid in her hands. Nikki ran her hand over the cover and brought the book to her nose to inhale its smell. She always had a small fear that if she ever found this book, it would bring some regret at how she had argued with Dad over it. But with her eyes shut, all she thought of was Jason – the navy jumper he had worn to their first date, the way her stomach flipped when she saw him walk into O’Reilly’s. Nikki took time to examine each page – the letters, the sketchy doodles. Although the pages were smooth, these pieces felt textured and real, as if she were inside Beatrix Potter’s mind. Jason had known just how much it meant to hold this very book in her hands.
In the park, tourists weaved purposefully between the more evenly paced joggers and dog walkers. What people wanted from London was all here – the lush green gardens, the majestic domes and church spires, the black cabs busily circling. It was regal and mysterious; she could understand anybody’s impatience to be part of it. She was reminded of the widows. They would have known little of this London before their journey to this country, and upon their arrival, they would have known even less. Britain equalled a better life and they would have clung to this knowledge even as this life confounded and remained foreign. Every day in this new country would have been an exercise in forgiveness.
Nikki picked up her phone and searched for Jason’s number.
‘I’ve got two cigarettes left and then I’m quitting for good,’ she said. ‘You’re doing this with me, all right?’
She heard a prolonged sigh as if Jason had been holding his breath waiting for her to call. ‘Save me one,’ he said. Nikki told him where she was and she waited, watching a group of elderly cyclists rolling past slowly as they breathed in the crisp spring air. She couldn’t wait to see him. She couldn’t wait for them to begin again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kulwinder’s new office gleamed. She sat in a chair with a headrest and wheels on its feet. A large window framed the summer sky in a perfect blue square. Kulwinder could not see the old building from here and she was surprised that she missed it. True, it had been cramped and mouldy and the building itself could use a few renovations, but at least she did not have to be next door to the men of the Association. They lingered as if her open door was an invitation to stare like she was a curious display – the woman who had rounded up all those old bibis to make demands at the Sikh Community Association meeting.
Not demands, Kulwinder reminded herself. Reasonable requests. Funding for a proper women’s centre, one that would provide free services like legal advisers for victims of domestic violence and a dedicated fitness centre where women could exercise without being harassed. Still, Kulwinder chuckled at the memory of the men’s appalled expressions when she said, ‘Take the time you need to need to consider our proposal, but I want to be present at every discussion from now on. No more impromptu decisions made in the men’s cliques in the langar hall. Is that clear?’ When nobody protested, she nodded and said, ‘Good. We all agree, then.’
There was a light knocking sound. ‘Come in,’ Kulwinder said. The door remained shut. There was another louder knock. This was another thing to get used to in the new office – a more solid door blocked out the outside sounds but muffled her responses. ‘Come in,’ she shouted. The door opened.
‘Nikki!’ Kulwinder hurriedly closed the newspaper as the girl approached her desk. Kulwinder stood to hug her and noticed that her postman bag was missing. In its place was a backpack that bulged with books. ‘You’ve been studying hard,’ she commented.
‘I have some catching up to do. University starts up in a few weeks and I had such a long time away.’
‘I’m sure it will all come back to you.’
‘I’ve got a few new things to learn. The course is slightly different.’
Nikki was so excited when she was offered one of the remaining spots in this programme, a law degree with an emphasis on social justice. ‘I want to help prevent what happened to girls like Maya,’ she had said when she rang Kulwinder to tell her the news, which made Kulwinder’s heart swell with pride. And then, in Nikki fashion, she had rattled on about women’s rights, except this time Kulwinder paid attention. ‘And there might be more unsolved cases like Gulshan’s and Karina’s killings. So few people questioned those girls’ deaths that it made it okay to continue the violence. Who knows – we might have grounds to open investigations for Gulshan and to open up Karina’s case again. I’m looking into ways to encourage conversations about honour crimes in communities like ours.’ Ours. Kulwinder’s throat tightened with emotion.
Nikki nodded at the newspaper. ‘Anything new?’ she asked.