Mira in the Present Tense (27 page)

“Having fun?” says Jidé's mum, peering round the door. “Tea's ready in five minutes.”

On the wall, opposite Jidé's bed, is an enormous map of the world crisscrossed with green and red silk thread, leading to drawing pins stuck into different countries.

“What are those for?” I ask.

“The red ones are the countries I've been to and the green ones are the ones I want to go to the most.”

I follow the string tracks across the world.

“You've been to…Wales, Scotland, Ireland, France, Brazil, and India…you've been to
India
?”

He nods. “Haven't you?”

I shake my head. “My Granddad Bimal's from India, but I've never been. I really want to go though.”

“You should.”

“What about Africa? You were born there, weren't you?” I follow a red string to a place in Africa. “Is that Rwanda?”

Jidé nods.

“I don't remember anything about it, but one day I'll go back.”

“I thought you said there was no point…going back.”

“I'm frightened to go back, but a bit of me thinks I should…” smiles Jidé sadly.

I think of Nana's tiny artichoke charm and the layers and layers of protection that Jidé has already had to grow around his heart, and I lean toward him and
I
kiss
him
, and this time I don't feel like laughing, not one bit…It doesn't feel like any other place I've been to. This kiss with Jidé Jackson is like traveling to another world.

“Pizza,” calls Jidé's mum from the kitchen.

“How was school, Jidé?”

It's amazing that all parents, even teachers, can't think of a better question to ask.

“Boring, we had history.”

“Ha! Ha! Wait till you get
me
next year,” laughs Jidé's mum. “What's your favorite thing at school, Mira?”

Jidé does an enormous yawn, as if to say, “Could you be more boring?”

And to make it even more uncomfortable for me he keeps nudging my foot under the table in an attempt to make me laugh.

“Art. I like Art,” I giggle.

Then the phone rings.

“Sorry, Mira,” she sighs, striding off.

“Typical!” Jidé raises his eyes to the ceiling. “Grace and Jai have always got some massive project on, to save the world.”

I listen in to her conversation for a few minutes. The way she talks, you can tell she's the sort of person who gets things done.

“It's the meeting I told you about transforming the Rec into a community park,” explains Jidé.

“I'm hoping that you and some of your friends will join the youth committee,” Jidé's mum calls over to me as she slings on her jacket and grabs her bag. “We could do with some girl power!”

I smile politely and Jidé groans. I suppose everyone's parents are just as embarrassing.

“Don't be too late walking Mira home, Jidé. I'm so sorry, Mira. I can't get out of this meeting today. Hope we can chat more next time.” She kisses Jidé on the forehead, tousles his hair, and is gone.

“She'll probably bring the whole meeting back here later.”

“Your mum's on a mission,” I say.

“You make her sound like Superwoman.”

“That's what she looks like to me.”

When she's gone, the flat is quiet again. Our house is never quiet.

“Leave me at the corner,” I tell Jidé. “Mum thinks I'm at Millie's.”

Jidé laughs. “It can get you into trouble, lying,” he grins, his face moving closer and closer toward mine until we are lost in another kiss. My first thought is to ask Notsurewho Notsurewhat to please not let anyone I know see me kissing Jidé Jackson, but then my mind empties and I am starting to understand why kissing isn't such a weird thing to do after all, because I forget everything in this kiss and everyone except for Jidé Jackson…And it feels, well, it feels…like flying. When it's over, I rummage around in my pocket for the keys and with them I pull out the note I had folded away in my pocket. The note that I never thought I would show anyone, especially not Jidé Jackson…the note that says:

Horse, Artichoke, Green, Rwanda.

I hand it to him without saying a word. He unwraps it carefully and reads.

“We're both green then,” he grins and plants another playful kiss on my lips and another and another! It's as if he never wants to leave me.

It's probably my too-strong imagination but I feel as if Jidé's eyes are burning into my back. I stop myself turning round to see if he's still watching me cross the road. As I climb the steps to my front door, I glance sideways and out of the corner of my eye catch him waving to me. I pretend I haven't seen him, but he carries on waving anyway, as if to say, “I know you know I'm still here!”

I fit my keys in the lock and let myself into our quiet house. I lean against the back of the door until my heart finally stops racing, and I breathe it in, for the first time ever, this sweet silence, because I know it won't last for long.

Krish, Dad, and me are in Nana's flat. We're here for Krish to choose something of Nana's. Krish didn't even want to come…He only wants to be with Laila since she's come out of hospital. Today, Krish looks more miserable than I have ever seen him. He goes around the flat peering into boxes and eventually finds a silver baby rattle on a blue ribbon for Laila. After that, he seems to lose interest. Dad's busy looking through stacked-up papers and boxes in the cupboard. I can't believe how organized Nana is. He finds some documents in one of the boxes to take back to Nana Josie. I roam around the flat showing Krish things I think he might like, but he just shrugs or shakes his head. I know what he means. It's miserable being in Nana's flat when she's not here. It makes you remember all the fun we had here in the past.

“Remember that burping competition you had with Nana when we came to tea once?” I ask Krish.

His face starts to brighten up a bit.

“Or the time when you fell into the gloop by the pond, and me and Nana had to hose you down?”

He's warming up a bit now.

“And when we were little, how we used to climb over the wall, and Mum and Sheena from opposite broke down a bit of the fence so that me, you, and her three boys could have a double-sized garden.”

“Yeah! But then they moved out and the new family boarded up the fence.”

Cheering Krish up is going to be hard work today.

“Remember May who lived in the flat upstairs? She used to wave to us from her window and throw us sweets in shiny wrappers. You thought it was raining sweets the first time she did it.”

As soon as I say this, I know it's a mistake.

“Then she died,” Krish sighs.

I have days like this too, since Nana was ill. Dad puts his arm round Krish's shoulders, hugging him close, and, for a change, he doesn't pull away.

“You don't have to take anything if you don't want to,” Dad tells Krish, but Krish thinks Nana will be upset if he doesn't choose something. Then Dad has an idea. He walks over to the cupboard he's been looking in and takes out a blue cardboard box, covered in fine dust like brown flour, which Dad gently blows off its surface, making us all sneeze. In it, there are all Granddad Kit's letters and photographs.

Granddad Kit died just before Krish was born. Krish often says things like, “At least
you
met Granddad Kit,” and he seems quite jealous of that, although the fact is I only know things about Granddad Kit that other people have told me…it's not the sort of knowing I have with Nana Josie. But I do sort of remember sitting on his knee. Once Mum told me the story of the day Granddad Kit died. She went to the hospital with Dad, saw Granddad's body and held his hand. When my mum told Granddad Bimal that Granddad Kit had died, he asked my mum if she had touched his body.

“Then the spirit of Kit will go into the new baby,” Granddad Bimal told Mum. That baby turned out to be Krish.