Top of the class

The box bedroom at the back of the house was a hallowed place. Heavy curtains and shaded lightbulbs gave the impression that it was trapped in time. Leila bent to remove her shoes then decided against it, and placed one trainer over the threshold, then the other.

The wall ahead was loaded with cups, ribbons, and medals. Her mother always left a candle burning; the scent of lavender clung to the nostrils. Leila perused the shelf: award for academic achievement, first in class, top student… best in show. A framed photograph showed her standing next to some teacher, certificate in hand, smile fixed, eyes tired. The room was small, but that was not what made it claustrophobic. Embroidered flowers dulled on the square bedspread.

“They should clear out this room,” a voice behind her spoke low. Leila’s face cracked into a rare smile at the sight of her sister, but Maggie kept her eyes towards the floor. “It’s weird.” She had twisted her curly hair around a pencil and it sat poised on the top of her head. Leila pushed down a laugh. Chopsticks were in vogue this year. She reached to put her hand on Maggie’s shoulder, but before she could get there, there was a rumble of voices from downstairs and Maggie left the room. It felt like she took all the oxygen with her.

**

“So that’s the plan then, is it? Four months of nothing?”

“I won’t be doing nothing. I’m going travelling. I’ll be –”

“You’ll be wasting your time, that’s what you’ll be doing. You have an opportunity to do something useful.” Her father never raised his voice, but he also never raised his eyes. He was immersed in the newspaper.

The study was full of learning. Heavy textbooks and paper were arranged in alphabetical order. The only music was classical. The only thinking was academic. Leila looked down at her father’s bushy eyebrows and she opened her mouth to speak again, but stopped. There was no reasoning with his logic. Sighing, she left the room. She spent the rest of the day looking for volunteering jobs in India.

**

Leila released the handbrake, pressing her foot to the accelerator at the same time. Don’t roll. Don’t roll. The car travelled forwards.

“That was a very good hill start.” The examiner sounded impressed, then collected himself with a little cough. “Take the next left please.” Leila did as she was told, and there was a moment of silence, then she began to speak again, and once she started, she couldn’t stop.

“So anyway, yes, I’m going to volunteer at a school in India next year. I think it’s great to have the chance to help people.” She waited, but the examiner said nothing. “And then after that, I’m going to Oxford to read English. As long as I get the results, I mean.” The examiner remained silent. People usually reacted to the mention of Oxford, so she tried again. “I still can’t believe that I got in. It was such an intense interview, but the professors were actually nice. I guess they must have liked me after all. It will be good to meet other people. My fellow students.” Still, nothing. She turned to look at him, taking her eyes off the road.

The car came to a sudden, grinding halt. Leila looked down, noting that her foot was nowhere near the brake. They were centimetres behind a parked car, and the examiner had had to perform an emergency stop.

“I’m sorry to tell you that that is a major fault. You’ve failed the test. I’ll need to drive us back to the test centre.” It was like he had slapped her. As she climbed out of the car, she wiped her eyes on her overlong sleeve.

**

Her father drove them to pick up her A-Level results. Leila dug her hands into the sides of her seat. When she opened the envelope, she saw the letter A inscribed four times next to her chosen subjects: English, Physics, History and Maths. The tears fell onto the paper and her father put his arm around her.

“I’m so proud of you, Leila.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“This makes up for that driving test, doesn’t it?” She cried harder. “You’re going to do so well, my girl. This is just the beginning. Now let’s go home.”

Leila looked back at her classmates. They stood in little clusters, some smiling, others buried in their envelopes. Later, they would all go to the pub in the centre of the village. There would be pints and pool and kisses in the corner, and Leila wouldn’t be there. It wasn’t that she needed an invite to go to the pub. It was more that, once there, she would have nobody to talk to.

**

All of the clichés about India were true. It was like walking into an oven. It was an assault on the senses. The people she met were mostly warm and friendly, and Leila spent about half of her time in the bathroom and the other half sipping oral rehydration sachets. She couldn’t exactly say that she was happy. But there was something special about this place.

She shared a room with three others: Astrid, a Swedish girl with long blonde dreadlocks who meditated in her underwear each morning; Mia, a slim American who smoked incessantly; and Thiago, a Spanish boy who had quickly stolen her heart.

Thiago says he can’t believe he gets to share a room with three beautiful girls, Leila had written in a long missive to Maggie. I just can’t believe I get to share with him. He’s so handsome, Mags. And he is so nice too.

There were long days in hot classrooms, with fifty children ranging in age from toddler to teen. Leila tried to learn all of their names and the classroom was chaos. If Leila spoke softly, the translator was even quieter, her words lost in the noise. But the children loved their English teacher. When Leila arrived at the school each morning, they shouted her name and ran to hug her. She wasn’t sure how much English they had learned.

On their last night in the house, the group leader, Saanvi, brought a long blue sari for Leila to try. Spinning slowly as Saanvi wrapped her in the turquoise and gold fabric, Leila wasn’t thinking that this volunteering was going to look great on her CV. Instead, she thought that she looked good. Thiago wolf-whistled when he saw her, and she laughed, then reached for a cold beer. Mia and Astrid were writing in her notebook: Keep in touch, Leila. Let’s meet again in Europe. We love you!

In the car on the way to the airport, Leila gazed out of the window, thinking about friends, about Thiago, about her sister. She wanted to stay here forever, in this country of joy and noise and connection. England and Oxford suddenly seemed grey and airless. What lay ahead? Study, exams, a job in the city… There had to be another way. There could be a life of adventure and travel and sex and fun. After all, life was short, and she was only nineteen, and hadn’t she earned a bit of fun? She imagined talking to her father when she got home, telling him that she had changed her mind about her life, that all of her achievements meant nothing to her now. Because now she was free. Leila smiled. The colours flew past the window as the driver picked up speed, and the horn sounded, as always, as the car veered past the slow-moving lorries to overtake. And the horn kept sounding, and the crowded bus kept coming in the opposite direction, and this time there was no emergency stop.

**

Leila’s father sat in his study. He was reading, except he wasn’t. His eyes were fixed on the page and he was still. He was thinking about his daughter when she was young. When Leila had just turned one, she had loved her little bookshelf. She had spent many happy hours knelt in front of it, pulling books from the rectangular box to explore and read backwards. But she had also loved to dance. And clap. And when he had laid her on the mat to change her nappy, she had reached for the little comb and had tried to brush his dark hair. She would giggle as he blew raspberries on her tummy and the soles of her feet.

He had such pride in both of his daughters, for the way that they carried themselves in the world, for their kindness to each other, for the curious, intelligent people they had grown into. His love for them both was unrelenting, even if it was poorly expressed. He didn’t see Leila standing behind him. He couldn’t hear her as she whispered her love and forgiveness. At last, he stood up, shook his head free of the tears, and went to find Maggie.