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13.
GABI SPOTTED AISHA WAITINGfor her outside the café, and her heart raced. When Aisha greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, heat flushed Gabi’s face and she trembled. She shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at Aisha feeling like a teenager and a little lost for words. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Aisha rubbed her hands together and appeared as nervous as Gabi felt.
“You’re early,” Gabi said.
Aisha held out cotton cloth wrapped around something small. “I made this for you.”
Gabi peeled the cloth back and revealed a cube-shaped biscuit. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled. “Smells good.”
“Taste it.”
Gabi bit into the crunchy exterior and found a soft centre. Lemon zest burst on her tongue. “Um, that’s amazing.”
Aisha looked at her watch and around the street, and the smile she’d greeted Gabi with became lost and was replaced by a frown. “Come on, it’s this way.” Aisha set off at a pace and Gabi strode out to catch her up. “I can’t stay long as I have to get back,” Aisha said.
The lemon turned bitter in Gabi’s mouth. She’d hoped they could spend the morning at the bookshop and maybe grab lunch together. Perhaps she’d upset Aisha, but she couldn’t think of anything she’d done that might have offended her, and people didn’t bring gifts if they’d been upset. But something wasn’t quite right. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Aisha’s fleeting glance as she spoke wasn’t convincing. Aisha increased her pace and led Gabi down a series of cobbled streets. She entered a shop with a window display of pieces of antique furniture, old clocks, and glass bottles that looked as if they’d been dug out of someone’s back garden, and a handful of hardback books whose covers were faded and marked.
The smell of wood and wax struck her as they stepped inside. The room was crowded with large ornaments and furniture, and unidentifiable items that Gabi would have had thrown out as junk rather than given them house room. She would tell Nana about the place though because Nana would browse for hours in here. She followed Aisha to the back of the shop where the wall supported three shelves of books. Books littered the floor below the stacked shelves in piles knee-height. She breathed in the scent of old paper, musty oak, and leather. It was a little reminiscent of Nana’s office back home, only more disorganised.
“Hola, Aisha.”
The man behind the counter who greeted them looked older than the antiques in the window. His long grey hair gave him a wizard-like appearance, which seemed fitting since it would take some feat of magic to know where everything was inside the shop.
“José, this is my friend, Gabi. We’ve come to look at books.”
“You know where they are better than me,” he said and laughed.
“You need to get organised.”
“And spoil the joy of discovery? I am glad you came in. I found something for you.” He started searching through the books on the floor.
Gabi glanced at the titles on a shelf.Gardening For All Seasonsleaned against theDiary of Anne Frank, which rested againstA Brief History of Humankind. There were cartoon books with French titles and an English Guide to Granada that was probably a few years out of date. That joy of discovery he talked about would take hours if she was looking for a specific title.
“Here,” he said and brushed the cover of the hardback he’d found before handing it to Aisha.
Aisha gasped. “Gabriela Mistral is in here.”
Gabi looked over her shoulder. “Who’s she?”
“She was a Latin American author. She won a Nobel Prize for her poetry. This is incredible. Thank you.”
José smiled. “I knew you would appreciate it. It’s a compilation of some of the greatest poets.”
The shop door opened, and José excused himself to deal with the new customer.
Gabi watched Aisha leaf slowly through the pages, her lips moving as if tasting the words. It was sensual and mesmerising. Aisha’s eyes narrowed, and she swallowed, and sighed, and held her hand to her heart. Gabi wanted to kiss her. “You really love poetry,” she said, her voice affected.
Aisha smiled. “It opens my eyes.” Aisha looked towards José. “I used to come here as a child on a Saturday when Mama came into town, and I’d help with stacking and sorting the books. José helped me learn to read stories and then poetry. Words are everything. Love, loss, suffering, passion, hatred, and joy, and everything we know or can dream of can be captured in just a few lines. It’s compelling. It gives me hope. It makes my heart ache and sing.” She sighed. “It makes me realise I’m not alone in the way I feel,” she said softly.
Gabi wanted to hold Aisha so badly the strain of holding back was excruciating. “How do you feel?” she asked.
Aisha held Gabi’s gaze with a thoughtful expression. “Confused. Trapped.”
