She phoned Zak, but there was no answer, so she hung up and carried on home.
‘But he was my neighbour!’ Liliana said. ‘He passed away while you were in the wood. It was only me and Shalini who went to the funeral . . . poor old thing. I didn’t think to mention it – we were all so caught up with your homecoming celebrations.’
Aisha texted Zak:
U won’t believe it. Found Eddie Lowie’s grave, lived nxt door 2 Liliana. Died when we were in wood. Cd have met him in real life.
A message jumped straight into Aisha’s phone.
Ask 4 date he died?
‘Zak wants to know if you remember exactly when he died.’
‘I do actually. It was on the night of Diwali. I remember because it made Shalini so sad.’
Diwali. Aisha texted back.
That was the night he came to say goodbye. I met him. You 2 in your dream. Iona 2. We all did.
Aisha read Zak’s reply over and over.
‘I bumped into Zak the other day. Hardly recognized him with his short hair.’ Liliana smiled. ‘He looks older too. What’s his mum been feeding him? Shalini won’t know him when she comes back. He’s taller than you now. Handsome young man, isn’t he?’
Aisha shrugged and felt the heat rush to her face. It seemed as if Liliana, Muna and Ayan had made a pact to mercilessly tease her about Zak. They were always trying to find out if something was going on between them.
‘Has he asked you out yet? Come on, you can tell me,’ Muna had pressed again today in school. ‘I promise I won’t tell my mum anything or she’ll think you’re leading me astray! It’s bad enough that we’re always out walking your dog!’
‘As if!’ Aisha laughed. ‘We’re friends, OK? Just friends! He’s like a brother to me. I feel as if with you, Zak, Iona and Ayan, I’ve gained a brother and sisters.’
‘Right on, sister!’ Muna had raised her eyebrows incredulously and laughed.
Liliana stroked Conker’s head thoughtfully. She had never imagined that she would feel such fondness for a dog. It had taken some time for Aisha to persuade her to take in the puppy, but now she couldn’t imagine life without Conker around.
‘Mrs Kalsi was saying we should all go for a walk through Home Wood, get Red and her pups together. She thinks it’s time to let Elder’s ashes go.’
‘Henna! This way,’ cried Mrs Kalsi as her unruly puppy scrambled into the wood. ‘I am going to have to send Mr Kalsi to dog-training school.’
‘I think it’s Henna that needs to go!’ Iona joked.
‘Ha ha, very funny, cheeky girl!’ laughed Mrs Kalsi.
‘Amber! Over here!’ Zak called, and his dog came bounding straight over. ‘Good . . . sit!’ Zak handed the puppy a treat.
‘Just showing off now. Maybe I should send Henna to Zak for training instead! Mr Kalsi is always spoiling her with treats, making her fat. See? OK, then, you can have a little treat too.’ Mrs Kalsi relented, taking one out of her own pocket and holding it up for Henna.
‘It’s not for you, Conker!’ Liliana said as Conker leaped up and stole Henna’s treat mid-air.
‘Feisty!’ Liliana laughed, hugging Aisha to her.
‘Just one last time!’ Iona was saying as she stared into the conservation area. ‘It wouldn’t be right to scatter them anywhere else.’
Mrs Kalsi and Liliana reluctantly agreed, handed over Elder’s ashes, and walked the paths around the closed-off area, hoping that they wouldn’t have to explain themselves.
The floor of the wood was covered with a sea of bluebells and wild garlic and the air was perfumed by their bitter-sweet scent. It seemed as if the earth was finally springing back to life after the cold winter.
Aisha, Zak and Iona sat in the air-raid shelter, trying to take in all that had happened in the time that they had stayed here. Red lay across their knees as if she belonged to them all. The giant image of Elder with her wild leaf-threaded hair towered over them.
‘It’s a shame to think that no one’s going to see this for another ten years,’ Zak said.
‘Maybe it’ll have faded away by then.’
‘Would you mind if it does?’ Zak asked.
Iona shrugged. ‘It was about us, our time here, wasn’t it? Come on, let’s do this thing.’ She picked up the little wooden pot that contained Elder’s ashes and led the way up and over the air-raid shelter to the stream.
They sat down on the seat that Iona had carved while she walked over the fallen trunk to a small upright tree with branches arching over the water. It was covered in clusters of large white flower heads made up of hundreds of tiny lace-like constellations.
‘You know what these are, don’t you?’ She asked as she returned and placed the heads like delicate bouquets in Aisha and Zak’s hands keeping one back for herself. ‘Elder flowers!’ Iona whispered.
Aisha smiled as she examined hers closely, ‘or earthstars!’
Iona released the ashes slowly into the water then one by one Iona, Aisha and Zak scattered the flowers and watched them float away. Red lifted her head and sniffed the air as a gentle breeze whispered through the branches above them.
‘I’m as light as the leaves that fall as I walk, as light as leaf rain . . .’
Q & A with Sita Brahmachari
Your characters are all very different. What inspired you to bring them all together in one story?
People use the word ‘community’ a lot, but sometimes I wonder what that word means. In London, where I live, it’s possible for people from diverse backgrounds, hailing from all over the world, rich and poor, old and young, home dwellers and homeless, to be living in the same ‘community’ – they may pass in the street but never really get to know each other or have empathy for one another. By bringing such different characters together I wanted to explore what is meant by ‘community’.
How has your own life inspired Red Leaves?
Being of mixed heritage myself I have thought a lot about belonging and identity. Sometimes when I was young the term ‘half-caste’ was used for someone with dual heritage like me. I hated that label . . . because I felt that my background gave me access to double, not half, a world. I always wanted to write a story about young people from different cultures, backgrounds and religions coming together. It’s no coincidence that I’ve written Red Leaves now, when there is so much talk, lots of it negative, about migration that does not match with my experience of life in a vibrant, diverse city.
Where did the idea for the setting of Red Leaves come from?
I like to think up stories as I walk with my dog, Billie, and as I strolled through a city wood close to where I live the idea for Red Leaves began to emerge. Queen’s Wood in London (where, in my imagination, the book is set) dates back to the Domesday Book and is part of the ancient forest that used to cover the whole of the UK. There’s a wall plaque there inscribed with these words: ‘This wood is gifted to the people of the city forever.’ I like the idea of a place that is open to everyone who ever passes through the city, no matter where they are from or where they are going.
What is it about woodland that feeds your imagination?
When you live in a busy city, sometimes you feel the need to escape. The dense leaf canopies in woods can make you feel instantly cut off from the wider world . . . like stepping on to an island.
As well as writing novels I love writing for theatre. On the first day of rehearsals the designer presents a model box to the actors. It’s a little like a doll’s house except the box contains a miniature model of the theatre set and scenery, and little cut-out costumed characters of the actors, which are moved around to tell the story. This is the magical moment when I begin to see the play come to life. As I walked through Queen’s Wood thinking about the characters in my story I realized that Red Leaves already had its model box – an urban wood. I thought to myself, If this wood is ‘Britain’ now . . . it also contains Britain’s past . . . And these ancient trees stand as witnesses to its history, its inhabitants and their wars
and struggles.
Why did you call the wood in Red Leaves ‘Home Wood’?
Looking at the trees in the wood I wondered how deep their roots went underground. I wanted the roots of my characters’ pasts to burrow out beyond the woodland, through the city and across the world as far as Syria, Sri Lanka, Somalia and America. Ask people where their roots lead to and you will find yourself travelling the world. As my characters entered Home Wood I noticed that each of them was struggling to find a sense of belonging. So I call my wood Home Wood because it becomes the home my three young characters are searching for. It is a city wood that offers shelter to anyone searching for a safe and loving home. It reflects a home I want to live in, an open place that inspires compassion and is not afraid of change. This wood belonging ‘to the people of the city forever’ could be in any cosmopolitan city in the world.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my wonderful partner Leo and family, Maya, Keshin and Esha-Lily, for putting up with me disappearing into the woods of writing!
Thank you to Sophie Gorell Barnes of MBA Literary Agents for her constant support and sensitive readings of Red Leaves.
Thanks to my editor Venetia Gosling for our creative woodland editorial and the whole team at Macmillan Children’s Books for supporting my work.
Special thanks to Helen Bray (Assistant Editor), Rachel Vale (Art Director), Talya Baker (Copy Editor) and Catherine Alport (Publicity Manager).
Thank you also to Nicky Parker, Publisher at Amnesty. I am very proud that Amnesty International has endorsed Red Leaves as a book that speaks of Human Rights both at home and abroad.
I would like to thank Annie Birch, Subject Leader for Language and Literacy at St Paul’s Way Trust School, and the Somali Girl’s Advisory Group: Sado Ali, Naima Omar, Mymona Noor and Jakia Parbeen, who read an early draft of Red Leaves and contributed cultural and religious details for the character of Aisha.
Thank you to Mary Mcilroy for sharing with me her contemporary knowledge and experience of being a foster carer. Thank you also to Christine Tyler, whose experience of adoption informed the relationship between Liliana and Aisha. The kindness and compassion of these women are at the heart of this book.
Thank you to my mum Freda and late dad Amal Krishna Brahmachari, who had such wonderful community spirit.
The idea for the painting of the dog submitted to the Royal Academy exhibition came from a painting entitled Cassie by Amie Douglas. Amie was in Year 6 of primary school when her painting of a dog was chosen for the RA Summer Exhibition 2012.
With thanks to the Queen’s Wood Cafe for uncovering the memorial plaque and for holding the Elderflower Herbal Walk by The Handmade Apothecary, where I learned so much.
And last but not least I thank the beautiful red setter Nula and her pups, as well as our own lovely dogs, the late Ringo and our little dog Billie, for their loyal companionship and for inspiring the character of the beautiful dog Red and her puppies in Red Leaves.
Amnesty International
We are all born with human rights, no matter who we are or where we live. Sadly we are not always allowed to enjoy them.
Human rights are about justice, fairness, truth and freedom. We are all born with the right to an identity, for example, but also to equality, a home to belong to, freedom of movement and the entitlement to seek sanctuary. The three young characters in Red Leaves explore all these issues, and so do we as readers.
Our human rights are the bedrock of a healthy and diverse society. They help us to live good lives. But they are frequently under attack and we need to uphold them. Amnesty International is a movement of ordinary people from across the world standing up for humanity and human rights. We aim to protect individuals wherever justice, fairness, truth and freedom are denied.
If you’re a young person you can find out more about human rights and how to stand up for them at www.amnesty.org.uk/youth
If you’re a teacher you can find many free resources, including ‘Using Fiction to Teach Human Rights’, at www.amnesty.org.uk/education
Amnesty International UK
Human Rights Action Centre
17–25 New Inn Yard
London EC2A 3EA
020 7033 1500
www.amnesty.org.uk
@AmnestyUK
facebook.com/amnestyuk
Sita Brahmachari is the daughter of an Indian doctor from Kolkata and an English nurse from the Lake District. After studying for a degree in English Literature and an MA in Arts Education she worked in community theatre and in schools, exploring creative-writing projects and plays with young people. Now she writes novels for many of the people who have inspired her along the way.
Sita lives and works in London with her husband, three children and the much-loved family dog, Billie.
Praise for Sita Brahmachari
Artichoke Hearts
Winner of the 2011 Waterstones Children’s Book Prize, the 2012
Redbridge Children’s Book Award and nominated for the Carnegie Medal
‘A beautifully written book about family, friendship, grief and hope which made me laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time’
Anthony Browne, Children’s Laureate (2009–2011)
‘A welter of emotions engulf Mira in this touching pre-teen story about secrets and how to keep them and share them’
Julia Eccleshare, Lovereading.com
Jasmine Skies
Shortlisted for the Coventry Book Award and nominated for the Carnegie Medal
‘I wish Sita had been writing when I was growing up as this beautiful heartfelt book explores so eloquently the need to find your history in order to find yourself’ Meera Syal
‘Sita Brahmachari has such a loving touch with the way she delicately and compassionately picks her way through experiences, families and relationships’ Jamila Gavin
Kite Spirit
Nominated for the UKLA Book Award
‘Brahmachari writes with an incredible grace. She is very, very good at getting to the truth inside her work . . . Reading a book by Brahmachari is a very precious thing indeed’ Goodreads.com
‘An outstandingly beautiful story . . . Perfectly pitched and written with the utmost sensitivity and truly uplifting charm, this is a book to read and treasure. A moving and unmissable treat’
Lancashire Evening Post
www.sitabrahmachari.com
First published 2014 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2014 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-6299-2
Copyright © Sita Brahmachari 2014
Extract on this page from ‘The Moods’ from
The Wind Among the Reeds (1899) by W. B. Yeats
On this page, the character Elder misremembers
‘Binsey Poplars’ by Gerard Manley Hopkins
The right of Sita Brahmachari to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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