The rainbow swept from the east to the west, across the entire horizon behind the field, its colours vivid and intense against the wind-tossed clouds of grey. A bow topped by crimson the colour of Jasmine’s boots, orange like autumn leaves then citrus yellow. Green like Jasmine’s t-shirt and blue like Dad’s. It finished with indigo like twilight and the soft violet of a new dawn.
Jasmine climbed back onto her feet and twirled beneath the rainbow. She turned and gazed at her mother and watched as she climbed down onto the wall and made her way towards the field. She slid down and landed in the grass.
“Do you see that?” Jasmine yelled as her mum walked towards her. “Do you see that?” Jasmine threw up her arms to embrace the sky. “Do you see her? Do you see her? Is she here?”
Belligerent tears escaped as she stared at her approaching parent.
“Is she here?” demanded Jasmine.
Mum shook her head and began running, slipping on the wet grass and sliding as she made her way to her daughter.
“Is she here?” cried Jasmine, dropping her hands to her hips.
Mum shook her head again and ran, her own cries echoing beneath the broken sky as she tried to contain her sobs. Mum caught her daughter in her arms and hugged her.
“No, she’s not here, Jasmine, she’s not here, not anymore—but you are!” Mum wept into Jasmine’s hair.
“You didn’t see her, beneath the rainbow?” choked Jasmine.
“No,” breathed her mother enfolding Jasmine. “I didn’t see Freya beneath the rainbow—I saw you! I saw you! I see you!”
Blue Ted and Purple Ted both sat in the redecorated spare bedroom, and Jasmine glanced up at them as she bit through the sticky tape. She carefully placed the tape across two pieces of torn paper, meticulously fixing them together as closely as she could. She lined up the next two pieces and smoothed more tape across them, before sticking all four together.
She flattened the restored piece of paper, pressing out the last crumples and turned it over. She mounted it on a new piece of purple card and glued it down. She sighed softly as she gazed at the finished repair.
Freya’s list lay before her and she reached behind to pick up the new silver frame. She placed the list within the frame and stared at the childish desires of her sister’s heart. She gently traced the large, rounded script. “Sandcastles…” she murmured, “flowers and rainbows…”
She wondered what Freya’s aspirations would be now if she sat opposite Jasmine. Her fingers instinctively moved to her neck and touched the silver locket at her throat. Her fingers tingled.
A call came up the stairs. “Jasmine?”
“Yes, Mum?” she called back.
“Dad’ll be home in half an hour, does that give you enough time to finish what you’re doing?” Mum’s voice oozed curiosity.
“Yes, I’ll be ready…”
The lounge door closed and Jasmine grinned. Dad’s birthday was a celebration, the end of the school year and Jasmine had chosen the occasion to make restitution.
A thud hit the floor over by the window and she glanced over at the cat wandering confidently towards her. She buried her face in his long, fluffy grey coat and purred with him. “Hey, Horatio,” she murmured. “It’s all about new starts isn’t it?” She plunged her fingers into his fur and he stared up at her with satisfied orange eyes.
Jasmine moved to the window. Dusk fell, the pale sky finally giving way to night’s indigo above the thick streak of orange behind the horizon. The little oak tree stood, a silhouette upon the hill, and Jasmine’s eyes trailed from the tree up into the sky. Eventide’s first rising star glimmered, twinkling in the twilight and Jasmine smiled. “Maybe she’s up there somewhere, up there in the distant stars.”
She stroked Horatio and grinned. “No time to waste…” she said and climbed out of the window with a rucksack on her back.
◆◆◆◆◆
Jasmine sat on the old oak bench, her arms clutching her knees to her chest when Mum and Dad traipsed up the hill, holding jars with tea lights inside. The ribbon of orange turned pink and the sun sank behind the hill as Jasmine hugged her knees closer, relishing surprise and happiness on her parents’ faces. The cat padded softly through the long grass and nosed the basket beside the stump. “No,” reproved Jasmine sharply and slid off the bench to gently push the insistent cat away. She turned to her parents. “I wanted to surprise you and celebrate the beginning of summer!”
“To new beginnings.” Her Dad nodded and picked up a bottle and glasses. “Here’s to us!”
Dad opened his birthday gift from his wife and kissed her until Jasmine groaned.
“What about mine?” She laughed.
They chuckled and sat up and Jasmine’s face, as the sky slipped into night, became serious. “This is for both of you.” She held out a lilac wrapped package. Dad took it and Mum pulled the pale-blue ribbon loose.
Dad’s eyes gleamed with emotion as he unwrapped a silver frame and they reverently read out their lost daughter’s dreams. Mum bit her lip and Jasmine spoke softly. “I’m sorry, really sorry. It’s the best repair I can do…”
“It’s perfect.” Dad smiled. “And you’ve even matched up the chocolate smear—thank you Jasmine, this means the world.”
Jasmine glanced at Mum, as Mum reached into the wrapping paper. She gently pulled out a necklace. It spilled over her fingers, in a delicate trail of silver wire, dotted with tiny silver stars. “It’s for you,” Jasmine squeaked, her voice catching. “I missed your birthday. I made it for you…and your distant star.”
Tears shimmered behind Mum’s eyes and she nodded.
Dad took the necklace and fastened it around Mum’s neck, and Mum reached out to her daughter. Jasmine leaned close and they fell into a hug. When Jasmine pulled away she spoke. “There’s one more thing…”
She held out an envelope and Dad took it. He opened it and slid out a piece of card, pale-blue card. Attached was a piece of paper and a heading. He read it out loud. “‘Our Wishes’?”
“We’ve got Freya’s list and you completed it, you did it all for her. I thought we should have a new list. I’ve written three things—the rest we can work on together,” explained Jasmine, her voice shaking with the evening chill, apprehension and nerves.
Dad touched the heading, running his thumb across Jasmine’s fancy scripted writing. He smiled.
Jasmine continued. “The first thing is just because, because you did it for Freya, but I’m too young to remember. And I want to make one too! The second, we can do with your new present.” She tapped his brand new telescope. “And the third, we can do together…”
Dad stared at the page with a grin. “‘Build a sandcastle, touch stars, and chase rainbows…’.”
Mum smiled. “I don’t need to chase rainbows anymore,” she said, “I already found what I’m looking for…right here.”
Jasmine grinned and leaned back onto the grass resting her head in her mother’s lap. She stared up into the sky. The locket at her throat glistened in the twilight and the stars in the distance above twinkled in affirmation.
The End
I offer much gratitude to my family for their endless support and to my beta readers—Beth Avery, Laura James, Lizzie Koch and Ruth Long for their insight and valuable feedback. I also wish to thank Blue Harvest Creative, my Publishing Partners, who always lift my morale and my dreams.
A last word of appreciation goes to my readers, without you my words and stories would be lost. If you’ve enjoyed my story, please consider leaving a short review on your favorite review site or blog, and you will have my endless gratitude.
Lisa began weaving intricate stories inside her imagination from a young age, but these days her words find themselves bursting forth in the forms of flash fiction, short stories, and novels.
She was born and raised in vibrant Brighton, England, and living by the ocean heavily influenced her lyrical and emotional writing. She works with the senses, description and colour, and her read
ers will easily visualise the narrative. A wife and mother, Lisa draws inspiration from family life, faith, memory, and imagination. Lisa lives in Carmarthen, West Wales, another town rich in legend and lore.
Visit the author at:
www.lisashambrook.com
www.bhcpress.com
Beneath the Distant Star Page 16