One Thousand Stars and You

by Isabelle Broom

Alice opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. Steph’s description was unarguably accurate.

  ‘Here it is!’ cried Maureen, holding her cosmetic bag aloft as if it was the FA Cup and carrying it reverently into the bathroom. There was no way that she could have the hots for Lurch, thought Alice, rubbing her head. None of this was making any sense whatsoever.

  She was just scraping her hair back into a bun ready to wash the day off her face, when Maureen re-emerged from the en suite in her bra and shorts, reeking of perfume and wearing enough red lipstick to stop traffic.

  ‘OK.’ Alice held her hands up. ‘I give up. What the hell is going on? Why are you getting all tarted up?’

  ‘Do you think the lippy is too much?’ asked Maureen, directing her question at Steph rather than Alice.

  ‘That depends,’ replied Steph, not turning to look, ‘on what it’s for.’

  ‘Not what – who!’ Maureen told them, clearly exasperated. ‘What is wrong with you two – did you not see those two hotties when we arrived?’

  ‘I only saw the butler from The Addams Family,’ Alice informed her. ‘Unless you persuaded Vidu to stay for a drink …’

  Steph started laughing, abandoning her comb in her unruly curls.

  ‘Trust me,’ said Maureen, pulling a clean top out of her backpack and yanking it on. ‘There are two gorgeous men sitting at a table just around the corner from us, and every moment that we spend in this room is a wasted one. Now come on!’

  ‘But my hair …’ began Steph, but Maureen was already thrusting a band in her direction.

  ‘Tie it up,’ she instructed, then turned to Alice.

  ‘Aren’t you going to get changed?’

  Alice had pre-planned her outfit for each day of their stay, and packed them in order in her bag. The thought of rooting through them all now looking for a dress seemed ridiculous.

  ‘Nah,’ she said, wriggling her hot toes into flip-flops. ‘If I look like a tramp, then you two will look all the better next to me.’

  ‘You couldn’t look like a tramp if you tried,’ said Steph loyally, but she, too, was now applying make-up. What a bloody palaver, thought Alice. All this fuss and preparation for two random blokes that they’d never met before and would probably never see again after tonight. The only holiday romance that she was remotely interested in having was with Sri Lanka, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine meeting a person that would delight and enthral her as much as this country already had.

  6

  Max

  If I should die,

  Remember me whole,

  Not torn and broken,

  Robbed of my soul …

  Max had seen the girls arrive; had watched as the car headlights were distorted by the mass of undergrowth that lay between the cabins and the road. The wheels of the vehicle crunched over the gravel driveway, reminding him of a time now past – a time where a stony pathway felt treacherous, the sharp edge of each pebble a trap waiting to be sprung. Reaching instinctively for his wrist, he felt the thick rubber band between his fingers. It was always there, a comfort and a necessity, and it stilled his mind to feel it, taut against his skin.

  He heard the car come to a stop and the sound of the doors opening. He could not see its occupants from where he and Jamal were sitting, two bottles of beer dribbling beads of condensation on to the wooden table top in front of them, but he could hear their voices. Three British females, he identified, one much more vocal than the others. And from the gentle grunts and groans, he’d be willing to bet they each had a hefty backpack in tow. Even Max had been surprised at the weight of his own bag, despite being well practised in the art of lugging kit around.

  He wondered if it was the start of the girls’ trip, or the end. He knew that some visitors chose to begin in the Cultural Triangle area of Sri Lanka, while others headed south and went straight to the beaches – a bit of rest and relaxation before tackling the climbs and treks further north. A beach holiday didn’t interest Max in the slightest – he’d done enough lying down.

  An image of his mother drifted into his mind unheeded, and Max reached for his beer and took a slug as he recalled, yet again, the tense conversation they’d had the morning he left. She didn’t understand this need that he had, to come out to Sri Lanka and explore. He wanted to push himself as hard as he was able, but he also needed to get away – from her more than anyone. Being at home was slowly suffocating him, and only now he was here, did Max feel as if he could breathe again. Ironic, really, considering how wet the air was in Sri Lanka. He had known it would be hot, of course he had, but he hadn’t factored in just how much the humidity would cause him to sweat.

  He plucked at the damp material of his T-shirt, which had begun to adhere itself to his back, and grimaced. Jamal, sitting across from him, twitched a dark eyebrow of enquiry. Jamal never seemed to sweat, the lucky bastard.

  ‘Getting all hot and bothered around me again?’ Jamal joked, picking at the label of his Lion Lager.

  ‘Well, I’m only human,’ quipped Max, and was rewarded with an easy smile. Jamal was always smiling – his grin was his greatest asset. Max could still remember the first time he’d seen it, back when there didn’t seem to be anything left to smile about. Over time, of course, he learned that there was plenty. You just had to know where to look. Max knew that there was more good in the world than bad, and he’d seen some of the darkest acts a man can see. The trick was simply to focus on what was still in the glass – the fullness that remained even when what you believed to be the essence had been drained away. There was always tomorrow – hell, there was always right now.

  Max heard a door slamming shut, and cocked his head towards the sound. Some habits die hard, he thought. Perhaps he should write about them, these well-worn instincts. Try to put into words the way they lurked like unexploded bombs through the unfolding path of his life. An unfortunate analogy, but an accurate one. What would Jamal say, he mused, if he pulled his notebook and pencil out of his back pocket and started scribbling down the verses of a new poem? Would his friend mock him? No. Max was certain Jamal would be nothing but encouraging. But he still wasn’t ready to share that side of himself with anyone. Not yet.

  ‘Eyes up,’ said Jamal, letting go of his bottle so quickly that it spun slightly on the spot. ‘We’ve got company.’

  Max blinked, just once, although he would remember it as a far more profound pause later. Because later there would only be Before, and then forever there would be After.

  7

  Alice noticed his eyes first. They were deep-set, symmetrical, and looked almost black beneath his thick, straight brows. He had brown hair, perhaps a shade or two lighter than her own, and it was short all over save for a section at the very front that he’d swept up to one side. Alice imagined him in front of a mirror, gel between his fingers which he then transferred through the strands in a single, practised movement. His jaw was strong and set, his bottom lip full on a mouth that was slightly upturned at the corners. You couldn’t call it a smile exactly, but there was an openness there, the hint of amusement, a laugh waiting in the wings.

  There was a healthy amount of stubble across his jaw, but it looked deliberate rather than unkempt, and as Alice stared at him, the stranger brought up a hand as if to brush away an itch. He was watching her, too, she realised, dropping her eyes quickly and feeling the heat creep into her cheeks.

  ‘Ladies.’

  This came from the other man at the table, and Alice turned her head to see dark eyes, dark skin and a wide, warm smile.

  An enthusiastic Maureen made the introductions.

  ‘Hey, I’m Maur – well, Maureen, but everyone calls me Maur – Maur, not less.’ A cackle. ‘And this is Steph, and Alice. Have you guys just arrived, too? It took us forever to get here. We drove all the way from Colombo, past the elephant orphanage – have you been? Oh, you have beers – thank God. I could murder a beer. Where’s that man gone?’

  Lurch appeared in the crack of the partiall
y open doorway behind them so quickly that he could only have been lurking there in wait.

  ‘Ah, there you are!’ said Maureen happily, gesturing to the beers on the table. ‘Can we order three more of these, please?’

  Lurch nodded, before melting away once more. Alice fought the compulsion to laugh again. For some reason, she was feeling incredibly light-headed, and banged her elbow on the table in her haste to sit down.

  ‘Shit!’ she muttered, rubbing the spot. Why people referred to it as the funny bone when it was anything but, she would never understand.

  ‘Squidge up,’ said Steph, who wanted to sit beside her, and Alice shuffled along the bench seat until she was almost right next to the man she’d been caught staring at. He was wearing baggy blue tracksuit bottoms and a black T-shirt, which Alice couldn’t help but notice clung to the muscles across his chest and upper arms.

  ‘You OK there?’ he asked, and their eyes met again. There was a directness in his that Alice had never encountered before, and she found herself absurdly unable to speak for a moment.

  ‘Yes,’ she finally managed. ‘Thank you.’

  The man responded with a half-smile.

  ‘What are your names, then?’ asked Maureen. She had chosen the only free chair, which was diagonally across from the man with the massive grin.

  ‘I’m Jamal,’ he said. ‘And my boy here is Max.’

  ‘How old are you both?’ Maureen went on boldly.

  ‘Maur!’ cried Steph in amusement. ‘You can’t just ask a person their age like that.’

  Max lifted and dropped his shoulders and Alice caught a whiff of peppery aftershave.

  ‘Doesn’t bother me,’ he said. ‘But if we tell, I reckon it’s only fair that you ladies do, too.’

  ‘You first,’ demanded Maureen, her pale-green eyes narrowing flirtatiously as she ran them over him. Alice shifted in her seat, unable to find a comfortable position, suddenly aware not only of every limb, but the exact arrangement of her facial features. The top she’d been wearing all day felt itchy against her skin, her denim shorts too tight.

  ‘Fair enough.’ Max fingered his bottle of beer as he looked across at Maureen. ‘I’m thirty-three.’

  ‘And I’m thirty-seven,’ added Jamal, grinning as they all looked at him in surprise. ‘I know, I know, I don’t look it. Must be all that Oil of Olay I pinch off my mum.’

  ‘If that’s what you use, I’m going to order in a lifetime supply,’ said Steph, and Jamal beamed at her, his eyes, noticed Alice, lingering slightly longer than was strictly necessary. Maureen explained about the three of them all turning thirty being the reason for their trip, and as she was talking, Lurch returned with a tray of beers and some cutlery, which he laid out in front of them.

  ‘I don’t think there’s such a thing as a menu here,’ Max explained, turning to Alice. ‘I think you just eat what you’re given.’

  ‘Suits me.’ She braved a glance at him. ‘I’ve been looking forward to trying some Sri Lankan cuisine. The hotel we stayed at last night was nice, but they didn’t have much traditional stuff.’

  Max nodded, understanding. ‘The food is all part of the experience.’

  Alice relaxed a fraction.

  ‘Have you travelled a lot?’ she asked, even though the answer was obvious. There was something about this man that exuded worldliness – she could sense it in the creases around his eyes, and the rather pensive expression on his face as he considered her question.

  ‘I guess so,’ he replied. ‘Although perhaps not to anywhere that you would choose to go.’

  ‘Oh?’ she began in response, but Maureen cut across her.

  ‘Jamal’s just invited us to go to Sigiriya tomorrow,’ she told Alice. ‘That’s the place with the big rock, right?’

  It’s slightly more than that, thought Alice, but chose not to elaborate. They had planned to visit the cave temples in nearby Dambulla first, perhaps followed by a drive out to the ancient city of Polonnaruwa, but she didn’t suppose it mattered what order they saw things. Sigiriya was one of the places she wanted to see most of all while they were here, second only to Adam’s Peak, the mountain in the centre of the country which you traditionally climbed through the night so you could watch the sunrise from the summit. Alice had come across it during her research into Sri Lanka and persuaded Steph and Maureen that they simply must see it. The thought of being up that high made her heart lighten.

  She heard herself agreeing wholeheartedly to the Sigiriya plan before her brain had proper time to think about how Richard would react. He trusted her, of course he did, but no man would be thrilled about the idea of his girlfriend spending time with strange men on holiday. Then again, she thought stubbornly, this wasn’t like a normal package trip, with chartered flights and organised sightseeing – they were roughing it with backpacks, like proper travellers, so the rules were different.

  Perhaps, whispered a voice from deep inside her, it would make more sense simply not to tell Richard about Max and Jamal. Not yet, anyway. What was the point in stressing him out when he was so far away?

  ‘She does that,’ Steph said with affection, snapping Alice back into the present moment. Her friend was leaning over her to talk to Max, who was in turn peering at Alice with amusement. ‘Vanishes into her own little world in the middle of a conversation. Alice in Wonderland is what I tend to call her, because she’s always off in one.’

  ‘Alice in Wonderland, eh?’ The corners of Max’s mouth turned up. ‘I like it.’

  There was nothing Alice could say in her own defence; it was all true. Instead, she concentrated on drinking some more of her beer.

  Lurch arrived with plates of food and glasses of papaya juice, which was thick and gloopy and unfortunately tasted a lot like Alice imagined stagnant washing-up water might, if you were ever inclined to sample it. They waited until he had gone back inside to exclaim in whispered voices how revolting it was, laughing as they all agreed they would have to force it down regardless, so as not to offend their host. Luckily, the home-made vegetable curry that came with it was delicate in flavour, and the fresh spices made Alice’s taste buds zing with pleasure. Rather than the slop she was accustomed to from the local takeaway back home, Lurch’s curry contained crunchy beans, corn and wonderfully sweet tomatoes, and was flavoursome rather than hot.

  Max ate quickly, one hand using a spoon to scoop up the rice and curry and the other resting in his lap. There was an elastic band around one of his wrists, Alice noticed, and a thin gold chain disappeared into the front of his T-shirt. She didn’t often wear jewellery, didn’t really own much save for a few pairs of plain stud earrings, and she glanced down now at the bare fingers on her left hand, trying to imagine how a ring would look there. A gold band with a diamond set into it – a piece of jewellery that announced to the world that she was spoken for, that she belonged to someone, that she had been chosen to become Richard’s wife.

  Alice blinked and looked away.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Max said it quietly enough that only she would hear. He had lowered his mouth to her ear and his breath felt hot on her cheek.

  She nodded, overwhelmed suddenly with a bizarre compulsion to tell him exactly what she was thinking. Despite her unusual proximity to a man who wasn’t Richard, Alice didn’t feel uncomfortable being so close to Max. She felt something, but it wasn’t an emotion exactly – it was more a sense. Something inherent within her that felt inexplicably soothed and safe. How could it be possible to feel so at home with a total stranger?

  ‘I was just thinking about Sigiriya,’ she lied. It was always easier to lie. ‘I hope I make it to the top.’

  ‘Me too,’ Max agreed, picking up his beer only to remember that he’d drunk it all.

  Alice made a show of looking him up and down.

  ‘You look in pretty good shape to me,’ she said, blushing at her unintentional disloyalty to Richard. ‘I bet you’ll leg it up there in no time.’

  Max smiled at that, but it didn’t qu
ite reach his eyes. Now that she was sitting so close to him, Alice could see that they were blue, just like her own.

  ‘Appearances can be deceiving,’ he replied, ripping a bit of label off his bottle. Alice sensed that she’d somehow caused him to close a door on her, but she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps she was being over-familiar? She would have been offended if he’d commented on her physique, so why had she felt like it was acceptable to do the same to him?

  ‘I didn’t mean to …’ she started to say awkwardly, stopping before she added the word ‘upset’. How could she have upset him? She was being ridiculous.

  ‘So, why Sri Lanka?’ Max asked, wisely changing the subject. ‘Of all the places in the whole world, what drew you here?’

  ‘It was Maur’s idea,’ Alice said, gesturing towards her dark-haired friend. ‘And I have to admit, it was an inspired one. We’ve only been here since last night and I love it already.’

  She scooped up another mouthful of curry and smiled at him. ‘How about you guys?’

  Max considered this momentarily, and as she waited for him to reply, Alice uncrossed her clammy legs under the table and promptly kicked him hard in the shin.

  ‘Fu—I mean, oops,’ she spluttered, cringing away from him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Max didn’t even flinch.

  ‘Didn’t feel a thing,’ he said, and smiled at her with such warmth that Alice couldn’t help but return it in kind. The air between them suddenly felt to Alice as if it was crackling with energy, and she was relieved when Jamal distracted Max with a suggestion of more beers.

  Maureen then took over the conversation where Alice had left it, and Max told them that Sri Lanka had been on his bucket list for a long time – mainly because he, too, wanted to scale Adam’s Peak.

  ‘We met a Sri Lankan dude called Senura at the last place we stayed,’ he said. ‘He told us that he climbs the Peak every year with his eighty-six-year-old grandmother.’

  ‘Eighty-six?’ exclaimed Alice.

  ‘I know, right?’ Max laughed. ‘The Sri Lankans call Adam’s Peak Sri Pada, which I think translates as “sacred footprint”, or something like that.’