‘Do people laugh at you?’
‘Are you cross with the men who made the bomb?’
Max had answered all their queries as honestly as he was able, admitting that yes, he had cried an awful lot, and that no, he wasn’t cross, because being cross wasted too much energy, and he needed as much of that as he could get nowadays. He should do more of that kind of thing, he thought, watching in a half-trance as the bus braked hard to avoid a man who was casually towing a cow across the road. Visit more schools and educate more kids about the reality of living with a prosthetic limb. Curiosity was important, and he hated the idea of those same children growing up with a lack of knowledge that could so easily turn into disregard, or worse, judgement.
It was easier having a prosthetic now than it must have been even ten years ago, thanks to things like Prince Harry’s Invictus Games, the Paralympics, and celebrities like Jonnie Peacock taking part in Strictly Come Dancing. People were generally accepting, and Max rarely if ever found himself heckled or reviled, but then again, he was uncomfortable with the notion of an artificial limb being worn like some sort of badge of honour. There was a lot more to being an amputee than overcoming a physical abnormality, and Max believed it was important to show people the whole story, not just the positive, attention-grabbing headlines. The public wanted a happy ending to their stories, a fallen hero winning a medal being just one of many, but the truth was far more subtle and complicated.
Max took a deep breath, stifling a yawn and stretching his arms up above his head. The traffic on the other side of the window was building, and he guessed they would soon be arriving in Kandy. Checking his watch, he calculated that he and Jamal would have perhaps an hour in which to locate and check into their hotel, before finding their way to the Botanical Gardens and the three waiting girls. He knew Jamal was buzzing at the thought of seeing Steph again, and there was a fluttering of sorts in Max’s own stomach, too.
18
Alice sat down on a low bench just inside the entrance to the Peradeniya Botanical Gardens, waiting for Steph and Maureen to get back from the shop. Today was Good Friday in Sri Lanka, but the pace in Kandy didn’t seem to have slowed down at all. Of course, Alice concluded, the majority of people in Sri Lanka – over seventy per cent, according to her guidebook – were Buddhists, while Christians only accounted for around eight per cent. Alice was not religious, had not been raised as such, but she had always respected individual people’s faith. Buddhism, from what she had read, seemed very reasonable and moderate. She could get on board with the idea of not harming living things, not stealing and not becoming too intoxicated by drugs or alcohol – but she didn’t think any self-respecting Buddhist would welcome her with open arms, either. Because, and it made Alice cringe inwardly to think about it, Buddhism strictly forbade lying of any kind.
How could people get through life without telling even a few white lies? Alice found it hard to fathom. Lies were necessary if you wanted to avoid hurting people. If Alice confessed to her mother that she still occasionally acted recklessly just to deflate the balloon of anxiety that built up inside her chest, it would only end in a row.
She had tried once to be completely, unflinchingly honest about her behaviour. She had admitted to Richard that on the weekend she had vanished from university, on the pretext of doing some research for an essay, she had in fact gone on an intensive diving course. She had expected understanding – perhaps even admiration – but he had been appalled. Ever since then, the knowledge that she had misled him had spread like weeds through their relationship, strangling the freedom she craved and suffocating her aspirations to do anything that could put her at risk. Her need to be adventurous, and to let that younger and less trustworthy version of herself burst boisterously back into her life and lead her astray, had almost cost her Richard. Alice had been steadfastly trying to bury any remnant of that version of herself from that day until this. On the days she failed, such as on her recent trip up to the diving board at the pool, she simply kept the information concealed. It was easier that way, and better for everyone.
Earlier that morning, Alice had woken before the others and crept out on to Chatura and Monisha’s balcony, settling herself down in one of the fold-out chairs and gazing across to where the sun was steadily rising behind the mountains. As the day slowly unfurled like spring blossom, she found that she could hear six or seven different birdsongs. A gentle and most welcome breeze was bothering the topmost leaves in the trees, and a fine mist sat suspended in the middle distance. Below her, the garden was a vivid jungle of colour – reds battled with yellows, while pinks caressed their purple neighbours, and insects buzzed with contentment as they made their way from petal to stem.
She had heard back from Richard late the previous night, his message pinging through as soon as they returned to the homestay and her phone picked up the Wi-Fi connection. It didn’t say much, save for telling her the house was very quiet without her, and not to forget to call him on her birthday. This would be the first one Alice had not spent with him in over ten years, and it was an important one, too. She would be thirty – a real, unequivocal adult, eight years older than her mum had been when she got married, and five years older than Richard had once told her he wanted to be when he said his vows. She had been batting away conversations about marriage since they met – and for what? What was so terrifying about putting on the white dress and having what was essentially a nice party? Alice knew that it wasn’t the separate elements of that one day which concerned her, however; it was what came next, once the confetti had been swept up and the champagne flutes returned to the caterers – it was the ever after that made her feel uneasy.
Steph would talk almost wistfully about the grand wedding she hoped to have one day, while Maureen seemed to view marriage as more of a business transaction, but there was no doubt in either of her friends’ minds that it was something they both wanted – a goal to aim towards that must be achieved. Alice often thought there must be something intrinsically wrong with her, because she was no more desperate to get married than she was to fall through the roof of a greenhouse again. The idea of being Richard’s wife was comforting, but it wasn’t exciting. She knew that a wedding was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, second only to the moment you become a parent. That’s what everyone said, and she understood why, but she had never genuinely longed for it.
Poor Richard, Alice had thought as she sat on that balcony, crossing her ankles in her chair and squinting as the sun clambered higher in the sky. The heat was winning the battle against that eerie morning mist, and as Alice stared, the view below her grew in clarity and richness. There were so many greens, blues and whites – she felt as if she’d strolled on to the set of a 1950s’ technicolour movie.
If only a tornado would swoop down and pick her up, like it had done to Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz. If only she could be carried away to a distant shore, where the real world no longer existed, and be left there, in that alternate reality. But no, she told herself sternly – that was a selfish wish. The allure of spontaneity might be a strong one, but it meant putting her own happiness ahead of everyone else’s. As a child, Alice had approached every time adventure beckoned a finger, and look how that had ended up. She wanted to fight these thoughts and focus on the future that was already mapped out for her, however predictable it might be.
She looked up now from her spot on the Botanical Garden bench, and smiled as she saw who was approaching. They all must have bumped into each other outside. Jamal already had his arm around Steph, and she was glowing even pinker than Alice’s sunburned knees, while Maureen was chatting away to Max, her flirt-o-meter cranked up to a strong ten as she flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and laughed at something he’d said. He was wearing baggy brown cargo shorts today and a Breton T-shirt, his hair hidden underneath a navy baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses in one hand.
Alice stood as they drew closer, and Max lifted his free hand in greeting, smiling at her wit
h what felt to Alice like genuine affection. He was happy to see her, just as she was to see him.
‘Nice top,’ he appraised, and Alice looked down at herself.
‘Nirvana have yet to be eclipsed musically, in my opinion,’ she replied, stroking the printed image of Kurt Cobain.
‘You’re not a One Direction fan, then?’ he asked, and Alice shook her head.
‘Phew!’ he laughed, pretending to wipe his brow. ‘That could have been the end of our friendship right there.’
‘What’s wrong with One D?’ Steph exclaimed. ‘Zayn Malik is the prettiest man alive, if you ask me.’
‘Ahem,’ said Jamal, releasing her from his grasp. ‘I think you mean second prettiest.’
Steph made a show of looking him up and down.
‘No,’ she said sweetly. ‘Zayn still has the edge.’
‘Well, you’re off my Christmas card list, young lady,’ he joked, then pulled her back against him and kissed her quickly on the lips.
Maureen began filling the boys in on their amusing morning in Kandy. Chatura had insisted on driving them into town via his friend’s gem store, which turned out to have a mini museum in the basement, and all three girls had felt compelled out of politeness to buy some jewellery before they left.
‘What did you choose?’ Max asked Alice, and she reached into the front of her T-shirt and extracted her new purchase – a moonstone pendant on a silver chain. Taking a step forwards, he picked it up for a closer look, and Alice felt his breath on her throat.
‘Pretty,’ he said, glancing sideways at Jamal. ‘Almost as pretty as Zayn from One Direction.’
‘Watch it, Davis,’ his friend replied, and Max laughed easily.
‘I got a ring,’ Maureen said, raising her right hand towards his face. Out of the three girls, Maur had spent the most – £200 on a pink sapphire ring – and it glittered in the sunlight as Max bent to examine it. Alice was not surprised to see her friend take advantage of the situation by slipping her fingers through his, but Max didn’t take the bait. He merely complimented her choice, then squeezed her hand gently before letting it drop.
‘Come on, then,’ said Jamal, who now had his arm around Steph’s waist. ‘Let’s go explore.’
He and Steph led the way along a gravel path towards a large greenhouse, which the sign outside informed them was full of orchids, and they all made their way inside.
‘Ooh!’ Maureen whistled, gazing around in awe. ‘Look at all the colours.’
Alice peered at the peach and red blooms closest to her, and tried to inhale their scent through the thick, moist air. It was even hotter in here than it was outside, and an open pond ahead of her revealed a collection of fat but rather listless koi carp. She took her camera out to take a photo for Richard, knowing he’d be far more interested in the fish than he would the flowers, then turned and looked for Max, watching as he took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. He was undoubtedly feeling the effects of the intense humidity, just like the rest of them, and Alice kept her eyes on him as he strolled towards the exit.
She hesitated, just for a second or two, unable to suppress the thought of Richard and what he would say if he was here, if he could see the way her eyes sought out this stranger again and again. Then she took a deep breath and followed him outside.
19
‘Not an orchid fan?’
Max raised his shoulders in a shrug as Alice let the door shut behind her.
‘Not a huge one – you?’
‘I just get nervous around greenhouses,’ she joked, and he chuckled.
‘Alice the rebel,’ he said lightly, almost wistfully, before adding, ‘It’s a bit hot in there for Mister Tee.’
They both looked down at his right leg. ‘If this gets too sweaty,’ he tapped the socket with a finger, ‘I have to take the leg off and wash my stump, and that’s a faff I could do without.’
‘Oh,’ Alice said.
‘Imagine putting your foot into a plastic bag, then walking around with it on all day, in this heat,’ he told her.
Alice made a face.
‘Yep,’ Max grinned. ‘Pretty gross, right?’
‘I bet you’ve got nothing on my brother,’ Alice told him, gesturing towards the shaded area underneath a nearby tree. ‘Shall we?’
Max nodded and went to follow her.
‘Freddie’s got the smelliest feet in the world – probably the universe,’ she explained.
‘Older brother?’ Max asked. ‘Aren’t they just the worst?’
Alice thought back guiltily to the photos she’d snooped at on Max’s Instagram account. He hadn’t mentioned it yet, but surely he must have seen the notification by now?
‘Freddie used to annoy the hell out of me,’ she admitted, coming to a halt and looking up into the branches above them. She had conditioned herself to always check the trees in Sri Lanka for monkeys, but this one was sadly unoccupied. ‘But we became better friends as we got older. I don’t see anywhere near enough of him now that he’s working in the City.’
‘Me and Ant are the same,’ Max told her. ‘We served together once upon a time, too, but he wasn’t on tour when I was injured. These days he trains the new recruits – poor buggers.’
‘Is the training tough?’ Alice wanted to know, and Max filled her in, telling her in detail about his own experience.
‘It’s bloody hard work, but at the same time it was the best thing I’d ever done, you know?’
Alice thought she understood, and said as much, but Max seemed to have become more pensive as he recounted his early years in the army.
‘I still don’t do so well on my own,’ he admitted. ‘I’m at my happiest in a team situation, so I guess maybe the army institutionalised me in a way.’
‘I prefer being by myself,’ Alice confessed, kicking at the dirt.
‘Why is that?’ Max asked, fixing her with his no-nonsense gaze.
Alice opened her mouth to lie, and found she couldn’t. No words came.
‘Is it because you’re misunderstood?’ Max probed, and Alice flushed in surprise.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I just mean that it’s easier to be alone sometimes, because that’s when you can really be yourself. Trust me, I spent years trying to be this tough army guy, just like my brother, but I couldn’t keep it up. I was always the more sensitive one when we were growing up, but I’ve kept that side of myself very well disguised until … well, now.’
Alice pulled out her hairband and her hair fell around her shoulders. She felt suddenly agitated, as if the midges she could see hovering in the air around them were in fact underneath her skin.
‘I guess I …’ She stopped, unable to articulate what she was feeling. Max touched the back of her hand, just briefly.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to talk about it.’
‘No.’ She shook her head and kicked at the dusty ground. ‘I want to, I just can’t. I don’t know where I would even begin.’
‘Alice?’ Max said gently.
Alice knew that he was looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift her chin. She was afraid that if she did, he would see right through her. His words had got her thinking about her own childhood self. Max had been sensitive, whereas she had been foolhardy. Both had grown up doing their best to push aside that which came naturally, but while he had done so out of a desire to fit in, Alice knew she had followed that path out of fear. Fear and duty. She had always believed that her devil-may-care attitude belonged firmly under lock and key, but what if she had been wrong? What if all this inner turmoil was simply her real self, trying to smash its way back to the surface?
‘I think there’s an adventurous side to you that you try to repress,’ he went on. ‘I could tell how buzzed you were to climb Sigiriya – there was a fire in your eyes.’
Alice shook her head, muted into silence by his observation. There was no point denying it, because he was right. She had been excited.
‘Yo
u know,’ he said, plucking a small leaf off a nearby hedge and rubbing it between his fingers. ‘So many people assume that if I could get in a time machine and go back to that day in Afghanistan – or even back to way before then, when I first joined the army – that I would do so in a heartbeat. I would make different choices and I would still have both my legs. But the thing is, I wouldn’t. I’m proud to have been a soldier, and to have served my country – and for all the pain, there were some great times, too. If life hadn’t unfolded the way that it has, then I wouldn’t be the man I am today. I wouldn’t be here today, under this tree, talking to you.’
Alice gazed at him. ‘You really wouldn’t change anything?’ she asked. ‘Not even the …’
‘Injury?’ he put in, and shook his head. ‘No, not even that. If you’d asked me when I was going through rehab, then maybe, but nowadays I just accept it. It’s not like I have much of a choice in the matter, and like I told you before, I was one of the lucky ones.’
Alice was astounded. She had spent years wishing that someone would turn back the clock and let her live the day of her accident again. More than that, she had yearned for the chance to be reborn without that troublesome streak in her at all. She had always wanted to be someone else.
‘I’m guessing you would get in the time machine,’ Max said, reading her mind, but Alice shook her head.
‘You know what?’ she told him, letting herself meet his eyes for once. ‘Five minutes ago, yes – but now …’ She shrugged helplessly and grinned at him.
Before Max could reply, however, the door to the orchid house opened again and Maureen emerged, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the two of them standing so close together.
‘Hey,’ Alice called quickly, taking an unconscious step away from Max.
‘It was too hot in there,’ she told Maureen when her friend reached them, but Maur merely lifted her eyebrows in a ‘whatever you say’ gesture, then moved in beside Max and threaded her arm firmly through one of his.
One Thousand Stars and You Page 10