One Thousand Stars and You

by Isabelle Broom

  As well as being a useful tool, Max’s poetry made him feel like his old self again, the version he had tried to grind down in favour of becoming a tough guy. He had not realised how much he needed that old Max until he got him back again.

  However, at no stage during any of this had it occurred to Max to show his work to anyone. It had always been a very private and personal thing. Today, after all this time and for no other reason than the simple fact that he wanted to share something truly meaningful with her, Alice had become the very first person to find out his secret.

  25

  Alice lifted her chin and squinted up at the twinkling pattern of lights above her. They had been climbing for over two hours now, but the top of Adam’s Peak never seemed to get any closer. After a moderately easy start, the pathway had narrowed and the steps had become steeper, with each one now knee-height or higher. It was still pitch-black everywhere but the few metres ahead of and behind them, and Alice could not tell how far they had come up the mountain, or what was in the undergrowth on either side of the path. One thing was certain, though, and that was that the only way was up. There would be no quitters on this trail – no matter how hard it got.

  Max was still with her, but the last flight of steps had been tough enough to quash their conversation with exhaustion. Alice could feel her knees shaking, and the muscles in her thighs and bottom screamed with fatigue, so she could not even begin to imagine how much tougher it must be for Max. It had only really dawned on her when they were well on their way that he should have brought his crutches with him just in case, and she cursed herself for not having the foresight to ask Maureen to give them back.

  ‘Shall we rest for a bit?’ she said through her gasping breaths, and Max nodded, looking thankful. They had reached a natural stopping point, and found a clear space on a low wall opposite a small wooden refreshment stand. The gentle breeze felt cool and fresh up here, and there was a lingering scent of spices. No sooner had Alice stripped off her hooded top than she needed it back on again to stay warm. Max, meanwhile, was still wearing his grey T-shirt, and she could see a trace of goosebumps on his arms.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ he asked, sniffing the air.

  Alice pointed across the path. ‘Chai tea,’ she said. ‘Do you want one? I brought my purse.’

  Max shook his head. His short hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and he brought a hand up and wiped his brow.

  ‘I might wait until we get higher. There’s bound to be a tea shop near the summit.’

  ‘Can you see the others?’ Alice asked then, peering downwards into the shadows. Every now and again, another head or two would emerge through the darkness, as more people struggled up the mountain.

  ‘Not yet.’ Max shrugged off his rucksack and lifted his feet to let a stray dog wander past. Alice had been surprised to see so many of them at first, but now she’d grown used to it. She imagined there would be monkeys, too, hiding out of sight in the surrounding trees. She was sure that she’d heard one an hour or so ago. It felt as if they were in their own little world up here, so far removed from their everyday lives.

  She shivered, and Max leaned his body against hers for warmth. He felt solid and real and comforting, and she pressed herself back into him, all the while listening to her heart as it beat loudly in protest.

  ‘Do you mind sitting here for a bit longer?’ Max asked, unzipping his bag and taking out a large bottle of water.

  ‘Of course not.’ She shook her head and checked the time. ‘We still have at least an hour and a half until the sun comes up.’

  ‘I think I need to give my little fella a wash,’ he said, and Alice blushed.

  ‘Your who?’ she exclaimed, and Max looked momentarily puzzled.

  ‘Oh, no! I don’t mean that kind of little fella. Not that he’s little, or unwashed.’

  Alice put her hands over her ears. ‘Stop!’ she cried, closing her eyes. ‘I get it!’

  Max laughed as he bent down to roll up his right trouser leg.

  ‘I’ll try not to be offended by that reaction,’ he joked, bending over again and easing down what looked like a long sock. Alice heard a click, and then Mister Tee was off and in Max’s hands.

  ‘Do you want to hold him for me?’ he asked, and Alice nodded without hesitation, holding out her hands as if he was about to pass her a baby.

  ‘Wow, he’s really heavy,’ she said, wobbling on the wall as she repositioned the leg in her arms.

  ‘He has to be,’ Max said. ‘He’s supposed to be the same weight as my real leg would have been. That way my central nervous system has a better chance of getting used to him.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ said Alice, turning the leg around so she could examine it in more detail. Any awkwardness she had felt when she first caught sight of Max’s prosthetic leg days ago had long since passed, and now she was genuinely interested to find out more about it. She watched as Max removed another white wool sock, laying it over his shoulder, before finally easing off the last part of the prosthetic by rolling it neatly over his knee.

  ‘This is the liner,’ he explained, holding it up. ‘It’s a bit sweaty, though, so don’t get too close. Remember what I told you about the plastic bag?’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me twice,’ Alice assured him, hugging Mister Tee tightly against her chest. The bottom of Max’s trainer was covered in the strange red dust of the path, and it had wiped off all over her leggings.

  ‘Shit,’ Max swore as he realised, pausing with the water bottle in his hands. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s only dirt,’ she said, nonplussed. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  Alice found that she couldn’t stop looking at his stump, which Max had elevated so it pointed straight out in front of them. Several people who had also stopped to catch their breath were staring, too, and one old woman even gasped in surprise.

  ‘Nice scar, isn’t it?’ said Max, pointing so that Alice could see. The neatly puckered line ran all the way along the bottom of his stump and up either side.

  ‘It’s the shape of a smile – much better than mine,’ she said, and he grinned.

  ‘I draw eyes and a nose on it sometimes to make my niece laugh,’ he admitted, lowering the leg again and dousing it with water.

  ‘Don’t you need soap?’ Alice wanted to know, but Max shook his head.

  ‘Nah, it irritates the skin. Plain water is the best thing, but I forgot a towel, so I’ll have to let it air-dry for a bit.’

  ‘Does it still feel weird?’ she asked when he had finished washing. The few climbers who had stopped to gawp were now sitting on the wall next to them, sipping chai tea and pretending not to stare.

  Max ran his hands over the stump as he considered her question. ‘Sometimes,’ he allowed. ‘Learning to drive with it was weird, and finding out how I could …’ He stopped, coughing with what sounded like embarrassment.

  ‘What?’ Alice asked, even though she could sense where he was going.

  Max brought his head down until it was close to hers and whispered.

  ‘Have sex.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Alice’s cheeks burned with mortification.

  ‘It can get a bit hairy,’ he added. ‘When the girl on top gets carried away. It’s not always possible to balance.’

  ‘And the driving?’ she said firmly, changing the conversation before she fell off the wall.

  Max laughed, delighting in her bashfulness.

  ‘I can show you,’ he said. ‘Give me that.’

  Alice handed back Mister Tee, and Max propped it carefully against the wall.

  ‘Now bend your right knee and sit on your foot – that’s it. Sit hard on your foot until it starts going numb.’

  Alice did as she was told, trying not to think about the red dust that would now be all over her bottom.

  ‘OK, now imagine that you’re at the wheel of a car.’

  Alice held up her hands and gripped an imaginary steering wheel.

  ‘Right, now accele
rate.’

  Alice looked at him, then down at her bent knee. The lower part of her leg was still pinned underneath her bottom.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, feeling stupid.

  ‘That’s because you’re using your eyes,’ he said. ‘Close them and try again.’

  Alice couldn’t see how it would make any difference, but she shut her eyes anyway and tried to imagine her foot pressing down on the pedal, how the vibrations would feel against the bottom of her shoe.

  ‘Can you feel it?’ Max said, his voice low in her ear.

  Alice smiled. ‘I can. I think I get it!’

  When she opened her eyes again, Max was looking at her so intently that Alice found she couldn’t meet his gaze.

  ‘Of course you do,’ he told her. ‘And I think you get me, too.’

  Alice opened her mouth to reply, to tell him that he was right, that he could see in her what she never showed to anyone – not even the people who meant the most to her – but her words were lost as Jamal and Steph clambered up the steps below them and cheered.

  ‘About time,’ Max teased, rolling his liner back over his stump so quickly that Alice didn’t even see in which order the socks went. ‘I got so bored waiting that I took my leg off.’

  ‘Attention seeker,’ countered Jamal, who bizarrely didn’t even seem to be out of breath.

  Steph could only mouth uselessly, she was that knackered, and Jamal plucked Max’s water bottle off the wall and gave what was left of it to his ailing partner-in-climb.

  ‘Drink up, beautiful,’ he said sweetly. ‘There’s a long way to go yet.’

  Max met Alice’s eye before standing up with renewed energy.

  ‘Bloody physios,’ he told the girls. ‘Slave drivers, the lot of them.’

  ‘I think I might die,’ panted Steph, her cheeks obviously pink even in the darkness. Alice remembered Max’s tale about Senura the Sri Lankan waiter, and how his eighty-six-year-old gran scaled this beast of a rock every year.

  ‘Come on, birthday girl.’ She offered Steph an arm, hoping as she did so that her friend would be far too tired to probe her about her alone-time with Max. ‘Last one to the top of the next flight has to buy the other a tea.’

  She turned to begin a count of three, but Max and Jamal had already scarpered, leaping up the huge steps as if they were mere cracks in a pavement.

  ‘Why wasn’t it me that fell off that bloody train?’ wailed Steph, as the two of them watched the boys disappear in a cloud of dust, but she managed to crack a smile nonetheless.

  ‘That’s fate for you,’ Alice replied, taking a deep breath as they tackled the first step. Had it been fate that had led them here to Sri Lanka? Put them in that homestay in Habarana at the same time as Max and Jamal? Had fate thrown Maureen off the train so she couldn’t be here with them on this mountain? Had fate planted the bomb that robbed Max of his leg? There were some things that happened in life which nobody could control. But there were also, Alice realised, gritting her teeth as her thighs burned in protest, decisions that you were in charge of, actions that you chose to make, and feelings that you allowed yourself to develop.

  The way she was beginning to feel when she was with Max could not be blamed on fate – the truth was as hard and as undeniable as the ground beneath her feet. But what she chose to do with those feelings could affect the fate of so many others.

  26

  Max

  If I should die,

  Let it be said,

  He fought with his heart,

  Stood strong, never fled …

  Max lowered himself down gingerly until he was sitting beside Alice on the step. The summit of Adam’s Peak was now just a stone’s throw from where they were, packed in amongst all the other people who had made their pilgrimage on this Poya Day. Steph and Jamal were lower down, having waited a bit longer in the relative warmth of the mountain’s highest tea shack, which was at the base of the steps. When they had all staggered up half an hour ago, a beaming Sri Lankan man in earmuffs and a quilted jacket had given them each a high five and announced that there were ‘only three hundred and sixty-five steps to go’.

  ‘Only!’ Alice had repeated in mock glee, and Max had laughed despite the pain in his leg. It was difficult not to think about it constantly now, but Alice being here was helping. She turned to him now, a look of enquiry on her face.

  ‘Tell me more about your poems,’ she prompted, wrapping her arms around her raised knees. ‘Are they all about your time in the army?’

  Max frowned. ‘Most of them, yeah. And, if I’m honest, they’re all a bit depressing, too.’ He attempted a laugh, and Alice jabbed him gently with her elbow.

  ‘I bet they’re not as depressing as you think,’ she said. ‘Maybe they’re just sad. There is a difference, I think.’

  Max thought about his sadness, about how confused he had been when he began writing his poems, and how afraid. The concept of death had become so real to him while he was still serving, and it made him want to lash out – to kick and scream and hold fast to the frame of his bed at Camp Bastion, so as not to be put in harm’s way again and again. But there was no room for cowardice in the Armed Forces; you just had to crack on and get the job done – even if that job turned out to be dying.

  ‘Well, I suppose sad is better than cheesy,’ he allowed. ‘The last thing I want is to be corny. There is nothing romantic about war. If your lenses are at all tinted, it’s from the blood of your fallen comrades, not roses.’

  ‘Now that really is poetic,’ Alice said, and Max chuckled in appreciation.

  ‘Clearly, I don’t know my own talents.’

  ‘Have you written any poems about Sri Lanka yet?’ she asked him now, her eyes flickering away from his and towards the deep navy curtain of sky above them.

  Max looked up, felt her shoulder warm against his own.

  ‘Not yet,’ he replied. ‘But if ever a view was going to inspire me …’

  ‘I’ve never seen so many stars before,’ she said. ‘It’s like we’re on a different planet.’

  Max took a moment to absorb the view.

  ‘What were the skies like in Afghanistan?’ Alice asked, clamping her teeth together in a contrite grimace as soon as he looked at her. ‘Sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it. Forget I asked.’

  But Max looked amused. ‘You apologise too much,’ he informed her. ‘And I’m happy to talk about it – especially with you. The thing is,’ he said, ‘Afghanistan is a beautiful country.’

  Alice pulled a disbelieving expression, and Max nodded. ‘Honestly! It gets a bad rep, for obvious reasons – and OK, there were times when it did feel bleak and barren – but there were other times when I appreciated it. I can remember sitting outside the mess tent in Camp Bastion, drinking a brew and watching two birds playing in the dust. All these terrible things were happening all around them, but those two little souls were totally sheltered from it all. It reminded me that even in the darkest of corners, there’s always light – there’s always hope.’

  Alice nodded. She appeared to have been struck into silence by the thought.

  ‘When we would go out on missions,’ Max continued, ‘sometimes we’d be stationed in the arse-end of nowhere, with just the distant ridges of the mountains and the stars to keep us company. The dust was always up, and it made everything appear sepia, like a photo taken in another century or something. I loved it and I hated it, and it scared me and exhilarated me, all at the same time.’

  He paused, aware that he had begun to ramble.

  ‘You must think I’m talking nonsense,’ he said.

  Alice sat up straighter. ‘Don’t be daft,’ she told him. ‘We’re human beings, not robots, so of course we’re capable of feeling a plethora of emotions all at the same time. I know I do.’

  Max wanted to ask her for an example, but Alice was looking up at the sky again.

  ‘How many stars do you think there are up there?’ she asked after a few moments, her voice low.

/>   ‘Let’s see.’ Max lifted his finger and pretended to count. ‘At least a thousand.’

  ‘One thousand stars,’ she breathed, her words almost a poem on their own, mesmeric as they were. It felt to Max as if they were alone up on this mountain, in a bubble of their own making, where it was safe and always would be.

  ‘And you,’ he said, smiling as she turned to face him.

  ‘And me what?’ she asked, her expression open.

  What could he say? That he felt as if she was the only thing that mattered to him right now, just her, on this step, beneath those stars? Of course he couldn’t.

  ‘I’m just glad that you’re here,’ he said instead, trying to convey through his eyes what he was incapable, suddenly, of saying with words. Max thought that whatever he chose to say in a moment like this would be wrong, either inappropriate or simply banal.

  While he was still chasing this conundrum around in his mind, Alice put her hand tentatively over his.

  ‘I’m glad that you’re here, too.’

  They stayed where they were and watched as the sky turned from the deepest blueberry to the faintest azure. As the night lifted, the landscape began to emerge below them. Max could see the tips of smaller mountains and the tops of distant trees, each mysterious shape revealing itself inch by slow inch, with the morning mist hanging over the view like finely spun silver. At exactly six-thirty a.m., the throbbing red line of dawn appeared on the horizon, chased up by the sun, and shafts of brilliant light raced across the wild terrain to greet them.

  Behind them, up on the summit, bells began to ring, and there was a collective sigh of joy as everyone stood to watch the sun rise. Bunting strips of colourful Buddhist flags fluttered and snapped in the wind above them, the sound adding a tender percussion to the ethereal bells and the whispered messages of love that Max could hear being exchanged.