One Thousand Stars and You

by Isabelle Broom

  The engines rumbled beneath them and the propellers whirred into action. Alice drew air into her lungs, watching wide-eyed through the tiny oval window as the prop plane gathered speed and then took off into the blue. She gripped Max’s hand a notch tighter, and he returned the pressure in kind. Again, Alice imagined the two of them in a bubble, untouched and untouchable by the mundane realities that they each faced back at home. This was their time up here – their world. She all at once never wanted the moment to end.

  ‘OK?’ said a voice in her ear – Diyon. Alice nodded, and he tapped her lightly on the shoulder. ‘You see up there, the light?’ he asked, pointing to a red bulb above the closed hatch.

  ‘Yes.’ Alice’s heart was racing.

  ‘When it goes green, he will go,’ he said, gesturing towards Max. ‘Then we wait for a minute or two, and we will go after.’

  ‘OK.’

  Alice’s jaw was beginning to ache from smiling, but her knees were trembling. Again she pushed her palm against Max’s, and again he returned it with a squeeze. An image of Richard flashed into her mind, his glasses on the end of his nose as he read something aloud to her from one of the weekend papers – a book review, perhaps, or a recipe for sweet potato curry. He seemed so far away from her now, like a memory rather than someone who should be the most present person in her life – the man she was going to marry.

  The light turned green.

  ‘I’ll see you on the other side,’ Max called out, letting go of her hand as his tandem master pushed them both forwards. Another man, who was clipped to the wall of the plane, had hoisted open the hatch door, and cold air rushed in.

  ‘Wait!’ Alice went to say, but any sound she made was whipped from her lips by the wind. Max turned back to look at her, just once, winking as he arched his back and looked up towards the roof of the plane. Then suddenly, as if a hole had opened up in the space around them, Max and his partner fell forwards into the emptiness and were gone.

  ‘Shit!’ Alice shouted, elation mingling with terror as she watched the light go from green back to red. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’

  ‘You say shit!’ Diyon said, chuckling as the plane soared higher. He carefully lowered Alice’s goggles over her eyes and tightened the strap, tucking the end of it under her cap behind her ear, where it dug in. The pain made her feel more alive, somehow, her anxiety now a hive full of agitated bees. Any moment now, she thought, I will burst. There will be bits of me all over this plane.

  The light turned green again.

  ‘Ready, Alice?’ Diyon checked, pushing her gently forwards until her feet were poking out of the hatch. ‘Now, make your body into a banana.’

  Alice bent backwards as she had been instructed on the ground, tucking her feet on a strut outside the plane and grasping the straps on either side of her chest. She felt a tug somewhere in the small of her back, and then she was out, tearing through the air and watching the plane diminish rapidly above her.

  Opening her mouth to scream, Alice almost choked as it filled immediately with air. Wind ripped past her ears, and she looked down to where the landscape was spread out below her like a patchwork quilt. The mountains looked tiny, the trees mere matchsticks, and a wave of dizzying realisation swept through her. She was really doing this. It was really happening and there was no going back now.

  Diyon tapped both her shoulders to signal that she should lift her arms out to the side, and Alice let go of the harness and folded herself open, a smile anchoring itself yet again on her face as the world danced and rippled around her. She looked down again, hoping to see Max, but there was nothing below them save for the smudge of fields and forests, and a tinsel-line of river snaking out from beneath the treeline.

  She felt another tap, this time just on one shoulder, and sensed Diyon move behind her. There was another hard tug from the harness around her legs and chest, then Alice felt herself soar upwards as the parachute opened. Almost immediately, the roar of rushing air ceased, and Alice laughed out loud. On and on she laughed, gazing all around them as Diyon used his handles to steer them from side to side, pointing out the white tips of faraway temples and the spot on the horizon where the Indian Ocean lapped at the shore. Alice had never experienced a sensation so liberating, or so exhilarating, and now that the dangerous portion of the initial jump was over, she found that there was an incredible sense of peace up here. The only sound now came from the rhythmic flapping of the open parachute high above them, and the occasional comments she and Diyon were exchanging. She could remember so acutely how it had felt to climb and explore as a child, how untethered she had been to fear, or guilt. Before the accident had stolen that innocence away and replaced it with fragility, she had been free. The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she was glad when Diyon lifted her goggles away and pointed towards the ground.

  ‘Look there,’ he said. ‘Your boyfriend is waiting for you.’

  He meant Max, of course, but Alice did not have the heart, or the inclination, to correct him. Max was still wearing his red jumpsuit, but he’d pulled off his cap and goggles. Alice could tell even from here that his hair was sticking up in all directions, and that he was smiling. A great, big, proud and happy smile, and he was directing it at her.

  As the field rushed up to greet them, Alice lifted her legs and let out a comedic whoop as her bottom bounced off the ground. As soon as Diyon had unclipped himself from her harness, she allowed herself to lie down on the grass, her limbs splayed out sideways like wings.

  ‘Oh my God!’ she breathed, beaming up at him. ‘That was … Oh my God!’

  She sat up to find Max walking in her direction, his smile still fixed in place, and before she could talk herself out of it, Alice was on her feet and running his way, her arms ready to be thrown around him. At the last minute, she jumped up and wrapped both her legs around his waist, clinging to him like her life depended on it.

  Max, who had stumbled on impact but managed to stay upright, tightened his arms around her body and pulled her against him. For a few seconds, they simply embraced, both lost in the moment as their hearts beat against each other’s chests. Alice pulled back first, but only so she could look him in the eye – she wanted him to feel how happy she was; she wanted to show him how much this had meant to her, how it had reminded her of who she was, and of the person she now knew she was happy becoming. She wanted him to know all of it, but how could she even begin to put it into words?

  Max waited, his blue eyes so kind and so sincere. Alice opened her mouth, determined that she must say something, but her words were swallowed as Max’s lips pressed gently against her own.

  38

  Max

  If I should live,

  Let my heart find love.

  Seek out the one

  For whom I am enough …

  Max brought his arm up and folded it behind his head, his elbow creating a makeshift pillow in the cocoon-like shape of the hammock. He had taken off his prosthetic leg to shower, and used his crutches to travel the short distance from the treehouse bathroom to the wooden-floored veranda at its front. Despite his indifference towards the beach earlier in their trip, he was glad they were here now. Just the sight of the gently lapping turquoise water when they arrived a few hours ago had soothed him, while the warm salty air stirred up memories of childhood holidays spent digging in the sand around the south coast of England, he and his brother Ant doing their best to create a better castle than any of the other kids.

  Ant had always been military-minded, insisting on tall battlements and a deep moat around their creations, and Max would habitually rebel by patting a drawbridge into place, and poking holes in the structure to make doorways and windows. A castle, to Max, should be a home full of people going about their lives, while Ant saw it as a fortress, put there to protect only an important few.

  Tangalle had not been included on their original itinerary, but Jamal had been keen to spend an extra few days with Steph. Plus, his friend pointed out matter-of-factly, the coa
st would be the perfect place for Max to rest his leg before the long journey home at the weekend. Max looked down at his stump, frowning as he examined the inflamed area around the puckered edges of his scar. He had put on a good show at the skydiving centre that morning, convincing Alice and almost himself that the discomfort in his leg was receding when it was, in fact, getting steadily worse.

  He probed the swollen flesh now with his forefinger and winced, sucking air through his teeth as a dart of pain shot up his thigh and into his lower back. This was not good. Nothing about this was good. A bead of sweat trickled down from his hairline to his jaw, and Max flicked it away, irritated suddenly by the humidity. Why did it have to be so goddamn hot here? He felt as if the heat would drown him sometimes.

  He groaned and let go of his stump. Being in a hammock reminded him unavoidably of Afghanistan, although in contrast to Sri Lanka, the air over there had been acrid and dusty, the scent carried on the wind metallic. Some of the lads had strung the rope beds up inside the large tents at Camp Bastion, preferring to sleep even higher off the ground than the bunks would allow. Monstrous camel spiders were a very real fear, as were scorpions, and discarded boots, helmets and bits of kit had to be shaken out in the mornings to make sure nothing had crept in and set up home while their owners slept. There had been something inherently comforting about the rocking motion of a hammock out there, Max recalled, lowering his left leg to the ground to steady the swinging. Perhaps that was really why so many of the men favoured them – it helped them feel as if they were being swaddled and soothed to sleep, just like they would have been as babies. And if ever there was a place where a person needed to be comforted, it was Afghanistan.

  Max heard a distant door creaking open, and lifted his head until he could see out and across the sand to the next treehouse along. The Cinnabar Resort where they were staying was set just back from the beach, close enough that guests could see and hear the Indian Ocean from every room. The accommodation was made up of a combination of wooden cabanas and tall, thatched structures – he and his friends had opted for the latter. Each one had a different name, which had been carved neatly into a wooden plaque and hung at the top of the rustic steps. Max and Jamal were staying in Wood House, while Alice, Maureen and Steph were in Palm House. He had thought that all three girls were already down in the beachside bar with Jamal to watch the sunset, but clearly not. Alice had stayed behind.

  Max watched from his hidden position in the hammock as she wandered to the edge of the adjacent veranda, her hair wet and slicked back into a low ponytail and a towel in her hands, which she shook out and hung over the outer wall to dry. She was wearing a simple blue sundress with a halter-neck strap, and Max could just make out the faint white marks on each of her shoulders where her vest top had blocked the sun. His heart swelled, as it always did when he watched her, and he resisted the urge to call across and get her attention.

  It had been so nice having her all to himself that morning, and treating her to an experience that he knew she would never forget. What had begun as an inkling of a wild soul buried somewhere deep inside had bloomed in the time Max had spent with Alice, and the skydive that morning had only confirmed it. Alice was a risk-taker, she had an adventurous soul, and he had seen – hell, he had felt – just how alive she had been after jumping out of that plane. When she had leaped off the ground and into his arms, kissing her had felt like the most natural and right thing in the world, but afterwards she had gone quiet. Not in a rude or even an embarrassed way, just contemplative, as if she was trying her best to work out the answer to a tricky riddle in her head.

  Despite this, Max knew the experience had brought the two of them closer. When Alice had refused the chance to have her skydive filmed, or to have any photos taken, he had known that she was planning to keep the whole thing a secret – from her boyfriend and parents at least. How sad, he thought now, that the two of them felt duty-bound not to share such exciting moments with the people closest to them. At least they could talk about it together – it was done now, and could never be undone.

  They had spent much of the taxi journey down to Tangalle in companionable silence, Alice occasionally turning her head to smile at him, her cheeks still rose-tinted with exhilaration, while Max struggled to keep his game face despite the throbbing pain in his stump. He knew time was ticking now, and that soon he would not be able to ignore what was happening inside that leg, but he wanted to wait until he was home and could see his own doctor. It was only a few days, he thought – if he could just keep whatever this was at bay for a little while longer.

  Max was still contemplating this as he watched Alice go back inside the cabin, only to re-emerge less than a minute later armed with a small bag and her camera. She was going to join the others in the bar area, and Max waited until she was down the treehouse steps and halfway across the wooden stepping stone path below before reaching for his crutches.

  What he should do was stay here – rock himself into a lull in this hammock and allow his stump to recover. The thought of putting Mister Tee back on made his jaw tighten with dread, but he did not want to go down to the bar without it, either. It was difficult using the crutches on the soft, thick sand – and anyway, Jamal would know as soon as he saw him that something was still going on. Max twisted his elastic band around his wrist, cursing as it snagged on the fine hairs.

  He didn’t see that he had much choice.

  ‘There he is!’

  Maureen called out a greeting to Max as he made his slow way towards them through the tables, doing his best not to limp on his sore leg. The beach bar was rustic in style, with driftwood furniture and an abundance of candles. Two puppies of unspecified breed wrestled in the sand beside a stack of giant Jenga, and he could hear the ocean as it swished and rumbled just out of sight.

  ‘The man of the hour,’ Maureen said sweetly, using her bare foot to push out the empty chair next to her own.

  Max lowered himself rather gingerly into it, feeling sweat dapple his back. It seemed to be growing warmer the later it got today. He had hoped it would be cooler by the coast.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, looking round at each of them and catching Alice’s eye. ‘Why am I the man of the hour – surely that accolade belongs to the birthday girl?’

  ‘I’m not a man,’ Alice reminded him, and Steph giggled.

  ‘You’re the man that treated her to a skydive, though,’ Maur said, the edge in her voice unmistakeable. Max chose not to rise to the bait.

  ‘What did you lot get up to today?’ he asked, and Steph immediately started telling him about their kayaking trip to the nearby lagoon.

  ‘We saw an eagle catch a fish out of the water, right in front of us,’ she said. ‘It was amazing!’

  Max smiled, accepting a beer from Jamal, who had nipped to the bar and back. ‘Sounds it.’

  He glanced up again to gauge Alice’s reaction, but she was staring down at her phone, concern etching grooves across her forehead.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked after a minute, cutting right across Steph’s story about holding a baby crocodile.

  Alice looked up, distracted.

  ‘Is it Dickie?’ said Maureen, snatching up her own bottle of Lion Lager.

  Alice shook her head, starting to say something, but Maureen talked over her.

  ‘Didn’t Alice tell you?’ she asked, her attention back on Max. ‘I thought she would have, given that you spent all day together.’

  ‘I don’t really think that—’ Steph began, but there was no stopping Maureen. Max wanted to hear what she had to say now, too, and looked at her with encouragement.

  ‘Tell me what?’ he said, watching a deep flush spread across Alice’s cheeks.

  ‘About the engagement,’ Maureen continued, as if it was the most obvious revelation in the world. ‘Dickie’s bought the ring and everything – he sent her a photo of it last night. Show him, Alice. It really is rather sweet. I didn’t think Dickie had it in him.’

  Jam
al coughed awkwardly as Max gazed across at Alice. He thought back to the events of that morning, to their conversation in the car about their aspirations to escape their boring jobs, to how she had gripped his hand as that plane took off and how she had jumped into his arms with delight once they were back on the ground, accepting his kiss without hesitation. Not once had she mentioned a ring, nor for a moment had she acted like a girl who had just got engaged.

  Although Max had no right, and although he knew he was being far too sensitive, Maureen’s words stung. It hurt to hear that Alice belonged to someone else, even though he had known it almost as soon as they had met. She had not tried to conceal the fact that Richard existed, but she had not brought him up willingly in conversation, either. Max accepted that he had – perhaps rather foolishly, as it transpired – taken those small observations and built them up in his mind until he was almost convinced that Alice’s relationship with her boyfriend was not a very serious one. When Richard was simply the boyfriend she barely mentioned and openly kept secrets from, the extent of her feelings towards him had been an unknown quantity, as far as Max was concerned. Now, however, this engagement ring had landed smack-thud in the middle of his hopes.

  ‘I was just …’ Alice lowered her phone into her lap. She wouldn’t meet Max’s eyes, and looked almost stunned, as if she had been slapped. When her mobile then started ringing a split second later, they all jumped.

  Alice snatched it up.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, her voice soft but laboured. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I was—What? What do you mean? What about Freddie? What’s happened?’

  Max saw Maureen and Steph exchange a look.

  ‘She was telling me just now that she was worried about Freddie,’ Steph hissed. ‘He still hasn’t replied to her text from a few days ago, or sent her a birthday message.’