One Thousand Stars and You

by Isabelle Broom

  ‘Has something happened?’ Richard continued, when it became clear that Alice was not going to say more than five coherent words.

  How could she even begin to answer that? Yes, something had happened – so many things had happened. Deciding which one to begin with was the reason she had become suddenly inarticulate.

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, taking off her sunglasses and folding in the arms. ‘This is hard. I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Alice, what the hell is going on?’ Richard sounded fed up now, but also fearful, and Alice waited a moment, breathing hard to halt her tears.

  ‘I …’ she began, staring at the throbbing semi-circle of red sun on the horizon. ‘I don’t think I can marry you, Rich.’

  There was a silence, during which Alice tried not to picture the look of bewildered hurt that her boyfriend must now have on his face.

  ‘Right …’ he replied eventually. ‘And are you going to tell me why?’

  ‘Because I would be doing it for the wrong reasons,’ she said, hearing the emotion in her own voice. It was so hard to do this, to hurt him when for so long, she had done everything she could to make him happy. But now that she was staring down the barrel of a future with Rich, she knew that it was not the right one – and it wasn’t because she had met and connected with someone else; it was simply because she needed to accept who she was – really was – and that person was not ever going to be happy becoming Richard’s wife. Alice hated that she had to be so brutal to do the right thing, but she also knew that she must.

  ‘Surely, the reason to get married is just to be happy?’ Rich argued. ‘Are you saying that you’re unhappy?’

  Alice chewed her bottom lip.

  ‘Yes.’

  Richard sighed at this, but did not reply straight away. Alice could feel tension mounting in her shoulders and causing her arms to stiffen. The need to get up and release the awful anxiety – run away both literally and figuratively from this horrible situation – was almost overwhelming, but she forced herself to stay where she was. She needed to see this through, even if it was difficult – even if the easy option would be to take it all back and pretend to Rich that she had been pulling a terrible prank on him.

  ‘Since when?’ he demanded. ‘How long have you been feeling like this, and why?’

  Alice considered the question, not wanting to tell him the truth but also knowing that she needed to do so. Rich had done nothing wrong – he deserved her honesty at the very least.

  ‘I think we’ve been content to just, you know, pootle along,’ she said, and he sniffed in annoyance. ‘You know what I mean,’ she pleaded. ‘You have to admit, it has felt as if we’re going through the motions lately. When was the last time we laughed together? Or did anything together that wasn’t dinner with my parents or yours? Everything feels like it’s stagnated, Rich, and I know I should have said something to you earlier, but I guess I didn’t dare. I kept hoping that I would wake up one day and feel differently, but it hasn’t happened.’

  Rich didn’t answer, and Alice clutched her phone against her ear, waiting. She knew she was pushing him now, trying to convince him that he was as unsatisfied as she was, purely because it would make things easier. The truth was, she hadn’t considered until now that he, too, might be genuinely disillusioned with the state of their relationship, and that perhaps the reason he was so keen for the two of them to get married was because he hoped it would act like a refresh button on their feelings towards one another.

  ‘Does anything that I’m saying make sense?’ she asked him now.

  ‘I’m still trying to make sense of it,’ he snapped, and then added, ‘Is this all Maureen’s doing? Has she been filling your head with nonsense? I knew it was a bad idea for you to spend too much time with her – she’s never liked me.’

  ‘This has got nothing to do with Maur!’ Alice exclaimed. ‘And she does like you – she always has. This is one hundred per cent to do with me, and how I feel. The thing is, Rich, I have worked something out while I’ve been here.’

  ‘Oh, here we go,’ he said, and Alice clenched her teeth.

  ‘When you sent me that photo of the ring, I should have been over the moon, but I wasn’t. It just made me feel sad and guilty, because I realised it wasn’t what I wanted.’ And it was true, too – she hadn’t felt much of anything. When she thought about the elation that had surged through her when Max surprised her with the skydive, it was impossible not to compare the two.

  ‘Well, we don’t have to get married,’ Rich said hurriedly, his tone all of a sudden placatory. Alice steeled herself against the predictable wobble that ricocheted through her. Rich was not unhappy; he wanted to save their relationship and was willing to compromise to keep her – did that mean she was making the wrong decision after all?

  ‘If that’s the problem,’ Rich went on, ‘then let’s wait another year. We couldn’t have done it this summer, anyway, not with your brother … Well, you know.’

  ‘That’s another thing,’ Alice said, her resolve hardening once again as she seized on the mention of Freddie. ‘If I go ahead and marry you, then it would be a lie. I think Freddie has been living in a lie for years, and look where he’s ended up. I won’t let that happen to me, or to you.’

  ‘Oh, charming!’ Rich said furiously. ‘You think being married to me would turn you into an alcoholic? Thanks, Alice. Thanks a lot.’

  ‘I just think we want different things,’ she explained. ‘And it’s all my fault, because I didn’t ever let myself tell you what I wanted before. I told myself that we wanted all the same things, because it was easier that way. It made you happy, it made my mum happy – I thought that was enough to make me happy.’

  ‘Well,’ Rich interrupted. ‘What do you want, Alice? Why can’t you tell me now?’

  Alice cast her mind back to that open train door, Max by her side as forests and mountains flashed by, the half-smile on his lips as he asked her that very same question.

  ‘I want adventure,’ she said softly, her heart racing with nerves as she properly opened up to him for the first time in as long as she could remember. She wanted Rich to know her – really know her – and part of her even hoped that he would care enough to cheer her ambitions and champion her dreams.

  ‘I want to travel the world,’ she went on fervently. ‘I want to dance on beaches and swim in the ocean and bungee off bridges and—’

  The sound of Richard’s laughter pulled her up short.

  ‘You are funny,’ he said.

  ‘I mean it,’ she told him. ‘I’m not trying to be funny here, I’m telling you what I want.’

  ‘This is all just talk, Alice. Once you’re back home with me and your family, you’ll forget about all of this. I know you, remember? I know how timid you are. There is no way you would bungee off the sofa, let alone a bridge.’

  ‘I did a skydive,’ she informed him.

  Richard stopped laughing abruptly.

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘I jumped out of a plane,’ she said. ‘And do you know what? I loved it. It was the best and most exciting thing I have ever done – and I didn’t hesitate. I wanted to do it.’

  ‘You could have been killed!’ he exploded. ‘Did you not think about me? Or your mum?’

  It was Alice’s turn to sigh then. She looked again towards the sun. It was almost gone now; there was only a sliver of red visible.

  ‘I probably should have done,’ she allowed. ‘But I didn’t – not until afterwards. The news about Freddie threw me a bit, and I felt bloody terrible about the skydive then, if you must know. But then I remembered how alive it had made me feel – and how happy.’

  ‘Who did you do it with?’ Rich wanted to know, and Alice furrowed her brow in annoyance at his attempt to derail the conversation.

  ‘I can’t see Steph jumping out of a plane somehow,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘And Maureen would probably be too worried about messing up her hair.’

  Alice chose not to ris
e to his childish sniping. He was angry; he was allowed to throw a bit of scorn around. Maureen had predicted his reaction, too, telling Alice as they ate lunch earlier that day that Richard would inevitably blame her.

  ‘I did it with a friend,’ she said, and she heard him huff in infuriation.

  ‘So, that’s it? You’ve met someone over there, have you? One of those blokes in the photos. You’ve had a sordid little holiday romance and now you think you’re a different person. Well, I hope it was worth it, Alice, I really do, because it’s going to take a bit more than a kiss-and-make-up to put this right.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Rich,’ she said gently, closing her eyes as a warm evening breeze blew strands of hair across her face. He was angry with her, that much was apparent and totally understandable – but she felt no animosity towards him. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

  ‘I did meet someone on this trip,’ she told him calmly. ‘I met me. The real me. The me that I’ve been hiding since my accident because I was so scared of getting hurt again, of hurting anyone else. But I can’t pretend any more. Not for you, not for my mum. It’s my life.’

  Richard made a noise that told Alice he was less than impressed.

  ‘It’s not about you,’ she said. ‘This is all me – and I’m sorry that I’ve changed into a different person, but wouldn’t you rather be with someone who wasn’t having to pretend?’

  Richard cleared his throat.

  ‘So, you’re saying you don’t even want to try?’ he asked. ‘After everything? All we’ve been through and all the plans we’ve made for the future.’

  ‘For your future,’ she amended matter-of-factly, her tone soft. ‘I was only ever tagging along with your dreams.’

  ‘I still love you,’ he said then, his voice cracking just as Alice felt her heart do the same.

  ‘I love you, too, Rich,’ she said. ‘Just not in the way that I should, or the way that I want to. You deserve to be with someone who loves you because of who you are, not in spite of the differences the two of you may have. Our love has been back-to-front from the start.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’ he said, and Alice knew that he was crying now. Should she have done this face-to-face? Once she had made up her mind, it had felt vital that she make the break – she did not want to draw it out any more than she had to, and she had wanted to capitalise on the courage that arrived along with her determination. She was conscious of Rich’s feelings, too. It wasn’t fair that he be kept in the dark when she had seen the light.

  ‘I’m going to stay with my parents for a bit,’ she said, by way of reply. ‘I’ll keep sharing the rent, of course, until you decide what to do.’

  ‘This can’t be it,’ he mumbled, his voice broken by the emotion he was trying his best to disguise. ‘This can’t be the end.’

  ‘I am sorry, Rich. I truly am,’ Alice said, smiling despite the tears that had begun to course down her cheeks. ‘But this is not the end at all – it’s the start of a new beginning.’

  51

  ‘You have done what?’

  Marianne Brockley gaped at Alice in horror.

  ‘Broken up with Richard,’ Alice said again, her voice steady. She was standing in the front porch of her parents’ house in Sudbury, her rucksack on her back and a bunch of daffodils in her hand, which she now thrust towards her mother.

  ‘These are for you,’ she said, and stepped around her into the hallway. ‘Is Freddie home yet?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but …’ her mum began, following Alice into the kitchen. Freddie was propped up on a stool by the breakfast bar, eating a bowl of cornflakes, and Alice went straight across and hugged him, pressing her face against his bony shoulder. He had lost so much weight since the last time she had seen him back in February, and she was afraid he might break under the strength of her embrace.

  ‘I’m sorry it took me so long to be here,’ she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his T-shirt. Freddie leaned back until he could look at her properly.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he said, his eyes shining. ‘I only got out of the rehab centre yesterday afternoon. But I’m glad you’re here now.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said, relief that he was all right rippling through her. Aside from the dramatic drop in weight and a slight shake in his hand as he picked up his cereal spoon, Freddie still looked like her brother. She could tell from the mischievous glint in his eye that his sense of humour was still intact, and the way in which he regarded her with such easy affection was wonderfully Fred-like. Over the past few days, Alice had allowed herself to go to hell and back by wondering what state he would be in when she got home, but seeing him had allayed her fears. This was Freddie, her brave big brother – he would be OK, and so would she.

  Alice looked round to where her mum was waiting, arms folded across her chest. She looked neither angry nor upset, which surprised Alice. She had steeled herself for a row as soon as she broke the news about Richard – perhaps even tears – but her mum was not saying anything at all. It was more than a little unnerving.

  ‘Mum,’ said Freddie. ‘Weren’t you saying something about putting the kettle on before this one turned up? That is, unless you’re sick of tea after being in Sri Lanka?’ he added, glancing at Alice.

  She nodded. ‘Tea would be great, thanks, Mum.’

  Marianne Brockley walked stiffly to the kettle and switched it on, and Freddie raised his eyebrows at Alice as she silently readied their cups on the worktop.

  As much as Alice hated the circumstances that had brought her brother home, she was glad he was here. Freddie had always had her back, been in her corner, and she had a feeling that in a moment or two she was going to need him more than ever before.

  ‘So.’ Marianne put a mug of tea down on the counter in front of Alice. ‘Come on, then – out with it.’

  Alice took a deep breath, and then she told them how she had called Richard from Sri Lanka to end things, how she had done so because she was not happy and did not see a way to be happy with him, and finished by asking if it was all right for her to move back home – albeit temporarily. The words all came out in a rush, Alice keen to expel them before she lost her nerve, and as she spoke, she looked not at her mum but at her brother. Freddie nodded along as she told her story, his expression grave enough to make it clear that he appreciated how serious this all was, but not so severe that Alice felt concerned about his reaction. He was just as she had expected him to be – understanding and supportive. But when it came to her mother, Alice’s expectations were markedly different – and quite rightly, too.

  ‘And you just decided this, did you?’ her mum demanded, making Alice wince. The anger she had anticipated was flowing out of Marianne like venom.

  ‘It just occurred to you one day that you were miserable? I mean, for God’s sake, Alice. Poor Richard. I wouldn’t blame him if he never took you back.’

  ‘I don’t want him to take me back,’ Alice said patiently.

  Freddie had abandoned his cornflakes and was now sipping his tea, a thoughtful expression on his gaunt face.

  ‘I think it’s great,’ he said, and both Alice and her mum turned to him in amazement.

  ‘What?’ he said. ‘You know I love Dickie – he’s a good bloke. But Alice always looks so on edge when she’s around him, like she’s a jack-in-the-box waiting to pop. You must have noticed it, Mum?’

  ‘I have noticed no such thing,’ Alice’s mum said primly.

  ‘Freds is right,’ Alice said, wading back in to the uncomfortable discussion. ‘I feel like I’m about to explode most of the time. Sometimes I get so anxious that I go to the water meadows and run and run until I can barely breathe, or I go to the pool and dive off the highest board, just so I can let some tension out.’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, Alice.’ Marianne Brockley was seriously unimpressed. ‘You’re not a child any more.’

  ‘No, I know!’ Alice put down her tea. ‘That’s the whole point, Mum – I’m not a child, so I can do those th
ings without hurting myself. I had an accident – once – I can’t live every day like I’m going to have another one.’

  ‘You don’t know what it was like for me!’ her mother cried, and Alice braced herself. She had been expecting this, and she had her answer ready.

  ‘I do know,’ she said. ‘I was there, remember. And so was Freddie. All our lives changed that day. We were all affected by it, by my mistake. I have had to live with that ever since, and the guilt of it, and all the worry, it turned me into someone I don’t even recognise as me – a person who only exists to make everyone else happy. But I’m not happy, Mum. Not with Richard and not in my job and not even in my own skin.’

  Her mum’s eyes were wide now, her cheeks flushed with dismay.

  ‘I just think,’ Alice went on, ‘that if I let myself do more of the things I want to do – that I need to do – then I won’t have all this anxiety nibbling away at me constantly. It’s not like I’m going to tightrope-walk over the Grand Canyon or train to be an astronaut; I’m just talking about travelling a bit more, and having some more adventures.’

  ‘I just want you to be safe,’ her mum muttered. ‘All I have ever wanted is for both of you to be safe. You were always such a handful growing up, Alice. I didn’t know what to do with all that energy you had – and then you had your accident and got that dreadful scar and I blamed myself. I should have been better at controlling you. If I had, you would never have been up on that stupid roof in the first place.’

  She took a breath, her own rhetoric exhausting her.

  ‘Do you know how hard it is to see your child in pain?’ she asked.

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘Well, I can tell you, there is nothing worse – nothing in the world. I made a promise to myself that day in the hospital that I would never let you hurt yourself again, even if it meant keeping you under house arrest. I couldn’t stand all that pain, Alice, I just couldn’t.’