Written in the Stars

by Ali Harris

  ‘I feel like this is where I’m meant to be. I had this terrible urge – a pain that almost felt like a contraction – because I missed my family so much. And you, of course. I have the rest of my life to work, but I won’t get this time back with Holly. Nor will my parents. I want to be nearer home so I can really enjoy my maternity leave, spend it with the people I love. Work understand, they have no choice really. It’s my decision. And what’s the worst that can happen? I get the sack and end up working for another hedge fund . . . or,’ she added, ‘I set up my own company. You know, I’ve been thinking about using my skills and time to invest in something good.’

  ‘Like what?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Milly mused. ‘Charities. I thought maybe I could set up a kind of “Philanthropy in the City” group run by ex-City women, for various good causes. Weirdly, Marion inspired it. I mean, I know she’s a pain in the arse, but she actually does loads for charity and this would be a way of incorporating my skills. Encouraging investors to give a percentage of what they earn on their hedge funds to charity. There are a few companies who do it already but I’m sure there’s room for another . . .’

  ‘It’s a great idea,’ I said. ‘I mean, you’re a natural at helping people. You’ve always been there for me. Plus you’re very persuasive.’

  ‘Is that code for bossy and controlling?’ She laughed and I joined her.

  ‘Sure is.’ I heard Holly gurgle then and suddenly I’d felt something deep within me, an ache, a pang, totally soundless but at the same time louder than anything I’d ever heard. As loud as a ticking clock. I imagined the time ball dropping again. Another sign.

  Adam had suggested we rent our flat out. ‘Then when I get back maybe we can look for a new place, somewhere we both want to live, somewhere with a garden that will be great for, you know . . . starting a family. It will be different, this time,’ Adam had said softly. ‘I promise.’

  I glance back over my shoulder as if sensing his presence. But there’s no one there. A young couple, about my age, are walking down the street, their arms wrapped round each other, and seeing them makes my heart expand. They look so right together. Like nothing could ever break them apart.

  I go inside and get in the lift that will take me to the top floor. I feel like my life is at its highest pinnacle. I’m teetering on the brink of a new world, one that I’m completely ready for.

  As the doors open into the glass sphere that is set into the centre of the roof terrace I can’t help but gasp with pride at how my and James’s vision has been brought to life. Under the convex dome of the glass roof arched trellises form an inner dome and a fragrant floral canopy is woven up them. The flowers that grow on the trellis can be seasonal but for tonight we decided on red, star-shaped cosmos. This was both a nod to James’s Chelsea Garden but also to me because it’s my birth flower. I also like how their red leaves make the glass sphere look even more like the Royal Observatory’s time ball. It was, James says, one of the concepts that had won us our pitch. The glittering night sky is just visible through the flowers now so it looks like stars upon stars – and the roof has been designed to open on sunny days like the petals of a flower.

  I step outside the glass sphere and onto the terrace. People are still running around, checking up on things, and I get caught up in a few last-minute adjustments, electrical problems and a couple of other design issues to deal with. As the decks clear ready for the first guests I look around and realise that everything has come together on time. There are not many things I have been certain of in my life, but for some reason with this I always knew it would.

  On the terrace we have embraced the work/play/day/night themes to create a completely original space that is breathtaking.

  The 2,000 square foot glass walled-space has been lined with trees and planters and in the centre is a ‘Grow your own herb tea and juice bar’. Lemon and orange trees, chilli plants and a herb garden have been sunk into the middle of the beautifully designed brushed concrete bar and there are ten Eames stools either side of it, in front of each one is an iPad dock. The idea being that the agency staff can come here first thing in the morning, pick their own mint for tea, or camomile, or lemon, and make their own breakfast beverage. Underneath the bar is a locked cupboard full of alcohol so in the evenings and for special events it can be transformed into a cocktail bar.

  Uplit silver birch trees and grasses give the effect of living wallpaper. In one corner, in front of the modern terrazzo furniture, there is a contemporary water feature made up of a moss-covered hour glass shape with the front cut back to reveal the Perspex tubes inside where water runs both up and down. It has been designed to remind the staff of the passing of each hour, the toing and froing of time, even when they are relaxing on one of the built-in recliners.

  ‘Pretty impressive, for your first project, Bea.’ James folds his arms as he stands next to me, smiling at a waiter who offers him a glass of champagne. He takes a sip and rests the glass on his elbow.

  I turn and smile at him. ‘I’ve loved every moment, James. Thank you for giving me the opportunity . . .’

  ‘I’m just glad we crossed paths when we did. It’s a shame it’s all over really, isn’t it?’ he says, giving me a sideways look. ‘I’d like to give you more opportunities, you know, take you on as a permanent assistant . . .’ His words hang in the cold, night air like stars.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully after a moment. ‘But I’ve decided I really want to go back to university to finish my degree. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be living in London.’

  I think of my twenty-two-year-old self and how I became paralysed by my mistakes, unable to trust in any of my decisions. Even the right ones. And much as I love this job and it’s been hard knowing I’ll have to leave it behind, it’s country gardens I love and gardens I want to design. It’s time to go back to my roots. ‘I’ve been accepted by UEA in Norwich to do my final year and complete my degree – thanks to this job. I start in September.’

  ‘Not Greenwich?’ he says in surprise and I shake my head.

  ‘They couldn’t fit me in, and besides, I have this real urge to go home. I realise I’ve been fighting it the whole time I’ve lived in London. I’ve been trying to resist the pull back to the wide-open skies and beaches – and, of course, my family . . .’ I smile. The ones who have always been there at every turn. Now I’ve faced up to my past, finally told them about what happened that night on the pier, I can stop running scared. I’m not going to get sucked back to the past. I’m not going to get ill again. I’m not the same person I was before. Life has moved on, I’ve moved on.

  James hugs me and gives me a paternal squeeze. ‘I don’t blame you, it’s a very special place. And at least I’m not losing you until September. I’ll have you for another six months, right?’ He smiles. ‘And you’re welcome to assist me as part of your final-year project. Or look for an office for me in East Anglia,’ he adds teasingly. ‘I’ve wanted to expand the business for a while so I can do bigger, more horticultural, countryside-based projects. It just hasn’t been the right moment till now as I just haven’t known who to do it with. What do you say? It feels like fate, doesn’t it?’

  I nod delightedly as he flicks a switch so the terrace is flooded with warm light just as the first guests come trickling through.

  An hour later and the party is buzzing. Champagne and canapés are whirling around the room in an endless cycle, a hundred guests are moving easily around the space, and I’ve lost count of the amount of compliments James and I have received. He keeps coming up and telling me of yet another corporate company who want us to transform their outdoor space in Soho, Hoxton, Chiswick, Pimlico, Poplar. I’ve chatted to Adam’s old colleagues who have all lavished praise and thanks on me. They can’t hide their surprise that the temp has turned her life around. Most of them have asked if Adam will be coming tonight and I had to tell them that I don’t know.

  I think he will, I feel he will, and I trust my in
stincts. I just don’t know.

  Chapter 70

  Bea Bishop is on top of the world.

  34 likes.

  It’s still dark when I wake up and it takes me a moment to get my bearings. My entire body is encased in the kind of warmth that only comes from having another person spooning you. The weight of Adam’s arm lies across my body like an anchor. That sums up how I’ve felt in the weeks since we got back together in Goa: moored. He nuzzles my neck and I turn over so I’m facing him. His exhales are long and deep which tells me he’s still asleep. He’s always been an easy sleeper and that hasn’t changed, but while I’ve always tossed and turned, now I’m finding myself waking up in the exact same position I fell asleep in. It’s as if even in sleep I know that I’m exactly where I want to be.

  We have been inseparable since that night on the beach but after staying on there together for an extra week to talk about our future, we decided we couldn’t move back to Adam’s flat. Instead we’ve been staying here at Milly’s. It’s convenient for working at the flower shop but we’ve also been going to Loni’s on my days off. I’ve loved showing Adam around the Norfolk coast; he’s been getting to know my home – and my family – better. In all the years we were together, we only went to Loni’s a handful of times. I was too scared of facing up to everything.

  Not any more.

  I look at the clock, see that it is before 5 a.m. and I close my eyes again. But I can hear my brain click into gear, the ticking sound of my thoughts going round in a circle. I haven’t slept past 5 a.m. for weeks despite staying up till the small hours with Adam most nights. It’s like the days aren’t long enough to catch up on the year we’ve lost. We find ourselves going to bed, talking, kissing, laughing, making love and then talking some more. We’re not the same couple we were when we first got together because we are happier individuals than before. It is that which makes this feel like the best possible kind of new relationship. We don’t have that awkwardness that comes with unfamiliarity – the threat of a silence that needs to be filled, the urgent desire to impress which makes you act unlike yourself. But neither are we making any assumptions about each other. We have unearthed our roots, repotted ourselves and are growing together now, instead of apart.

  I lie with my eyes closed for a few minutes, allowing my breath to coincide with the rise and fall of Adam’s, giving me the sensation of floating in water, bobbing over waves. And I find myself, for a moment, being drawn back into the past again like I’ve often been since I took Adam to Cromer and told him the truth about what happened that night on the pier. It’s as if now it’s all out in the open, I’m no longer too scared to remember and each time I cast my mind back, the details come more clearly and I can let go of what happened a little bit more.

  It’s pitch dark, the town is deserted and the rain is lashing down on us, dripping off our bodies. Everything is wet, hair, cheeks, noses, necks, arms, legs, but we don’t care. We are immune to the elements, impervious to the sensation of anything outside of our bodies.

  ‘I NEED MORE!’ Elliot shouts to us above the wind, emptying the last of the vodka from the bottle into his mouth and swallowing it down like a gull devours a fish before throwing the bottle into the sea. He staggers sideways towards Kieran and me who are kissing on the pier, saliva mixing with rain, hands fumbling, our lust fuelled by the elements as much as the alcohol we’ve consumed. Elliot bumps into us as a crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning split the sky above.

  Kieran and I break off reluctantly as he leans over the rail. We watch as he climbs up so that he’s standing on the slippery railings like a tightrope walker. ‘YOU CAN’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!’ he shouts at the sky. ‘I’M INVINCIBLE!’ I lose my breath as I watch him, even though I have seen him pull crazy stunts like this, anything to get a thrill bigger than the last. Elliot doesn’t scare easily.

  I gasp and put my hands over my mouth as there is another clap of thunder. The earth itself seems to shudder and Elliot wobbles precariously on the rail.

  ‘Woah!’ he yells and then he jumps back down onto the pier, laughing and whooping at the top of his voice. Kieran and I look at each other and we roll our eyes parentally and a moment passes between us, this understanding that we’re in the same place. He kisses me gently but Elliot pushes us apart like a kid trying to squeeze in on his parents’ cuddle, thrusting his closed hand in front of our noses and then opening his palm to reveal three small blue pills.

  He looks at us both, his eyes flicking back and forth manically, The Joker-style smile still on his face. He’s off his head. He has been all night.

  ‘Fancy a piece of heaven, guys?’ he says, kissing each pill and looking at us both. ‘Kieran got them, didn’t you, bro?’ Kieran’s eyes flicker apologetically to me and I know that I wasn’t meant to learn this fact.

  Elliot grabs my wrist, prises open my palm and places one in it. Then he tosses one to Kieran, who catches it with ease.

  ‘On the count of three,’ Elliot says, ‘we throw our heads back and swallow, OK? The Three Musketeers, right? All for one and one for all! Ready? One!’

  I watch as Kieran immediately closes his hand over the pill he’s holding. Then he flicks it into the sea.

  I do the same and we take each other’s hand and smile.

  ‘Pussy,’ Elliot spits.

  ‘Call me what you like,’ Kieran says evenly.

  ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ Elliot opens his eyes and gazes at me challengingly with his dark, nettle-green eyes – complete with sting – that tell him apart from his brother. I want so much for him to like me but the closer I get to Kieran – the further I get from Elliot.

  ‘You’re out of order.’ Kieran steps forward and pushes his brother.

  ‘I’m just trying to find her wild side for you, bro, I know how much you love girls like that.’ Elliot looks at me and raises his pierced eyebrow. ‘I’m SURE she must have one! You wouldn’t be with her if not . . .’ He pauses and grins. ‘One, two, three!’ he shouts and he closes his eyes, tips his head and swallows the pill back.

  Adam’s arm moves slightly as if sensing my unrest, his hand sliding up under the covers until it finds my hand, and after a moment he releases it softly as he drifts back to sleep.

  I smile idiotically as Kieran streaks easily across the beach to get more cigarettes and alcohol from his camper van that’s parked a mile or so up the beach front. I don’t need drugs and adrenalin highs to feel on top of the world and nor does Kieran.

  ‘You’re kidding yourself if you think he loves you, you know,’ Elliot says into my ear.

  I step away from him, finding his closeness disconcerting. Feeling more confident in myself than usual, I turn around and smile at him. ‘You couldn’t possibly understand what Kieran and I have.’ I know I sound pious but I can’t help it. I’m drunk on love and high on life. A heady combination.

  Elliot steps closer to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. ‘He’ll break your heart, just like he does with every other girl he’s had.’

  I swallow. It’s been three months and I can’t imagine my life without Kieran any more. I need him. I don’t know what I’d do if he left me – and that scares me. I have a momentary flashback to five years earlier. I’m in my bedroom, Cal is yelling down the phone and talking to me, there’s the sound of the ambulance racing up our drive.

  ‘You know what I think?’ Elliot says. ‘You’re the type of girl that guys always leave . . .’ He laughs suddenly, a wild triumphant hoot, and I feel another part of myself disappear.

  I stare down the beachfront, hoping to see Kieran sprinting out of the darkness to save me but there is nothing.

  ‘I know my brother,’ Elliot continues. ’Blood’s always gonna be thicker than water. He loves adventure, danger, he loves risk, and he’ll soon get bored of playing happy ever after. I know all this because we’re the same, me and him. We’re twins.’ He steps forward and catches my arm. ‘We both want the same thing.’ He takes my other arm and I inhale sharply and tu
rn my face away from his. His breath smells pungent, of smoke and alcohol. I try to pull away as he leans in closer, his lips coming perilously close to mine. ‘And believe me when I say that what we want isn’t a good girl like you.’ He pushes me away and I stagger over to the railings, where he’d stood just minutes before. I look at them and then down into the yawning mouth of the wild, crashing waves and feel certain that I can prove once and for all that I’m enough for Kieran.

  ‘He doesn’t love you,’ Elliot taunts, ‘he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t love you . . .’

  I clamber up quickly, my bare feet supple and hardened from years of running across beaches, toes curled, arches gripping onto the bars like a gymnast on a beam. I look back at Elliot who’s staring up at me in disbelief and – yes – admiration. I smile at him, enjoying my moment in the spotlight, and turn back to face the sea. And then, I make the craziest, most reckless and rebellious decision of my life.

  ‘You think I’m such a good girl, huh? So sensible, so averse to risk?’ I yell. ‘Well, I bet you can’t do this!’ I lean forward and with my eyes closed fall off the side, flatlining into the water like a corpse.

  ‘You jumped first?’ Adam had said in shock as I’d nodded, then with a muffled cry I had covered my face with my hands, wanting to hide again from the shame and sorrow and regret that has, over the years, made me question my whole existence, and constantly question myself.

  One decision, one stupid, thoughtless decision had ended up costing a life. And not even mine. How could I live with myself – and how could I ever trust myself to make a decision again? I didn’t physically push him, no. But I cajoled him. I dared him to do the same.