Under a Starry Sky: A perfectly feel-good and uplifting story of second chances to escape with this summer 2020!

by Laura Kemp

  Ra-Ra and Rik Wilson-Smyth, North London

  Campsite Visitors’ Book

  There were so many ‘get well’ cards on Mam’s hospital cabinet, Wanda felt like she was walking into a branch of Clintons.

  ‘She’s just powdering her nose,’ Elsie said from the opposite bed.

  ‘How is she?’ Wanda asked conspiratorially, to see how it would tally with Mam’s version, who had claimed to her daughters several times she was fine and dandy despite a temperature and swelling.

  ‘Much brighter today.’

  Talk of the devil, Mam slowly entered the ward – with a stick! Lately, she had been taken everywhere in a wheelchair, she was so poorly.

  ‘You’re up and about!’ Wanda cried, overjoyed to see her out of a nightie, in a comfy pair of cotton trousers and blouse and with some colour in her cheeks.

  ‘No more bedpan for me!’ Mam cackled, cuddling into Wanda. ‘I’m proud of you, you know.’

  ‘Me? What have I done?’ Wanda stepped back, feeling unworthy. ‘You should be proud of yourself. Look at you!’

  ‘If I keep this up,’ Mam said, reversing into a chair and patting the one next to her for Wanda, ‘the physio says I’ll be kicked out soon. They want to make sure I’m fully mobile before I go.’

  ‘It’s so good to see you doing so well. How’s the pain?’ Wanda popped a clean set of clothes into the cabinet drawer, then joined her.

  ‘Bearable with the drugs. And I’ve started my exercises. The stairs, though, they’re a bit of a killer. Can you believe it’s been three weeks I’ve been here? Most people come in for a week at most. But your mam? She has to make a performance out of it.’ She rolled her eyes at herself. ‘Anyway, back to you. I can’t wait to see the campsite!’

  ‘Don’t get too excited. But yes, it’s a hell of a lot better than it was …’ That came out the wrong way. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, I just mean—’

  ‘Oh, I know it was in a state, I just didn’t realise how bad it’d got. Funnily enough, this has been a bit of a life-changer, all this spare time and being forced to think a lot … I was sinking, I couldn’t see it, but I suppose … I was lonely.’

  ‘You? Look at all these cards! You’ve so many friends.’

  ‘Indeed, but … being alone, without Dad, it still gets to me every now and again. I lost interest in everything: I was going through the motions, but not very well!’

  ‘Oh, Mam, I wish you’d said, or I’d noticed.’

  ‘Not your job to mother your mother,’ she said sternly. ‘Now, though, I can’t wait to get back to it all. And to see the shepherd’s hut! Did you find out who was behind it?’

  ‘Not yet. No one’s owned up to it.’ There was one person she hadn’t asked, but it was impossible to think they would be responsible.

  ‘Well, it’s a lovely little mystery, isn’t it?’ She gave a wistful smile. ‘Oh, Wanda, what I’d give to be in my own bed, in my own kitchen, pottering in the garden! But there’s so much to be excited about: the babies for a start, your travels, and, so a little bird tells me, you talking to Annie again. Well done.’

  ‘Blod been on the blower, has she?’ But she didn’t mind, because Wanda’s wobbles had been kept from her mother, such was the kindness of the community. ‘Yes, me and Annie are talking again, which is lovely. I mean, like you, I’ve lots of friends, but I’d always missed her. Obviously it’s early days, but …’

  ‘What about Lew?’ Mam said evenly. She definitely hadn’t heard about the scene at the Smoke-Out – she’d have been all over it if she’d been tipped off.

  ‘I haven’t really had a chance to speak to him.’ Shout at him, yes. ‘It’s on my to-do list.’

  The tinkle of cups and saucers gave her an out and Mam was content to share tea and gossip for a while before her eyes grew heavy.

  ‘Carys will be up later,’ she said, gathering Mam’s washing and some thank-you cards to post, but her mother had already dropped off.

  Back home, Wanda was delighted to deliver some good news for a change to her sister. Carys repaid the courtesy, having just booked in a couple of groups of campers for the weekend. And there wasn’t a suggestion of hipster beard about them! Social media influencers Ra-Ra and Rik had turned up late last night with their first-world problem of flat juice packs and had asked if there was a clean-eating restaurant nearby. The thought of them made her giggle: imagine planning to go off-grid in one breath while asking if they could charge up their phones in another.

  ‘Our followers are expecting an Insta story – you know, a ‘this is our final contact with the outside world for two days’ update, namaste hands emoji, hashtag free yourself,’ Ra-Ra had cried.

  She’d told them they were in luck: she could put them up, plug them in and give them some cawl made with veggies so fresh they’d taste the fox poo.

  Lew would find that funny, she thought. She’d tried to find him to apologise this week but wherever she went she’d just missed him. With a couple of hours spare now, she set off, determined to do this properly. No wailing, no throwing herself at his mercy, just a sincere apology, a thank you for his help and hopefully that would start the process of crossing the chasm between them. Just as Annie and she had resolved things, so they would too, surely? Because their bond was even deeper.

  Turning right out of the campsite, she went up the lane and as it curved she got her first glimpse of The Bunkhouse, set against a bright blue sky. The tumbledown crumbling stone walls had been restored, the roof was shiny with slate and a big barn door, thrown wide open, gave it a homely, welcoming look. A few cars were parked up on the bank of grass beside the building and there were two men fiddling with carabiners and ropes and a woman testing a climbing harness. No one had said he’d officially opened; perhaps they were just test-running the place? She peeked inside, impressed at the mix of rustic bare brick and modern steel. A cork board to her left listed sunrise and sunset times, weather forecasts, mountain path routes and emergency details. A sign for ‘sleep’ pointed up the stairs, another directed ‘drying room’ towards the back. A man and a woman were sat at a huge canteen-style table in the kitchen area.

  ‘Hi! Is Lew around, do you know?’ she called out.

  ‘On an abseiling recce. Can I help?’ the woman said in a burr she didn’t recognise.

  ‘Know whereabouts?’ Wanda asked.

  ‘Up the mountain.’

  Well, of course he would be. Wanda hadn’t been up there since before the fire and it was the last place she wanted to go. Excuses tapped her on the shoulder: she was in the wrong shoes and what if the weather suddenly turned. But she had to do this. It was part of her rehabilitation. She eyed up the hillside, her guts in knots, and reminded herself it had been where she’d spent happy times with Lew, hanging out, sharing cans, lying flat on their backs at the top, watching the clouds scud along seemingly almost within their fingertips’ reach.

  It was a hard trail, especially if he was where she thought he’d be – in a small cave to the right of the slope which overlooked the lake. That was the only place where you could abseil from. She weighed it up: it would take half an hour to get there. If not now, when? Just do it, she said to herself; get it over with – think of the view, think of him. So she took the shrubby line which led to a stile, went through the woodland, and began the ascent, wishing she’d brought some water. She knew to take her fleece off in the bowl of hill which was protected from the breeze and to put it back on when she climbed the stones which took her onto a ridge that would lead her to Lew. Past the landmarks they’d given names, like Frog Rock, and White Water Point where the stream bubbled up. Meanwhile, the old mental battle of the climb returned: thoughts of this is too hard, turn back versus the quiet, the red kites at eye level and the sudden drop of land which gave a view down to the campsite. It really was an incredible sight, an ocean of beige and green undulations stretching out for miles
without a sign of civilisation. She stopped a few times to catch her breath and, on each occasion, she was more blown away by the size of the sky, which became vaster the higher she went. Finally, she saw a figure by the cave, deep in concentration as he flew a buzzing spider-shaped drone in to land.

  Wanda went slowly closer until he registered she was there and her heart leapt as their eyes met. It was more than nerves, it was something awakening deep inside her, an energy only he could generate.

  ‘Hey,’ she said through strands of hair dancing in the wind as she reached him.

  He sat back on a rock, watching her with eyes the colour of soft spring ferns in the sunshine, fitting in as if he was part of the landscape.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, his face neutral, giving her room to speak.

  ‘I’ve come to say sorry for blowing my top the other night.’ Despite her inner tremble, her voice was calm and clear.

  He nodded a few times.

  ‘I was out of order. I should never have gone off on one at Annie or you. Things have been hard, but that’s not an acceptable reason to—’

  ‘It’s done. Don’t beat yourself up about it.’

  Lew turned his face to the view. And Wanda shifted uncertainly on her feet. Was that it? Was that all he was going to say? All that he was going to give her? Realistically, what else could she expect. But emotionally, it fell way short, considering their history.

  He’d drawn a close to this moment, she could tell, but there was still another matter to bring up.

  ‘Lew,’ she said, feeling ridiculous, but no one else had claimed it as their own work, ‘about the shepherd’s hut … was it you?’

  ‘It was just a lick of paint, no biggie.’ He shrugged and then messed up his dark chocolate waves, just like he used to when he was embarrassed.

  She gasped – and grasped at it as if it was a piece of straw. As if it had more meaning. As if he was admitting that there was something between them, a kiss that they’d almost shared. ‘But why?’

  Lew recovered himself and crossed his arms. ‘For your dad. For your mam to come home to.’

  But not for her. She swallowed back her self-pity. ‘Well, it looks amazing. Thank you. Mam is chuffed to bits. When did you do it?’

  ‘Early morning. I don’t sleep much,’ he said, giving her a small sad smile, which she took as a way in. He fiddled in his pocked and threw her the key to the hut, which she clutched to her heart.

  ‘I suppose you’re on call a lot too with the mountain rescue. Plus The Bunkhouse, lots going on for you … I didn’t realise you’d be running it yourself …’

  But her invitation to him to open up fell flat.

  ‘When are you leaving then?’ he said, and she could hear hope in his voice.

  Slightly stung, she said, ‘Soon. Once the campsite is earning again. When Mam is well enough to take over.’

  ‘Won’t be long.’

  It sounded like he couldn’t wait. It sounded like he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. She kicked at the scrub and decided she should wrap this up. Lew wanted to keep a distance, it was obvious.

  ‘I mean, it all happened quite quickly with The Bunkhouse when everything was in place.’

  Wanda was confused – did he want her to stay now? ‘Is it open then? There were some people there when I called in.’

  ‘Not properly, they’re my mates from Norfolk, they’ve come up to give it a go, see if I’ve forgotten anything. So far, they reckon it’s all good. Can’t be bad, though, when you’ve got this as your back garden, can it? I mean, Norfolk is amazing for the space, that endless horizon, but you can’t beat this.’

  ‘Is that why you came back then?’ she ventured.

  ‘Kind of.’ He reached down to the brown earth with his fingers to feel the land beneath him. ‘It’s hiraeth, isn’t it?’

  He actually smiled at her then and it was like clouds parting. Hiraeth, the word people used up and down Wales to describe a sort of homesickness, a yearning and a love for the nation.

  ‘I dunno, I’ve never been away, have I?’ she said, daring for the first time to relax. ‘So what’s with the drone then?’

  ‘I’m taking aerial footage for the website. Little videos here and there, to show it all off.’ He looked excited, like a kid, especially with those freckles, which would be running riot on his cheeks by September, just popping now.

  ‘Very modern! It’s a bit ironic, using the latest technology to lure in the tourists who want a get-away-from-it-all holiday. I had a pair of them last night. Two London types, double-barrelled, they were, rocked up because their off-grid retreat had been cancelled after the wifi went down.’

  He laughed out loud and it made her insides swoop and fly. Emboldened, she went on.

  ‘They came up, asking if anywhere did breakfast. I offered a bit of toast and they actually had a chat right in front of me about whether it was ethical that they ate something made using the mains electricity! I said, “I’ll build a fire if you like, toast it like that!”, and the bloke, Rik, he said it was a nice gesture but he was also concerned about global warming. So over a dippy egg and toast, they gave me a lecture about the benefits of living wild, being self-sufficient and connecting to the land, and there they were, sat on their arses eating food cooked for them and bought from Blod’s Shop!’

  ‘Brilliant! We used to get a few like that coming to survival days, absolute tools! Mind you, they were better than the Rambos who wanted to skin rabbits.’

  Wanda shuddered. Then she had a lightbulb moment. ‘There’s a whole untapped market out there for quirky camping! That’s what we could do! It’s not “huge frame orange seventies’ tents” anymore, is it? It’s become a “thing”, that idea of stripping life back, away from the screens and stresses of twenty-first-century living.’

  Lew studied her through those thick lashes which she used to say were nicked from next door’s herd of cows and she felt hot and shivery.

  ‘You’re spot on, I reckon.’ He opened his mouth, shut it again, then decided to go for it. ‘Look, I don’t know if you want to but I’m doing an open house so people can have a tour of The Bunkhouse. Come along if you like? Share your ideas?’

  It was a total breakthrough! The horses in her heart were on their hind legs, rearing to go, but she had to pull on the reins.

  ‘Yeah, possibly. I’ll have to check,’ she said, as casually as she could. ‘Wow, coming up here has given me some inspiration! Retro camping with a Welsh vibe! That’s what we’ll do. We could use the shepherd’s hut, put a bed in, stick in a stove …’

  His eyes lit up and she felt the warmth of their glow. The years of uncertainty and waiting, the angry words last week, they’d been worth it to get back to this. It felt like a new start rather than a resolution to the whys and wherefores of fifteen years ago, but that was more than she’d expected. And she wasn’t going to let this moment be ruined. She got up to leave on a high, feeling like she’d slayed a couple of dragons.

  ‘Sounds great!’ Lew said. ‘Won’t take much to get it going.’

  Wanda grinned and waved goodbye. The mountain had looked after her! Lew was back in her life. She began her descent, taking care not to rush. But Lew wasn’t done.

  ‘The sooner you get the campsite finished, Wanda,’ he called to her, ‘the sooner you can go.’

  Her foot slipped on some loose stones but her stomach had lurched before that. It was the second time he’d mentioned her leaving. Despite what she’d hoped, despite what she’d felt in her bones, he was making it quite clear how he felt: he’d be civil, but that was all.

  13

  The open evening had been one long ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ as Lew showed people round The Bunkhouse.

  Gobaith had turned up in its droves to have a nosey, opening cupboards to admire matching cups and plates and, once they’d necked enough prosecco, trying out the beds.
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  The stragglers gone, a few remained and Lew had invited them to stay for food. Annie was among them and feeling part of the gang. She’d arrived with a hand-picked bunch of wildflowers, she hadn’t the cash spare for a fancy bouquet, but Lew had made her feel important by placing them centre stage on the long wooden table.

  A wolf whistle made everyone turn when Lew appeared in an apron which made him look stark naked and otherwise engaged with a sheep.

  ‘New girlfriend?’ Annie asked him.

  ‘Leaving do from the Norfolk lot.’ He rolled his eyes at the cliché. ‘But don’t worry, I gave as good as I got with them, plenty of jokes about Alan Partridge and Bernard Matthews!’

  ‘Please tell me that delicious smell isn’t in fact Turkey Twizzlers?’

  Lew guffawed with a ‘Wait and see!’ and again he’d made her feel extra special. In fact, the rest did too, especially Spike, who had given Annie a big cwtch when he’d arrived. Did this mean he wasn’t judging her after hearing about her past outside the community hall? Or maybe he was sticking by her because he didn’t know anyone else. She didn’t care – he was a breath of fresh air, as well as smelling like it. She knew only too well that after a day of sweating, grafters went overboard on the soap. Arthur was here too but was attached to his phone, earbuds in, blocking out the world. Annie could hardly believe she was here and included in the bosom of this beautiful stone building which embraced the very best of the village. Blod was gassing on with Pastor Pete while Sara from the gift shop was deep in conversation with Bowen, the education guy from the fire service. Best of all, Wanda was here, chatting away to Alis from Coffee on the Corner and Carys. Annie didn’t know exactly what had happened between Wanda and Lew, only that they’d had a chat. Lew said he was doing it for everyone’s benefit, he didn’t want an atmosphere but Annie wondered if there was more to it. She’d caught him watching Wanda every now and again; then there was his revamp of the shepherd’s hut – surely an old affection remained? But he insisted he just wanted the best for Gobaith, starting with The Bunkhouse.