One Thousand Stars and You Read online

  ‘Maur!’ Alice snapped, her tone uncharacteristically sharp. ‘Keep your voice down.’

  Maureen had managed to wait until the minibus arrived to blurt out what she was thinking – what, in truth, all three of them had been thinking since Max emerged from his cabin that morning.

  ‘The poor thing,’ Steph whispered, fiddling with her tangled seat belt until it lay flat. Outside the bus, Jamal was talking to Lurch and the small, wiry driver, while Max was hoovering up his breakfast at record speed. Neither seemed to be aware that Alice, Maureen and Steph were gossiping about Max, but Alice still felt guilty that they were.

  ‘Do you think it was an accident?’ Maureen mused, her eyes wide with imagined tragedy. ‘It must have been. Maybe a car crash or something – a roller-coaster collision!’

  ‘I don’t think we should be speculating,’ Alice told them, still speaking as quietly as she could. ‘It’s none of our business.’

  ‘It’s such a shame,’ said Steph, looking genuinely forlorn, and Maureen nodded in agreement. Alice, however, felt herself bristle with irritation.

  ‘Why is it a shame?’ she hissed. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Steph looked at her, taken aback.

  ‘I just mean, he’s such a good-looking guy, and it must have been so devastating for him and his family to—’

  ‘He lost a leg, not his life,’ argued Alice, her spark of genuine anger surprising even her. ‘He’s still exactly the same person we met last night.’

  ‘I bet he’s very different to the person he used to be,’ put in Maureen, who at least had the grace to look slightly sheepish. ‘You can’t go through losing a leg and still be the same person.’

  Alice remembered how the other kids at school used to cast enquiring looks her way in the months that her injury was still healing. They would whisper behind their hands, their eyes full of pity with a trace of disgust. Alice had hated it – had hated every single one of them.

  ‘You’re both forgetting about my face,’ she pointed out. ‘You sound like my mum used to when I was going back and forth to the hospital. She was all full of “you will never be the same after this”, and “this is the worst thing that has ever happened”. She made me feel like a freak.’

  Steph chewed her bottom lip.

  ‘You were never a freak, Alice – but your accident did change you, remember? You were a right tearaway when we were little kids.’

  Alice hated being reminded of her childhood self and she was closer to becoming grumpy than she had been for a long time. The only person she ever really got angry at was herself, so she could understand why her friends were looking at her now with such bewilderment. She couldn’t seem to put a lid on it, though, like she normally would. She was sure Max didn’t need her fighting his battles for him – clearly, he had already been through some – but something in her was pushing her to protect him regardless. Seeing his prosthetic limb had been a shock, of course it had, but that had passed now and all Alice was left with were the same feelings she’d had the previous night. Max had not changed at all in her eyes; he’d merely peeled back a layer of who he was, and as a result Alice felt more connected to him, even though they had yet to utter more than a few words to one another.

  ‘I think I’m just irritable because I need more sleep,’ she said, making sure to sound appropriately contrite. Steph’s expression changed at once from one of wounded child to concerned friend.

  ‘Of course you do, you poor thing. Do you want to see if we can push back this trip by a few hours so you can have a nap?’

  ‘No!’ Alice shook her head rapidly. ‘I mean, please don’t worry. I’ll be fine once we get moving.’

  ‘If you say so,’ replied Steph, but she didn’t look convinced. Maureen was now leaning forwards in her seat to see what was holding up the two men, and before Alice had time to warn her friend off saying anything else inappropriate, Jamal was clambering into the minibus to join them, with Max close on his heels.

  ‘All set?’ Max asked, as he slid the door shut behind him, his gaze roaming across them before settling on Alice.

  She looked at the creases around his eyes that hinted at humour, the new grade of stubble decorating his jaw and the wide, generous mouth, and felt her tension start to ease.

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ she told him.

  The compulsion to stare at the back of Max’s head as they drove along was a strong one, but Alice forced herself to look through the window instead, towards where the colourful and cluttered Sri Lankan landscape was unfolding beyond the glass. It was nearing eight a.m., but every shop they passed seemed not only to be open, but also bustling with people. While it was far less chaotic here in Habarana than it had been down in Colombo, tuk-tuks still hurtled haphazardly in and out of the path of buses and cars, narrowly missing motorbikes piled to dangerous levels with passengers. Alice grinned in surprised delight as she saw an entire family clinging to each other on one – the father steering, his wife sitting pillion, two young girls behind her and a small boy propped up by the handlebars, the top of his dark head tucked under his dad’s chin.

  The roar of traffic mingled with the music coming from the tuk-tuks, each one decorated in a different style. Alice saw lurid pink canopies, golden tassels, painted fire stripes and lime-green quilted seats. The drivers were mostly rake-thin and clad in torn jeans, bright-coloured polo shirts and tatty flip-flops. While there was a lot of noise, shouting and blaring horns, it was all friendly in tone and manner, and after a few miles, Alice stopped cringing every time a bicycle veered too close, or a stray dog strolled out into the road in front of them.

  Jamal was chatting away happily to Steph, who had leaned forward in her seat so she could hear him over the din, her chin resting on her hands, which were right next to his shoulder. They seemed so at ease, the two of them, more like friends who had known each other for years than strangers who had only met the previous day. There was something very open and approachable about Jamal, though. He seemed kind and so comfortable in his own skin – there was nothing fake or contrived about him. Steph deserved to meet someone like that, a man with a positive spirit rather than a nagging bore who would drag her down. She had been out with men like that in the past, her wonderful patience always persuading her to put up with more nonsense than she strictly should, and both Alice and Maureen were forever urging her to go for the sweet guys, rather than the lads.

  The minibus had left the main road now and was heading down a narrow lane edged with vast trees. Alice had not expected Sri Lanka to be as green as this, or as lush, and she savoured the sweet, moist air as it cascaded in through the open windows. Max had propped his elbow up on the inner handle of the door, his fingers splayed to let the wind rush over them and his head resting back against the seat. His hair didn’t have any product in it today, and several strands were sticking straight up on his crown.

  She replayed the conversation they had exchanged the previous night, picking over the words in search of any clues that he might have scattered in about his injury. Alice never had to draw attention to her own scar or drop hints to people she had just met, because it was right there for the world to see. She had long ago grown accustomed to the lingering looks, the raised eyebrows of enquiry, the expressions of pity, intrigue and fascination. She wondered now if Max was used to them too, or if his prosthetic limb was a relatively new addition to his life.

  Perhaps this was the reason why she felt inexplicably drawn to him – maybe a part of her had subconsciously recognised a kindred spirit. She had never met anyone with a scar as big or as prominent as her own, but Max’s injury made hers feel like a splinter in comparison. She thought back to her teenage years, to the tears of frustration she had wept as she tried in vain to disguise the legacy left behind by her old self – that reckless, out-of-control child whom Alice had despised for so long. Now her histrionics felt utterly absurd. What she had been through was nothing compared to Max, yet here he was – chipper and healthy and burst
ing with infectious humour and energy. It was inspiring.

  11

  Sigiriya Rock loomed over the surrounding landscape like the lost child of a mountain range, out of place and sync with its setting, but all the more impressive as a result. At its top was what remained of an ancient fortress, once undoubtedly resplendent, but now a collection of crumbled foundations, worn stairways and dry earth. Foreign visitors and locals alike still made their way up the two hundred metres of rough-cut steps, ladders and walkways in their thousands, though, because the view from the peak was said to be one of the best in the world.

  As Alice gazed up at the summit from the path hundreds of feet below, she already felt humble just to be there. Her guidebook estimated the original build happened between AD 477 and 485, which Alice found unfathomable. It was rare to be this close to a structure so imbued with history, and despite the furious heat of the day, she shivered as she thought about the things that must have happened here, and the tales hidden amongst the cracks in the weathered stone. Whispers of love and fear and death, her whole lifetime a mere pinprick in the fabric of this place and its past.

  ‘Big old girl, isn’t she?’

  Alice turned to find Max right beside her, his eyes focused on the top of Sigiriya Rock.

  ‘Oh, I dunno,’ she looked sideways at him. ‘It’s no Adam’s Peak.’

  ‘True.’ Max looked down at his shoes, then at Alice, as if daring her to point out the obvious – that climbing a mountain wasn’t easy for the able-bodied, let alone him. But if so, he was wrong, because Alice wasn’t thinking that at all; she was merely glowing with the anticipation of what lay ahead.

  ‘Steph’s still on the fence about tackling Adam’s Peak,’ she told him. ‘I haven’t managed to talk her into it yet.’

  Max gestured ahead to where Jamal was walking between Steph and Maureen, a casual arm thrown over each of their shoulders.

  ‘Leave it to Jamal,’ he said, moving to follow them. ‘He can be very persuasive, I assure you.’

  They walked along in companionable silence for a while, Alice watching the strange red dust settle over her brand-new boots and Max ignoring the stares directed his way by the other groups of tourists they passed. To reach the bottom of the Rock, they had to first make their way through the Royal Gardens – a patchwork quilt made up from squares of well-tended lawn, water features and the rustic shells of once-grand pavilions.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ exclaimed Alice, pointing up to where a bright-yellow triangular sign warned of wasp attacks.

  ‘ “Keep still and silent”,’ Max read out. ‘Fat chance of that if you’re being stung half to death.’

  A little way further, another, larger sign featuring an image of a man being chased by insects informed them: ‘Noise may provoke hornet attacks.’

  ‘Thank God I left my trombone at home,’ murmured Max, and Alice giggled.

  ‘You don’t really play the trombone, do you?’ she asked, trying but failing to picture it.

  Max stopped and grinned at her wickedly.

  ‘No – but who’s to say I won’t start? I reckon I’d be great at it.’

  ‘I’m sure you would,’ Alice agreed, humouring him. ‘But if you really want to stir up a hornet’s nest, I suggest the tuba.’

  ‘Or the didgeridoo?’ Max replied.

  ‘Best name for an instrument ever,’ Alice said, laughing.

  Max raised an eyebrow. ‘I always liked the organ, myself. A nice, big organ.’

  ‘Now, now,’ she chided in amusement.

  There was a short moment of awkwardness when they reached the first set of steps, and Alice hesitated, waiting to see if Max would require any assistance.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he assured her, bounding up them at speed, before turning back to face her. ‘Steps I can do – just don’t ask me to cartwheel, for God’s sake. I could never do those, not even when I still had both my legs.’

  ‘Cartwheels are easy!’ Alice insisted, her foot already on the next set of steps. ‘I bet I could teach you.’

  ‘You’re on!’ Max hurried after her. ‘But if anything happens to Mister Tee here, you’ll have to piggyback me right to the top of Adam’s Peak.’

  ‘Mister Tee?’ Alice queried.

  ‘My leg,’ he said, bending over and tapping it with affection. ‘The main man. Tee is short for Teetotal – the opposite of legless, you see?’

  She pulled a face.

  ‘That’s awful!’

  Max laughed easily. ‘Humour is the best medicine,’ he told her. ‘Even if it is really terrible and teeth-itchingly bad humour, like mine.’

  It occurred to Alice then, as she looked up at him, that there hadn’t been nearly enough humour in her own life recently. When was the last time she and Richard had laughed at something together until their sides hurt and tears ran down their cheeks? She could remember doing a lot of that in the early days of their relationship, but along the way they had grown up, and become too serious around each other. Max was absolutely right, though – laughter was the best medicine. Nobody had been laughing in the aftermath of her accident, but Max had clearly found a way to joke about his own. It was a testament to who he was as a person, and convinced her of the presumption she had already made – that her pity was not something he wanted. He probably didn’t want sorrow from anyone at all – but her heart still ached a bit for him then, for his loss and what he must have had to overcome.

  Max, who was still looking at her, seemed to sense what she was feeling, because he dropped his eyes and turned away.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, snapping her out of her melancholy train of thought. ‘If Jamal beats us to the top, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

  Alice led the way towards the next part of the ascent, which was an extremely rickety spiral staircase. Max was much slower on these wobbly, narrow steps than he had been on the wider, stone ones, and Alice kept pausing to wait for him. She didn’t want him to think that she was being patronising by doing so, but she also hated the idea of leaving him behind. When they finally reached the top and caught up with the others, Maureen rushed straight over to greet them.

  ‘There you are!’ she exclaimed, her cheeks pink. ‘You’ll never guess what we’ve found – come and see.’

  ‘I hope it’s not a hornet’s nest,’ muttered Max to Alice, causing her to snort with laughter which a few seconds later turned into a cry of delight, because there, sitting nonchalantly on the top of a wall just ahead of them, was a monkey.

  ‘Oh, look at his little face,’ Alice said, gazing at the creature in awe. The monkey was light brown all over save for its white stomach, and it had a long tail, narrow pink face and black, almond-shaped eyes. In one of its tiny, knobbly hands it clutched a half-eaten corn on the cob, while the other rested on the wall.

  A crowd of overexcited tourists were aiming their cameras at the monkey, but it didn’t seem in the least bit bothered. If anything, Alice thought, it looked rather bored by the whole charade.

  She had never seen a monkey like this before except for in a zoo, and it was so wonderful to see the little mammal out in the wild, knowing that it had chosen to climb up here and hang out with them all. Of course, monkeys like food, and tourists must presumably equal lots of the stuff, but even knowing that didn’t take the sheen off how it felt to be here in front of it. Alice pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and took a tentative photo, doing her best to get as much of the amazing view in the picture as possible.

  Jamal, who was far less cautious, walked boldly over to where the little creature was perched and attempted to get a selfie with it, only for the monkey to scowl at him and scamper off out of reach.

  ‘Must be female,’ he joked, staring after it sadly.

  ‘Oh, stop fishing for compliments, you,’ replied Maureen, and Max gave her a small cheer. A few of the assembled tourists had stopped taking photos of the monkey and were gawping at Max’s prosthetic leg instead. They could at least try not to be so obvious, thought Alice c
rossly, stepping forward so that she was between the curious eyes and Max.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said to the nearest woman in the group. ‘Can you take a photo of me and my friends, please?’

  The woman nodded, and Alice passed over her phone before calling out to the others to bundle together by the wall. The monkey had scarpered now, leaving its part-chewed sweetcorn in the dirt.

  Jamal threw his arms around Alice and Steph, pulling them both against his chest, which left Maureen free to drape herself across Max. As he then wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers brushed Alice’s ribcage, and she was aware of a creeping heat spreading out from below his hand.

  By the time the five of them had done the obligatory cry of ‘cheese’ and Alice had taken back her phone, Maureen had laced her arm through Max’s and was walking away with him towards the next set of steps. Alice’s first thought was to hurry after them, but Steph appeared at her side before she had time to move.

  ‘Will you walk with me?’ she asked. ‘I feel like I’ve barely spoken to you since we landed.’

  There was an odd expression on her face that Alice could not quite read, but which felt loaded all the same. Was her friend concerned that she was spending one-on-one time with Max? Steph should know her better than that. After all, she was the first person Alice would call when she and Richard really did set the date. She had been there through all the ups and downs of Alice’s relationship, had seen her grow up into someone reliable and stable, a girl who no longer took risks. Steph knew her better than anyone.

  As they continued their climb, idle chatter filling the well of unspoken tension that Alice could sense had opened between them, she thought about that fact.

  If Steph had cause to feel uneasy, should Alice be worried, too?

  12

  Max

  If I should die,

  Wash off the dust,

  Clean away blood

  The colour of rust …

  Max found Alice sitting on a low stone wall on the west side of Sigiriya’s summit, her legs dangling over the edge and a faraway look on her face. He remembered what Steph had said the previous evening about her nickname being Alice in Wonderland, and smiled to himself. The others were messing around taking silly photos up at the highest point, the girls shrieking when Jamal pretended to give chase. Maureen had insisted on having her picture taken with just Max, holding her phone at arm’s length and telling him to smile. Not that she needed to. It was hard not to smile around Maureen – she was fun and feisty and full of wonderful energy, not to mention beautiful, and once upon a time Max would have flirted right back just as enthusiastically.