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

by Laura Kemp

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Go on then, I’ll get the stuff together. Then we could take a walk with Teg? Fancy it, Annie? It’s a nice night, we could pop in the pub for a swift one.’

  ‘There’s a meeting in the Travellers’ Rest tonight, seven p.m., ideas for the disco.’

  ‘Oh yes! It’s Friday, isn’t it? I forgot it was tonight.’

  ‘We could show our faces.’ She had thought about going. Even though she had become a part of the village again, she still had the age-old insecurity and reservations about turning up alone. ‘Arthur, you could help with the playlist – we don’t want it to be all old fogey music, do we?’

  Right on cue, Spike got up and did some truly cringey dad dancing as he opened the cutlery drawer and the broom cupboard to find a hat, gloves and scarf.

  ‘Oh my God, stop!’ Arthur said, but his face was lit up with amusement as Teg picked up on the happiness and began to bound around Spike, her tail wagging and her tongue out.

  Annie began to laugh and laugh, great big bellyfuls, going weak-kneed as she fought for breath. It wasn’t just the sight of chocolate that gave her a buzz.

  This, here in a kitchen with a father, son and dog, was sheer joy: what other people called domestic bliss. It was her first taste of it in a long, long time, perhaps ever in her grown-up life. This, she realised, if ever she dared to dream, would be what she’d wish for.

  22

  A wonderful stay in the shepherd’s hut – it was the height of hut couture! Apologies for the misunderstanding. We misread the blurb ‘perfect for naturalists’ as ‘perfect for naturists’.

  Derek and Sheila Fleming, Reading

  Campsite Visitors’ Book

  She was going to do it, she was going to do it. She was really going to do it.

  Wanda chanted her tub-thumping mantra as she went up the high street on a mission to buy everything she needed for guests to light – and more importantly put out – the fires she was finally allowing from tonight.

  Lew had volunteered to be with her, knowing she was as nervous as a sausage about to be put on the barbecue. The after-school half-term dash would be underway later as families arrived from all over for anything from a couple of nights to a seven-night stay. It was the same story over the weekend too and then there’d be campers coming and going all week. Every space was booked, motorhomes too, and the bell tent and shepherd’s hut were a real draw for the ‘too posh to pitch’ set. Plus the caravan was going live! What a hit Dilys was! Since they’d revamped it and put photos on the website, Instagram and Facebook, Wanda had had record inquiries, attracted by the white bright space with retro kitchen and framed images of seventies and eighties icons such as Freddie Mercury, Madonna and George Michael. Carys had donated her smart speaker so people could get in the mood with tunes from back in the day and Mam had done a great job stitching covers and cushions with floral emblems and stripes.

  It would be the first real test for Under A Starry Sky – and Wanda was ready. Well, almost. She needed to pop into Fork Handles for skewers, sand, kindling and logs. But first, she would pick up her order from Gobaith Gifts of branded brown paper bags stamped with the moon and stars which would make up the welcome packs stuffed with marshmallows and hot chocolate sachets from Blod’s. Undeniably, campfires were part of the experience, she had to face up to it. And while the weather was forecast to be dry, it could still get nippy of an evening. Complaints about a ban on what was part and parcel of tent life would be a killer for the business. There was nothing to worry about, she told herself, she’d bought the safest fire pits going and had dotted them around the place on level patio blocks, away from overhanging branches. Each would have a watering can of water and a bucket of sand beside them and there were plenty of extinguisher points around the site.

  The door tinkled as Wanda went in to the gift shop. There was no sign of Sara, just Nisha, whom Wanda had known since she was knee-high through the girl’s father Amir at Keep Calm and Curry On.

  ‘Hi, lovely! Where’s that boss of yours?’ Wanda asked. ‘Skiving off?’

  Nisha looked shifty. ‘Er … she’ll be five minutes, she said. Running late.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll pop to Coffee on the Corner, then I’ll be back. Want anything?’

  ‘No, ta. I’ll tell her you’ve been looking for her. Make it ten minutes, actually, she’s tied up, she said. Well, not tied up literally, but you know …’

  Wanda gave her a funny look. What was she on about? An espresso would make things clearer, so she left, but paused to look up at the windows of her flat. How she missed her own space. It was nice living with Mam and Carys, but sometimes she wanted to be alone on her own sofa. The curtains were closed – poor Bowen had probably been on call again.

  On she went, to the corner, getting a coffee from Alis, who was working on the official flyer for the disco. She picked up her sheet of A4 and held it up for Wanda’s opinion. It was amazing! Blod’s idea had been picked as the theme; in bright bubble letters, it said: Blast from the Past, Midsummer Night, 21 June, fancy dress, a fiver includes first drink and all profits to the fire service.

  ‘I thought I’d do cutting and pasting for real,’ she said, pointing out the images of jivers, mods, hippies, glam rockers, punks, New Romantics and hip-hoppers which she’d stuck on with Pritt Stick. ‘I wanted it to look authentic, with an old feel to it. Phil the Pill has a colour printer thing so he’ll sort that, then a bunch of us can post them up, in the shops or in our cars. I’m thinking of going as Elvis.’ She certainly had the hair for it – thick, black and short so she could easily quiff it up. ‘Blod says she’s got a white jumpsuit with gold fringing.’

  Of course she’d have a spare one hanging about!

  ‘What about you?’ Alis asked her.

  ‘No idea! I need a think!’

  ‘While you’re here, I’m wondering if you’d have a think about something else, too. You know my dad’s old ice-cream van?’ Wanda smiled, remembering the nursery-rhyme jingle and the taste of a Mr Whippy on a hot afternoon. Alis’s dad would always give her a flake for free, too. ‘It’s just a thought, it’s still in the garage at theirs, sitting there doing nothing. I could do a breakfast run at yours of a weekend. I’d pay you a cut, obviously, they’re your customers after all. My husband reckons it’d be easy to install a griddle. He can hold the fort here while I come up.’

  ‘I love it! You could do afternoon teas for tired trekkers too!’

  ‘Yes! I’ve got my food hygiene certificates already so it’d be just a question of converting the van.’

  It would be another string to the campsite’s bow. ‘Perfect. Let me know when you’re ready to start.’

  It was sunny outside, so Wanda decided to sit at a bistro table and wait for Sara to arrive. As she took her first sip, she almost choked when she saw a woman with a hood up coming out of Bowen’s. Oh God, he’d clearly been shagging her in Wanda’s bed! She hoped he had some Vanish. She’d have to get a new mattress when she moved back in.

  Then a gust of wind exposed the woman’s blonde head, and Wanda saw that it was Sara. Sara had been doing it on Wanda’s bed in Wanda’s flat! No wonder Nisha looked uncomfortable.

  ‘SARA!’ she shouted, running up to her. ‘Please tell me you haven’t been at it on my kitchen worktop!’

  Sara inhaled and Wanda knew her so well, she could read her mind: she was considering whether to make something up but then she realised she’d been caught red-handed. So she just gave Wanda a big dopey smile.

  ‘Oh, seriously?’

  ‘I Dettoxed afterwards,’ Sara said, lamely.

  Wanda couldn’t help but guffaw. ‘That’s something, I suppose. So anyway, you and Bowen! How long’s it been going on for? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘A few dates, it’s very casual. Although he seems quite keen.’ Sara blushed and Wanda was totally thrilled for her. ‘He’s so lo
vely. We just hit it off at Lew’s dinner thing and … you know … I thought, why not? Even though he’s a few years younger than me.’

  ‘Get you!’ Wanda said, taking her arm as they went to the shop, where she picked up her paper bags. There was even more love in the air at Spike’s. As he helped her load the Land Rover, he sang Annie’s praises for bringing Arthur out of himself.

  On the drive home, a little self-indulgent voice in Wanda’s head asked when it would be her turn. Romance seemed to be everywhere – Sara and Bowen were an item, Spike and Annie were inevitable, the reformed glamper wankers had got engaged in front of her and Wanda had caught the nudists gazing into each other’s eyes over a flask of tea. She shuddered as she recalled turning the corner into the privacy of the shepherd’s hut quarters to be confronted by the sight of the man’s hairy bottom bent over a disposable barbecue as he flipped bacon. And Glanmor’s latest blog rubbed it in, too – he and his wife had renewed their wedding vows on a Spanish beach in bikinis and bathers. Wanda, though, was sat on the shelf approaching her best-before date. But she wasn’t going to think like that, she’d promised herself. No self-pity, she hadn’t the time for it. Besides, a million jobs awaited her.

  The day sped by in a slog of cleaning, check-ins, showing people to their plots and answering queries – but it was fantastic, especially when it came to taking payment for their stays, canoe cruises and bits and pieces of supplies she’d begun to sell in reception. Carys was manning the phones inside and popped out to cover loo breaks, while Mam made sure Wanda didn’t go hungry or thirsty with regular deliveries.

  At dusk, she shut the cabin, feeling tired out but happy, taking in the busy field of multicoloured tents, people sat out on camping chairs, tucking into their tea, drinking wine and beer, kids in the play area and climbing trees, a couple canoeing out on the lake. It was a sea of smiling faces, of guy ropes being adjusted, pans being washed up and all under the beginnings of a starry sky. But there was an anxiety building inside her: the fire pits were beginning to be lit, one by one orange flames were dancing – it would be all too easy to go inside and pull the curtains. Yet she would only fret all night if she did. Just tonight, for peace of mind, she needed to make sure the fires would be out by the 10 p.m. curfew. Even if she had to go round and douse them all herself.

  With impeccable timing, Lew appeared next to her. ‘Fire marshal reporting for duty!’

  Wanda took a deep breath to steady herself: not just at the demons before her but at him, appearing yet again to help her. He’d made it obvious he had done so to speed up her departure, then he’d softened and said he wanted her to go for her own sake. Then there was Annie, who’d said he might want her to go because he couldn’t be around her if they weren’t friends. Yet here he was, reaching out to her. But when she thought about it, Wanda realised it all added up to the same thing: that he didn’t want her to stay.

  ‘Wow. Look at this!’ he said, scanning the campsite.

  ‘I know! It’s like the old days.’

  ‘But it’s different, it’s got you stamped all over it. Quirky, cool, warm …’

  Oh hell. He was killing her with kindness now. Ice-cold Lew would be much easier to deal with as far as her emotions went.

  ‘Ready?’ he said.

  ‘Not really. But no point putting it off.’

  They set off on patrol, wandering around, the circles of fire growing brighter as night fell. Some were well on the way, with flames licking bubbling marshmallows on sticks, while others were at the beginning, just a scrunch of newspaper and tiny wigwams of kindling, being fanned into life.

  Every now and again, Lew would ask if she was okay – and surprisingly she was, because every pit they passed was under control. It was completely different to the raging wildfire fifteen years ago. But then he chucked her a curveball.

  ‘Why don’t we go and build one, by the last pit at the edge of the lake?’

  ‘Really? Do we have to? I mean, is that necessary?’

  ‘To truly get over something,’ he said, his cheekbones accentuated in the low light, ‘you’ve got to be exposed to it, to get used to it.’

  If only that worked as far as his company was concerned – these brief moments together only made her feel more for him.

  ‘I’ve taught so many people who are frightened of heights and by the time I’ve finished with them they’re abseiling like experts!’

  At the lake, he took off his rucksack, emptying it of newspaper, kindling and wood before instructing her to get on with it. He was here, just on the log stool, she didn’t have to worry. Fighting the tremble, she did her best and managed to get it going.

  ‘There we are, safe as houses, well done!’ Lew said.

  It did look cosy. But then there was a crack and a hiss and she jumped.

  ‘It’s just me opening a can of lager, Wanda,’ he said, handing it over. ‘Brought a few tinnies for us. Don’t panic.’

  She took one, two, three big gulps of fizz and gave the appropriate ‘aaah!’ ‘Thank you for this.’ She held up her can and then gestured at the fire. ‘I never thought I’d get this close again.’

  She realised the same went for being with him. The buzz of the beer and the cloak of darkness gave her the courage to address the moment. If she didn’t raise it now, when would she?

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t chase you up after the fire. Your calls and messages … I wasn’t in the right place and then not seeing you at the funeral … I was a mess for a long time afterwards.’

  Wanda took a little look at him, staring at the flames.

  ‘I regret not coming. I wish I could’ve but it was … difficult. Stuck where I was.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it was easy to get here when you were halfway up a Scottish mountain in crampons, days away from civilisation.’

  ‘It did feel like I was marooned, yes. I think that’s why I went to Norfolk after. I’d had enough of the mountains. The highest point there was roughly the height of a stepladder. It was good for what I needed at the time. Somewhere different.’

  Wanda held her breath. This was what she had guessed – and this was the first time he’d properly opened up to her.

  ‘After the fire, I thought there was nothing heroic about mountains. Being somewhere flat was straightforward and open, like a blank canvas. I needed that. But then … stuff happened …’

  She willed him on – there had to be a woman involved. But he didn’t bite.

  ‘The Bunkhouse was meant to be, that’s the way I look at it.’

  He looked up at her intently. They were definitely sharing a moment and she felt flustered, unsure what his eyes were saying.

  ‘Even with me here,’ she said, clumsily.

  ‘Even with you here, yes,’ he laughed. ‘And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.’

  Wanda’s insides went full mush – whether he was including her in that, she had no idea. Annoyed at herself for reading what may or may not be into what he said, she changed tack. She had deliberately walked away whenever she heard anyone mentioning Belmira: Wanda didn’t want to know if they’d turned The Bunkhouse into The Bonkhouse. And yet, she kind of did …

  ‘Not even Portugal?’ she said, with a slight arch of her brow.

  Lew frowned, then the penny dropped and he tutted, with a playful twinkle in his eyes. ‘Belmira has asked me if I’d like to go and visit.’

  I bet she has! Wanda thought jealously, before calling his bluff in her very best calm and collected voice. ‘I can sort you cheap flights, no problem.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind, thanks,’ he said, getting up to throw the last log on the fire, crouching beside it, fanning it and generally indicating he wasn’t going to tell her anything about his love life.

  ‘I’ll go after this,’ he said. ‘I’m fully booked on a climbing course tomorrow. Need my wits about me.’

  ‘Do you
enjoy teaching?’

  ‘Yes. It’s amazing watching people push themselves.’ He stood up and went to sit back down again.

  ‘Have you thought any more about doing that speaking thing at school? About the danger of fire? The one Bowen asked you about at your open house.’

  ‘No time,’ he said, quickly, deciding against joining her, distractedly patting his pockets.

  ‘It won’t take much! I think you’d be good at it. They’d listen to you, what with you being outdoorsy and local. They’d look up to you.’

  He began to pack his rucksack and then he passed a watering can to Wanda and gestured she should put the fire out. But there was still time before the curfew.

  ‘You’re all capable and—’

  ‘Leave it, Wanda.’ His body had gone stiff.

  ‘Okay, I was just—’

  ‘You weren’t the only one affected by the fire,’ he said quietly over his shoulder. ‘I’m not what people think I am.’

  Before Wanda could analyse what he’d just said, he added with a laugh, ‘I mean, what if they found out I take a hot water bottle to bed? Come on, pour the water.’

  The flames immediately died and she received a face full of billowing steam and smoke, but there was neither panic nor the taste of the past. But her surprise was overtaken by confusion. She’d found out more about Lew tonight, yet she felt she knew him less. What had he meant about being affected by the fire, and not being who people thought he was? Maybe she ought to check he was okay. But by the time she’d decided to, once she’d triple-checked there really were no smouldering sparks left in the pit, there were only head torches and whispers to be seen and heard all around her. And Lew was already lost in the darkness.

  23

  ‘What a sick birthday!’ Arthur said as he collapsed onto the back seat of his dad’s van.

  Teg leapt in beside him and, with a huge sigh, immediately laid her chin on the boy’s thighs and conked out, the very definition of doggo.