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

by Laura Kemp

  There was a knock at her bedroom door and Carys appeared, enormous stomach first, looking white as a sheep.

  ‘You okay?’ Wanda said, putting her laptop down and examining her face. It was pinched with fright. She got up and went to her sister, who suddenly froze.

  ‘There it is again, I can feel something moving,’ she said. ‘I felt it before but thought it was just a twinge.’

  ‘It’s not Rock and Roll having a mosh?’ It was a stupid question but she needed to ask it.

  ‘No. It’s different. My bump, it’s all tensed up.’

  Wanda could see the anxiety in her hands which swept across her bump, trying to detect what was going on.

  ‘Do you think you’re going into labour?’ Wanda said, trying to hide the fear which was rising in her chest. The babies were twenty-nine weeks. Their chances of survival were good, but they’d be in an intensive care unit, tube-fed and on oxygen. Wanda had read up on everything but didn’t like to let Carys know she knew the score: she didn’t want her thinking she was worried.

  ‘I hope not. Please, God, stay in there, you two,’ she said to her tummy.

  ‘Maybe they’re those practice contractions? The Branston Pickles.’ Their name for Braxton Hicks, which Mam had misheard. ‘Have you timed them?’

  ‘Yes, they’re random, I was just having a nap and they woke me up.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Proper contractions were regular.

  ‘But I dunno … I’m scared. My back aches and that’s meant to be a sign.’ She bit her lip and Wanda could see the anguish in her eyes. ‘If it wasn’t twins, I don’t know if I’d want to be checked out. But there’s so much stuff that can go wrong here, I’m just terrified.’

  ‘Right, I’ll take you now to the hospital. No arguments.’

  Carys gave a massive sigh of relief. The poor thing, having to shoulder all of the concern alone. By taking charge, it meant Wanda had allowed her sister to admit that was what she had wanted all along. And she could always say she’d been forced to go with Wanda if she felt silly if it turned out to be nothing.

  ‘Better bring your bag,’ Wanda said. ‘Just in case. You go down, tell Mam, I’ll get your stuff then meet me in the Land Rover.’

  Carys waddled off slowly at the speed of – and, to be honest, the size of – an oil tanker. Pregnancy was wonderful, obviously, but there were definitely drawbacks. Shiny hair and strong nails Carys might have but Wanda’s rose-tinted view of it had been ripped away by her sister’s plight of constipation, exhaustion, swollen ankles, overheating in the sunshine and sleepless, uncomfortable nights.

  Wanda fought Mam off, who was desperate to come but someone needed to hold the fort, and lugged Carys’s bulging bag of newborn nappies, tiny babygros, maternity pads and huge knickers outside.

  ‘Let’s look at this as a test run, eh?’ Wanda said at the wheel as they sped off.

  ‘Yes, good plan. Thanks, Wanda, I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Carys was never far from tears these days.

  ‘Well, how chuffed do you think I am that I’m your birth partner?’ The less said about that absent father the better. It was irrational to blame him when he knew nothing of the situation. The chances of a one-night stand ending like this were slim, yet Wanda wished he’d been the nice guy he’d seemed when he got together with Carys. It was all so disappointing. That was men for you. It was crushing that Lew fitted into that category too.

  Two weeks it’d been since his big reveal to her on the mountain top and he’d gone to ground, only rising up to perform his frankly puzzling topless strip on the high-school stage. What had he been thinking? Was he losing the plot? It was erratic behaviour. Or maybe it was a release after all these years of denial, as if once he’d lanced the boil with her he needed to do it again and again to prove his remorse. His ears had to be burning – Gobaith was on fire with questions: what had he had to do with it? Were the police involved? Did it count as a guilty plea? What happened to him to get all those scars? For the meantime, there’d be no answers. Lew had disappeared on some residential training course in the Peak District – talk about convenient timing; an old mate of his had stepped in to run The Bunkhouse – and Wanda was glad of his absence. But still his confession had reopened the village’s wounds. Mam and Carys were of the opinion that there had to be a reason for all of it – Lew just wasn’t like that. They refused to believe it, more like. While Wanda felt wretched, she couldn’t imagine how Annie was feeling. To find out her brother had taken all the blame must’ve been horrendous, especially when Lew had been so close to Ryan and her. Wanda had knocked on Annie a couple of times but Blod had said she was either at work or feeling unwell: it was clear she wanted to avoid people. Even her messages had gone unanswered. It had made Wanda’s decision to leave all the clearer. She wondered if she’d ever come back …

  Another wince from Carys and Wanda shoved everything back in its box. This was what mattered – this was perspective. She parked up and escorted Carys to the maternity unit, where she was ushered in by a calm midwife, whose kind hand on Carys’s arm emphasised her words: ‘It’s probably nothing, don’t worry.’ But how could they not? Wanda tried her best to reassure her as the medics buzzed around finding a bed, strapping her to a monitor and taking her blood pressure. Yet when the midwife furrowed her brow and announced the results were a little high, Wanda could feel panic rising. A cold feeling crept up her spine when Carys nodded yes to the question did she have a headache or slightly blurred vision. The contractions had gone, that was good, wasn’t it? Wanda said as positively as she could but that wasn’t the reason for their investigations. They were looking at pre-eclampsia, which affected the flow of blood to the placenta.

  ‘That’s dangerous,’ Carys gasped. ‘For the babies and me.’

  ‘It depends on the severity. We’ll do bloods and a urine test,’ the midwife explained.

  ‘They’ll fix it, Caz, it’ll be fine,’ Wanda said, smoothing her sister’s hair.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s about managing it,’ the midwife said. ‘The only way to cure it is to deliver the babies. But we need to keep them in there for as long as we can to avoid further complications.’

  Carys nodded bravely but she was fighting tears when the news came: she had a moderate case of pre-eclampsia and would be kept in until they had her blood pressure under control. Best case, she could go home after that; worst, she’d have to stay there on bed rest until the twins were delivered – the risk otherwise was possible disability and brain damage to mother and suffocation in the babies.

  ‘That’d be at least two months in here!’ Carys had cried into Wanda’s shoulder as she rocked her in her arms.

  ‘Whatever it takes, we’ll do it, you and me, eh?’

  ‘I’m so scared,’ she whispered.

  You and me both, kid, Wanda thought.

  Saying goodbye was torture. Carys looked so young lying there but it was better she was under observation than at home. Wanda had never imagined she would be leaving the hospital without her sister and her fear echoed in her footsteps as she walked the corridor to the exit shortly after 9 p.m. At the steering wheel, she allowed herself a little cry – she’d have to let this out before she put a brave face on for Mam. Back home, Carys’s absence hit them hard and Wanda caught Mam staring at her spot on the sofa, empty but for the dent left in the cushion by her body. As much as they tried to reassure themselves it would all be fine, Mam’s wringing hands gave her away. And Wanda’s cup of tea went untouched. She sent Mam to bed; she’d follow in a bit but really she had no idea how she would sleep. Maybe some air might help.

  Wanda went to the lake and sat back against a rock, her knees up, waiting for her eyes to adjust to see the stars in all their glory.

  ‘Please keep her and the babies safe,’ she said to the night sky, weary with worry but her brain working away on something she wasn’t quite sure of. It was a nigg
ling feeling related to seeing her sister there all alone in the ward when other mums-to-be were being fussed and loved by their other halves. If only there was a way she could find this Danny Platt. If only she could work out a way to do it without causing an international manhunt, which Carys had explicitly vetoed. No Facebook results, no online luck. How could this be allowed to happen? This bloke, whether or not he was interested in Carys, had a right to know he was going to be a dad. Whether it was for the first time or not, that didn’t matter. Two babies were coming into the world without a father. If she had to bloody well go up to Manchester herself and break her way into every call centre and demand to talk to every Daniel in a headset … But then she had a Google alert whenever the combination of call centre plus Manchester was mentioned on the web and it had thrown up nothing that included a man called Daniel. A while back, she’d started to email a few of the largest call centres out of desperation, admitting that yes, this does sound crazy but do you have a Daniel Platt working for you? Obviously she was either ignored or given the standard – and quite bastard right – ‘unable to help due to confidentiality’ reply. It was utterly hopeless. Manchester had the largest office-based work sector in the country outside of London – her hunt was akin to the needle-and-haystack combo, like trying to find a Jones in Wales …

  And then she saw a shooting star and the niggle was transformed into a puff of magic of sheer utter lunacy that couldn’t possibly lead anywhere – and yet it was worth a go. A shot of the longest proportions, the equivalent of that American tourist who once asked her if she knew Tom Jones. But what other lead did she have? So Wanda jumped up and legged it back through the tents to the farmhouse, on a mission to see if that funny feeling inside of her could possibly come to anything.

  31

  Annie’s coping mechanism had kicked in – once a loner, always a loner.

  That was her default and it had gradually returned as the ashes settled after Lew’s bombshell.

  Her oomph had gone, she was detached, but she wasn’t dead. She still had a life to live and should that be on autopilot, so be it. What had she always said about great expectations? They came to no good. She’d be grateful for the money in her pocket and the roof over her head. It still felt like she was in a fug though, even here under the cool canopy of the woods at the base of the mountain, where Teg whipped through trees in pursuit of a rustle in the branches, for there could be a squirrel to chase up some bark if she was lucky. In fact, this feeling inside, that she was sleepwalking through her days, was here in the dappled dancing light on leaves and the striped beams of sunshine which broke through, projecting like torchlight. There was an ethereal, other-worldly quality to it, which matched how she saw the world. She took a seat on a stump and tried to ground herself, but still she was floating. What would it take to bring her back to earth? There was the sound of a crack underfoot and she turned, looking through the green air dotted with flies and midges, seeing a figure who she’d known would eventually track her down.

  She’d been the artful dodger in Gobaith of late, keeping away from people, shopping outside the village, rising early for work, making the most of the long sunny days and evenings and returning late just to eat, then sleep. Lew’s business would be dominating the tittle-tattle and there would be eyes on her to see what she thought of his confession. She didn’t want to get dragged into it: she needed to tend to her own pain in private and deal with the injustice of Ryan being blamed all this time. She had rebuffed Wanda so many times she doubted there’d be a friendship at the end of it. Wanda had more important things on her mind too, with Carys in hospital. Whatever Annie was going through, whatever Wanda was suffering, their problems couldn’t compare to the tightrope of those babies’ survival.

  Inevitably, she knew the answers would lie with Lew, but she hadn’t been ready to face him. She’d known it would come, though. And here he was. She’d wondered how she’d feel when she set eyes on him. Enraged? Distressed? Violent? But there was none of that when he came closer and closer, his eyes wary, wanting to give her the room to do whatever she pleased. Instead Annie was in a kind of trance, as if her emotions were in a vacuum; she felt still, prepared to hear what he had to say before she reacted. To give in to the hatred that lurked at the distant edges of her mind would be something she could never return from. Perhaps it was because she still didn’t believe it, that Lew was responsible. If he was, if he told her, if she heard it from his mouth, then that would be final.

  ‘I thought I’d find you here,’ Lew said, from across the clearing, getting down on his haunches so he was physically lower than her in an act of submission. Poor Teg didn’t get it – she was the lowest in the hierarchy here, so she rolled onto her back, exposed her belly and throat and crooked her paws until Lew gave her a rub.

  Annie picked up a twig and ran her finger along its rough yellow lichen, a sign they were in the purest of airspace: how long would that last? How long would it be before Lew soiled it with whatever he had to say?

  ‘I’ve been away,’ he said, trying again, ‘on a course, just got back. I came looking for you straight away.’

  If she was the cynical type, she’d have said, ‘And what? Do you want a medal?’ She said nothing, waiting.

  ‘I should’ve told you, Annie. I’m sorry. With all my heart, I’m sorry.’

  She nodded slowly. This was the first step towards the thumping agony which was waiting in the wings.

  ‘What happened?’ She was giving him permission to tell it from his side before she considered whether to accept his apology.

  He ran his hands across his face and then down, as if he was trying to cleanse himself.

  ‘I went to find him,’ he said, staring into the woods. ‘You’d said Ryan had gone off on one, so I went. It took forever. He wasn’t where we all usually went, by the cave. He was further on, much further; it was dark, too, so I had to be careful. I was shouting his name over and over and then I saw him.’ His voice had cracked and he dropped his head.

  So it was true, he had lied. He’d always said he’d never found him. She found herself jumping to conclusions and it took every inch of her to rein them in. She needed to take in anything he had to give her on Ryan. She’d always thought she was the last one to see him alive: this was precious information which she wanted to hug to her heart. She was holding her breath and her questions so Lew could continue.

  ‘He was wrecked, Annie,’ he said, his brown eyes full of remorse for telling her this truth rather than something sweet. ‘He was really drunk, there were a few cans around him.’

  Her head fell down because of course it wouldn’t be anything other than devastating. There would be no happy twist – the last she’d seen of him had been red-hot anger after a row with his dad. Lew paused until she had collected herself, or what she could gather together from the rubble inside of her.

  ‘He’d built a fire and was trying to light it as I got there. I asked him what he was in a strop about, why he had his arse in his hand, something along those lines, that’s how we spoke to each other.’

  She could imagine it, their banter.

  ‘He was kind of laughing and swearing but not easily, there was a bitterness there. I tried to coax it out of him but he had his lighter and he was all fingers and thumbs, making sparks, and I was praying there’d be no lighter fuel left. Then it worked and I was gauging what to do, but he started crying. He said he’d made the fire because he was lost, he’d tried to find the path but he was so pissed he kept going round in circles. If he’d been sober then he’d have been fine. But he’d got scared and thought if he made a fire someone would see him and he’d get back down again.’

  Her poor, desperate brother – and she felt so sorry for Lew for having to break all of this to her. Was this why he hadn’t said?

  ‘I said to him to put it out, I was there now, I’d take him down, but he wouldn’t act rational, you know how people get when t
hey’re rat-arsed?’ Yes, she’d seen that in her own mother. ‘So I sat down with him then and thought if I could talk to him he’d calm down or sober up. He started rambling about things … he said his father was an arse …’ Oh, Ryan, how awful it had been for him. ‘They’d argued over a missing fiver from the kitchen pot. Ryan said he was as bad as his dad for drinking, he was going to end up like him and he … didn’t want to be alive anymore. He wished he was dead.’

  Annie swallowed back the lump in her throat and put her hand there to keep it down.

  ‘I didn’t like the sound of it at all. Meanwhile the fire was getting bigger and higher and I was thinking this was bad news, I tried to stamp it out and then Ryan was pulling at me, because my shorts had got a spark on them, he was trying to help.’ Lew’s voice was shaky now and he wiped a tear from his cheek. ‘I turned my back to the fire to pat my shorts and I lost my footing …’

  That image, she could see it in her mind, in slow motion – the tumble, the danger.

  ‘I fell back into the fire … only briefly but it was enough to burn me, I was rolling on the ground then, making sure I wasn’t still alight and then I saw the flames darting off away from me, there was a wind up there, it was so dry it zipped across as far as I could see and beyond, heading down. It was furious, that fire. I was in terrible pain, disorientated, and I called to Ryan.’

  Annie’s chin was wobbling and then they were both in tears.

  ‘I saw blue lights coming and I panicked, we had to get out of there. I looked everywhere to find him but he’d gone … that was the last I saw of him. The fire by now was raging. It was totally out of control – the noise, the roar of it, I’ll never forget that.’

  He was reliving it before her – how many times he must’ve seen this in his nightmares. That insomnia of his, this was why.