Written in the Stars (45 page)

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 turn 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.

Adam had shaken his head. ‘And you didn’t tell anyone?’

‘Only Kieran, after we tried to save Elliot. He said he’d tell everyone that he alone jumped. We were all soaked through from the rain anyway so no one knew the difference . . .’

‘Oh Bea,’ Adam said, pulling my head against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat against my head, like a ticking clock, indicating the passing seconds before he spoke again. I’d counted them, each and every one, and as they accumulated I knew that he was gearing up to tell me he couldn’t ever love someone as reckless and thoughtless and stupid as me.

‘You could have died,’ he said at last, lifting my head off his chest and gazing into my eyes. His were filled with shimmering pools of tears. ‘You could have died and I would never have met you.’

I pull myself out of the water and onto the beach, coughing and spluttering as the rain pounds against my back. It feels like hands congratulating me. Then, I sprint across the beach and back up onto the pier, pounding down on the wooden slats, my bare feet thundering like hooves.

Elliot is waiting for me as I run to the end, laughing and whooping and jumping up and down manically. And for a brief moment as I yell, ‘You didn’t think I’d do it!’ I feel that at last the battle is over and I’ve proved myself.

‘That looked fucking AWESOME!’ he cries, his eyes wild as he leans over the railing. The rain is lashing down even harder now and I’m starting to shiver. I wipe my face with my hand and shake my hair on the boardwalk, and by the time I look back, Elliot is climbing up on the rails. He turns, crouches like a monkey, and grins.

‘You don’t think I’d chicken out on a bet, do you? I’m INVINCIBLE!’ he shouts.

‘Don’t, Elliot, it’s not safe!’ I scream. ‘You’ve drunk too much. You’re off your head. I was lucky, that’s all!’

‘Luck’s my middle name!’

I turn and see Kieran at the other end of the pier. I wave at him desperately, but I’m not sure he can see me in the dark.

‘KIERAN!’ I see him start to run and I turn back to Elliot.

‘Look at me, bro!’ Elliot laughs and I can see Kieran is running down the pier lightning fast; he’s shouting but his words are being carried away by the wind and rain.

Elliot stands up suddenly but then his face changes as he loses his footing and he slips over the side, cracking his head as he body flips awkwardly and bangs against the side of the pier.

I scream and run to the railing where I watch his body spinning like a dandelion seed on the wind before it drops with a splash like a stone into the water.

Kieran’s screams join mine, he’s panting and hoarse and we lean over into the darkness but Elliot’s been swallowed into the blackness. I look at Kieran who is stripping off his clothes.

‘I’m going in after him!’

‘Then I’m coming in with you!’

And I climb back up onto the rails, I take Kieran’s hand and we jump.

‘You jumped in
again
?’ Adam said.

‘I had to try to save him. It was my fault he was up there in the first place . . .’

‘So what happened?’

‘Kieran found him. I’ll never know how he managed to drag him to the surface, but he did. Then the two of us pulled him back to the shore together. He had a massive gash on his head, there was blood everywhere. He’d been knocked unconscious on impact. Kieran tried to resuscitate him while I called an ambulance. The paramedics pronounced him dead when they arrived five minutes later.’

I’d lowered my head, aware that Adam had been stunned into silence. ‘So now you know the truth. My actions caused a young man to die. I’ve spent eight years trying to live with the guilt – unable to make any decision about my life because I couldn’t trust myself and because I didn’t think I deserved any happiness. And then Kieran showed up on our wedding day and I realised that I hadn’t really dealt with it at all. I hated myself for what I’d done. And if I couldn’t live with myself – how could I expect you to?’

Adam had taken my arms then, his face was stricken with sadness, his voice emphatic. ‘No, Bea, Elliot died because he was crazy and off his head on drink and drugs. He climbed up there of his own volition. You didn’t force him and you didn’t push him. It was an accident, a tragic accident. His, Bea, not yours. Not yours.’ And then he held me as I cried again, grieving for the young boy who had lost his life, and the girl who had never got over it.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Adam whispered over and over again as he stroked my head. ‘You weren’t to know. You have to let it go.’

Adam wakes up and he takes me in his arms and I close my eyes, luxuriating in his embrace, so much more appreciative of this amazing man after having spent nearly a year apart. Adam has always known how to lift me. I think of all the ‘Do you remember when . . .?’ stories he told me, recreating the happiest moments of our relationship to lift me out of dark places.

‘Hey you,’ he says sleepily. ‘Watcha thinking about?’

‘Oh, you know.’ I nuzzle into his neck and close my eyes. ‘Just stuff.’

He lifts up his elbow and supports his head on his hand. ‘OK, so do you remember when . . .’

I put my finger over his lips, surprising him. ‘Can we not talk about the past right now?’ I say apologetically. ‘I just want to be here . . . in this moment with you, right now.’

He nods and holds me tightly and once again I am moored.

And then he begins to murmur softly, not memories of happy moments past, but all the ones we have to come. I weep quietly as he paints a picture of our future life, our home, our family. He describes our children in detail, giving them equal parts of him and me, merging the best of us so that two people become three, and then four. He talks about his parents as grandparents, about Loni and Cal, making sure we see enough of them all so our family always has a strong, unbreakable bond. Many lives within one life.

‘Let’s go out tonight,’ Adam suggests contentedly when he’s finished plotting our future together. ‘I’ll pick you up from the flower shop after work and we’ll go for dinner.’

It’s an unseasonably warm night as Adam and I walk through the starlit streets of Canary Wharf. It’s strange being back here. I’ve had to come this evening to deliver one extra-special bouquet for a local garden designer who came in in a blind panic this morning needing some big displays for a party that evening. They got sent this afternoon but he called again just as Adam came to pick me up, asking for something more personal for a friend of his, and for me to hand-deliver them. He sounded so stressed, part of me has wondered if it’s worth seeing if he needs some sort of an assistant. He – James – had been amazed how much I knew when he was discussing the displays he needed for the roof terrace project he’d been working on this morning. I had told him about the one I’d designed at my old flat and spent a happy ten minutes discussing lighting options, dividers and design features. He told me that if it went well, he was looking to expand his business. Maybe even open an office out of London.