“The stars or the red-eye out of Southend Airport?” I say, pointing at a moving flashing light above us.
“Exactly,” he says, turning his head to me.
“Your pilot’s license?” I say, confused.
“No. The night sky. The stars. You know when I said I wanted to be an astronaut?”
I laugh, elbowing him in the ribs, and he grabs my elbow and pushes me away playfully.
“Oh right. You’re moonlighting for some secret NASA program.”
“I wish. But no. I went to Cambridge to do physics because I wanted to ultimately do cosmology. They have this bachelor of natural sciences there, and then I was going to go on and do cosmology somewhere, maybe in Dorset.”
“That’s so cool,” I say, turning my face to his.
“I dropped out and I’ve just always regretted not doing it,” he says. “It was Cambridge really. It was competitive and full of posh kids called George and Rupert and Freddie. I got embarrassed of stupid things like my accent.”
“Oh, I get that; I’m a Geordie,” I say.
“But, you know, I got older and a bit tougher and in the end I wanted to finish the study. It always chewed away at me. Anyway, when I turned twenty-nine, I thought fuck it. So, I found a course at King’s College in London and applied. I’ve been traveling up and back for the last few years, living with my parents. Wanted my own space in the end, though; that’s why I moved in with you.”
“I’m impressed,” I say. And I am. This revelation about Ash has really surprised me. “But why all the secrecy? You should tell people; then they might stop calling you to go and help change their light bulbs,” I say, blushing now at the help he offered at the lido.
“I like my job,” he says, and then he laughs. “It’s dumb, but when I left for Cambridge I felt so much pressure from everyone. My parents wouldn’t shut up about it. You know what this town is like. I just want to keep this close to my chest until it’s done. So it’s just mine, you know? Then if I decide to do nothing with it, I can also feel cool about it.”
“Would you donothingwith it?”
“Maybe. I like what I do. It’s possible to just do something because it’s interesting. Not every hobby or whatever has to be a career. Truth be told, though, I’d love to get funding for a telescope for the town. A proper one, you know?”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, my mind whirring as if someone has lifted it up and shaken it like a snow globe. I am waiting for all my thoughts to settle, but they do not. Returning to study? Finishing something because you love it. Something just for you?
“I see you in a whole new starlight,” I say. “Nerd.”
He smiles upward, not turning to face me, and then says, “It’s been so full on, but I’m loving it, really. I have to force myself out of my room sometimes.”
“Makes me nearly want to go back and chase my dreams,” I say whimsically.
“Nothing stopping you,” he says.
I stare back up at the fan of stars reaching from one end of the bay across to the other. My eyes move across the visible constellations toward the moon, which is large and milky yellow.
“I have a question for you. With all that we don’t know, and with all that we can’t prove, do you not leave any room at all for, like, magic or celestial influence of any kind?”
“You can’t say either way one hundred percent for sure.” He shrugs. “But no. Astrology, gods, whatever your belief structure. It’s just a framework, isn’t it? To make sense of our insignificance.”
Now he turns to face me, and I breathe out.
“I think that’s really kind of sad.”
“There’s magic enough up there in what wedoknow,” he says, his eyes on the grass beside me as he speaks. “There’s plenty of magic all around me.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fish around for it, the light bright in my eyes in the darkness. It’s a WhatsApp from my dad. He famously hates technology, so this has to be important.
I hope we’re seeing you for your mother’s birthday? Your brother’s got some news to share and we’d all like to see you there Mara.
I grimace.
“What is it?” Ash says.
