“Yes,” he replies, with a sort of embarrassed chuckle. “Of course. New moon is in two days.”
He turns to me again, this time switching his head torch downward as he looks across into the darkness. Suddenly, he leaps up on top of the stone wall and reaches his hand down to me, heaving me up to join him. I throw down the heavy blanket I’m holding and he stretches it out across the wall.
“So, you know about badger watching,” he says, as I sit myself down a little too close to him. “Do you know about the wall?”
“Yes. It was the edge of the Roman Empire. Some say that Hadrian had enough of dealing with the north, so he just built a wall to keep them out. It ran from coast to coast, with little stations along the route. There are a ton of Roman ruins around here. Corbridge town was apparently bustling in its time,” I say.
“Why are you whispering?” he says.
“I’m not sure,” I reply, speaking normally. “Because it’s dark?”
“It’s amazing how intact it still is for two thousand years old.”
“Used to be much higher, though. Not likeGame of Thronesthe wall high, but a bit higher than this,” I say. “Did you know that theRobin Hoodscene with Kevin Costner and Morgan Freeman was filmed about forty-five minutes in that direction? We could visit tomorrow.”
“With a picnic. It’s going to be hot tomorrow,” Ash says, “like seventy-three degrees hot. That’s hot for these parts, right?”
“Fuck off,” I say, laughing, “but yes. God, it’s literally the worst time to visit for stargazing, though. See how it’s not totally dark over there? Like dark purples and midnight blues. We should come back in winter, when the skies are the most clear and dark.”
“I’d be up for that,” he says.
I hand him the half bottle of vodka I’d stashed in my jacket on the way out the door. “Can you turn that bloody head torch off?”
He flicks a switch and the bright light changes to red. He removes the head torch and lays it down on the wall next to me, and we are bathed in a red glow, which makes everything more visible as our eyes adjust. Ash takes a swig. It’s eerie here, but to me it is so familiar. The rustle of the brush. The echoing silences on a still night. I get a flash of my brother and my dad, and those cold nights stargazing and badger watching come rushing back into every sense. The heat of tea in my hands. The orange glow from the fire embers. The long wait for badgers in the field. My dad and my brother with the star map out, fighting over which bright dot in the sky was Jupiter. I would wake up early in the morning, my sleeping bag zipped around me, having fallen asleep before my big brother and my dad. The memory is comforting, and I long suddenly for those days. That feeling of protection and love. I miss it. Deeply.
“We won’t be able to drive back if we have too much,” he says, expertly tossing the bottle onto the soft grass below us.
“Yes, Officer,” I reply, a little flirtatiously, and I feel his gaze turn from me toward the darkness. I try to remind myself not to encourage him, but I cannot stop the pull toward him that I’m feeling. That giddy feeling of being desired, and if I were to admit it, my desire for him.
I breathe slowly out. Idodesire him.
Ash zips up his jacket and lies along the wall so he’s looking up. The top of his head is inches from my thighs, and I do not dare to join him lying down. Every movement close to him feels like an invitation.
“Aren’t they wondrous,” he says.
“Wondrous?” He can be so earnest.
“Amazing,” he corrects himself, and I can almost feel the blush radiating from him.
“They are. Amazingandwondrous,” I say. “Do you think you’ll try to be an astronaut or... like, what are the jobs you can do with the degree anyway?”
“I think that spaceship has sailed, Mara. But yeah, I mean, I’m not really thinking past whether I pass or not. The stars. The planets. Dark matter. Black holes. Theoretical and numerical cosmology in the pre- and post-recombination universe. Well, that last bit is if I do a postgrad cosmology course.”
“Nerd,” I say teasingly.
“Weirdo,” he replies.
“It’s very inspiring, what you’re doing,” I say. “It’s on my mind, the idea of going back to study.”
“You totally should. I know you think it’s too late, but why is it? Because you’re supposed to know what you want to do with it?” he says. “I want to just do this quietly, on my own, and see if I can do it. Finish it, you know? Maybe I’ll just stick the degree on the wall in the toilet and grin every time I walk in there. I like my day job too. I can’t see myself giving that up.”
I stare up at the stars again.
“Okay, this sky is probably too light to see Andromeda, but I reckon we can still see a lot,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappears into the darkness and I hear the car boot open, and the sound of something heavy being heaved out. Then I hear his footsteps crunching on the ground as he heads back to me.
“Is that a telescope?”
