He laughs. “I can’t think what else it could be. I borrowed it,” he says, putting a huge tripod down on the ground.
I watch in the red light of the head torch as he sets up the tripod and then carefully lifts a telescope out of its protective casing. The whole thing is about the length and breadth of a trumpet, with a glass end about as large too. He sets it carefully into the tripod and fixes some screws before grinning.
“Eight-inch aperture for a guaranteed view of deep space,” he says. “You want to see Polaris?” He presses on his watch, which lights up momentarily. “I think we might just make it.”
A few moments later, he whispers, “Mara, come. Look.”
I jump down from the wall and I crouch down and look in the viewer.
“Jeez, it’s so bright. Amazing,” I say. “Polaris? The North Star?”
“Yes,” he says. “The guiding light. It holds almost perfectly still while the rest of the sky moves around it in a circle.”
“I know,” I say, nudging him with my hip. “You do know that someone who follows astrology properly knows about the night sky, right?”
“I’m learning,” he says.
“What else can I see? Can you show me Saturn?”
I feel him gently push me aside, and then with expert movements he swings the telescope and moves it around slowly. “Should be around here, but not quite visible.”
He pushes it back to me and I gaze through it. I look for thefuzzy plate, but can’t make anything out. “Well, it is one-point-four billion kilometers away.”
“So, what, like five miles?” I feel his breath on my neck as he laughs. I move my shoulder to try to rid myself of the feeling of tingling that remains where his breath was. He moves forward to adjust something on the lens, and then I feel his arms pressing into my sides. I resist the urge to lean into him. “Did you know there are more stars in the sky than grains of sand on every beach on earth?”
“Carl Sagan,” Ash says.
“Yep. It was coming here camping that got me interested in the stars, actually. My dad had a way of explaining it so that everything felt so expansive and so possible. There is something so grounding about feeling yourself on a rock, hurtling through space. So insignificant and yet so significant. So much to think and wonder about.”
“I agree,” he says, and his hand comes to mine as he moves the telescope gently upward. “Sagittarius, right?”
I peer in and see my constellation. I know it so well, but I’ve never seen it like this. Ash is even closer now, and I can feel the hairs on my arms standing on end. I’m almost willing him to cross that line.
“Wow, that just makes me want to log on and check my daily horoscope,” I say, and I hear a very faint sigh from him. “I’m kidding. Christ. Show me more.”
“And that’s Hercules,” he says, becoming animated, his voice lifting. He’s pointing over to the three stars in a row, almost dead center in the night sky.
“We have to come back in winter,” he says with wonder. “It’sreally such a magic spot for stargazing. I wish we had something like this in Broadgate, but it’s getting more and more difficult with the light pollution. And there isn’t a decent telescope anywhere.”
“You should build one. You could be Broadgate’s weird star guy.”
“I wish,” he says. “When I’m finished studying and shot of my student loan, it’ll be first thing on my list to get a telescope.” He steps back from the telescope and looks up. “You know what? I may not have faith, but this is totally my church.”
“It’s mine too,” I say.
“I just don’t know why anyone has to fill in the gaps of life with made-up stories and magic when all of this is right here. Provable. Calculable. Endlessly explorable. And, you know, completelyfucking majestic. I look up and see all the answers I need.”
“I look up and see questions,” I say. And then, as I feel the wooziness of the booze and the heat of his body next to me, I find I’m unable to stop pushing him. “Why are you here, Ash? On this trip with me?”
“I said. I had some time. I had some holiday. I needed a break,” he says.
“And?” I ask, almost willing him to say that he has feelings about me. I want him too. In this moment, I want him.
“I was worried about you, I suppose.”
“Why?” I say, almost egging him on.
“Well, if we’re sharing honestly...”
