A Sea of Stars (14 page)

T
he day before we go back to school, Mum arranges a picnic for us on the beach. It's a bit quieter down there now because the summer holidays have ended and everyone has trailed back home.

“I won't need my surfboard,” I say, “because I'm not going in. I'm going to make sandcastles with Cat, maybe even a sand-mermaid.”

But Mum just smiles. She hums an old sea ballad and she's packed so much food we'll be picnicking until Christmas.

Down on the beach, waiting for us, are Anna and Luca, and Luca's dad, and Rachel and Gus.

Luca's trying to smile, but I can tell that something is wrong. “I was right,” he says, sliding over to me. “We're staying here for good. But my mum and sister are going back to California. So I'm starting at your school tomorrow. It's going to be weird.”

“I'm just beginning to learn that life is weird,” I say, “and maybe weird's OK. Maybe that's how it's meant to be.”

In the distance, a neon orange wheelchair is coming towards us. Cat starts waving like crazy. When Chloe finally gets to us she leaps up out of her chair, introduces us to her dad and gives us all a big zabaloosh hug.

“I can't wait,” she says. “I'm so excited!”

“Calm down, Chloe,” I say. “It's only a picnic we're having.”

Chloe smiles at Mum. Mum winks. Then, after we've eaten and our food's gone down and we're just lying back in the sun chatting, my mum starts acting really weird. She starts taking all her clothes off and putting on a swimming costume – in front of everyone.

“What are you doing, Mum?” I hiss. “You're so embarrassing!”

“Going surfing, Maya,” she says, as if it's a normal thing she does every day, like brushing her teeth. Then she hands me my bikini and Cat hers. “Pop your things on, girls. Come on.”

“I'm not surfing any more,” I say. “I told you. I quit. It's too dangerous.”

Cat's nodding her head, her eyes wide with the ghosts of people drowning. She starts nibbling and trembling.

“I'm staying with Maya,” she says, drawing a heart with her finger in the sand.

“Come on,” says Chloe, pulling her clothes off to reveal her bikini underneath. “This is brilliant! I'm going surfing! Can you believe it? I never thought this would happen in a million years and I need you both to help me. I won't be able to manage it all on my own.”

I shake my head. Cat shakes hers.

“Big-wave surfer girl, stoke me!” smiles Luca, rubbing his eyes.

“I don't care about that any more, Luca,” I say, “and I'm really sorry, Chloe, but I'm not going in. Not ever again.”

Mum kneels down between me and Cat and gently takes hold of our hands.

“If you fall off a horse,” she says, “the only remedy is to get back on. And it's the same with a bike, so Chloe and I figured it must be the same with a surfboard. I've been really messed up, girls, and I'm really sorry. I've not given you enough freedom, Maya, and Cat, I've given you too much. So we need to take things gently from here. We'll give that silly tiger puppet to the charity shop and start afresh. We'll find our own way to trust each other so everyone gets to feel safe and loved and everyone gets the right amount of freedom.”

“Let's keep the teddy, though,” I say. “He's cute.”

Cat laughs. “That tiger is silly,” she says.

Then Dad picks her up and turns into the tickle monster and she giggles for England and Mum starts laughing too.

It feels strange being back in the water, but
Mum's right, it's good to get back in. Chloe thinks bodyboarding is the best thing ever and, although Cat's a bit nervous, I can tell she'll get used to it soon.

And I can't actually believe it, but Mum's in the sea with us, swishing around in the waves like a mermaid.

“We're going to have a wonderful life together, girls,” she says. “I can feel it in my bones. I really do believe that it's written in the stars.”

 

When I wake up for school the next day, the damselflies start whirring. I like school, but I prefer the holidays and, although I'm allowed to only do half-days for a bit because of being poorly, even half-days feel like a lot. Cat's talking like a train about how great it's going to be having Chloe in her class and stuff. And she doesn't even know that we're really tired because she screamed for three hours in the night and wet the bed twice. But she hasn't screamed in the daytime for ages. She hasn't held her breath or run away. She's not stolen any food.

Mum's books say Cat's progress might be slow, that she might never properly recover because it takes time to mend broken hearts. But I've seen Cat twinkle. And, although her heart's been torn into a million little pieces, it's still completely perfect – it still twinkles through her eyes and shines brighter than the sea of stars outside my bedroom window at night.

“You'd better hurry, Maya,” says Dad, coming into the kitchen with an atlas in his hand, “or you're going to miss your bus.”

I can't believe my ears.

He slides a bus pass across the kitchen table to me and winks.

“For you,” he smiles. “You have to meet Anna and Luca at the crossroads in ten minutes, so you'd better hurry up.” Then he opens the atlas on Hawaii and trails his finger around the coastline.

Mum swipes him with a tea towel and laughs. “Let's start with the bus first, shall we?” she smiles.

 

It's after school, Mum's lighting the barbecue at
home and I'm waiting on the beach for Cat and Anna and Luca. Cat's clambering down the cliff to meet me, waving like mad. We're both still a bit scared of the water, but we're not going to let fear stop us from surfing; we're not going to let it stop us from living.

I hurt inside when I think about all the painful stuff that Cat's been through. But I can't change what's happened, because nothing can do that. If Alfie hadn't died and the big red bus hadn't stopped just in time, I wouldn't be here on the beach waiting for her. We wouldn't be here together. Life would have turned in another way and coloured in different patterns and I might be halfway up a mountain in Peru. But this is how it is now and I need to find a word for Cat that's as precious as silver or gold. Because, although she's mostly really annoying, and she's surrounded by tricky eggshells all the time, and she'll probably never completely stop screaming and stuff, she is my sister.

Cat hurries over and sits down next to me on the sand – close, but not touching, but close enough
for us to smell each other's hair. A million words tangle in my mind. I love you sounds too cheesy. I hate you sounds too harsh. I think, wouldn't it be brilliant if love and hate could hold each other's hands and be OK together because they're both true. They're just how it is.

“I haven't properly said thank you for saving my life,” I say. “You were amazing, Cat. I would definitely have drowned without you.”

Cat's silent for a minute. She nibble-nibble-nibbles on a nail. She stares out at the glittering sea.

“S'OK,” she smiles, twiddling her hair round and round her finger. “Anyone would've done it.”

“Oh, come on, baby bumcake,” I say, suddenly finding the special words, grabbing her hand without asking and pulling her into the sea. “Let's catch some waves.”

Cat giggles; she sends me a twinkle, which lands in my heart like a soft, warm glow. And my special words for her chink on my teeth like silver, they shine like a sea of stars at night.

Thank you Daniel for your presence, for your tender heart, for holding my hand as we surf the wild waves of this wonderful life together.

Thank you my beautiful children, Jane, Tim, Sam, Joe & Ben, for showering my life with so much love and joy. I am so proud of you all.

Thank you Tim & Susie for the depth of your love – for witnessing my entire life – for keeping me safe – for seeing me.

Thank you Paul for your constant encouragement and support – for the love that we share – for our children.

Thank you my lovely Dawne, for our precious and courageous sharing of hearts… for our long and enduring friendship… for all that is still to come.

Thank you Rachel, Carole, Clea & Helen for your love and encouragement, for the threads of gold that bind our hearts.

Thank you Susannah and Bliss… for appearing… for blowing in on the breeze.

Thank you Michael and Jules for cosy bed space when I'm in London and for all your love and support.

Thank you Vince, Charlotte, Georgia, Kirra, Harry, Sonny & Robbie for all your help in getting the surfy bits right so that
A Sea of Stars
didn't look like it was written by the complete and utter kook that I am! ‘Bumcake' and ‘Peace Out' to you all, what an awesome family you are!

Thank you Veronica, Ellie, Anna & Kitty Birch, Veronica Yates and Justina Gay for all your support and interest in helping me understand the adoption process and in getting Cat's voice right – you've all been such a valuable and necessary resource – the children in your care are blessed by your presence in their lives.

Thank you Chloe for all your help – always remember how special you are.

Thank you a gazillion times lovely Eve – you have to be the sweetest and most gorgeous agent that ever existed on this planet!

Thank you a gazillion times beautiful Rachel – your talent for offering guidance with a firm hand and the lightest of touch is astonishing – I feel so supported and loved by you. BTW, don't know if anyone's ever told you this before but your radiant smile is pure joy to behold!

Thank you Rose for all your hard work on
A Sea of Stars
whilst it was taking baby steps in the world and thank you Lizzie for cheering it on with such enthusiasm and care all the way to the finishing line.

Thank you Eliz for yet another gorgeous cover design, I love it so, so much!

Thank you everyone else from HarperCollins who's involved in some way or other with my books. I have so much appreciation for all the hard work that you do.

I have such gratitude for all the people I never get to meet – those who plant and cut the sustainable forests, make the paper, print the pages, wrap and pack and drive and stack and sell my books – without you
A Sea of Stars
would be left drifting in my imagination. Thank you for the part that you play in bringing my books into being.

Thank you Adam – you were right – so much richness – so much depth – so much love.

Thank you to the space in which we all appear – in and as this…

Love Love Love to every child who's experienced adoption.

Love Love Love to every courageous mother who has had to let their baby go.

Love Love Love x

Kate Maryon is officially addicted to writing!

 

She also loves going into schools for talks and writing workshops, and is always so touched by the many emails she gets from girls telling her how much they've enjoyed her books. Kate loves spending time with her grown-up children, her husband and all her lovely friends and continues to be inspired by the work she does with children and adults, which supports them in discovering the truth of who they really are. But wherever she is, whatever she's doing, there's always a story running through her imagination, the shadow of a character forming in her heart.

 

Kate still loves chocolate, films, eating out, reading, writing and lying on sunny beaches and she still dislikes peppermint and honey.