A Million Stars

‘A million, million stars,’ he muttered under his breath as the cold night stole into his aching lungs. Above him a cloudless night let stars radiate their brightness into the English countryside without interruption. What was it that Wordsworth had said? That stars were mansions built by mother nature’s hands? Robbie tried to remember the exact quote as he slipped over a style, a red fox watching him move from the safety of bramble hedge.

She’d said that she loved him, that given half a chance she would leave it all behind and go away with him to wherever he wanted to go. He’d given her the half a chance required and she had found the other half that barred the entrance to the path to the rest of their lives. Had she used him for some sick pleasure, seen the loneliness and hope dripping off him like an ice cream on a cornet on a hot summers day? How could he believe this of her, of the one he had cradled in his arms, smelt her hair and felt the soft contours of her body as they lay together in bliss. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t!

Seeing her with him in the pub that night had just about sent him over the edge again, but there was rarely anything nowadays that couldn’t be fixed by several Guinness chasers and the chatter of the ash tray lovers around him in the shelter of the smokers bar.

She had left with him around 11, a little glance Robbie’s way as pleasant goodnights were issued by one and all. She looked amazing. Better than ever thought Robbie as the drunken banter raged around him. Slowly the drinking buddies had left too and now, 12:30, he staggered gainfully across the open fields below the pub and towards the path home.

Tomorrow would be a new day, maybe even a better day. It just wouldn’t be a day for them. That chance had gone.

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