Page 36 of See the Stars

The universe is wider than our views of it.

HENRY DAVID THOREAU

A lice and Jennie were in Sheila’s kitchen, the table pushed to one side, each standing on one of Jennie’s purple yoga mats.

‘Thanks for this,’ said Alice, not feeling particularly thankful as she pulled at the waistband of her leggings.

‘A yoga class is the least I can offer,’ said Jennie. ‘Berti is having the time of his life, learning from you.’

‘He’s talented,’ said Alice.

‘I know,’ replied Jennie. ‘It’s nice when someone else sees it too, instead of writing him off.’

‘I can’t imagine how anyone would.’

‘Really? You don’t know the same people I do.’

Alice realised that in her attempt to be polite, she’d lied. Plenty of people she knew would see him tapping his fingers or avoiding eye contact and decide he seemed more trouble than he was worth.

But she knew different.

They stood in silence for a moment, then Jennie cleared her throat.

When she spoke, her voice sounded slower and calmer, with a slight lilt to it as if she were half singing.

‘This will do you the world of good,’ she said.

It was her professional voice, Alice realised. They were beginning the class.

‘The doctor did tell me to get some light exercise,’ said Alice, looking at Jennie’s rather magnificent violet leggings. The colour of twilight. She glanced at her watch. She still had hours to wait till sunset, when she could get back to the telescope. ‘Nothing too strenuous.’

‘Don’t worry. We’ll do a gentle practice. Let’s start by sitting comfortably to do some breathwork.’

Jennie folded herself into a cross-legged position that Alice hadn’t attempted since sitting in assembly as a child.

Alice had a go, but the result was far from comfortable.

‘Perhaps kneeling might be better for you,’ Jennie suggested, demonstrating by neatly tucking her feet under her.

‘Did you say you hadn’t practised before? ’

‘That’s right,’ said Alice. ‘I’m more of a body-pump person,’ she added, then hated how she sounded. ‘Well, I went with Frieda, my friend from work, a couple of times a few years ago,’ she confessed. ‘But then things got so busy and . . . ’

‘It’s hard to make time for ourselves,’ sympathised Jennie. ‘But important.’

‘OK,’ said Alice, not really understanding.

‘Relax your shoulders away from your ears,’ said Jennie.

Alice pushed them down. ‘No need to force them, just relax.’ Jennie looked at her, and Alice felt she was failing an assessment.

‘OK, no problem. Let’s roll them forward and then backwards first to release the tension.

Lift them up to your ears and then let them fall naturally.

’ They both listened to Alice’s body make crunching sounds.

‘That’s better,’ said Jennie, sounding unconvinced.

‘Now, let’s stretch up to the sun. Work at your own pace. Deep breath in . . . ’

Alice did her best to follow, but her mind was on the comet.

They’d seen no sign of it yet. It could still be on its way, but at the same time, she hadn’t seen the other elements of the sky as clearly as she used to.

The telescope was as fixed as she could manage, but some elements would never quite align in the same way again.

Much like herself, she realised, as she got to her feet then attempted to reach for her toes. ‘Wherever you get to is fine,’ said Jennie, watching her struggle. ‘It’s about the journey, not the destination.’

Maybe she should see the stargazing in the same way, Alice pondered as she hung down, her head facing her knees.

She was loving being out under the stars again, reconnecting with old celestial friends.

Why put pressure on herself to find something new – and set herself up for failure – when there was so much gorgeousness to explore?

It was as if she were bringing her target-based work mentality to her hobby.

Hobby. The word felt like an understatement. Was that what it was? She took a deep breath in as instructed and reached her arms upwards. There was a time when it had been her life.

But that time was over. And for good reason.

Alice followed Jennie’s instructions as best she could, stepping one foot back, and then the other, then lowering herself onto her belly with an unintentional grunt.

She could see a small piece of carrot hiding under her mother’s kitchen cabinet, accompanied by some unidentifiable crumbs and a very dried-up pea.

Its pitted surface made her think of Callisto, one of Jupiter’s moons and the most cratered object in the solar system.

She exhaled, accidentally blowing the pea away from her. It rolled out of view.

Callisto had been battered by impact after impact, but it remained, in Alice’s mind at least, beautiful. She imagined frosted peaks contrasted with deep, dark chasms. And possibly an ocean concealed under its icy surface.

She made her way into what Jennie called downward dog, and was treated to a view of her own navel, also looking rather pitted. She stepped her feet forward as instructed, and reached up to the skies again.

Undiscovered secrets. Hidden potential. Mysterious objects.

She might not discover the truth about Callisto’s core, but if there was a chance to see her grandfather’s comet, she had to take it.

And she couldn’t let anything stand in her way

*

Alice lay on her back at the end of the class and stared at the ceiling. A fleck of paint was peeling off, and she could still see the watermark from the bathroom above when her brother had accidentally left the bath running one time.

‘Wiggle your fingers and toes, stretch out and then roll to one side,’ said Jennie. ‘Then come back to a seated position.’ She smiled at Alice, her hands in prayer. ‘Namaste.’

Alice copied her movements, feeling faintly ridiculous in the praying pose.

‘How are you feeling?’ asked Jennie after a respectful pause. ‘You did brilliantly.’

‘I do feel better,’ said Alice, moving her head from one side to the other as she explored her new range of neck movement. ‘A bit looser.’

Jennie beamed at her. ‘I’m so glad.’

‘I feel inspired too,’ said Alice. ‘I’ve had some new thoughts about how to spot that comet.’

Jennie’s smile widened. ‘I always say that yoga releases creativity. Was it the shavasana?’

‘I think it was actually a shrivelled pea under the kitchen cabinet,’ replied Alice.

‘Oh,’ said Jennie. To her credit, she kept her smile. ‘Whatever works.

Alice frowned at the figures in front of her as they sat at the table they’d set up outside her grandfather’s shed. It was cold but clear again and the air smelled fresh. She loved nights like these. She checked the notes again.

‘You’re sure you can’t see the cluster?’ she said. She could see her breath on the air and wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck.

‘Absolutely,’ said Berti. He was dressed as if for an Arctic expedition in two coats, scarf, hat and gloves. ‘Seeing is great, but I can’t make it out. Check if you like.’

‘I trust you,’ said Alice. She rubbed her gloved hands together for warmth.

‘Is it a problem?’

‘If we can’t see that, then I’m not sure we’re going to be able to spot the comet,’ she said. ‘I’d already factored in the increased distance, but I hadn’t considered the potential change in size. Chunks might have fallen off from the sun’s radiation pressure. It could be smaller than it was.’

‘But it might not be.’

‘Is might good enough?’ She spotted a mouse poking around under the table, likely drawn by crumbs from the biscuits they’d enjoyed earlier with their tea. He was lucky Basalt was curled up inside on Sheila’s lap.

‘No,’ said Berti, decisively. ‘Can we buy a new telescope?’ he asked. ‘I know I’m not meant to ask you, but I have saved twentyfive pounds and seventy-eight pence. It’s hidden in a secret shoe under my bed.’

‘It’s not the money that’s the problem,’ said Alice, feeling her privilege in being able to make such a statement.

‘A standard telescope wouldn’t give us the range either.

To be sure, I think we’d need something much larger and more sophisticated.

Something like the professionals use. Those take months to be delivered, and weeks to set up. ’

‘We don’t have months. We don’t even have weeks.’

‘I know.’ Alice watched the mouse, who had found a crumb and was sitting back on its haunches to eat.

‘Then what will we do?’

She bit her lip. ‘I suppose we could ask to use one,’ she said. ‘One that’s set up already.’

‘Is that possible?’

‘I do have a connection.’

She didn’t want to go back there. She really didn’t.

But she had to.

‘I’ll need to make a case,’ she said. ‘But . . . ’ She hesitated. Overhead, an owl hooted. The mouse looked up, then dashed away into the hedge. ‘But my old university might, just might, be willing to help.’