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A Sea of Stars
Kate Maryon


Two girls with two very different lives come together in this beautiful and moving story of friendship and family, by a major new voice in girls’ fiction.Meet Maya. She has a cosy, comfy life with her slightly hippy mum and dad by the sea in Cornwall. But as an only child, Maya feels smothered by her parents’ love and longs to be a given more freedom and independence; but what Maya wants more than anything is a sister.Meet Cat. She’s never known her dad and her mum’s an alcoholic and is not capable of looking after herself, let alone her 11 year old daughter. Cat’s spent her life protecting her mum and keeping some dark secrets; all she wants is to be left alone.But Cat and Maya’s worlds collide when Cat is taken into care and Maya’s parents make the life-changing decision to adopt her. Maya can’t wait to welcome Cat into the family and hopes that by having a sister, her parents might learn to ‘chill out’ and give Maya a bit more freedom. But Cat is angry and resentful and resists Maya’s attempts at friendship and soon Maya’s idea of a perfect family is blown out of the water.As tensions rise and secrets come out, will the girls ever become friends, let alone sisters?















Dedication


For Hayley, Sophie, Lucy, Georgina,

Janie and Tim…

for all the wonderful adventures we shared!

Beaches, campfires, tents, rain, sunshine, parks, oat burgers,

A303, M3, Stonehenge, swimming, theme parks, picnics,

Crimean wars, stories, sleepovers, mud, sand, forests and hills.

The kiss of your childhoods’ - still warm on my cheek.

Thank you for trusting a batty Sponge like me to take care of you!

I’m so relieved that no one actually did get blown off a cliff

or dragged away by a wave, and that you all survived to

grow into the awesome adults that appear before me.

I love you all so very much.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkyR9KsokYg

For Lily, Paige, Brooke, Ellie, Anna & Kitty.

For Doy & baby Jack x




Contents


Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books by Kate Maryon

Copyright

About the Publisher










I’ve wanted a sister forever. Even before Alfie was born. Then after him I kept wishing and wishing and wishing but she never came along. So I’m going to remember this summer holiday forever, even when I’m an old lady with grey hair and wrinkly skin. It’s hard to believe how much has happened between finishing school and starting back again tomorrow. It’s as if these huge hands came down from the sky, picked up my life, tipped it upside down and shook it, like one of those beautiful snow dome things. And I just stood there in the middle while everything got all mixed up and blurry. But then the snow started to settle and now I have to keep pinching my leg to remind myself it’s actually true. Here I am, on the beach, alone, waiting to catch some zabaloosh gnarly waves, and my mum isn’t even panicking. And I feel like squealing and jumping up and down because my sister, Cat, is actually clambering down the cliff to join me, with her surfboard under her arm. She’s actually getting in the water. We’re actually going surfing together. And you’re never going to believe it but six weeks ago I hadn’t even met her. I knew she existed but I’d only seen her face in photos and on the DVD, not properly in the flesh. I didn’t know her beetle-black hair smelt like custard or how loud and earsplitting her screams would be. I didn’t know how much she’d nibble-nibble-nibble on her nails. I had no idea how frustrating and irritating she’d be (and she really is frustrating and irritating sometimes). And I couldn’t have even imagined in my wildest dreams that the sight of her running across the sand towards me would make my heart unfurl like a huge pink flag to wrap her up in love.



Some people wish they had mystical powers so they could see into the future and know what’s actually going to happen. Or that there was this big book in the library where your whole life had been written down. Dad says everything is planned. He says it’s already mapped out in the stars and that we choose our life and our family and friends and everything that’s going to happen to us way before we’re even born, when we’re just tiny twinkling stars in the sky. Some people think its God that has this great life plan drawn out for us, or Buddha or Krishna or Allah – someone like that. That it was their huge great hands coming down from the sky and shaking up my life.

I don’t know if I believe any of that stuff. All I know is that, after everything that’s happened, things still aren’t perfect with Cat and me; having a sister is nothing like it was in my imagination and it probably never will be. But things are what they are. This is how it is now we’re sisters.










The first time I said the word ‘adoption’, it felt like I was drinking from one of Nana’s special crystal glasses. Like the word was something really precious, something to be careful with. But that was a whole year ago, so now it’s more like a toothbrush or a spoon. When Mum and Dad got married they planned for a really big family – you know, the ones that look like they’re about to burst out at the seams. The ones that have a million pairs of trainers by the front door and mountains of food in the cupboards. But, after Alfie, they’d been too scared to try for any more. It was kind of weird because we never really talked about it but the fact that I was an only child clung to the air like the saddest day in the world.

Then, a few weeks ago, Susannah, the social worker, phoned to say she’d finally found us this ten-year-old girl called Cat to adopt. Mum was so excited her knuckles turned white gripping the phone so hard. Dad’s eyes spilled over with tears and he hugged us both so tight I could hardly breathe. And I should have been excited; I should, because who wouldn’t be when their dream had just come true? And I tried really hard to smile about it, but I couldn’t get my lips to work properly. I just froze to the spot and my tummy clenched up as if my insides had turned into this big skipping rope and someone was knotting it up all tight. A million damselflies started whirring and fluttering in my throat, making me feel wobbly, like I might fall over and be sick.

“You OK, sweetie?” asked Dad. “You look a bit pale.”

I nodded. I picked up Peaches Paradise, my cat, hid my face and buried a little tear in her fur. I didn’t even know why I was crying. I just had this big crushing feeling in my heart, like someone had dropped a car on my chest.

A few days later, Susannah sent us a DVD of Cat that she’d made with Tania, her foster mum. Dad tipped popcorn into a bowl and Mum made us hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.

“Be careful, Maya,” said Mum, handing me mine, “and sip it gently; it’s still too hot to drink.”

I wished she’d stop treating me like a baby. I slid closer to Dad, dipped my finger in the chocolaty froth and licked it. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to spoil things. The sun was streaming through the windows, bouncing off the sea and it felt perfect, us all curled up on the sofa, together.

“She’s much smaller than I imagined,” I said, after a while. “I mean, I’m only two years older and I’m much, much taller than her.”

Mum nodded and wiped away a tear. “Just look at her, though,” she said. “She’s so cute! So sweet! Look at those big eyes, that shiny black hair. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Dad was spellbound. “I can’t quite believe it.” He smiled. “You know, after the whole adoption rigmarole and all those forms and red tape, a whole year later, here she is, at last – our new little girl!”

I gripped Dad’s hand and held my breath while we watched Cat on the swing, Cat sipping juice, Cat with her blue-black hair shining like a beetle’s wing. She was nibbling her nails and chatting to Tania about a big, fat snail that was slithering up the wall. She turned to us and waved. A teeny smile crept around her cherry red lips and I kept thinking, OMG, I can’t believe this girl is going to be my sister. My sister. My sister!

When the DVD finished, I let out my breath and Dad and Mum and me stared off into the distance for a while without speaking. My brain started whizzing at a hundred miles an hour. Seeing Cat on the DVD made her much more real than talking to the social workers about her, or making her the book about our family. The words that tumbled out of Mum’s mouth a year ago, when she’d read the newspaper article about adoption in Cornwall, had actually turned into a real live girl.

That night, I lay awake for hours trying to imagine Cat sleeping in the room next to mine. I imagined us calling out goodnight to each other and sharing secrets and stories. I imagined us giggling and messing about until Mum got so cross she had to stomp up the stairs and shout. I wanted Mum to shout. I wanted her to be a normal Mum who wasn’t treading on eggshells all the time, so afraid that something bad might happen to me. I giggled and imagined Cat and me brushing each other’s hair a hundred times like they do in The Railway Children. I saw us doing drawing together and playing. I’d teach her how to surf and make cupcakes and paper cranes.

I really did want all those things and I really hoped my imagination might make me feel happy and excited. But, with every new thought, the skipping rope inside me pulled tighter and tighter and a million more damselflies whirred. I looked out of my bedroom window at the bay below. The oily black sea was swishing the world to sleep and the lights from the village and the night sky reflected on the water, a twinkling sea of stars. I looked out and wondered about so many things. Then I yawned, snuggled down in my bed and pulled Peaches Paradise under my duvet. I held her close and whispered into her ear.

“Is it true what Dad says? Did I really choose Cat when I was just a tiny star? Did Cat choose me?”



And now it really, really is happening. There are no more days left to wonder because Mum and Dad have gone to meet Cat. I wasn’t allowed to go, so I’m with my best friend, Anna. Susannah said it was better this way, but I think that’s stupid. This is my family, but now I feel left out and pushed away and my tummy won’t stop whirring. I can’t tell Anna because, although we’re besties and we tell each other most things, she doesn’t understand about whirring tummies and worries. Anna likes to be happy, happy, happy. Her mum’s made us fish-finger sandwiches – our favourite – and we’re dipping them in ketchup and watching Dr Who. Anna’s goggling away and hasn’t even noticed that I’m not really watching; she can’t feel that my insides are all tugging and twisting.

Later on, when we’re busy making cupcakes for pudding, Anna looks at me. “Adopting Cat must be really weird. I’ve been thinking about it,” she says, “and wondering… aren’t you scared your mum and dad might like her more than they like you?”

A huge cold pebble grows in my throat and tears start stinging my eyes. I make a few big blinks to get rid of them and swallow hard. I keep stirring and stirring the cake mixture round and round and round. I’ve been worrying that Cat might not like me and that I might not like her. But I haven’t even thought about Mum and Dad liking her best.

“Do your mum and dad like your sister best then?” I say.

“Well,” says Anna, pulling herself up on the worktop and licking cake mix from the spoon, “they say they like us both the same, but anyone can tell it’s not true. Evie’s so little and cute, everyone loves her – they can’t help it.”

When we’ve finished decorating the cakes and have eaten three each with hot chocolate, we go into Anna’s bedroom to make paper cranes.

“I s’pose it might’ve been the same if Alfie was still here,” she says, “they might’ve liked him best too. Everyone always loves the baby of the family. It’s a fact.”

My eyes go all misty. I can’t see what I’m doing any more and I wish Anna would just stop talking. I’ve never felt like my mum and dad didn’t love me. My mum’s so panicked about me all the time I sometimes feel like she loves me too much. But maybe Anna’s right; maybe that’s why they’ve always wanted another child. I mean, I’m quite pretty, although my hair’s a bit wispy and wild, and I’m nearly top of my class at school, but maybe… I try and fold my paper crane into shape, but it goes all wonky. I scrunch it up and feel lonely inside, as if my whirring tummy has opened into this huge dark empty cave. I stuff another cupcake in my mouth to fill the big scary hole.

“I think they like Alfie best already,” I blurt out, spraying vanilla cake crumbs everywhere. “I know they love me and the social workers wouldn’t let them adopt if they thought there was a problem. But I can tell they never stop thinking about him. Alfie is always perfect in their eyes. Because he’s dead, he can never do anything wrong, and I’m doing wrong stuff all the time.”

“I think they should get rid of that shelf thing,” Anna says. “My mum thinks it’s a bit spooky to have all those pictures of him.”

“It’s just for remembering,” I say.

But Anna will never understand about things like remembering because her life has been simple and straightforward and normal, not all complicated like mine.

The first five years of my life were brilliant until the Alfie stuff happened. Then a big red bus nearly killed me when I was seven and, ever since, nothing’s been the same. My mum stresses about me being safe and well all the time and hates letting me out of her sight. I secretly think she’s worried I might die, but she’s never actually said it in those exact words. She wouldn’t even let me go on the Year Six residential week. She worried that my canoe might sink or the abseiling rope might snap. She was convinced the coach driver would fall asleep while he was driving and crash. It was really embarrassing. I had to make up some story about not being able to miss my nana’s seventieth birthday party. I couldn’t tell Anna because she’d just laugh. And I felt really stupid because I had to sit in with the Year Fives and do all my lessons with them for the week.

Mum really, really panics about me going surfing and she’s tried to stop me a million times, but Nana and Pops and Dad are on my side. She’s convinced I’ll come to some tragic end in the waves. She’d like me to sit quietly and read books or make mermaids with her or pots with Dad. And I try to understand because the Alfie stuff and the big red bus must’ve been really hard for her. But sometimes I think she doesn’t get that it’s been hard for me too.

When we’ve finished tea, Anna and I rush to the bay. My mum hates it when we go alone, but Anna’s mum trusts us. Anyway, Anna’s little sister, Evie, has an earache so her mum has to stay home with her. I feel a bit nervous, like my mum’s big eyes are somehow watching from way above me in the sky, like she can see that we’re alone.

Surfing is my best thing ever and today the sea is amazing. It’s so sparkling and clear that we can see little fish darting under our boards like silver streaks of lightning. It’s hard to explain what surfing really feels like, but close your eyes and just imagine that the rest of the world has disappeared. Imagine that nothing else exists or matters except you with your arms stretched wide, flying on top of a tumbling, unstoppable wave. An amazing white horse, with froth fizzing around your feet and the salt on your lips and the sun melting your face into bliss. Imagine surfing through blue, blue sky, through fluffy white clouds with the wind in your hair, to heaven and far beyond. Imagine being the wildest and freest girl alive, then times that feeling by a trillion and you might start to get what I mean. Dad says I must have salt water in my veins because I love the sea so much. The truth is, surfing’s the only time I feel free.

Anna and I surf until our arms and legs ache so much they almost drop off. Then we play mermaids. We swish around in the waves and clap and sing, “A sailor went to sea, sea, sea, to see what he could see, see, see, but all that he could see, see, see, was the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea,” about a thousand times. Then Luca paddles up and starts splashing us like crazy.

“Are you gonna enter the surf competition at the end of the holidays, Luca?” I ask, when the splashing has stopped.

“Dunno,” he says. “Dad won’t say when we’re going back to California. I like it here; it’s totally cool.” He smiles, his eyes bright sapphires in the sun. “Paddle battle?”

So we have this amazing paddle battle and then Anna and I gang up on Luca and we splash and splash until he holds his hands up in surrender. It’s funny to think that Gus from the Surf Shack Café is Luca’s actual uncle, especially when they sound so different. Luca’s Californian accent makes Anna and me laugh so much I’m scared my sides will split or I’ll pee my wetsuit and turn the entire sea yellow. And for a while I forget all about Cat and the adoption and Mum finding out we’re alone because everything fades away.

Then I spot Mum and Dad clambering down the cliff, waving their arms like mad.

“She’s perfect, Maya!” shouts Mum, smiling and racing towards me. “Absolutely perfect! You’re going to love her, I know it!”

“And she’s so excited to meet you, sweetheart,” says Dad, folding me into a big papa-bear hug. “We’ve got great plans for tomorrow!”

“You must be so excited!” squeals Mum, dancing on the sand.

I nod and tug my lips up into a smile, but I don’t truly feel it inside. My head starts clanging with worries, my tummy starts whirring and churning again and the rope twists tight. Mum goes on and on about Cat so much she doesn’t notice Anna and I are alone; she doesn’t even notice I’ve been surfing without a grown-up watching. You’d think I’d be pleased about it, but somehow it feels like she doesn’t care. And deep, deep down at the bottom of my heart, I wish Mum had never found the article on adoption. I wish we could change our minds.




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