annambates also requested, "The stars look especially lovely tonight."


All week, John had been in a strange mood, jumpy and secretive. Anna simply couldn't fathom it. She wasn't missing any anniversaries pertaining to them. While they'd been dating for long enough that a proposal wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility, that didn't feel right either.

By Wednesday, Anna gave up trying to figure it out. She had other things on her mind.

Twenty three years ago today, her father had passed away. She could still remember the phone call that her mother had received, the anguished cry that had torn itself from her throat. She'd been almost too young to understand, a little girl of six. A steelworker, he had always worked hard to provide for his family, and his death had torn them apart. Anna would never forget crouching by the kitchen door while her mother and grandmother discussed it, discovering that his head had smashed like an egg against the floor. The description had brought such a vivid image to her mind that she'd been sick right there, giving herself away, and it was forever burned into her memory. She still sometimes had nightmares about it, waking up drenched in sweat.

It was much easier than it had been at the beginning, of course, but it still weighed heavy on her throughout the day. By the time she got home from work, all she wanted to do was pull on her comfiest pyjamas and curl up on the sofa. John, much to her surprise and irritation, seemed to have other plans.

"You never want to go out," she groused. "Why today all of a sudden?"

"Can't a man have a change of heart?"

"Yes, but I don't feel like it tonight. We'll go tomorrow."

He pouted at her. "Please. We won't be long, I promise."

Scowling, she relented, and he bundled her into the car. They were silent for most of the journey, Anna not in the mood to talk and still more than a little bit angry that he was being so insensitive to her wishes, but as they drove further and further out into the countryside, her curiosity was piqued.

"John," she asked at last, forced to break her vow of silence, "where are we going?"

"You'll see," was the cryptic reply, and he would say no more than that.

She didn't have to wait long to see. A few more miles down the road, John pulled off onto the grassy verge and turned off the ignition.

"We're here," he said simply.

Anna gazed out. All that surrounded them was a field. "Where exactly is 'here'?"

John didn't answer, reaching over to the back seat and grabbing a bundle before clambering out of the car. He rounded it to her side and opened the door, extending his hand for her to take. It was then that she realised that the bundle was a blanket.

Wordlessly, he led her into the field, letting go of her hand so that he could smooth the blanket out. He lowered himself gingerly, the old war wound obviously twinging, and she took her place beside him, settling herself against his shoulder when he opened his arm for her. She still didn't have a clue what any of this meant, but there was something soothing about being out in the open, under the vast heavens.

"The stars look especially lovely tonight," John said at length.

"They do," Anna agreed softly. "I've always loved them." She turned her head slightly, so that she could see his face better. "Will you please tell me what this is about now?"

"I thought you might have got it."

She shook her head. John took her right hand in his, extending their arms up in front of them as he folded her fingers until only her index pointed right up above their heads.

"What are these?" he asked softly, making shapes with the twinkling points.

"Stars," she said, and then the realisation hit her. Her left hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God."

Because they were lying together on an old blanket, taking in the world above them. Stargazing. She'd loved stargazing as a small child. It had been her activity with her dad, her small body tucked close to his, him holding her hand just like John was now and tracing Orion's Belt and pointing out Sirius while she stared in wide-eyed wonder at all the beauty that lay before her. They'd done it weekly, just the two of them, and it had come to an abrupt, cruel end with his passing, the recollections painful. She'd told John about it a long time ago, pressed naked against him in the comforting darkness, the words feeling right as they'd spilled from her lips, like being cleansed after a confession. She didn't think he would have remembered such a trivial detail from her childhood. And yet here she was, more than twenty years on, with a different man, and the faded joy came flooding back, just as the tears filled her eyes.

John had turned to look at her, and now he pushed himself up a little, concern lining his face. "Anna, are you all right? I'm sorry if I did wrong bringing you here. Should we go?"

She shook her head fiercely, her voice shaking a little. "No, let's stay. It's lovely, I just…I wasn't expecting it."

"I would never want to replace the memories you made with your dad," he told her earnestly. "I don't want to compete. But I thought this could be a nice way to remember him today. I don't know if he would have liked me or thought me good enough for you, but I would like the opportunity to get to know him with you. You can teach me what he passed on to you, and then maybe we can get an astrology book and learn more together, in his memory. Only if it's something you want, though."

Anna looked up into his anxious face. It all made sense now. He'd been planning this all week, meticulously organising a way to help her commemorate her father's passing. He couldn't have come up with a better one. She wound her left arm around his neck and pulled him down so she could kiss him. John smiled at last, settling down beside her once more. She moved their joined hands back to where they'd been before, and began to repeat the stories that she'd been told so long ago.

She knew that if her father was looking down on them now, he'd be smiling.