My Map of You

by Isabelle Broom

  She started in the bathroom, chasing away any thoughts of Aidan by crashing perfume bottles and shampoo dregs into a rubbish sack. A thorough search of the bathroom cabinet elicited no further photos, but she couldn’t shake off the inkling that she would find some more if she just kept looking. By midday, the downstairs of the house and the bathroom were sparkling, with every non-essential item either in a bin liner or a box waiting to be collected.

  In an attempt to get the place looking as good as possible for potential buyers, Holly also hung more pictures on the bare walls upstairs and refreshed the vase of flowers on the table. Throwing away the ones Aidan had left for her caused a slight pang, but she told herself not to be so stupid. She had half-hoped last night that he would follow her into the house, and had stood trembling by the closed curtains for a full ten minutes after she left him standing by the hedge. She pictured him yanking open the door and taking her in his arms, ignoring her protests and carrying her straight up the stairs. Aidan was no cave man, though, and Holly had eventually given up and headed to bed, where she had lain for hours, twitching with a mixture of longing and self-loathing.

  After rifling through every cupboard and drawer and even pulling them out to look down in the gaps behind, Holly had given up on the idea that there were any more secret photos hidden away. Collapsing on to the sofa downstairs with a frustrated groan, she reached for her bag and took out the hand-drawn map.

  As far as she could tell, her mum and Sandra’s ‘secret beach’ was close to a place called Korithi, which wasn’t far from where she and Aidan had drunk their beers by the beach a few days before. As she realised this, Holly let out another groan – it had taken a good two hours for her and Aidan to get all the way up there, and they’d been in the jeep. On her rickety old moped and with very limited local knowledge, Holly guessed it would take a lot longer. Plus, who was to say that she’d even be able to find this beach when she got there? She needed a full day now that using the jeep was out of the equation. If she set off at first light, she might just make it there in time to explore a bit.

  The realisation that she wasn’t going to spend any more time driving around with Aidan made her feel suddenly deflated. The energy that she’d pumped into herself that morning promptly whooshed out of her like air out of a sad balloon. She was done with tidying. Perhaps a visit to Kalamaki would cheer her up – one of those amazing Greek salads and a chat with Nikos. Yes, that was what she would do.

  As she sped off down the hill twenty minutes later, her hair twisting in the wind beneath her helmet, Holly immediately felt better. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Nikos when she reached the beach bar, and none of the other waiters could tell her where he was. Frustrated after driving all this way, she decided against lunch and instead took her bag a little way down the beach, past all the other holidaymakers, and settled down to read her book. The wind had dropped, and the sun was slipping lazily in and out of the drifting clouds, playing a game of hide and seek with the tan-hungry tourists down on the sand. Holly had positioned herself behind some shrubbery and from the beach she was completely hidden. It only took a few chapters in the soft sand and she was asleep, her head resting lightly on the crook of her arm.

  ‘Mum. Mum, you have to wake up now.’

  Holly had finally made her way from the hallway into the living room and was standing a few feet in front of the chair where Jenny Wright was slumped.

  ‘Mum, I mean it – this isn’t funny.’

  But Jenny Wright wasn’t trying to be funny; Jenny wasn’t trying to be anything. Jenny was dead.

  An empty bottle of vodka was on the carpet by her feet and Holly could smell stale vomit mixed with something like defrosting meat. Jenny’s hair was covering her face, but Holly could see that the skin around her bony chest was grey.

  She swallowed and took a step closer. She knew she should reach out and check her mum’s pulse, stick her fingers into her throat and clear her airway, but her hands seemed all of a sudden too heavy to move.

  There was a crash as the wind blew against one of the open kitchen windows, and Holly jumped as a sob escaped from her mouth. She fell slowly to her knees and started to weep.

  ‘Please, Mum – don’t leave me on my own. Don’t you leave me.’

  Holly woke with a start just as the first Greek storm of the summer crashed into life overhead. The thunder that had roused her from her nightmare hammered across the sky, providing a rumbling percussion to the fat raindrops that were pelting down on the top of her head.

  Thoroughly bewildered, she staggered to her feet just as a jagged stripe of lightning hurtled across the sky. Holly had never seen anything like it, and she gasped in fright. The beach was deserted now save for a few abandoned sun loungers, and the rain was coming down in what felt like solid waves. Her towel was already saturated, and Holly held it out at arm’s length as she scurried along the sand towards the restaurant. Her moped, which she’d parked in the middle of the car park, refused to start.

  ‘Shit!’ she swore, removing her helmet and trying not to hurl it across the stony surface in a rage. Looking in desperation in the direction of the taverna, Holly was greeted by bolted doors and closed shutters. Why the hell would they stay open in this weather? she scolded herself. Her thin vest and shorts were turning translucent under the relentless deluge and her feet slipped precariously around in her sodden flip-flops as she pushed the useless bike under the shelter of a nearby tree.

  She had two choices: stay here getting steadily soaked until the rain stopped, then try to get the moped working and drive back to the house, or leave the bike behind and walk back. As she deliberated, there was another clap of thunder that was so loud she felt her teeth rattling inside her head. This could go on for hours – she didn’t really have much choice.

  Hooking her flip-flops under two fingers and stowing her wet towel under the seat of her bike, Holly hung her helmet across the handlebars and then set off at a jog along the beach towards Laganas. The sea, which was ordinarily as calm as bath water, crashed angrily around her ankles. The shoreline was framed with white foam, as if someone had poured a generous dollop of bubble bath into the waves.

  Dodging clumps of driftwood and the sharp edges of pebbles as she ran, Holly panted with the effort of dragging her bare feet through the wet sand. Her hair was plastered to her face and her boobs ached as they bounced around beneath the flimsy support of her bikini top. She was acutely aware that she must look utterly ridiculous, but there was no one around to see her anyway. It was eerily quiet, in fact, as even the livelier bars at the Laganas end of the beach had pulled down their shutters against the storm.

  As Holly’s legs and lungs began to tire, her determination to get home started to wane. But she’d come this far – it would only take her twenty minutes or so to get back up the hill and into her hot shower. She couldn’t believe how fast the weather had turned – or how aggressively. She thought about her poor, sodden moped, abandoned all the way back in Kalamaki. She would have to walk all the way back tomorrow to retrieve it – that’s if she could get the poor old dear to start again.

  The rain wasn’t showing any sign of relenting, but Holly’s weary legs had started to burn with the effort of running, so she slowed to a halt and bent forward, her hands gripping her slippery bare knees as she gulped in lungfuls of air. She had almost reached the mid-point of Laganas beach, where the road came down and joined the sand. She debated the idea of trying to locate a taxi, but she could already see there were none in the usual place by the corner restaurant, and the idea of padding barefoot up the main road was hugely unappealing. She’d been lucky not to bump into anyone this far, but she doubted that would be the case by the time she reached McDonald’s.

  The canvas beach bag she’d brought with her was no match for the rain, either, and Holly thought forlornly of her mobile phone, which she knew had completely run out of battery. Then again, who could she call to come and rescue her? Certainly not Aidan – not after she’d made
such a fool of herself in front of him. And anyway, she hated the idea of having to be rescued by a man. She’d managed almost thirty years without a knight in shining armour, so she was damned if she was going to plead for one now, just because of a little bit of rain.

  Another sky-shattering clap of thunder rang out, as if it was mocking her. ‘A little bit of rain?’ she imagined the heavens yelling. ‘I’ll show you, Missy!’

  Holly had reached the road part of her journey now, but her wet flip-flops had slowed her progress quite considerably. The sheeting downpour made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead, and she kept stumbling from the edge of the tarmac into the grassy verge. When she was about ten minutes away from home, a car came hurtling round the corner at speed, narrowly missing Holly as she threw herself headfirst into the undergrowth with an indignant yelp.

  ‘Malaka!’ she screamed, putting to good use the Greek word she’d been taught for ‘idiot’. Her knee stung where she’d cut it open on some stones and a stream of blood was running down her leg. Just as she was scrambling back on to her feet, Holly became aware that there was something hidden in the grass beside her. Something small and wet, which was shivering uncontrollably.

  Forgetting about her wound, Holly knelt back down and slid her hands gently under the tiny, terrified body of a puppy. It was scrawny and dirty and its little ribs poked out all along its back, but as Holly lifted it closer towards her chest, it slipped out a tiny pink tongue and gave her a very determined lick on the nose.

  ‘Well then,’ she told it, smiling despite the horrendous situation they were both in. ‘I think we’d better take you home, hadn’t we?’ In answer, the puppy snuggled closer to her and ceased shaking a fraction.

  Having never had a dog or known anyone who did until a few days ago, Holly had no idea what sort of state this little creature was in. As the rain flew into her eyes and she felt the puppy’s tiny heart bashing away against her own, she realised gloomily that there was only one person who would be able to help.

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ Aidan had opened the door on the first knock, almost as if he’d been standing right behind it. His eyes widened as he took in her bedraggled appearance, bloody knee and, last of all, the quivering ball of wet fluff clutched in her arms.

  ‘Please help it,’ Holly thrust the puppy at him. ‘I found it in the bushes down the road. A car. I fell.’ She tailed off. It was the first time since she’d met him that he wasn’t looking at her in amusement – he looked deadly serious.

  Aidan pushed open the door and beckoned her inside, taking the puppy in one of his big hands and putting the other one in the small of her back.

  ‘Here,’ he produced a towel as if from nowhere and handed it to her. ‘Get your wet clothes off and dry yourself. I’ll, um, I’ll find you something to put on.’

  ‘I’m fine, really.’ The idea of stripping naked in Aidan’s house was making her feel uncomfortable for all the wrong sorts of reasons.

  As if to show how resolute she was, Holly started rubbing herself dry through her clothes, defiantly flicking her head over and shaking her wet hair from side to side.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Aidan glared at her.

  Phelan had padded over and chose that moment to stick his nose right into Holly’s crotch, earning himself a gentle kick from Aidan.

  ‘Come on,’ Aidan swallowed his laugh. ‘Let’s get this little one sorted out.’

  Holly followed him into the kitchen area, watching as he spread some newspaper on the table and placed the still-shaking puppy on top. Holly could see now that it was predominantly white, but with one black floppy ear and one brown. Its black nose was upturned and it had big brown eyes, which were now following Aidan’s every move as he crashed around from drawer to cupboard, eventually producing a small black holdall and placing it on the table beside the puppy.

  From her half-obscured position beneath the towel, Holly was able to watch in undisturbed detail as he efficiently checked the puppy’s eyes, mouth and paws, before using a small stethoscope to listen to its heart. After a few minutes of prodding and peering – all of which prompted no complaints from the patient – Aidan found another small towel and lifted the puppy into his arms, slowly rubbing it dry while making soothing noises into its mismatching ears. Holly sat down on the arm of the sofa. For some reason her legs were refusing to stop shaking.

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ he said eventually. ‘Just a bit shaken up. She’s far too young to have been separated from her mammy.’

  ‘She’s a she?’ Holly had found her voice at last.

  ‘Well, you know, I’m no expert …’ Aidan smiled for the first time since he’d opened the door. ‘Oh no, I am. That’s right, silly me.’

  ‘Sorry for bringing it – I mean her – here,’ Holly stuttered. ‘I didn’t know what else to do – I know you said they shouldn’t be domesticated and all that, but I couldn’t just leave her there.’

  ‘You did the right thing.’ Aidan smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes.

  There was a silence as they both stared across at each other. Holly tried not to think about how awful she must look – she was determined not to be the first to look away, as she always seemed to be. She didn’t want Aidan to think she was weak, even though being around him made her feel exactly that. And wasn’t it true, anyway? The first sign of trouble and she’d run here, to him. The thought made blood rush to her cheeks again, and she was glad when he lowered his eyes first to whisper more silly nonsense to the puppy.

  ‘This happens a lot,’ he said, breaking the tense silence and motioning to the tiny dog with a nod of his head. ‘She was lucky you found her – I don’t think she would have lasted more than a few days on her own.’

  Holly nodded. ‘What will you do with her?’ she asked.

  Aidan gave her a rather grim smile. ‘Well, I’ll ask around the island, of course, see if anyone’s missing her. But it’s likely she’ll end up with me.’

  ‘Really?’ Holly’s voice came out a few octaves higher than she would have liked.

  ‘At least for a little while, until she’s stronger.’ Aidan had lifted the little mutt up now and Holly tried her best not to melt into a puddle of warm goo as he kissed and nuzzled its face.

  Phelan, sensing that his master’s attention was firmly elsewhere, sauntered over to Holly and writhed himself happily against her bare legs, leaving a trail of drool as he went. He really was the most ridiculous dog, she thought fondly, stretching out a hand and stroking his shiny head.

  ‘He likes you,’ remarked Aidan, pulling a face when Holly looked up. ‘Okay, so he likes most people, but he definitely has a thing for you.’

  ‘Well, I have a thing for him too.’ The meaning lingering behind their words was not lost on either of them, and Holly very determinedly kept her eyes firmly on the dog.

  Aidan took a deep breath. The puppy had now curled up in the warm space under his chin and closed her eyes. ‘What is your story, Holly?’

  The abrupt change in subject shocked her.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, who are you? What are you really doing here? What’s your story?’

  ‘One question at a time!’ She tried to laugh him away, but his gaze was unrelenting.

  ‘The thing is,’ he went on, moving from behind the table and making his way over to where she was still sitting on the arm of the sofa, ‘Sandra told me she had a niece, but she couldn’t tell me much about you. Then you show up, all stroppy and defensive – what?’

  She was glaring at him.

  ‘Come on, you are both those things. In the beginning you were, anyway, but then I’ve seen your softer side too. Like this here, tonight, bringing this little lost puppy to me. It’s … Well, it’s confusing, that’s all.’

  ‘Maybe I’m just a confusing girl.’ Holly’s voice had become very small. She didn’t like how much attention he’d been paying to the way she behaved, but then a little voice in her head was also whispering to her tha
t she might just be a tiny bit thrilled about it at the same time.

  ‘You intrigue me,’ Aidan told her. ‘It feels as if you’re keeping part of yourself locked away out of sight. Like this business of you having a fella back home. Why didn’t you mention him before?’ He had sat down now at the opposite end of the sofa to her, and was still stroking the sleeping puppy with one thumb. Holly watched as he rotated it first one way, then the other. Not for the first time, she felt as if he was peeling back that protective shell she’d built around herself – and this time she was finding it harder to resist him. So what if he got a few fingers underneath? So what if he had a sense of the real her? She had been feeling more and more like the person she thought she’d always been ever since she arrived here. Zakynthos was drawing out something that she’d never been comfortable with before, and it was beginning to dawn on her that the something in question was herself.

  ‘The truth is,’ she said finally, daring herself to look at him. ‘The truth is that I have no idea what I’m doing here, either. Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know this place existed. I didn’t know that Sandra existed. I thought that I was all that I had left.’ She had to stop before her voice dissolved into a sob, and Aidan waited while she took a few deep breaths and stared hard at the opposite wall.

  ‘It’s hard to explain,’ she ploughed on. ‘But I feel as if there are answers in this place, on this island. Things that I need to know.’

  Aidan shifted slightly at her words. ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘That’s just it!’ Holly threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘I don’t know. I just have this feeling – a sense that something is waiting for me.’ Now that she was saying all this out loud, Holly realised that it had been on her mind for days, creeping into her subconscious like one of the bougainvilleas that ran up the side of the house.