The Lost Mother: An absolutely gripping and emotional read that will have you hooked

by Tracy Buchanan

  Claire walked back to her hotel room in a trance, Holly’s confession still in her hand. When she got to her room, she reached for her atlas and slipped the note into the paper pocket next to the map of Thailand before locking it and hiding the key in her pocket.

  She then turned to watch Holly dance on the beach, her red hair aflame on the horizon. Though she didn’t agree with how he’d kept it all buried away, all Milo had ever wanted was to protect and fix his daughter, just as Claire once wanted to protect and fix him. And as she sat watching Holly, she realised that’s all she wanted to do now. Protect Holly, fix her, make sure she became the woman she was meant to be.

  She didn’t want to be like a bull in a china shop, confronting Holly with no idea of how to get her help. So she took the next day – Christmas Day – to digest it all and give Holly a chance to enjoy the special day without bringing up her dreadful secret.

  The resort put on a traditional Christmas dinner over lunch, setting up a long table on the beach full of turkey, potatoes and even Brussels sprouts. As Holly ate, Claire watched her, thinking of how cruel life can be, to bring such tragedy into such a young girl’s life.

  With their bellies full of food and wine, they headed back to their rooms for a siesta, promising to meet again in an hour to watch the Christmas entertainment the hotel had planned. Claire was pleased for the chance to be alone. The night before, she’d stayed up, staring at the confession, trying to wrap her head around it. Now all she wanted to do was make sure all traces of it were gone, to go back to her room and burn it.

  But as Claire headed towards her room, she noticed her door was ajar.

  She hadn’t left it open, had she?

  She walked towards it, heart thumping, then felt relief flood through her when she realised her mobile phone was still on the side, her purse where she’d left it on the bed.

  But then she looked towards the desk where she’d left her atlas and froze.

  It was gone.

  Maybe she was wrong, maybe she’d put it somewhere else? She strode around the room, flinging items about, searching everywhere she could think of, but not finding any trace of it. Had it really been stolen? But why not steal her purse and phone too? Had someone broken in just for the atlas?

  She felt her phone buzzing and saw Jay’s name flash up. She felt a shimmer of guilt. To hear his confession of love to her after she’d rejected his advances had been so difficult. But it wouldn’t have been right to let things develop between them both; she’d done the right thing.

  She took a deep breath then answered her phone. ‘Hello, Jay. Merry Christmas.’

  He sighed. ‘Not so merry, I’m afraid. I’m hearing on the grapevine Nathan Styles has a story on Holly.’ He hesitated a moment. ‘It’s rather shocking, Claire.’

  He knew. But Claire didn’t say anything. What if he didn’t know the specifics?

  ‘You know too, don’t you?’ Jay asked her.

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘I have a friend who’s a sub on the paper Nathan writes for. I managed to bury a story about her father who’s a banker, so she owes me. As soon as she heard Nathan Styles had called the editor to hold some space, she called me. She knows you and I are good friends. How did Nathan find out, Claire? How did you?’

  That’s when it hit her. ‘Oh God, the atlas.’

  She explained about the atlas and Holly’s crumpled confession. ‘But would Nathan Styles really break into my room? He’s a journalist, for Christ’s sake, not a criminal.’

  ‘There have always been rumours he arranged for that actress’s laptop to be stolen, remember? And didn’t he rifle through your bins? He’s scum, Claire. He’d do anything for a good story because something of this magnitude means a spectacular bonus from his editor.’

  ‘But why did he come out to Thailand? He didn’t have a story before the atlas.’

  ‘My friend said he’d heard Holly tried to kill herself out here,’ Jay said softly. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘She’s in a vulnerable place,’ Claire said, thinking of what Alex had told her. Had one of her friends called the papers after she’d waded into the sea? Claire peered into the shadow of the palm trees nearby. ‘I had a feeling someone was following us the past couple of days. When’s the article being published?’

  ‘The day after Boxing Day. It’ll be their big post-Christmas splash according to my friend.’

  Claire felt her legs go weak and sunk into a nearby chair. ‘God.’

  ‘Good news is, Styles won’t have had time to file it yet. He’ll still be working on it, probably there in Thailand. Styles has always had a thing for lady boys. No point flying back to dreary old England when he can email it to his editor from paradise.’ He paused. ‘But once he gets back, he’ll have a duty to hand any evidence to the police. I presume he has other sources too, otherwise he wouldn't be able to get the article published based on just a scrap of paper. But it’s evidence for the police all the same.’

  Claire watched Holly put a paper hat on her head and pull a funny face at Alex. ‘Could they arrest Holly?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know, she was a child when she did it. She clearly needs help though, Claire.’

  Claire anxiously bit her nails. ‘I know. But having her story splashed all over the papers isn’t going to help the situation. What can I do, Jay?’

  ‘I’ve tried to do what I can, pulled in some favours, no luck. Next step is to speak to Styles himself, that despicable piece of crap.’ He paused a moment. ‘I can fly over if you want, help you find him? There are ways a greedy man like him can be persuaded to get a story dropped, even if he files it before I get there.’

  Claire’s shoulders slumped with relief. She wasn’t sure she could deal with this alone. ‘Thank you, Jay. That would be great.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll try to get a flight as soon as I can.’

  ‘But it’s Christmas Day, are you sure?’

  ‘Any excuse to get out of my father’s traditional Boxing Day party.’

  ‘You’re wonderful, you know, helping Holly like this.’

  ‘I’m not doing this for Holly, Claire. I’m doing this for you. I know how much you care for her.’

  When Claire put the phone down, she leaned over and put her head in her hands, the horror of what Jay had just told her engulfing her. Why hadn’t she just bloody burned Holly’s confession as soon as she found it?

  ‘Claire?’ She looked up to see Holly standing in front of her, the sun winking over her shoulder. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Claire took Holly’s warm hand in hers. She had to be prepared for the worst. ‘I know what really happened at the wedding in Exmoor, Holly.’

  Holly snatched her hand away from Claire’s, as if she’d set her fingers alight. She started shaking, eyes wide, face suddenly very pale under her tan.

  ‘I saw the note you pinned to the sky lantern,’ Claire said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to, it got tangled up in a palm tree.’

  Holly put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh God. Y-you must hate me now.’

  ‘I don’t hate you, I love you, Holly,’ she said, realising then she really did. ‘I locked the note in my atlas but someone stole it, a journalist. I’m so sorry.’

  Holly crumpled to her knees and Claire pulled her into her arms, whispering sorry over and over. People sunbathing nearby peered up, frowning at the two grown women crying in paradise.

  ‘I had to do it, Claire,’ Holly said, voice trembling. ‘He was going to shoot me, he said I was better off dead than in this horrible world. When Milo tackled him and he dropped the gun, I – I didn’t think, I just panicked and picked it up and before I knew it, the gun went off.’

  They were silent for a moment, Claire simply holding Holly’s hand.

  ‘I never wanted him dead,’ Holly whispered after a while. She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes wet with tears. ‘When Milo told me to say it was him who’d shot Dad, I just went along with it. I was so terrified, barely aware of what I’d done. An
d I’ve lived with the guilt ever since. Milo’s always been there for me, but he can’t help me now.’ Her face hardened. ‘Maybe that’s good. Maybe he can finally think about himself for once.’

  After a while, Alex appeared in the distance. Holly ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. Then something changed in the air; a shift in Claire’s skin; the soft hair on the back of her neck rising.

  There was someone watching her from a path of palm trees nearby.

  She turned, saw dark hair, tanned arms, a white scar that ran ragged over brown skin.

  Milo.

  24

  Ko Phi Phi Don, Thailand

  2004

  Milo was standing under a nearby palm tree dressed in grey shorts and a black vest top, a rucksack slung over his shoulders. As Claire looked at him, it was like the sun had dropped from the sky and was scorching her insides, sending her mind and heart and soul into overdrive.

  Milo stayed where he was for a few moments, eyes running all over Claire as though he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Claire asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  ‘I saw the photos of Holly in the press. I needed to make sure she was okay.’

  ‘Just like you’ve been doing all these years,’ she said, unable to help herself. ‘Making sure she’s okay, protecting her, taking the blame for her actions… I know what she did.’

  Milo’s eyes widened with shock.

  ‘I know everything, Milo. I know you’re Holly’s dad too; so does she.’

  His whole body slumped against the tree as he put his face in his hands. Claire’s heart went out to him and she reached towards him then let her hand drop to her side again. He peered up at her, his dark eyelashes drenched with tears.

  ‘You know,’ he whispered. ‘You finally know.’ There was relief in his voice, years of pent-up secrets finally being unburdened.

  ‘You should’ve told me,’ Claire said. ‘We could have shared the burden together.’

  He turned to look at Holly. She was sitting on the sand with Alex and hadn’t yet noticed Milo. ‘How could I?’ he said. ‘I couldn’t even resolve myself to it, seeing my daughter lift that gun and shoot my brother. I couldn’t comprehend how it could’ve got to that stage, for her to do it so coldly.’

  ‘What happened in those moments, Milo?’

  He took in a deep shuddering breath and it occurred to Claire this might be the first time he had said it out loud. ‘When I got into the marquee, Dale had his gun pointed at Holly. He said she was better off dead than living in this messed-up world. I ran at him, we fought and Dale dropped the gun. Holly grabbed it. Then…’

  He closed his eyes.

  ‘Oh, Milo.’

  ‘I took the gun straight off Holly after. She was paralysed with shock,’ he continued, eyes still closed, like he was replaying it in his mind. ‘I wiped it clean of her fingerprints and I told her it was me who’d shot him and that’s all there was to it. I made her hide under the table, and I pulled my brother into my arms.’ He opened his eyes. ‘Then you walked in. When I was given bail and could return home, I tried to talk to Holly but she refused to acknowledge what had happened; she was in complete denial.’

  ‘It’s such a terrible secret to hold inside.’

  Milo nodded. ‘Over the years, I’ve tried everything I can to help her. I couldn’t tell the police what she’d done, as she’d just end up in the system. But I thought I could help by keeping an eye on her, trying to talk to her about it. I arranged for her to see a therapist. But she just clammed up every time. Remember that argument you saw us having in the desert in Australia?’

  Claire nodded.

  ‘I was trying to get Holly to admit she was struggling more than ever with what had happened. It’s difficult enough for a child to deal with something so terrible but add teenage hormones…’ He sighed. ‘But she wasn’t having any of it, she just insisted on not talking about it.’

  ‘What about the fact Holly was your daughter? Why didn’t you talk about that?’

  ‘I hoped she didn’t know. Best she didn’t think she was mine, best no one did. She’d had enough to deal with already.’

  ‘You’re a good man, Milo – look at what you’ve done for Holly all these years, taking the blame, trying to help her.’

  ‘So you do think I’m a good man then, despite the lies?’

  ‘I understand some of the lies, you had to for your daughter,’ Claire said softly. ‘But the other lies – what happened between you and Erin, Erin’s death – are difficult to forgive.’

  He stepped forward, his eyes deep in hers. ‘I was terrified you’d leave me if I told you.’

  ‘Jesus, Milo, I told you everything about me, including the fact I’d never be able to give you children. Don’t you think I was frightened of the same thing?’

  ‘But that was your own personal secret,’ Milo said. ‘My secrets were tangled up in my family’s messed-up lives. But that’s over now, I swear, every secret is out, every lie in the open. I promise on Holly’s life.’ He took her hand and the feel of his skin against hers set every nerve on fire. ‘I love you, Claire. I’ve never stopped loving you. Please forgive me.’

  Claire avoided his gaze, trying to keep her wits about her. She couldn't fall into his arms like she always used to. Yes, she still loved him, but feelings weren’t enough. She was on her own path now, she was making something of herself, something she’d been so desperate for all those years ago when she first arrived in Exmoor.

  ‘Claire?’ Milo asked.

  ‘We have more important things to talk about,’ she said, letting her hand slip from his. She couldn’t make such a huge decision at that moment.

  He was quiet for a few seconds then nodded, jaw clenching. ‘What else do you want to talk about?’

  She told him about what had unfolded over the past twenty-four hours and his face went white. ‘Jay doesn’t need to come over,’ he said. ‘I’ll find Nathan Styles, it’s a small island.’

  He started backing away but Claire grabbed his wrist. ‘What about Holly? She’ll want to see you.’

  ‘I’ll come back.’

  ‘Will you?’ She realised then she wasn’t just asking for Holly, but for her too. Despite her resolve not to fall into his arms, she needed just a few more moments with him, a chance for some proper closure.

  His face softened. ‘Of course.’ Then he turned on his heel and jogged away.

  She leaned against the tree behind her and stared up at the blue sky through its leaves, Milo’s face still scorched onto her mind, his touch still making her skin glow. She stayed like that for a very long time until she started seeing someone else’s face in her mind.

  Nora.

  What was it she’d said the other night? You must tell Claire what you told me, it’ll destroy you if you don’t. Had Holly told Nora she’d shot Dale or was Milo lying again – were there yet more secrets? She needed to find out.

  When Claire got to the sweet little bungalow where Nora had said she was staying, Nora’s door was wide open and she was standing on tiptoes on a chair, sweeping her paintbrush over the wall. She was painting a large face – her own – and it was mind-blowing, a vibrant, torrid mix of red and orange, like flames.

  Nora sensed Claire standing behind her and turned, red paint dripping from her brush onto the floor below. She was wearing a long red skirt over gold sandals and a beaded vest top; her dark hair was twisted in a coil.

  ‘You’ll get fined for that,’ Claire said. ‘Though they ought to pay you. It’s wonderful.’

  Nora smiled and stepped off the chair, placing her paintbrush in a jar of water nearby and cleaning her hands on an old rag. ‘So you came.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I hoped you might when I told Holly where I was staying. I would have come to find you if you hadn’t. Would you like a drink?’ she asked, gesturing towards the small fridge nearby.

  ‘No thanks. Why did you come out here, Nora?’
>
  She looked out at the sea for a few moments. ‘I saw photos of Holly splashed all over the papers. Drunk, on drugs, whatever it was, she didn’t look right. I could see she was on a downward spiral. Most of all, I could see Erin’s fragility in her. I realised I couldn’t help Erin in the end, but I had a chance to help Erin’s daughter. So I flew out a few days ago and found Holly in a bar, drunk. Maybe that’s what loosened her tongue?’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  She stepped towards Claire, taking her hands. ‘It’s not my place to say. But you must ask Holly what really happened the night of that wedding in Exmoor. What she did.’

  ‘I know what happened.’

  Her hands dropped from Claire’s. ‘You know?’

  ‘Yes. Was there anything else?’

  Nora shook her head. ‘Just that.’

  Claire felt a shimmer of relief. Did that really mean there were no more secrets, that Milo had really meant it when he said all the lies were out in the open now?

  ‘So you’ll get Holly help?’ Nora asked Claire.

  ‘Yes, I’ll make sure of it.’

  ‘It’ll destroy her, you know, keeping it bottled up.’ She looked towards a photo of a blonde woman and two young girls. ‘Something I know a little bit about.’

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘My daughter Louise and my two beautiful granddaughters.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you had a daughter.’

  ‘No, neither did I.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Her eyes lifted to meet Claire’s and Claire could see they were full of pain. ‘I took her for granted, never really realised she means everything. I haven’t spoke to her for two years.’ She paused. ‘Do you have children?’