Claire took a deep breath. ‘I can’t.’
‘Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s fine. I’ve learned to accept it.’ She realised then she really had. It didn’t hurt to say it out loud like it used to. The pain was there but it was distant, like an echo.
‘You have Milo and Holly though, don’t you, they’re your little family?’ Nora said. ‘Holly adores you and I can see you adore her. And as for Milo, he’s your core, and you his.’ She paused a moment. ‘I was wrong about Milo, you know. I realised that after seeing him give evidence at the inquest into Erin’s death.’
‘I think a lot of people get him wrong.’
‘But not you, you see him for the good person he is. That’s what Holly said. You help each other know who you are, even when you’re going off-song.’
‘Marching off the map,’ Claire said. Hadn’t Jay said something similar? And yet, if Milo was her core, why did things keep going wrong between them?
Nora smiled to herself. ‘I like that, marching off the map. I suppose I’ve been doing that for a long time now.’
‘Who’s your core?’
‘My daughter, Louise. It’s always been my beautiful darling Louise. What a fool I was not to see that. I’ve been too obsessed chasing a ghost all these years.’
‘What was Erin like?’ Claire asked.
She hadn’t realised she wanted to know that until then. But Erin had been there all the time, from the moment she and Milo had met, the secret that burned bright. And Erin had loved Milo too, as Claire did, desperately.
‘She was beautiful and fragile,’ Nora said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Like a child, really, fascinated by everything from tiny insects to the shape of a cloud. She used to be so carefree, dancing and singing and telling me not to worry so much about things when all the time she was the one who worried too much.’
Claire hardly knew Nora but looking at her now, seeing how calm and composed she was, she couldn’t imagine her being a worrier.
Nora stepped towards Claire, smiling slightly as she lifted the gold typewriter necklace Jay had given her. ‘This necklace makes me think of the old typewriter Erin used to practise on in the room we shared. She always said she’d get a job as a secretary to a rich managing director and he’d sweep her off her feet.’ She sighed as she dropped the pendant back against Claire’s skin. ‘But instead she met a poor farmer’s son with a penchant for guns.’
‘How did Erin and Dale meet?’
‘He was posted out in Dublin and we met him on a night out. We were just sixteen and had pretended we were staying at a friend’s house. Instead, we used the birthday money I’d got from my nan and got a coach to Dublin, dressed up to the nines, nowhere to stay. Dale was at the bar of the first nightclub we visited, holding court with all his soldier friends. As soon as he saw Erin, he stopped talking and that was it. I could see it in his eyes. She was going to be his and that was that.’ Her face hardened. ‘She was swept away by his bravado, his boasts about inheriting his parents’ land. Erin fell for every word. They were married a month later.’ Nora laughed bitterly. ‘Boy, was Erin disappointed when she discovered the land Dale was talking about was a crappy little farm in the middle of nowhere and she’d be stuck there on her own while he toured overseas.’
Claire thought about how it must have been for Erin, alone and disillusioned at such a young age. No wonder she turned to Milo.
Nora’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Now she’s gone for ever. Yet seeing Holly, it’s like Erin is still alive, they’re so alike. And that terrifies me because I’m so worried Holly will go the same way. I feel this awful guilt about Erin, like I should’ve tried harder to make amends after our argument, marched to that bloody farm and forced her to speak to me. Maybe I’d have seen how desperate she was; maybe I could’ve brought her back to mine, looked after her.’ Her voice cracked. ‘But you can’t turn back time, can you? Instead, all I can do is make sure her daughter doesn’t meet the same fate.’
Claire thought of the story brewing back home about Holly. ‘I’m worried things aren’t going to go very well for Holly over the coming days.’
Nora frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Claire explained about her atlas being stolen by Nathan Styles and the story he was writing as a result. Nora shook her head, her dark eyes sparking with anger. ‘Nathan Styles left a message on my phone the other day,’ she said. ‘Not the first time, either. Ever since Erin’s body was found, he’s been hounding me for her story. He’s a nasty piece of work. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Milo’s looking for him.’
‘So Nathan Styles is still on the island?’
‘I think so. I better leave you to it,’ Claire said, gesturing towards Nora’s painting.
Nora followed her gaze. ‘I think I rather like it without an eye, don’t you?’
Claire smiled. ‘It’s different. Are you going to stay here?’
‘I’ve booked a flight back to the UK for the morning after Boxing Day.’
‘Have a safe flight. It was good to finally talk properly.’
Nora smiled. ‘Yes, it was, wasn’t it?’
Claire went to walk away then paused, turning back to her. ‘Happy Christmas.’
Nora lifted her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Of course, it’s Christmas Day, isn’t it? Funny the rituals you forget when you’re travelling the road less travelled.’
‘What are your plans after this?’
‘I think it’s time I found my core again,’ Nora said, smiling. ‘I think I’ll return home to my daughter.’
‘You do that,’ Claire said.
When Claire got back to the hotel, Holly was waiting for her.
‘Milo’s here,’ Claire said as soon as she saw her. ‘He’s going to try to help us.’
Holly looked around her, her eyes frantic. ‘Where is he?’
‘He’s gone to find the journalist.’
‘Is he coming back?’
‘That’s what he said.’
But by the time darkness fell, there was no sign of Milo. Holly was bitterly disappointed, and Claire realised she was too. But then, in the early hours, a sound outside woke Claire. She sat up in bed, heart hammering against her chest. She’d dreamt Milo was there, right there with her in bed. She reached over, swept her hand over the sheets but it was just her, alone. Then she noticed a streak of shadow outside the window. She got out of bed and opened the door.
He was standing outside her room, staring out to sea, his rucksack over his arm like he might leave any minute. His dark eyes travelled the length of Claire’s body, the look in his eyes making it difficult for her to breathe.
‘I think I made things worse,’ he said.
‘You found Nathan?’
‘Yes, in a bar, drunk. I punched him.’
‘Oh, Milo.’
‘He wouldn’t listen to me.’
‘So what next?’ she asked.
‘Holly and I disappear off the face of the map.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I can’t let Holly get prosecuted for this. We can just disappear, she can dye her hair, I can—’
‘Run away again?’ Claire shook her head. ‘No more running away, Milo. Holly needs help. Bottling things up, pretending they never happened… we know now that’s the wrong path to choose. It’s time for you two to stop running from the truth and try to live some kind of life together.’
He thought about it for a few moments. ‘Okay, maybe you’re right. But it shouldn’t just be me and Holly. We need you too, the three of us together.’ Milo gently took her hand. She tried to resist him by stepping away. But it had been so long and her whole body craved him, every fibre and every pore. ‘I know how you feel about me, I can see it in your eyes,’ he said.
‘You’re right. I love you. Always have, always will. And I believe you when you say the lies are over.’ Milo smiled, moving closer to her, putting his hand on her face. But she gently pulled his hand away. �
��But I love myself too. I didn’t go to Exmoor all those years ago just to figure things out with Ben and me; I did it to find myself, find my path. And now I finally feel like I’m finding my feet, I’m terrified they’ll be pulled out from beneath me.’
‘I helped you find that path,’ Milo said softly. ‘We’ve been travelling it together the past few years.’
‘But when you were on it, it was cracked and full of lies. I suppose I’ve got used to a simple, clean path.’
‘I told you there are no more lies,’ Milo said, his face intense. ‘You know all of me now and I’ve learned so much about myself through your eyes.’
And she through his, she realised then. She’d gone to Exmoor so confused about her future as a divorced infertile woman. But within just a few hours of being with Milo, she’d begun to see a new path stretching out before her. And with each new experience they had shared over the years, that path had grown stronger and stronger, despite all the cracks. She wondered what it would be like without those cracks.
As Claire looked into Milo’s eyes, she realised she wanted to find out. She loved him so much, could feel it in every part of her. It was like Nora said earlier: he was her core.
And so, as the sea roared in the distance and the moon sat watching from above, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. The kiss they shared felt different, somehow, because it wasn’t burdened with secrets, nor weighed down by lies. And wherever their new path led them, it didn’t matter because they’d be together as they marched off the edge of the map.
25
Ko Phi Phi Don, Thailand
2004
In the short walk from the pier on the south of the island to the area where Holly and Claire’s resort is, the scenery gets harder and harder to look at. Palm trees lie strewn across the sand, clothes tangled in their branches, and whole shards of concrete point up into the night sky, the force of the wave so strong on this stretch of beach, it even took whole walls with it. In the distance, there’s a large group of Thai people holding a vigil as they stand around a bonfire with candles in their hands, chanting some kind of Buddhist prayer.
‘The map on the leaflet suggests the resort was here,’ Sam says.
Except it isn’t a resort any more. The black and white marble floor of what may have once been the reception hut is still there, but parts of it are smashed, making it look like a wrecked chessboard beneath the moonlight. In the distance are semblances of what may have once been bungalows, bed frames jagged in the dark, and large TVs on their sides, the moon and stars warped in their shattered glass.
I take a deep breath, looking towards the carnage and trying to figure out where we go from here. Then I notice a curved rock standing nearby, a little offshore, surrounded by a clutch of more rocks. I pull Claire’s atlas out, finding the drawing of the rock I’d found next to the map of Thailand with a girl standing on it.
‘It’s the same shape,’ I say, holding the drawing up to it. ‘Do you think it could be the view from Claire or Holly’s bungalow?’
‘Maybe.’
I stare at what remains of the bungalow that once stood there. It’s not as devastated as the others, sheltered by the rock. But the wave still got to it, meaning Claire might well have met her fate right there before she was found and taken to that makeshift morgue in Krabi.
What about Holly?
I stride towards the rock as Sam follows. Three crumbling walls remain, a bed frame on its back at the centre, a green fishing net tangled around its upturned legs. A palm tree is lying across its front and a suitcase is bent over one of the taller walls, clothes spilling everywhere. Sam pulls out his phone and sweeps the light over the room as we step over the palm tree to get in. There’s a jumble of clothes, more debris, smashed glass. I imagine Claire here, watching aghast as the wave came for her, my mum’s bag and the atlas inside clutched tight to her chest.
I go to put the atlas back in my bag, but something falls out then, swirling down and landing on the ground. I crouch down, see it’s a torn note smudged by water and dotted with sand. Sam shines his phone on it and I can just about make out what’s written on it:
… I want to leave behind are the memories and guilt from…
‘Wait, there’s someone there,’ Sam says, shining the light away from the note towards what remains of the bungalow.
I gasp.
In the corner is a figure sitting cross-legged on the floor.
‘Mum?’ I whisper, my heartbeat a cascade of hope-filled beats.
The figure slowly turns and I step forward, the sound of the waves nearby seeming to stutter and stop.
26
Ko Phi Phi Don, Thailand
2004
‘This is officially the best scrambled egg on toast I’ve ever had,’ Holly said.
Milo smiled. ‘Told you this place did the best English breakfast in Thailand.’
They were sitting outside a tiny café in Tonsai Village, the bustling heart of Ko Phi Phi Don. The sea was just out of sight beyond a patch of palm trees and the area around them throbbed with over-enthusiastic shopkeepers trying to sell their wares to tourists fresh from the ferry. The café they were sitting in had just seven wooden tables scattered beneath a low bamboo roof; a turned-over boat acted as a till. People chattered and laughed around them while others sat quietly eating, no doubt nursing hangovers from the night before.
As Claire watched Milo and Holly eat while Alex took photos nearby, she felt a sense of relief. She knew they had a lot to deal with considering the article was due to be published tomorrow, their efforts to track down Nathan Styles and her atlas having been fruitless. But finally everything was out in the open and they were dealing with this together, no more secrets or lies. That was enough for Claire. Milo caught her watching him and he smiled, taking her hand.
Yes, this felt right. No more running away, no more hiding. Time to face reality, whatever that might turn out to be.
‘We could stay here, you know,’ Holly said, looking around her. ‘Buy a house, maybe even a café like this to make money?’
Claire and Milo exchanged a look. They knew what Holly was trying to do.
‘We spoke about this earlier, Holly,’ Milo said gently. ‘We need to go home.’
Holly looked down at the table, her brow creased.
They were all quiet for a while then she peered up at them. ‘Do you think Nora’s still here? I’d like to see her before we go. I feel bad for the way I was with her. She was Mum’s best friend, after all, and she’s only been trying to help.’
Claire looked through the trees. ‘She told me she was flying out tomorrow. Her bungalow’s just a few minutes’ walk away. We can both go if you want?’
Holly nodded, her face sombre. Not long after, they were both standing outside Nora’s bungalow. Claire peered in the window, saw the blinds were up, the room empty – and that huge painted face staring out at her, its one strange eye seeming to look right into her soul.
‘Maybe she’s at breakfast?’ Holly said.
‘Maybe. Why don’t you write her a note, give her your number or something?’
Claire handed her notepad and pen to Holly. Holly paused a moment, nibbling on the end of the pen as she thought about what to write. Then she quickly scrawled a message before giving it to Claire.
‘Is this all right?’ she asked her.
Nora,
Thank you for looking over me the past few months, and for how much you cared for my mum. You were the closest thing she had to family really – apart from me, of course. I hope we can keep in touch. My number and email address are below.
Take care, Holly x
Claire gave her a quick hug. ‘It’s very sweet.’
‘She seemed sad when I spoke to her in that bar the other week. I hope whatever was on her mind sorts itself out.’
Claire thought back to the conversation she and Nora had had the day before. ‘Me too.’
Something else from her and Nora’s chat came back
to her then. She impulsively reached into her bag, finding her necklace and wrapping it around the door handle, the turquoise jewels of the typewriter glinting in the rising sun: a small token of thanks for looking out for Holly. Jay wouldn’t mind; he’d bought her so much jewellery in the past.
They walked back to the café and, just as Holly went to sit down, her phone started ringing. She rummaged around in her bag and pulled it out, frowning. ‘Five missed calls, bugger.’ She put it to her ear then her face lit up. ‘It’s Nora!’
Milo and Claire exchanged a smile.
As Holly talked to Nora, a huge smile spread across her face. ‘Oh my God, that’s amazing! Thank you, thank you so much… yes, of course. Just five minutes. Yes, yes, we’ll see you there. Oh Nora, I don’t know what to say.’ She smiled, tears filling her pretty eyes. ‘Yes, Mum would be very grateful.’
She put her phone down and grabbed Milo’s hand in excitement as Alex jogged back over. ‘Nora got the atlas back from Nathan Styles!’ she said. ‘She just took it off him and ran. My note’s in there too,’ she added, her face flushing.
Relief flooded through Claire as Milo looked up at the sky, a big smile on his face.
‘Thank God,’ Claire said. ‘I know Nathan Styles still has his story but it’s something, isn’t it, getting my atlas back?’
Milo nodded. ‘It’s something. Without your note, Holly, the police won’t have much to go on. Good old Nora. I wonder what she did to get it off Nathan Styles?’
‘Not punch him,’ Claire said, raising an eyebrow.
‘She got my note a few minutes ago and has been trying to call,’ Holly said. ‘She’s headed straight for your bungalow, Claire, and she’ll meet us there.’
‘I’ll get the bill.’ Claire stood up to get the waiter’s attention then paused, peering out to the sea. It looked like it was miles away, shimmering under the morning sun, a huge expanse of beach dividing it from the café. ‘Wow, the tide’s gone really far out – look.’
The Lost Mother: An absolutely gripping and emotional read that will have you hooked Page 34