TRACY BUCHANAN
Published by Avon
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2015
Copyright © Tracy Buchanan 2015
Cover Design © Lisa Horton 2015
Tracy Buchanan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007579396
Ebook Edition © July 2015 ISBN: 9780007579402
Version: 2015-07-28
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Praise
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Acknowledgements
About the Author
How Far Would You Go for the One You Love the Most?
About the Publisher
Join the readers who love Tracy Buchanan!
Praise for THE ATLAS OF US
‘The best book I’ve read in a long time’
‘Full of secrets and surprises’
‘One of the hot summer reads of 2014’
‘Kept me hooked’
‘A captivating story’
‘Will keep you guessing till the end’
‘Beautifully written, exciting and unpredictable’
‘A gripping journey packed with adventures, secrets, struggles, devastation, but also courage and love’
‘Each page brings a new revelation’
‘A fab summer read to take on holiday’
‘When it was finished, I wanted more’
‘I don’t have enough words to describe how fantastic it is’
‘I totally recommend it’
‘If you thought you knew what was coming next you were wrong’
‘A thrilling ride’
‘Wow! What a book!’
‘One of the best debuts of 2014’
‘Found myself going to bed early just so I could read more’
‘Can’t wait for her next one!’
‘A beautifully atmospheric page turner’
‘I was enthralled’
‘I heartily recommend it’
‘Easily one of my top reads of 2014’
‘My goodness, what a spellbinding book’
‘I found myself sneaking off just so I could read the next chapter’
‘Extremely powerful’
‘Raw emotions that fill your heart’
‘Engaging, passionate, romantic and full of heart-warming and heart-wrenching moments’
‘I am highly anticipating her next book’
‘One of the best books I’ve ever read’
‘I simply loved it’
‘I highly, highly recommend this book to anyone’
To Paul and Jessica, my brother and sister
Prologue
Busby-on-Sea, UK
March 1977
Faith lay still, the rain wetting her face and bouncing off the soft skin of her outstretched palms. She heard voices, footsteps, but couldn’t move, couldn’t call out. She looked up at the soaking tree branches above. If she narrowed her eyes slightly it almost looked like she was underwater, floating under a submerged tree…
Wouldn’t that be wonderful, discovering the drowned forest she and her sisters had spent their summers searching for? She remembered the first time she showed them the map she’d made. Three years ago. She was sixteen, so naïve then, so excited too. She’d hurried down the beach, the pebbles stretching out before her, the sky bright blue above, sun hot and hazy. When she caught sight of her sisters, she slowed down. She liked watching them when they were like this, quiet and still. Her thirteen-year-old sister, Charity – the youngest of the three – lay on a towel, chin tipped up towards the sun, eyes closed, wild black hair a tangle above her head. Her sunburnt legs stretched out from faded denim shorts, her halter-neck top matching her red knees. She was at that confusing age between girlhood and womanhood that Faith remembered so well.
Sitting behind Charity on a large white rock, her pale knees tucked up to her chest, was Hope. She watched the sea pensively as it foamed against the beach, the end of her pen in her mouth, notepad open in her other hand. The swimsuit she was wearing – an old one of their mother’s, swirling colours of green, red and blue – and the turquoise swimming cap that hid her long red hair made her look more like thirty than fifteen.
Faith quickened her step towards them, bare feet scrunching pebbles, the object of her excitement hidden behind her back.
Hope peered up first, face lighting up when she saw her older sister.
‘How’s the poem going?’ Faith asked her.
‘I’m stuck on the colour of the sea.’ A frown puckered her pale skin as she turned to look back out towards the sea. ‘It’s such a strange colour today, not blue or grey or green.’
‘Ribbons,’ Charity lazily murmured without opening her eyes. ‘Blue, grey and green ribbons.’
Faith smiled as she sat down next to Charity, pebbles warm beneath her bare calves.
‘Ribbons. I like that. You’re not so useless after all, Charity,’ Hope declared, scribbling in her notepad as Charity stuck her tongue out at her.
‘I’ve got something to show you both,’ Faith said.
Charity opened one eye, squinting up at her sister. ‘Please not another type of snorkel? Because honestly, they all look the same to me.’
Faith laughed. ‘I promise it’s not.’ She looked over at Hope, impatient. ‘Come on, I want to show you both together.’
Hope put her hand up. ‘Wait, I have one more line to write.’ She finished scribbling then snapped her notepad shut, shouting, ‘Finished!’ Then she jogged over to them, pulling her swimming cap off and raking her fingers through her wavy red hair as it fell around her thin shoulders.
‘So,’ Faith said as Hope joined them. ‘You know we’re going to travel the world when we’re old enough?’
Charity and Hope exchanged a smile. Faith always came up with fun adventures.
‘As Daddy pointed out, we can’t visit
every single country in the world,’ Faith continued. ‘That would take us a lifetime. We need a focus.’
‘I quite agree,’ Hope said as Charity nodded.
‘Well, I’ve decided what our focus will be.’ She took a deep breath, looking at each of her sisters in turn, drawing out the drama.
‘Oh come on, Faith, don’t torture us,’ Charity said, bouncing up and down on her toes in anticipation.
‘We should focus on visiting submerged forests!’ Faith declared. ‘I was looking through the photos from Mum’s field trip last week in Austria, they’re beautiful!’
Charity went still. ‘Submerged what?’
‘You never listen when Mum tells us about her trips,’ Hope said, rolling her eyes.
‘They’re forests that disappear beneath the sea over time,’ Faith explained.
‘Mrs Tate read a poem in class about a whole town that got flooded in Wales after I told her where Mum was going,’ Hope said. ‘You can still see the remains of its forests when the tide goes out.’ She flicked through her notepad then tapped her finger on a page. ‘Here it is. “When waves crashed on the sea-shore / with thunder in its wake / The bells of Cantre’r Gwaelod / are silent ’neath the wave.”’
‘So these forests are a bit like Atlantis?’ Charity asked.
‘Kind of,’ Faith said. ‘But minus the buildings. And they’re not just beneath the sea. You can find them in lakes and rivers too. There’s one in Austria that only appears in the summer when the snow melts. The water floods the trees, and even a park bench. I found a book in the library about them, and drew a map of all the forests I could find in it.’
Faith pulled out what she’d been hiding behind her back and laid it on the towel. It was a large and rather beautiful drawing of the world map, tiny illustrated trees dotted in different locations. At the top, in Faith’s pretty looped handwriting, was: ‘World Tour of Submerged Forests.’
The three sisters bent over the map, hair trailing across it, dark, red and blonde. They traced their fingers over the trees then all peered up at one another.
Charity smiled. ‘This is so cool, Faith.’
Faith’s pretty face lit up. ‘Isn’t it? I can collect samples from the trees as we travel. I’ll be a marine biologist by then anyway.’ She looked at Hope. ‘And you can write poems about them.’ Hope nodded, grey eyes sparkling. ‘And Charity, you can—’
‘Sunbathe after each dive?’ Charity suggested.
The three girls laughed.
There was the sound of crunching pebbles. They all looked up to see their friend Niall approaching. The top half of his wetsuit was around his waist, exposing the tanned skin of his chest. His face was very tanned too, his blue eyes even more vivid as a result. He looked like he’d grown up in the weeks since they’d seen him last. Faith supposed he wasn’t the annoying little boy they’d first met on this beach four years before. He was fifteen, after all, nearly a man.
She noticed Charity staring shyly at him, her cheeks flushing. Clearly Charity had noticed the change in Niall too. Hope on the other hand was oblivious, rolling her eyes as she always did when Niall appeared.
‘Come join us, Niall,’ Faith said, beckoning him over. ‘We’ve decided to do a world tour of submerged forests.’
Niall crouched down and looked at the map. ‘There’s a submerged forest off Busby’s coast, apparently.’
Hope looked at him cynically.
‘Seriously. A fisherman saw the branches of a tree during a storm.’
‘That’s hardly proof,’ Hope said.
‘But it’s something,’ Charity said, jumping up and shading her eyes as she looked out to sea. ‘I’d love to see it.’
Niall smiled at Charity. She bit her lip, looking away. Hope shot her a warning glance, but Faith smiled. It was nice, watching the way they were together. Niall was a good kid, despite his troubled background. It wasn’t his fault his parents drank too much and lived on the grim estate at the other end of Busby, was it?
He pulled a pencil from the small blue rucksack Faith always carried around with her and quickly drew a little tree over Busby-on-Sea on the map.
‘If we find it, it can be the first forest we visit,’ he said.
‘We?’ Hope replied.
‘Yeah, who else will teach you all to dive properly?’
The three sisters looked out to sea, the waves crashing and receding before them. Then Niall picked Charity up, throwing her over his shoulder and running into the sea with her as Faith laughed.
The happy memory dissipated. A tear slid down Faith’s cheek. She was so cold, so frightened. Her sisters would find her though. They’d see her bed was empty and they’d come looking for her. Then she’d tell them every little thing that had happened during the past few weeks and they’d figure it all out together, because that was what they always did.
No more secrets, she thought to herself.
She closed her eyes.
Chapter One
Willow
In the middle of the Aegean Sea, Greece
August 2016
My friend Ajay reckons the Aegean Sea is named after Aegea, queen of the Amazons. My aunt Hope disagrees. She says it’s named after a famous sea goat.
I know which one I prefer.
In fact, I feel like I’m channelling a female warrior when I do dives like this, all swaddled up in my diving ‘armour’, ready to do battle with the sea and unearth its treasures. I feel it now as the dive boat we’re on bounces over the waves, the sea spreading out around us, the island of Rhodes just a shimmer of land behind us.
‘Nearly there,’ Ajay says, smiling at me. Without him, I’d have never got on to this wreck dive. I smile back, grateful.
One of the other divers who’s with us – an Australian called Guy, all blond hair and muscles – paces the boat, frustrated. ‘I might just jump off this boat and swim there myself if it doesn’t get a move on.’
The rest of the crew laugh.
I haven’t worked with Guy before but I’ve worked with divers like him, all bravado and testosterone. I can guarantee that by tonight he’ll be telling me stories of all the times he’s nearly died diving wrecks. Usually that’s a sign of someone who puts their ego above competence.
I throw Ajay a ‘where’d you find this one?’ look. He mouths back, ‘He’s good.’
We’ll see.
‘You dived a cruise ship before?’ Guy asks me.
‘Not a cruise ship,’ I reply, standing on my tiptoes as I crane my neck to see any sign of the site.
‘Willow dived the Russian tanker with me,’ Ajay said.
Guy looks me up and down. ‘Oh yeah? Pretty risky salvage dive. Big payout though, right?’
‘Not bad,’ I murmur.
That was a good job. I was in between contracts in Brighton at the time, whittling away the money I’d accrued from my last gig on a North Sea oil rig. I’d seen the tanker on the news and wondered if the commercial diving company Ajay worked for would be hired to salvage it. It looked like a risky dive, lots of wielding and moving of heavy equipment…lots of opportunity for that equipment to tumble on top of the crew. When Ajay called asking if I was free to work on it, I hadn’t hesitated. It wasn’t just the job, it was Ajay too. We’d clicked straight away when he was my diving instructor. He’s one of the good guys – and he never once tried it on with me after a few too many beers.
‘This job will be risky too,’ Guy says, eyes lighting up. ‘Why’s it been allowed to stay under for twenty years, anyway?’
‘The cruise company went bust so couldn’t pay to salvage it,’ one of the other divers shouts over. ‘The Greek authorities couldn’t afford it either.’
‘I heard a mystery benefactor stepped in to pay,’ Ajay says.
I look at him. ‘Really? You didn’t tell me that.’
‘Just found out this morning, Foivos told me,’ he says, gesturing to the old Greek guy captaining our ship.
‘How many casualties?’ Guy asks.
‘A hundred and eleven died,’ I say.
‘Rogue wave, right?’ Guy says. ‘Dived a ship in the Atlantic Ocean that was taken down by one of those. Must’ve been big news at the time.’
‘Very big news.’ I pick up my stabiliser jacket – or stab jacket, as we call them – checking it all over.
‘The rich dude who owned it died too, didn’t he?’ Guy continues. I give Ajay another look. This man talks too much. ‘Man, I can’t wait to get under.’
Ajay shoots him a look. ‘Remember to keep the excitement in check. Safer that way.’
‘Yep, you won’t get much diving done when you’re dead,’ I say.
‘You didn’t tell me what a firecracker we have on our hands,’ Guy says to Ajay. ‘Was she this bad when you were training her?’
‘Worse,’ Ajay says, smiling.
‘I am here, you know,’ I say.
Ajay looks contrite. ‘Sorry, Willow.’
‘You will be sorry when I kick your arse at table football tonight.’
Everyone laughs. This is what I’ve learnt working as a diver the past few years. Let them know when they’ve gone too far then lighten the tone, no hard feelings. The commercial diving world is tight and it’s hard to fit in, especially as a woman. I manage though, I’ve even made some good friends, my ‘tribe’, as I call them.
Guy catches my eye and shoots me a sexy smile, his blond hair hanging in his eyes. I ignore him. Ajay thinks I’m too fussy when it comes to men, comparing them all to my dad. But it’s hard when every time a man looks at me, I think of the way my dad looked at my mum when they were young.
One of my earliest memories is of us all sitting in our huge garden. I watched my parents gaze at each other beneath the willow tree I was named after. Then my dad noticed me watching them so he pulled me into his arms, telling me he loved me over and over.
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