The Missing One

by Lucy Atkins

  I glare back. ‘Aren’t you even going to speak?’

  The half-smile vanishes. ‘Oh, I knew you’d be difficult about this.’

  I give my head a little shake. ‘What? No. I’m sorry. What?’

  ‘Oh come on.’ Her voice is flat and somehow off-kilter. It’s a voice I’ve never heard before and it chills me more than the freezing air or the draught rattling the floathouse windows. ‘You shouldn’t have come, Kali,’ she continues. ‘This has nothing to do with you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She sent him to me. She didn’t want you here too.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about? Who sent who to you?’

  ‘She wanted me to know that he’s back, that’s all. Because she wants me to be free of all this – everything! I mean, my God, just look at him.’ She gestures at Finn like a proud grandmother. ‘He’s back, isn’t he? He’s alive.’

  I cover Finn’s head with one hand. ‘You’re not making any sense, Susannah.’

  ‘Oh, you shouldn’t even be here.’ She sounds impatient. ‘Fretting, fretting. I’m going to take care of him, don’t worry. I’m not going to let anything happen to him, not this time. Oh no. And to be honest, he’s more at risk with you, isn’t he? I mean, my God, you can’t look after him – you don’t want him. You let the child pick up shards of glass, you ignore his cries, you leave him in the dark in thunderstorms, you lock him in bedrooms … ’ She looks at me and frowns. ‘This time I’m going to save him. And I’m not going to let you, or anything else, get in the way of that. You should have gone back to England where you belong.’

  I stare at her, and a chilly feeling spreads in the pit of my stomach. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Susannah. None of this is even slightly—’

  ‘I have to show him to Jonas,’ she snaps. ‘When Jonas sees that his son is back he’ll release me. That much must be obvious, surely, even to you?’

  ‘What? Who? Who is Jonas? Release you from what? This is nonsense … you’re talking nonsense. Are you ill?’

  ‘Oh just stop! Stop – stop!’ She puts her hands over her ears and glares at me. ‘Stop it.’

  ‘Susannah, this is … you’re not making any sense—’

  She drops her hands and speaks slowly, leaning down towards me as if I’m an idiot child. ‘She. Sent. Him. To. Me.’

  ‘My mother?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But my mother is dead, Susannah!’

  ‘She knows that his father needs to see him.’

  ‘Finn’s father is in Oxford, Susannah. He’s in England.’

  ‘Oh no. His father,’ she fixes her colourless eyes on my face, ‘is right here.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ I look up at her. My arms tighten around Finn’s tense little body. ‘You’re completely insane.’

  Through the window behind her, I can just make out the flickering yellow light of Sven’s boat as it vanishes around the headland.

  Chapter fifteen

  Susannah drops her hands and strides across to a wood stove.

  ‘So,’ she says in that deadened voice. ‘What on earth am I going to do with you now? You weren’t supposed to follow us here. How the hell did you find your way here?’

  The glow of the logs through the window of the wood stove casts a reddish light on her skin. She bends down and wrenches the iron handle; the metal shrieks. Her mouth is grim and set. Sparks fly out as she tosses a log in, and smoke billows into the room. She slams the stove door shut again. The wasp clasp at the base of her neck glints as she turns to face me again.

  ‘Susannah, listen. I think you’re confused. I think this is—’

  ‘Jonas needs to see him.’ She cuts me off. ‘Why can’t you get that? He’ll forgive me when he sees that his son is safe. She understands that. Only now you’re here messing it all up – you weren’t supposed to come here.’

  ‘You honestly believe that my mother – my dead mother – sent Finn to you?’

  ‘Of course she did! It’s an act of love, don’t you see? To release me from Jonas. That’s what’s so amazing about her. She understands everything.’ She glances at the ceiling as if my mother is there, presiding benevolently over this mad mess.

  ‘Who is Jonas, Susannah?’

  She stares at me. ‘You,’ she says, firmly, ‘are not supposed to be here.’ The crease between her brows intensifies.

  ‘No. Actually, I am definitely supposed to be here because you took my child. You took my baby.’

  She is silent, for a moment, staring at me as if I am a puzzle to be solved. Finn grips my neck and I pat his back in circles. ‘Shh.’ I look up at her. Instinct tells me that I have to lose the outrage. ‘Honestly, Susannah, you’re really not making any sense,’ I say, in a slightly headgirlish voice that I don’t quite recognize. ‘I think you’ve—’

  ‘Stop!’ she barks. ‘Stop talking. You’re making everything so … so … complicated.’

  ‘It’s not complicated at all, really. It’s very simple. He’s my son – and you took him.’

  She raises a hand and points a finger at my heart. I close my mouth. But she doesn’t move or speak. For the first time I notice that the dogs aren’t here. I’m used to them being next to her, or nearby. Where are the dogs? I glance around. But of course she couldn’t bring them here, on two boats, to the furthest edge of nowhere. Then I remember Maggie mentioning that Susannah dropped the dogs off at the bakery.

  She seems to have gone into a trance. She has dropped her hand to her side and is just standing, eyes shut, swaying gently as the stove roars behind her. My jeans are wet from the wave, and it is so cold here. Rain lashes the window and the wind moans outside; I can feel the draught on the back of my head and neck. But Finn seems warm at least. I can feel, just by the hand I’m holding under him, that his nappy has been changed recently too. She obviously hasn’t harmed him.

  I just have to get us away from her – from this place. But where could we possibly go? Sven is long gone. Maybe there are other people somewhere on this island, but unless they are right next door I am not going to find them in the dark with a storm blowing in.

  There is a low sofa next to Susannah, covered in some kind of brownish blanket. Above it on the wood-panelled wall is a gallery of framed photos. I remember that this is my mother’s house. Surely nothing bad could happen to us here?

  I edge away from the window. Susannah doesn’t move. I can see the doorway that leads back into the kitchen. Maybe I could get in there and grab a knife or something. If she is dangerous I might need to physically protect Finn. The thought makes a shiver run through my body. I feel sick again. There is no way I could possibly fend her off – she’s not only taller and heavier but far stronger than me.

  Her eyes snap open, as if she’s listening to my thoughts.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  I stop. ‘Nowhere.’

  ‘You stay where you are.’

  I pat Finn’s back, and sway with him. ‘He needs some milk. Has he eaten? Did you feed him?’

  ‘Of course I did! What do you think I am? He just had milk.’

  ‘Are you hungry, love?’ I say to Finn. He looks up at me with big eyes and shakes his head.

  ‘There,’ she says, archly. ‘See?’

  A floorboard beneath my foot creaks, and then I feel it give – I whisk my foot off it but for a split second I picture the sucking sea and sharp rocks beneath the floating house. If Finn and I went through this floor we’d plunge into freezing water with our backs against the seabed, and the belly of the house pressed on our faces.

  I have to stop being so fearful. I have to think.

  ‘Have you got a phone?’ I say. ‘Because I should probably call my sister to let her know I’m OK. I called her from Raven Bay, when you took Finn, so she knows I’m here. She knows exactly where I am. They all do. Ana, and Sven … ’

  ‘Huh? They do? Well. Nobody’s here now, are they? And no, there are no phones.’ She puts her head on one side. �
��Well, actually, that’s not true. I think Jeff over the other side of the island has one. But … ’ She shrugs. Then looks right at me, with a half-smile. ‘That’s a way away.’

  A dark shape shoots out of the sofa cushion behind her, scuttles madly through the sofa legs, and into the furthest corner of the room. ‘Shit!’ I yelp. ‘Jesus Christ, what was that?’

  She doesn’t even twitch.

  I point at the sofa. ‘Oh my God, there are rats here, Susannah. Was that a rat? I can’t believe you’d bring Finn here. This is a nightmare. It’s freezing. It’s damp.’ I look around, at all the candles. ‘Is there even electricity in this house? There isn’t electricity, is there?’

  ‘I’ve kept it just the way she had it.’ Susannah shrugs. ‘Though of course in those days the generator worked. Yes, you do have to be kind of careful here, Kali. Watch your step. The rocks, in particular, are quite perilous.’

  I look at her. She looks back, steadily.

  ‘But Maggie said this is your bolt hole.’

  ‘Ah. So it was Maggie who sent you here. Idiot.’

  ‘She said this is your sanctuary. This isn’t a sanctuary, Susannah, it’s a bloody wreck – this place is falling apart.’ I take a step or two closer to the kitchen, and glance in.

  There is a candle on a peeling yellowish cabinet, and next to it a box of food – I see the Cheerios logo and a bag of apples, a box of Animal Crackers, a big glass jar of something – pickles – and a Horizon organic milk carton. These are groceries she bought today. She planned this. She shopped for it. She dropped the dogs off. Took some of Finn’s clothes. She must have packed it all up while I was sleeping on her sofa. My sleep. What did she put in that cup of tea?

  ‘You don’t belong here,’ she says.

  ‘Actually, this place is probably legally mine,’ I snap. ‘But don’t let that bother you.’

  ‘Yours?’ she says. ‘It’s Gray’s, technically, but we don’t need to get into that, do we? This place is the last place on earth Gray would ever want to come to.’

  I think of my father’s warnings.

  She stares at the dark window, the lashing rain. I can’t make out her expression. She might even be smiling. The shadows have pooled in her eye sockets and I can’t see her eyes any more. Her cheeks look sunken and there are deep lines on either side of her mouth. She turns her head, slowly, towards me.

  Instinctively, I cover Finn’s head with my hand. But she goes across to the sofa and, leaning one knee on it, she reaches up to the wall and unhooks a picture.

  ‘He was so good-looking, wasn’t he?’ She gazes at it. ‘That’s what hoodwinked her, you see?’ She steps towards me, holding out the picture. I can see a man with a beard in a woollen hat, standing on the deck of a boat. ‘She never could see how dangerous he was.’

  ‘Who? This man? Who is he?’

  ‘This?’ She holds it up to me, smiles, then looks at it again. ‘It’s Jonas, of course.’ She gazes at him. Another gust of wind hits the floathouse roof and the whole structure shudders.

  ‘But who is Jonas, Susannah?’

  ‘Oh come on, Kali. Jonas started this whole mess.’

  ‘Oh. Then … but … ’ I squint across at the photo. In the dim light I can’t see him clearly, but he is wearing a yellow all-weather suit. And finally it hits me: of course. This has been staring me in the face the whole time. My mother didn’t leave my father for the whales, she left him for Jonas – the whale researcher. This handsome bearded man.

  I can’t believe this has not occurred to me before. ‘My mother ran off with this man – the whale researcher? Jonas? They were lovers?’

  ‘Oh Kali.’ She shakes her head. ‘Are you seriously telling me you haven’t even worked that out yet?’

  ‘I’ve been a bit preoccupied,’ I snap back. ‘What with you drugging me and kidnapping my son.’

  Immediately I regret my tone. She moves rapidly across the room, holding the photo flat on her body. I shrink back against the wall, squeezing Finn to my chest, covering his head with my hand. Candlelight flickers in her white eyes. ‘Don’t give me that bullshit.’ She grits her teeth. She holds up one finger, close to my nose. ‘Don’t.’

  I force myself to lift my chin and stare back at her, even though I want to cower, or better still, flee. ‘What do you mean?’ I say.

  ‘Oh, you know.’

  ‘Actually, I really don’t, honestly, but … OK. Look … ’ I edge sideways. I have to calm her down. Something is misfiring in her brain. ‘Susannah, it’s OK. Listen, maybe you can just tell me what happened up here. I’d really like to get it straight. Are you saying my mother left my father and had an affair with this whale researcher, Jonas, and then it somehow went wrong and she went back to my father? Went back to California? Is that it?’

  ‘Ha. Yeah. Went wrong. You could say that.’

  ‘And she left you too?’ I try to speak gently. ‘Is that what this is all about? She hurt you too?’

  ‘Me? She didn’t hurt me. She needed me. Someone had to protect you from him.’

  ‘Me?’

  Her eyes flicker over my face, and she frowns. ‘No. No. Not you. Of course not. I’m talking about Elena. And you. Both of you. All of you.’

  ‘So, you had to protect us from this man – from Jonas?’

  She is staring at the picture again. She is breathing hard as if holding all this in her head is a huge effort.

  ‘He was dangerous? Jonas was dangerous?’ I think about my mother’s safe routines, her Sussex life, her periods of deep depression, her moods. ‘What did he do to her, Susannah?’ I glance into the shadows of the kitchen, half expecting a big bearded figure to appear in a yellow suit. ‘Where is he?’ I say. ‘Where’s Jonas now?’

  She doesn’t answer.

  ‘Susannah. What did Jonas do to my mother? You have to tell me.’

  ‘It’s not what he did,’ she says, ‘but what he was capable of doing.’

  ‘So he didn’t do anything? He didn’t hurt her?’ I feel something release in my skull, as if someone has loosened a metal band around it. ‘OK. What happened then? Did you persuade her to go back to my father? Is that why Jonas needs – needed – to forgive you?’

  Again, she says nothing. I can see thoughts, maybe memories, tugging at the muscles on her face.

  ‘Where is Jonas now?’ I try to keep my voice soft. ‘He’s not up here, is he, Susannah?’

  The tip of her nose is reddish. Violet thread veins map her cheeks. Her hair is wild and her fingers, clasped around the picture frame, are red raw. There are lines of dirt under each fingernail. She drops one hand to her side, and her fingers begin to tap rapidly against her thigh.

  ‘Susannah? Can you hear me?’

  ‘She upped and left just two weeks after she met him. I mean – who does that? Can you believe that? Two damned weeks!’

  ‘My father must have been really upset.’

  ‘Gray? Oh, he was destroyed.’

  This is hard to imagine. My father has always seemed so unreachable, positioning himself somewhere beyond the petty demands of emotional involvement. My mother’s death is the only time I’ve ever seen him vulnerable. It is hard to imagine him as a young man in California, abandoned and distraught. ‘So – she really fell in love with Jonas?’

  ‘Jonas was very persuasive.’ Her fingertips tap harder, faster and then, as if taking its nervy cue, her leg begins to jiggle. I hug Finn tighter. ‘He was idealistic. Moody. Intense. Totally obsessed with his orca-mapping project. He had a God complex. He was going to save the world and I guess she was going to be his little handmaiden.’

  ‘OK, I definitely can’t imagine her as anyone’s little handmaiden.’

  She stops twitching and tapping. ‘Well, yes, you see, that’s the first reason it could never work.’ She says this almost anxiously, her eyes searching mine for affirmation. ‘It really was never going to work out, was it?’

  ‘Did my father just let her go?’

  ‘She’d already
gone! She crept out like a criminal while he was away. Of course, it was a monumental mistake. Monumental.’ She starts the jiggling and tapping again.

  ‘Maybe it was just something she felt she had to do? I mean, she was very young, wasn’t she? People do make mistakes, don’t they? And she made the right decision in the end because she loved my father, they were … content.’ I can’t say happy. Happy is not a word that fits my mother.

  ‘You told me you wanted to know everything,’ she sighs. ‘But you really don’t, do you, Kali?’

  ‘What? No. I do. That’s why I’m asking you all these questions.’ I shift Finn to my hip, keeping my arms tight around him. My back is beginning to ache. I stroke the hair out of his eyes and kiss him. ‘It’s OK, love.’

  She looks down at the photo again. ‘I always knew he’d try to hurt her. I always told her he would – that’s why I stayed as close as I could. I wasn’t going to let it happen, not to you.’ She’s talking to herself now. ‘Not to my Elena.’

  ‘But, you said he didn’t hurt her.’

  She fixes her white wolf eyes on my face.

  ‘What did he do, Susannah? He did something, didn’t he? Just tell me what it was. Where is Jonas now?’

  ‘He’s dead,’ she spits. ‘Jonas is dead.’

  ‘He died?’ I feel relief flood my limbs. Finn is so heavy. I shift him to the other hip. ‘OK, but you said … something about you coming up here to see Jonas?’

  She laughs – a thin and shivery sound. ‘You want to know the whole story, don’t you? And you won’t let up till you get it. Your mother’s daughter. Well. Fine. Fine! I’ll tell you what happened! They were photographing a new family of orcas and a storm came in. It happens all the time up here – like this one coming now; a polar storm, just closes in, almost no warning.’ She claps the frame against her leg and I jump. ‘Seventeen-foot tides, massive winds. The seas up here are dangerous. Dangerous!’ – she shouts it – ‘People die every year out there. Every year. He drowned! OK? Jonas drowned!’

  ‘Is that what you mean by my mother getting hurt?’ I ask, as gently as I can. ‘Her grief?’

  Susannah is muttering something; I can see her lips moving, as if she’s consulting an invisible companion.