The Atlas of Us

by Tracy Buchanan

  His face flushed again and Claire’s heart went out to him. He was so enraptured by Holly. ‘No, it’s lovely, Alex,’ she said.

  ‘Anyway, one night, I woke to find Holly gone. I looked outside and saw someone just standing in the sea with water up to their waist … it was her.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought I wouldn’t get to her in time, the tide was so bad, but I did in the end. When I brought her back to shore, she wasn’t breathing. So I used the first aid stuff I’d learned at school and gave her mouth-to-mouth. I think I must have been screaming at her to wake up as her friends came out too.’

  ‘Jesus, Alex. You saved her life.’

  He nodded, blue eyes haunted with the memory. ‘When I asked her why she did it, she told me she wanted to die like her mum.’

  Claire’s eyes filled with tears. Someone pedalled towards them on a bike. The bike blurred in front of her, seeming to disappear. Alex grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the way.

  ‘You okay?’ Alex asked her.

  ‘Yes. So when did this happen with Holly?’

  ‘Just before I called you. I tried to get her to go home to Jen but she begged me not to make her. So I took her to Ko Phi Phi Don just to get her away from her so-called druggie friends. Then I called you.’

  The small wood-slatted pier appeared in the distance then. People were milling around on it, tanned and happy. Next to it, a wooden boat with Thai writing in bright yellow on its front bobbed up and down, a Thai man with long hair standing on its roof, smiling and beckoning people on. In the distance, the calm azure waves of the Andaman Sea lapped against white sands. Claire thought of Holly disappearing beneath those waves, just as Erin had disappeared beneath the Bristol channel, and she promised herself she wouldn’t let that happen.

  When they arrived on Ko Phi Phi Don, Holly was sitting on a large, turquoise cushion at the Lotus Resort’s poolside, her legs crossed, her head bent to hear what the woman next to her was saying. Claire stopped at the veranda leading to the pool area and watched her. Her hair was longer again, tumbling halfway down her back and she looked very thin, too thin.

  Claire stepped out of the shadows of the veranda and Holly turned. Her face looked different, more grown up than ever. But worst of all, her eyes were empty, like something inside her had given up. It made Claire think of her own reflection in the mirror in the weeks after she’d seen her dad die.

  Claire opened her arms to her and Holly ran into them, leaning her cheek on her shoulder. Claire could feel her tears sinking through the thin material of her cardigan and she started crying too, for herself, for Holly … and for Milo.

  Claire tilted her chin up, examining Holly’s tear-drenched face. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Perfect now you’re here. Did Alex get you to come?’

  ‘Yes. He’s been very worried.’

  She wiped her tears away with her thin fingers. ‘God, he’s such a worrier! I just got a bit carried away with the partying. How long are you staying?’

  ‘I don’t know. I wanted to make sure you were okay.’

  ‘I will be when Milo joins us.’

  Claire’s heart skipped a beat. ‘He’s coming too?’

  Holly sighed. ‘I wrote him a letter, he never checks the email I set up for him. I hope he comes.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘France, at some little farm. But I’m worried he’s moved on from there without telling me. He didn’t reply to my last letter and he moves from one place to the next so quickly.’

  Claire linked her arm through Holly’s. ‘This place is lovely,’ she said, desperate to change the subject. She wasn’t here to talk about Milo. She looked around at the laidback complex of villas and bungalows, young people walking around in flip-flops, the sea glistening in the background. She’d heard a lot about Ko Phi Phi Don, especially the relaxed backpacker’s vibe of Tonsai Bay. It was just as she’d imagined, with its swaying palm trees, white sands and stunning views of hilly rocks and shining waves. ‘Do you think I can book a room here?’

  Holly shot Claire a beautiful smile. ‘You’re staying?’

  ‘Of course!’

  That evening, the three of them had dinner at a nearby restaurant with a blue elephant statue at its centre. Holly and Alex had been a few times before and raved about how good it was. Holly sat in the chair next to Claire and held her hand as Alex watched, a slight crease in his tanned forehead. He could see it too, what was brimming beneath the surface. Add to that the fact Holly had absent-mindedly doodled an image of a woman standing on a rock overlooking the sea on her napkin, they were both worried.

  ‘So what are you planning to do with your English degree?’ Claire asked Holly, her eyes still on the drawing.

  Holly noticed her looking and crunched the napkin up. ‘I’m not sure really. We’ve been talking about travelling, haven’t we, Alex?’

  Alex nodded, his eyes still heavy with worry.

  ‘Sounds fun,’ Claire said.

  ‘Maybe the four of us can travel together?’

  ‘Four?’

  Holly nodded. ‘You, me, Alex and Milo.’

  Claire sighed. ‘Holly, Milo and I—’

  ‘You want a photo?’ They all looked up to see a man standing over them with a Polaroid camera.

  ‘Oh, yes please!’ Holly said, putting her arms around Claire and Alex’s shoulders. Just at the moment that the camera flashed, Holly’s smile slipped from her face as she stared into the distance. Claire followed her gaze to see a woman striding towards their table wearing a long flowery dress stained with dry mud at the bottom.

  Nora McKenzie.

  The last time Claire had seen Nora was at the inquest. She’d watched her cry as the verdict was returned and her heart had gone out to her as she imagined how it must have felt to be estranged from her best friend all these years only to discover she’d been dead the whole time. Afterwards, Claire had been so desperate to get away to avoid Milo, she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Nora.

  But what on earth was she doing here now?

  Holly’s eyes darted to Claire’s face then to Nora’s. ‘Go away,’ she said, scraping her chair back.

  ‘Why are you doing this, Holly?’ Nora said, face pained. ‘You must tell Claire what you told me a few days ago, it’ll destroy you if you don’t.’

  ‘Tell me what?’ Claire asked, looking between them both.

  Nora looked at Holly, her eyes pleading. ‘Holly, please. If you don’t say anything, I’ll have no choice but to—’

  Holly put her hands to her ears. ‘No, no, no, no!’

  The manager jogged over with a waiter. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Take her away,’ Holly said. ‘She’s harassing me, take her away!’

  The manager clasped Nora’s arm and dragged her away as Holly buried her face in Alex’s chest. Before she got to the exit, Nora turned. ‘I’m staying at the bungalows down the beach,’ she said to Holly. ‘Number eight. Please, Holly, please come see me.’ There was something in her eyes, a desperate pleading that made Claire’s heart almost stop.

  Surely no more secrets?

  After the manager steered her out, Claire turned to Holly. ‘What was she talking about? Why’s she here?’

  ‘She’s mad.’

  ‘Holly …’

  ‘Really, Claire. I have no idea. I think she’s not right in the head.’

  ‘She got it right about your mum though.’

  Holly took a deep breath then reached for the menu. ‘Now, what shall we eat?’

  Alex and Claire exchanged worried looks. But what could they do? Claire sensed the tightrope Holly was walking and was terrified of pushing her over the edge. So, promising herself she’d talk to her in the morning, Claire picked up her menu too, Nora’s outburst still lacing the atmosphere.

  That night, Claire fell asleep to the ripple of waves, the sound seeping into her dreams. She found herself at Hope’s Mouth where Erin had died. A figure approached from the sea and Claire presumed it was Erin. But as s
he drew closer, she realised it was Holly.

  Claire woke with a start, heart pounding. She looked towards her window and, at first, she didn’t notice Holly in the darkness, just saw the rocks in the distance heaped like bones in the hazy moonlight. But then she saw a figure standing on a rock like a ghost in a white nightdress, hair turned silver by the moonlight. Her arms were spread out against the black sky as in her drawing and there was something about the way she held herself that made Claire realise straight away it was Holly.

  She didn’t bother grabbing her dressing gown or shoes. She just ran outside towards the rock, calling Holly’s name as the waves lapped at her bare feet. As she approached the rock, she heard movement behind her. She turned, thought she saw a shadow disappear behind a nearby palm tree.

  Holly sobbed and Claire turned her attention back to her, scrambling up the rock. When she reached the top, she stepped forward, the oppressive night air pressing against her, urging her to the edge, taking her back to Hope’s Mouth and that first day she’d spent with Milo as he’d looked out to sea with tears in his eyes.

  ‘Can I stand with you?’ Claire asked Holly.

  She nodded, her face very still. So Claire stood next to her, taking her hand. They both looked down into the moonlit waves below.

  ‘It’s the look in my mum’s eyes when she fell that haunts me,’ Holly said very quietly. ‘She turned up on my birthday and grabbed me while I was alone, taking me to Hope’s Mouth and pulling me beyond the barriers. We were right at the edge and I remember being so scared. She – she was going on about not wanting to live if I wasn’t in her life.’

  Claire squeezed her hand. Hearing this story for the second time as she had at the inquest didn’t make it any less painful.

  ‘Then she started going on about loving my dad,’ Holly continued, ‘but he didn’t love her back and that’s why things had to be the way they were.’ She peered behind her. ‘There was a sound behind us and we turned: it was Milo. And Mum whispered to me, “There he is, there’s your dad.”’

  ‘Your dad?’

  Holly nodded, making Claire’s very core shift. She closed her eyes, saw Holly’s face transplanted over Milo’s, high cheekbones and perfect skin blurring into one. She saw the way he looked at Holly, with such pure love, and the way she looked at him too.

  ‘I didn’t know until that moment,’ Holly said. ‘And then my other dad turned up and, even at that age, I could see it in his eyes: that he knew I wasn’t his, but he loved me anyway.’

  Holly let out a sob, putting her hands to her face, and Claire hugged her close.

  ‘Mum just said it out loud then, right in front of Dad,’ Holly said. ‘She said, “I love you, Milo. I really do.” Then she took a step towards the edge and Milo ran to us and …’

  Her face crumpled and she put her fist to her mouth, sobbing into it. Claire took the chance to shuffle her further away from the edge.

  ‘All he wanted to do was make sure I wasn’t hurt, that’s all,’ Holly mumbled into her fist. ‘But when he ran towards us, Mum was surprised, she stumbled and – oh God, Claire.’ Claire pressed her cheek against Holly’s, feeling her tears slide over her face. ‘She fell backwards and she screamed at us to help her. But it was too late, she’d gone and … and the last thing I saw was her … her head smashing on the rocks before Milo made me look away.’

  ‘Oh Holly,’ Claire said.

  ‘When we got back, they made me go to my room but I overheard them tell Jen what happened. They called me down and convinced me to keep it a secret, that if we told the truth, Milo might get sent to prison. We never talked about it after and Milo never knew Mum told me he was my dad.’

  But Claire knew right then Milo had always known. She could see it in the way he looked at Holly, spoke of her, took the blame for her actions the way he had in Finland. And yet he thought Holly didn’t know she was his. It was a strange stalemate.

  Claire pulled Holly into the middle of the rock, away from the sea, and Holly contemplated the waves with wide eyes as if shocked she’d been so close to the edge.

  The next evening, Claire took Holly down to the beach after dinner. It was very warm when they got there, the stars above vivid, the leaves of the palm trees above rustling in the breeze. The smell of Thai spices drifted over to them, laughter rising and falling in the wind. In the distance, over the sea, a light grey cloud hovered, lightning occasionally darting through it.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Claire said to Holly, ‘and only open them when I say.’

  Holly did as she asked, excited like a child.

  When Claire was ready, she told Holly to open her eyes again and Holly let out a small gasp when she saw the Chinese lantern Claire was holding. It was bright orange and decorated in flower symbols, just like one of the lanterns Claire’s dad had let off their last New Year’s Eve together as a family.

  Claire handed Holly a small notepad and pen. ‘We need to write down anything we want to leave behind,’ she said. ‘Then I’ll attach our notes to the lantern and when it floats up into the sky and disappears, so will whatever you’ve written on your note. We used to do it when we were kids.’

  Holly’s face went very serious. ‘A family tradition.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘We’re family, aren’t we, Claire?’

  Claire smiled, her heart aching. She was right. Holly was her family, whatever had happened between her and Milo. She would always be there for her. ‘Yes, Holly.’ She reached into her pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. ‘I did the same, see? Now your turn.’

  Holly turned away and quickly scribbled something on the notepad. When she was finished, she folded it and handed it to Claire. Claire attached it to the thin material of the lantern with a tiny safety pin without looking, just like her dad used to do, then lit the lantern before flinging it into the sky. It caught onto a whisper of a breeze and drifted upwards. Holly leaned her cheek against Claire’s shoulder, peering up at her under her long eyelashes. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Claire noticed the lantern get whipped about by the sea breeze before snagging onto a nearby palm tree, the light flickering out.

  ‘Let’s head back,’ Claire said, not wanting Holly to see what had happened. She was so vulnerable right now, she’d just presume it was an omen. Claire would retrieve it the next morning, make sure she didn’t see it.

  As they walked back to the resort, Claire sensed someone watching them.

  She turned, peering into the trees nearby.

  Nothing.

  But still, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  That night, as she fell asleep, Claire thought of the note she’d written. It was just one word.

  Nothing.

  The reason? She had no regrets, every moment, good or bad, the threads of the fabric that formed the path beneath her feet.

  The next day, Claire woke to the sound of a child laughing outside. She got up and looked out of her window to see a boy with dark hair plucking shells from the sand. It had been so long since she’d done something so simple. So she got dressed and ran outside, collecting shells in her skirt as she walked towards the palm tree where the lantern had got tangled up. Children played in the sands, the sea lapping at their toes as they giggled. Couples lounged on the verandas of their bungalows and villas, sipping tea or orange juice as they looked out at the stunning scenery. Long-tail boats bobbed up and down, colourful ribbons hanging off their wooden shafts.

  When Claire got to the palm tree, she pulled over a deckchair and balanced on it to free what remained of the lantern. As she yanked it down, Holly’s note fell to the sand below. Before she knew what she was doing, she was reading the charred scrap of paper.

  The bad things I want to leave behind are the memories and guilt from the day I shot my other dad. H x

  Claire stared at those words, hardly able to breathe.

  Holly had shot Dale?

  She sank into the sand, p
utting her head in her hands. Holly was just a child, how could this be possible?

  But then life was a little different on a farm, Holly had once told Claire. A girl learns to hold a gun, to shoot accurately when she must. Puppies born wrong? You shoot them. A dog loses its mind and eats its pups? You shoot it. A woman is cruel to you and your dad? You tear apart her work. And then: the man you thought was your father loses control and tries to shoot the man who is your father? You shoot him.

  And now Claire understood why Milo changed so after what happened that fateful night. To watch a child pick up a gun and shoot the man everyone thought was her father would break even the strongest of men, wouldn’t it? Make him fiercely protective too. Milo loved his daughter so very much, he’d been willing to sacrifice everything for her, to take the blame for everything she did … to lie. Those lies suddenly made sense in some way now. People did anything for their children, didn’t they, including lying to protect them. But surely he knew Claire cared deeply for Holly and would never have betrayed her secret. Why couldn’t he tell her? Why so many lies?

  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 a flame 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 thoughts of knowing 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.