The Atlas of Us

by Tracy Buchanan

  In contrast, Niall powered through the water. As he got older, he got stronger from working at the docks. Charity couldn’t help noticing how muscular he was becoming. When Charity was fifteen and he was seventeen, Hope had got into trouble one day when they were swimming. Niall had dived into the sea and saved her, and something had changed in Charity’s attitude towards him. Instead of being the kid she and her sisters played with, he became a romantic figure, a man strong enough to save her sister.

  She’d sought him out at the docks to thank him the next day, and he suggested they meet up after he finished work. She’d pretended to be disgusted at the idea. But of course, she went. They’d both walked to a beach just outside Busby-on-Sea and Niall introduced her to her first taste of oysters – illegally sourced, as it turned out. They talked until it grew dark, finally sharing their first kiss. When Faith met her at the front door coming in later than her curfew, she’d expected a telling off from her oldest sister. But Faith had just smiled. ‘Don’t go breaking his heart,’ she’d said. ‘I like Niall.’

  Hope hadn’t been so happy, she just glared at Charity then shook her head.

  Faith had always been so kind, so understanding. God, she missed her so much.

  That night, Charity pulled the small wooden box she kept full of Faith’s keepsakes from beneath her bed. It was the size of a shoebox, intricate flowers etched around its sides. She opened it and gently lifted out the photos she kept that told the story of Faith’s short life. She looked at each one, trying to control her emotions. One was of the three sisters standing with their parents outside the café the day her mum opened it twenty years ago. Charity was just six, her dark hair frizzy like her mum’s, her knees chubby; an eight-year-old Hope stood awkwardly beside her, just a wisp of a thing with red hair down to her elbows. And then Faith, nine and already so beautiful, smiling directly into the camera, the blonde hair she’d inherited from their grandma shining under the glare of the morning sun like it might evaporate any minute. There were more photos too, one of Faith picking up a swimming award when she was twelve, another of her at her fourteenth birthday party, all legs and glossy hair. Then one taken the day she got all the A-Level results she needed to get into the marine biology course she’d applied for at the University of Southampton, face flushed with happiness as she gave a thumbs up to the camera.

  The last photo was of Faith standing outside the University of Southampton. Charity recognised that nervous smile of hers. Faith used to get it the morning of her exams, or that time when her dad discovered she’d been storing underwater plants in the café, stinking the place out. Despite all her bravado about leaving Busby-on-Sea to go to university, Charity remembered how nervous Faith had been that day. Charity hadn’t wanted her big sister to go.

  Charity set the photos aside. Beneath them was the pale pink lipstick Faith always wore; a small Petri dish; a solitary silver pearl earring … and then the ornate silver necklace Faith had been wearing the night she died, a bejewelled anchor hanging off it. Charity picked it up, tangling it around her fingers.

  She thought of that terrible evening. Faith was back from university for the Easter holidays. She seemed distant, tired. Her parents explained it away, saying the course was hard work and Charity and Hope must leave her to study. Charity remembered being disappointed. She’d envisaged days on the beach with the sister she so worshipped, even some diving if the weather behaved. The first sign something was wrong was the doorbell ringing in the early hours. There’d been the sound of shuffling from their parents’ room, then the door opening, her dad’s heavy steps as he’d walked downstairs. Charity stood at her bedroom door with her ear to it.

  There was the sound of muffled voices then her father’s footsteps on the stairs again.

  ‘Faith?’ he shouted out. There was a slight hint of panic in his voice. That had worried Charity. Her father was so calm, not easily ruffled.

  ‘What’s going on, Tony?’ her mother had asked, appearing from her room.

  ‘Get Faith, wake her up.’

  Charity opened the door then, saw Hope doing the same. They exchanged a look then watched as their mother knocked on the door to Faith’s attic room.

  ‘Darling?’ she asked, voice trembling.

  Nothing.

  ‘Faith, it’s Mummy.’

  ‘Oh, Mother, honestly,’ Hope had said, pushing in front of her mother and opening the door, her usual bolshie self. But then she’d gone very quiet. ‘She’s not here.’

  Her mother had run downstairs and the two sisters leant over the banister, watching as two police officers followed their parents through into the living room. Charity learnt later they’d found Faith’s student card in the pocket of a woman’s body they’d found near the main road out of Busby-On-Sea and had come straight to the house. A few minutes later, Charity heard her father’s low desperate moan.

  Charity felt as though the world was tilting. Her father never cried. She’d grabbed Hope’s hand and they waited quietly as the police officers left. When their parents came to them, Charity could tell from the looks on their faces something dreadful had happened. She’d run into her room and buried her face into the pillow, unable to face it. It had been Hope who’d eventually said the words.

  ‘Faith died,’ Hope said into the darkness, her voice close to Charity’s ear. ‘We’ve lost her. It’s just the two of us now.’ Then she’d felt her sister’s tears on her cheeks, mingling with her own. The grief had been astounding, making her head swim, her breath come short. She saw her sister in a quick succession of images: by the sea, hair sweeping out behind her; tucked up beside Charity in bed, reading stories to her; at Christmas, the three sisters sipping hot chocolate around the tree.

  All gone.

  The last item in the box was an article she’d kept, reporting Niall’s sentence.

  LOCAL MAN JAILED OVER HIT AND RUN FATALITY.

  Eighteen-year-old local Niall Lane has been sentenced to two years for causing death by dangerous driving. He was seen driving from the scene by a witness after knocking over nineteen-year-old Faith Winchester on Ashcroft Road in the early hours of 21st March this year. The witness found the victim at the bottom of the steep verge sloping down from the road into Busby Forest. An autopsy revealed she died from a traumatic brain injury, believed to have been caused by her head impacting with a rock. Faith Winchester lived in Busby-on-Sea all her life with her parents, the owners of the Busby Café, and her two younger sisters. She was a promising student in her first year at Southampton University and hoped to become a marine biologist.

  Charity looked at the clock in her room. Midnight. It was now ten years ago today and yet the grief felt as sharp, as painful, as it did then.

  Charity dug her hands into her long blue coat, the early morning mist swarming around her ankles. The road ahead of her curved around a corner, disappearing over a hill. Trees lined it, dipping over the road, making it seem darker than it was. It was hard to believe the sea glimmered just half a mile behind her, Busby-on-Sea now waking to another day.

  She paused as she got to the precarious bend that had caused so many accidents as cars struggled to negotiate it. Exactly ten years ago today, Faith was found in a foetal position. Her scarf was later found on the road just above.

  Why had she been walking on this road alone so late at night? She should have been in bed, asleep. That question had tortured the grief-filled silences her family had shared those first few weeks and months after Faith died, and ten years later, still no answer. Their parents died not knowing.

  Charity closed her eyes, tears squeezing between her lashes.

  When she opened her eyes again, a tall figure was approaching from the bottom of the hill. He was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, dark hair shaved close to his head.

  She recognised him instantly.

  Niall Lane.

  He paused, blue eyes narrowing. ‘Charity?’

  She opened her mouth to say something but suddenly a roar filled the
air.

  Niall’s eyes widened as he pointed behind her, shouting her name. She turned to see a small red sports car bouncing around the bend and hurtling towards her.

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  Acknowledgements

  This novel has been on quite a journey and there are many people who’ve helped along the way. My writing voyage started with my mum Dot Fountain who taught me to love words, setting a fabulous example by reading with a passion and teaching me how to form words from an early age. My journey then picked up speed when I met one of my closest friends, Elizabeth Richards. Always there to provide spot-on feedback and a swift kick up the arse, this book simply wouldn’t be here without her. Alongside Liz and my mum, there are two brilliant ‘readers’ who I road test all my work on: Angela Cranfield and Emma Cash. Thank you, my lovelies! And I must thank the Hilary Johnson Authors’ Advisory Service whose fabulous reader helped me too.

  My journey to publication got serious when my agent Caroline Hardman plucked me from the slush pile. She believed in my writing right from the start and fought hard to get it out into the world. A brilliant editor, tough and funny too, I’ll forever be grateful to her. It’s thanks to her my novel arrived in the offices of my wonderful editor Eli Dryden who saw something special from the moment she read it and has worked tirelessly to get it to its final destination, the UK’s bookshelves, teaching me so much about writing (and where to get the best vegetarian food in London!) along the way.

  And finally, a heartfelt thanks to my husband who’s been there every step of the way the past few years, looking after our beautiful daughter Scarlett and our Jack Russell Archie, cleaning and cooking when I was just too wrapped up in Louise and Claire’s worlds to leave my laptop. Without Rob, there’d be no novel … and no gleaming kitchen surfaces.

  AUTHOR Q&A

  What was your inspiration for writing The Atlas of Us?

  I knew I wanted to write about the countries I visited while working as a travel editor and my own experiences with infertility, but it wasn’t until I went on holiday to Exmoor that the idea really came to life. During a walk, I saw a farmer standing outside a local pub, his wild-looking dog skulking next to him. The character of Milo instantly came to me then and I had to get back to our cabin to start writing. The rest just poured out!

  Which of your characters do you identify with the most?

  I started out identifying with Claire the most as I was struggling with infertility when I started writing The Atlas of Us. However, by the time I’d finished the final draft of the novel, I’d given birth to my ‘miracle’ daughter, Scarlett, so I really began to identify with Louise too, in particular her fierce love for her girls and the way motherhood can make you lose your identity a bit at the start.

  Did you find infertility difficult to write about?

  The first draft of The Atlas of Us was written just after a second failed round of IVF. So I have to confess to shedding a tear while writing the scene in the seaside café where Claire unburdens herself on Milo. While I didn’t experience the problems she did with her husband (though infertility certainly places a great deal of pressure on even the strongest of marriages), all the other stuff about her visits to clinics and the emotional toll of IVF were drawn from my own personal experiences. But I wouldn’t call it difficult. It was more cathartic and helped me deal with feelings that were still very raw.

  How did you own travel experiences help with writing about the settings in The Atlas of Us?

  They were a wonderful help! I drew on my memories from all the press trips I’d enjoyed while working as a travel magazine editor, and also my own personal holidays over the years. It was lovely to revisit all those places.

  Why did you choose to write about the 2004 tsunami?

  I’d seen the scars left behind while visiting places like Thailand and the Maldives during my travels. It shocked me that an event could have such far-reaching reverberations, even years later. It was an event I’d wanted to write about for a while and it seemed to fit in perfectly with the over-arching question at the heart of the novel: if someone’s affected by a tragedy that changes them to the core, can you still love them?

  The post-tsunami scenes are very vivid. How did you write about them without having been there yourself at the time?

  I read harrowing first-hand accounts from families who’d gone out to Thailand to try to find their missing relatives. I also looked at photos taken at the time. It was a difficult thing to do, but it really helped me draw those vital scenes.

  Which setting was your favourite to write about?

  Definitely Finland! I went on holiday to Iso Syote a few years back and completely fell in love with the place. It’s a true winter wonderland, so magical and it was lovely to bring those memories back to life again by writing about them. Funny thing is, I wrote those scenes on an unusually hot day in September while sitting in my warm conservatory. But I was so engrossed in my memories, and Claire and Milo’s story, I barely noticed!

  Dogs play a large role in your novel – Archie and Blue and then the dogs from the sanctuary in Serbia. Why did you choose to set the Serbian scenes in a dog sanctuary?

  I adore all animals, but dogs hold a special place in my heart thanks to my one-eyed Jack Russell, Archie – yes, he makes a special guest appearance in the novel too! The reason I decided to set the Serbian scenes in a dog sanctuary was because of my memories of all the stray dogs when I visited Serbia. It broke my heart but at the same time, they all seemed quite robust and happy roaming about in their packs. But it did make me wonder what it must have been like for stray dogs during the Kosovo war. As an animal-lover, it was important for me to focus on this when I wrote about Serbia.

  READING GROUP QUESTIONS

  When Milo and Claire first meet, he kills an animal in front of her. What were your first impressions of Milo and did those impressions change the more you read it?

  How do you think Claire and Milo’s lives change after their initial meeting?

  Claire is surprised when Jay makes a move on her. Were you? Jay ends up being one of Claire’s closest friends. What impact does he have on her life? How important do you think his role is in the novel?

  Claire and her sister Sofia are very different. How important do you think Sofia’s opinion is to Claire?

  Claire’s infertility plays a big role in the novel. How do you feel about the fact that Claire doesn’t end up having a child in the end? Would you have preferred it if she got pregnant?

  Louise often wonders if she should be doing more with her life. By the time her search for her mother ends, do you think she’s learnt to be satisfied with her role as a stay-at-home mum or do you think she yearns for more?

  Louise has a difficult relationship with her mother. Do you think Nora is a bad mother, or do you think Louise never really gave her a chance?

  Sam plays a significant role in helping Louise find her mother. Do you also think he helps her find herself? If so, how?

  Louise doesn’t end up with Sam. Do you think she should have?

  Both Claire and Louise have life-changing events to deal with. How do you feel they both deal with those events?

  About the Author

  Tracy Buchanan is a web journalist and producer who lives in Milton Keynes with her husband and daughter and their one-eyed Jack Russell. Tracy travelled extensively while working as a travel magazine editor, sating the wanderlust she developed while listening to her Sri Lankan grandparents’ childhood stories – the same wanderlust that now inspires her writing.

  To find out more about Tracy, follow her on Twitter @TracyBuchanan or visit her website www.tracybuchanan.co.uk.

  About the Publisher

  Australia

  HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.

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  Canada

  HarperCollins Canada

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  New Zealand

  HarperCollins Publishers (New Zealand) Limited

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  http://www.harpercollins.co.nz

  United Kingdom

  HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

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  London, SE1 9GF

  http://www.harpercollins.co.uk

  United States

  HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

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