The Atlas of Us

by Tracy Buchanan

  ‘We have a deal!’

  They did an impromptu high five then burst out laughing. For a moment, she forgot about her marriage troubles and her infertility. It was just her and a stranger laughing in the middle of a West Country valley.

  It occurred to Claire then how strange that was: her laughing in the middle of nowhere with a virtual stranger; a stranger who’d pointed a gun at her the day before. But then hadn’t she spent the past few years going on guided tours with complete strangers?

  She dropped her gaze from his and looked around her. The wild tangle of bushes had petered out into banks of steep grey rock, small green shrubs dotted here and there. It felt like they were in a cave, the sky above grey to match the banks. The pebble path stretched out before them then turned a corner, glimpses of the violent sea flashing between a bank of trees.

  ‘So, we nearly at Narnia then?’ Claire asked.

  ‘Nearly. Come on.’

  He quickened his step and Claire followed with a smile on her face. Blue ran ahead as Archie trotted after him. ‘So what about you?’ he said. ‘Any plans to live in the Himalayas or something?’

  Claire’s smile died away. What were her plans now without Ben? Would they sell the house? It had taken them so long to find the Victorian terrace and do it up just as they liked over the years. She felt a wave of nausea as she realised what she was contemplating. Was this really happening?

  ‘Are you okay?’ Milo asked, his brow furrowing.

  ‘Yes, sorry, my mind just drifted.’ She forced the smile back onto her face. ‘Not sure my boss would appreciate me working from my home office in the Himalayas.’

  ‘So is this a job for life then?’

  ‘That was the plan.’

  ‘Was?’

  She hadn’t realised she’d used the past tense. ‘I meant is. It’s the right path for me.’

  ‘Maybe the right path isn’t always the best path?’

  Claire thought of her dad. What had not following the right path done for him? ‘The right path pays my mortgage,’ she said.

  Except there’d be no mortgage if her and Ben split up. There was no way she could afford it on her own with her wage. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, nibbling at a loose nail. Milo’s eyes flickered over her wedding ring. She pulled her sleeve down to cover it.

  ‘Right, we’re seconds away from Narnia,’ Milo said, diverting his eyes. ‘Sure you’re ready? It’s just around this bend.’ He gestured for her to walk ahead of him so she quickened her step. As she turned the corner, the soft scent of honey drifted towards her and then a truly beautiful sight came into sight: both banks either side of her were completely shrouded in violet flowers, bruised so deep purple it was like she was standing in twilight. Claire stopped, mouth dropping open as Milo appeared next to her.

  ‘You probably saw the flowers on the way here,’ he said, reaching for one of them and handing it to her. ‘Bell heather. They thrive in full sun,’ he said, peering up at the sky. The clouds were gliding away now, rays of yellow sun streaming into the valley. ‘They smell lovely too, Holly has them in her room for their scent.’

  She lifted the bloom to her nose and breathed in its sweet tones. She then tucked it into her bag for her own room and glided her hands over the others as she closed her eyes. All thoughts of Ben and their future – her future – disappeared.

  There was just now.

  She opened her eyes to find Milo watching her, the look on his face making her very aware of the space between them, the thump of her heart, the background sound of violent waves.

  She broke his gaze and looked down at her bag, taking her camera out. ‘It’s beautiful. Really beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘I must take some photos.’ She put her camera to her face, pleased it was covering her flushed cheeks. ‘Is that the sound of waves I can hear?’ she asked after a while.

  ‘Yep, you can get to Hope’s Mouth just through there,’ he said, pointing to a small archway in the distance.

  ‘Great, I wanted to take more photos of the sea yesterday but a whole bunch of tourists turned up. Shall we go?’

  He tensed. ‘You go. I’ll stay here with the dogs.’

  ‘I don’t have to.’

  ‘No, please do.’

  So she did, walking through the archway in the cliff, surprised to find herself at the barrier where she’d been the day before, the waves crashing against the rocks below. It was even more beautiful than it had been yesterday, hints of hazy blue in the sky now, the sun sparkling off the waves. She took out her camera and started taking photos, doing what she always did when a situation unnerved her: slipping into travel journalist mode, hiding behind a camera and notepad.

  After a while, she heard footsteps and turned to see Milo approaching with Archie and Blue. He looked nervous, eyes flickering towards the sea then back to Claire.

  ‘Decided to come up?’ she asked him.

  ‘Your dog was whining for you.’

  She laughed, leaning down to cuddle Archie. When she looked up, Milo’s gaze was focused on the sea, face very sombre, eyes glassy. She looked at him in surprise.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked.

  ‘Just the wind.’

  Was it really just the wind?

  They were quiet for a few moments then he nodded towards the cliff edge. ‘Shall we walk to the edge? You’ll get much better photos from there.’

  ‘Past the barriers?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Is it safe?’

  He smiled. ‘Are we going to have another river episode? Aren’t you the girl who travelled off the beaten track when she was a kid?’

  ‘That was then.’

  ‘And now?’

  She avoided his gaze. ‘I have tour guides telling me where to go.’

  ‘Then consider me your tour guide. You won’t fall, I’ll make sure you won’t.’

  He put his hand out to Claire. She glanced at it, heart thumping, then reached her hand out too, raising her gaze to meet his.

  Then she heard a cry for help.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ she asked, letting her hand drop back to her side.

  Milo nodded and shielded his eyes with his hand as he looked in the direction of the sound. Then he whispered a ‘Jesus’ under his breath. Claire followed his gaze to see two blue ropes tied to a solitary tree nearby, one of them broken off.

  ‘Looks like someone’s tried to abseil down the cliff face,’ Milo said. ‘Both those ropes should be securely tied around the tree.’

  He ran beyond the barriers and stared over the right side of the cliff edge. Claire hesitated a moment then followed him, looking down to see the cliff plunge dramatically into the violent sea below, jagged rocks jutting up from the waves like teeth. And there, pressed against the cliff face about a metre above the rocks, was a man, his face twisted up to stare at them.

  ‘The rope got stuck,’ he shouted up to them, his voice carried along by the wind. ‘I can’t get up. I’m getting bloody married on Friday, Sarah will kill me if I don’t get killed by the rocks first!’

  ‘Don’t tell me he’s the one getting married at the inn,’ Claire said.

  Milo shook his head. ‘What an idiot. He has no idea of the danger he’s in. It’s not the kind of cliff you want to climb at the best of times, but a few days before your wedding?’

  She reached into her bag. ‘I’ll call—’

  ‘No reception, remember?’

  ‘Then we should go back, call from the inn.’

  ‘The tide’s rising, see?’ Milo said, pointing to the waves that were lapping at the man’s feet now. It was coming fast. ‘I’ll need your help. Tie Archie’s lead around the tree.’

  Claire did just that as Milo shrugged his coat and jumper off to reveal a black T-shirt, tanned arms. He slipped his coat carefully under the rope.

  ‘Have you got something on under your jumper?’ he asked, his eyes running over her.

  She felt her cheeks flush. ‘Yes, a T-shirt.’

  ‘Take your jumpe
r off then.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To protect your hands. We’re going to have to pull him up via the remainder of the rope.’

  ‘Isn’t that risky? What if it breaks too?’

  ‘It shouldn’t, not with my coat protecting it from the friction caused by the cliff edge. The risk of us doing nothing is greater.’

  ‘Right,’ she said, pulling her jumper off to reveal a Bob Dylan 1984 tour T-shirt. She looked down at Milo’s hands. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. We can use some of my jumper too.’

  ‘Are you sure? I’ll have to tear it.’

  She tried not to think about the fact Ben had bought it for her. ‘It’s fine, really.’

  Milo helped her tear off an arm of the jumper and wrapped it around his large hands before running back to the cliff edge.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he shouted down to the man.

  ‘Matt,’ the man shouted back up.

  ‘Right, Matt. You’ve got yourself into a dangerous situation here. We’re going to pull you up via the intact rope. Can you give me some slack please so I can take some of the rope?’

  ‘What if it breaks?’ Matt asked, his voice shrill now.

  ‘It won’t. My coat’s beneath it so it won’t get damaged.’

  ‘Hundred per cent sure?’

  ‘No. But I’m a hundred per cent sure the tide’s rising enough to drown you soon if we don’t try to get you up.’

  Matt didn’t answer but Claire could imagine his face. She heard movement and saw the rope had slackened. Milo crouched down, taking hold of it.

  ‘Right,’ he shouted down to Matt. ‘You need to help us by pulling yourself up via any bits of rock you find on the way. But be careful not to swing. I’ll shout when we’re ready to start.’

  He ran back over to Claire, feeding the rope through with his hands.

  ‘What if he’s too heavy and one of us stumbles?’ she asked him. ‘We could go over the edge.’

  ‘I won’t let that happen.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I need you to trust me.’

  She wanted to say How can I, I barely know you! But instead, one word popped out of her mouth. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Good.’ He lifted her hands up, tangling what remained of her jumper around them until they were protected by three inches of wool. ‘I need you to take hold of the rope there a few metres away and pull when I say – like a tug of war, right?’

  He headed to the cliff edge, stopping about half a metre away from it. He then crouched down, taking hold of the rope as he dug his heels into the ground. Claire did the same, heart thumping.

  ‘Ready?’ Milo shouted down to Matt.

  ‘Yes,’ he shouted back up, voice hoarse with fear.

  Milo started pulling, the muscles in the backs of his shoulders flexing as he slowly heaved backwards, feeding the rope back behind him as he pulled the slack. There was the sound of rocks falling in the distance, scrabbling feet, a cry of alarm.

  The rope jolted and Claire let out a scream. Milo turned to look at her then started slipping forwards, feet trying to find traction in the ground as he drew closer and closer to the edge. Claire tried to pull him back with the rope but didn’t have the strength.

  So she made a decision, doing something the old Claire would’ve done: she took a risk.

  She let go of the rope and ran to Milo, crouching down and wrapping her hands around the rope closest to him, her knees against his back.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked her.

  ‘You need me here. Come on.’

  He shot her an exasperated look then turned back to the front, pulling at the rope. Claire did the same, putting all her strength into it and dragging herself back. They staggered backwards and backwards until, finally, a hand slapped onto the cliff’s surface and Matt dragged himself up before collapsing onto the ground.

  ‘You okay?’ Milo asked him, flinching as he let go of the rope. Claire’s jumper was worn completely away and the skin on his palm red raw.

  Matt nodded, unable to speak as he tried to catch his breath.

  Milo turned to Claire. ‘You did great.’

  She felt a strange sense of pride. She’d never done something like that, helped save a man’s life. It felt good. ‘Is this what happens when you take the better path?’ she asked Milo.

  Milo put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Looks like it. Feels good, doesn’t it?’

  Claire wasn’t sure what to make of the thunder of her heartbeat as he touched her.

  Then she thought of Ben and moved away from him.

  Matt stumbled over to them. ‘Thank you so much, both of you.’

  ‘You’re very lucky, mate,’ Milo said. ‘Just a few more moments and you’d have been fish food.’

  A few minutes later, as they walked back to the inn, Matt stopped them, pointing into the distance. From there, they could just about make out the cliff face that had been hidden from them before – the part Matt had been climbing away from. On its side was a huge heart messily painted on the stone with pink paint.

  ‘I did it for my fiancée,’ he said.

  It was the same heart that was shown over and over again on the news in the following weeks.

  Chapter Three

  Exmoor, UK

  When Claire and Milo got back to the inn, they were separated among the back-patting and gasps of horror as Matt regaled a hero’s story that made the two of them sound like Greek gods. He even insisted they join the family for dinner that night, and extended an invite to his wedding reception.

  As Claire was talking to Matt, Henry came out, face incredulous as he took in all the attention his brother-in-law was getting.

  ‘Ready for our lunch, Claire?’ he asked her, frowning slightly. He’d clearly heard she’d gone on a walk with Milo and disapproved.

  ‘I have a bit of a headache actually,’ she said. Last thing she needed was to sit across from his judgmental eyes. ‘I might just go back to my room. Sorry to be a bore. I got some great pictures though, and I still have two days here. Maybe we can meet for a drink or dinner later?’

  He looked over at Milo then turned back to Claire, smiling. ‘Yes, of course. You can try our taster menu. Just come down when you feel like it.’

  Claire headed back to her room, sinking into a deep sleep with Archie curled at her side. When she woke, the first thing she smelled was the bell heather she’d placed on the table. It instantly brought back memories of Milo’s big calloused hands clutched tight around the rope; the smell of him so close, bonfires and musk; the way his eyes had lifted to meet hers.

  No, it wasn’t right. She needed to drive those thoughts away.

  She pulled out her dad’s old postcards and flicked through them. Kangaroos and Niagara Falls; golden temples and bone-dry deserts, scenes from all the countries they’d visited as a family: Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Namibia, Iceland, Paraguay, India … the list went on, all jigsaw pieces of her childhood that she carried with her wherever she went. Her dad had scrawled on the back of some, messages like ‘Littlest Hobo, do you remember the sun rising over that rock? Daddy Bo, xx’, every word still scorched into her memory.

  But still, she saw Milo.

  So she strode across the room and grabbed her phone, flicking through loving texts she’d received in the past from Ben, trying to find an anchor in him too. When that didn’t work either, she reached for her book. It took a while but, eventually, her shoulders relaxed, Milo’s face disappearing as she sunk into pre-war Japan.

  When darkness fell, she put her book aside and walked to the window, peering out across the valley. The skies were clear, stars scattered all over, their bright white orbs lighting the night sky and turning it violet. Claire thought of Ben. What would he be doing right now? Probably watching the news or looking over some documents from work. Would he be wondering what she was doing? When she’d told him there’d be no reception, he’d said that was a
good thing; that it would give them proper space from one another. But she yearned to pick up the phone now, hear his voice, have him tell her he’d made a mistake. Her stomach plummeted as she remembered their conversation again and the look on his face that spoke volumes. He was exhausted with the charade, she could see it in the bags under his eyes, the stubble on his cheeks.

  She put her fist to her mouth, stifling a sob. Once again, she felt as though she were falling, her body twisting and turning in the westerly wind as she tumbled down that valley into nothingness. What was there for her without Ben and the security he offered?

  Thirty minutes later, she was standing in the shadows of one of the cream-painted alcoves in the restaurant, pulling Archie back as he strained to find the source of the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. There was a large table at the back and she could already see Matt sitting at it with the pretty blonde girl she’d seen the day before, presumably his fiancée Sarah.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Henry looking down at her, face red and sweaty. ‘So sorry, Claire,’ he said. ‘Two of our staff have called in sick. Hangovers no doubt. They certainly won’t be invited back. Means it’s all hands on deck. Can we do lunch tomorrow? I’ve set a table aside for you and have instructed our chef to prepare our famous taster meal. And a sausage for Archie, of course,’ he added, leaning down to ruffle Archie’s head then snapping his hand back as Archie let out a low growl.

  She followed his gaze towards the solitary table overlooking the valley. She was used to dining alone during media trips. But tonight it scared her, made her see more nights like this mapped out before her without Ben by her side.

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Henry, sounds lovely.’

  When he rushed off, Claire took a deep breath and looked down at Archie. ‘Looks like you’re my dinner date tonight, boy.’ She headed towards the table then noticed Matt look up.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re dining alone?’ he called out to her. ‘I said you can join us tonight.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t want to impose.’

  ‘I insist,’ he said.

  She looked at her lonely table then took in the large table buzzing with chatter and laughter. She yearned to sit with them all, have her head filled with other people’s lives and stories so she didn’t have to think of her own. Milo wasn’t there, maybe that meant he had to help out in the inn – Henry had said it was all hands on deck?