The Atlas of Us

She smiled. ‘Enough of the sarcasm! I just meant there’s no bridge and the sign said the river’s deep.’

The sign said.

She felt her face flush with embarrassment. Milo probably thought she was a right wuss.

‘It’ll be fine,’ he said. He looked down at her wellies, just shin-high and covered with fat pink flowers. ‘They’re waterproof, right? And the part of river I’m thinking about isn’t as deep as here. I’ll show you.’

She followed him down towards the bank, watching as the river gushed over clusters of rocks.

‘See, doesn’t look so bad up close,’ he said, smiling to himself. She noticed he got a small dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. ‘Still scared, city girl?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘City girl, as if! I’ve seen plenty of countryside, and not just in the UK either. I’m more worried for you actually. If you fall in, I’d have to jump in and save you, wouldn’t I? My hair goes all curly when it gets wet, it’ll be a pain to re-style it.’

Milo blew his fringe out of his eyes. ‘You think this fringe isn’t a nightmare after a dunk in the river?’

Claire laughed.

‘And as for the city girl thing,’ he said, looking her up and down. ‘I was only joking. It’s obvious you’re not.’

Claire looked down at what she was wearing: the purple leggings she’d discovered in a Californian flea market, the holey jumper Ben had bought her in Belgium and, of course, her flowery wellies, all the way from Scotland.

She smiled. ‘I guess not.’

‘So you going to put those flower power wellies to use then?’

She felt a funny little thrill in the pit of her stomach, like she was at that waterfall again. But that was ridiculous, it was just a bloody river! ‘Why not?’ she said.

‘Blue!’ Milo shouted, pointing to the other side of the river. His dog peered up then bounded across the river, paws splashing into the water, tail wagging. Archie went to chase after him but Claire pulled him back, leaning over to pick him up. He’d be belly-deep in water if she let him walk across.

‘Interesting name for a dog,’ she said as she looked at Milo’s dog.

‘Colour of his eyes.’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s a narrow ridge,’ Milo said, stepping into the water. ‘One step left or right and you’re both under.’

She stepped in after him. It wasn’t so deep after all.

He peered at her. ‘Told you it wouldn’t be so scary.’

‘I’m disappointed. Nothing like another life or death situation to make a girl’s holiday go with a zing.’

Milo stepped onto the river. ‘Try milking a herd of pre-menstrual cows at five am.’

‘You were doing that this morning?’ Claire asked as she carefully followed him, feeling the squelch of her soles against the water.

‘I do it every morning before the sun rises. We have over a hundred cows so it can take a couple of hours. Then I have to feed and clean them. By that time, it’s nearly ten. But no stopping there, then it’s time to feed the young stock.’

‘Lambs and calves?’

Milo smiled. ‘Yep. Wriggly little buggers but once they’re calm and feeding, it’s quite peaceful. The rest of the day I’m mucking stables out, repairing fences, retrieving livestock that have decided to go wandering … knackering work really, but worth it.’

Claire breathed in the air, taking in the smell of grass and brine. ‘Have you been farming all your life?’

‘Yep, the farm’s been in our family for generations. My older brother Dale joined the Forces when I was thirteen, so our parents relied on me and my sister Jen to help out. When they passed away, they left the farm to Dale – it always gets passed down to the oldest son.’

Claire thought about what Henry had told her about Milo’s grandfather committing suicide. ‘When did your parents pass away?’ she asked softly.

‘When I was seventeen. Dad had a heart attack and Mum died not long after from a stroke. Jen reckons she died of a broken heart.’

‘That must have been a tough time.’

‘Yep. They had us pretty late so they weren’t exactly spring chickens but to lose them within a few months of each other …’ He sighed. ‘To make matters worse, Dale had just recovered from his injuries after getting back from the Falklands.’ By injuries, Claire wondered if he meant psychological injuries too, considering what Henry had so indiscreetly told her. ‘He was desperate to get back to army life but he had to stay and look after the farm. He did really well at first actually,’ Milo continued. ‘The farm’s turnover nearly doubled, the animals were happier than they’d ever been – fewer visits to the vets, more births. Then this whole BSE thing happened.’

‘Were there any cases on the farm?’ Claire asked as they reached the middle of the river. It was very dark there, the trees bending right over both sides of the river.

‘No, but once a link between BSE and vCJD was made, that was it, milk production and beef sales nosedived. Dale’s really struggled to hold things together.’

‘But the farm’s still here, your brother did well to ride the worst of it. And the profits from the inn must help too?’

His shoulders tensed. ‘Hardly. We barely get anything from that.’

‘But Henry implied—’

‘That he was our saviour?’

‘Not in so many words …’

‘Don’t worry, he tells us himself whenever he gets the chance. Yes, the share we get of the profits helps. But if we’d kept the land we sold to him a few years back, we’d have got a much better price for it now. Bloody Henry!’

He quickened his step, striding across the rest of the river so fast Claire had to jog to keep up with him. As they neared the other bank, her foot scooted out from under her and she nearly stumbled. He turned, grabbing the tops of her arms, steadying her. ‘Careful now.’

She peered up at him, taking in the fine stubble on his chin, the slight bump in his nose she hadn’t noticed before. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling, and she imagined placing her lips on it.

She turned away in surprise, face flushing. Where on earth had that image come from?

‘Come on, we’re on the other path now,’ he said. ‘The better path.’

She followed his gaze towards a small path weaving its way from the bank up into the hills. Blue was already some way up the path, front paws on a tree stump as he looked down at them. Maybe she should turn back? She should have followed her instincts and not come with Milo. She was vulnerable after what had happened between her and Ben, her mind all a fizz. But how would it look if she turned back now?

One walk, she thought, then that’s it, I’ll avoid him for the rest of my stay.

Claire let Archie down and followed Milo up the bank. Viewed from the path Claire had walked along yesterday, this area had looked like a mass of wild trees and bushes.

‘So where’d you grow up?’ Milo asked Claire.

‘Everywhere. My dad was a travel writer too, freelance though,’ she explained. ‘We tagged along with him all over the world as he was paid by different newspapers and magazines to write about the places we visited.’