The Missing One (52 page)

I drop the letter.

Through the window I can see that the sky is still dark grey, still too dark to go out. Another fifteen, twenty minutes and dawn will be breaking and we can get out of here.

There is another envelope, the same – airmail, with ‘Return to Sender' on it in my father's writing. I tip it up and a blurry Polaroid of a newborn falls out. The letter is just a single sheet, written in an even tighter scrawl.

I try to swallow. So, the boy in the red wellies is not Susannah's dead son because she didn't lie to me about that – she did become a mother for the first time in her forties.
Who is this boy then? And why did my mother send these letters back? It is still not clear what Susannah could have done to my mother that was so unforgivable.

Among the papers scattered in front of me I see the little face again. A square colour-saturated picture; this child is haunting me now. I reach out and pick it up. The familiar face peers up at me. He even has a dimple on his chin, like Finn.

Most of the other papers spread on the cushion are old newspaper cuttings. I scrape them up. I'll take them back to England and go through them properly, when I'm calm and can get my head around all this. It's definitely getting lighter outside. Surely we can go very soon. But as I scoop them one yellowed headline catches my eye: ‘Chasing Whales'.

I pick it up.

For a second, my mind goes blank. I close my eyes. The floathouse sways beneath me.

Then the names begin to roll through my brain –
Halmstrom. Jonas. Elena. Kit. Kali. I force my eyes open. I try to read the cutting again, but the words skip and bounce. I put it down. I am shaking all over. There is a metallic taste at the back of my throat. I pick up the next clipping but I can only read snatches.

I scrabble through the papers, pulling them out one by one – there must be ten cuttings. I skim them all.

They woke to the sound of the sky crashing in. It seemed as if the stars were falling, blowing holes in the ground.

‘You hear that?' He was out of his sleeping bag already, pulling on his boots. His tawny hair stuck up all over the place and his voice was gruff.

Elena sat up, too, and fumbled to unzip the sleeping bag. The embers were still smouldering and everything smelled of damp woodsmoke and misted cedars. Kali whimpered, just once, next to her.

‘Can you get them up?' He zipped his fleece, shoved a hat on his head, rubbed his beard then the rest of his face with one hand. ‘I'll take the packs down – I have everything right here.'

She shifted across and prodded Susannah's back. ‘Susannah, wake up,' Then she went and knelt by Kit. Two more exhalations echoed across the bay behind the camp. Her little boy lay curled on his side in his sleeping bag, his hair sprouting from the top.

‘Sweetheart – wake up,'

He opened his eyes and sat up, instantly wide awake. His hair was static and she smoothed it down. ‘Some whales are here – you want to come see them on the boat?'

She helped him out of his sleeping bag, stood him up and tugged a fleece over his head; he wobbled, but didn't complain. Then she put his waterproof suit over the fleece, zipping it up to his chin. He was used to the routine, trying to help her by lifting a leg, balancing, putting each hand up for a mitten. There was a whimper from the nest over by the fire. She kissed his head. ‘Good boy.' There was no time to feed the baby. She just had to hope that Kali would stay asleep in the papoose for as long as possible.

‘Susannah – you awake? Wake up, Susannah.' Susannah didn't move.

Jonas was striding off already into the murky dawn, carrying all the packs and equipment. She watched the mist swallow him. Another respiration echoed through the camp, bouncing off the wall of pines: they had come right into the bay. Elena scrambled around finding boots, her fleece, a hat. ‘Susannah? You coming?'

Susannah hauled herself up. ‘Shit.' Her eyes were puffy and small. ‘What time is it?'

‘Almost dawn – we can hear them just out in the bay. Jonas's getting the boat ready. You want to come out with us?'

She hoped Susannah would grunt and turn over, but no – she unzipped her sleeping bag and stood up. She was fully dressed in jeans and a thick Scandinavian sweater. She
turned to Kit and said something that made him giggle, then shoved her boots on. Elena bent to get the papoose.

Susannah really was quite stoic and helpful. But never – ever – again would they do this, all three of them together with the babies on the boat. The past few days had been hell. Susannah had occasionally tried to engage with Jonas, but there was a lack of sincerity in her voice and a quiet hostility behind everything she said. In return, he treated her like an impostor. If he was forced to address her, he did so in monosyllables. He'd been moody the entire trip – growling instructions, and taking off on his own to find firewood or spear a fish for dinner, or just stand on a rock and scan the waters with his binoculars. This trip had been a big mistake. Never again.

She picked up Kali as smoothly as she could and slotted her into the papoose. The whimper didn't turn into a cry – she stayed curled and solid and warm. Elena shoved her own feet, unsteadily, into her boots, then stretched her fleece and zipped it right round the papoose, sealing Kali deeper into her body warmth.

‘Come on!' His voice echoed over the rocks.

Elena picked up the bag of blankets and held out her other hand to Kit. ‘Come on, my lovely darling, let's go!' He folded his small hand in hers and then ran ahead, tugging her forwards.

Susannah was bending down to get a scarf.

‘Hey, Susannah,' she called over her shoulder. ‘The life vests are right there by your sleeping bag – can you grab them?'

Their feet crunched over needles and dust. A freezing mist hung above the water. They couldn't see the whales; they must be heading back out to sea already. Susannah caught up with big strides. Littleneck clams crackled underfoot as they scrambled over the rocks to the Zodiac.

‘You OK?'

‘I've got you.'

‘Don't slip, OK?'

She could see that the waves were tall beyond the line of rocks. They climbed aboard, Susannah first, Elena holding Kit's hand forward and passing him to Susannah, who lifted him into the boat. Jonas switched on the engine and its roar echoed off the forested mountain slopes behind them. He had his back to her so she couldn't see his expression but she knew it would be fixed and impatient, as if Susannah were single-handedly slowing them all down, which was not true.

Her knees felt shaky as the boat began to move, so she sat down, hoping the bump of the Zodiac would be enough to keep Kali asleep. There was quite a wind. As the boat began to bounce over the waves, Susannah stood up to grab a bag that wasn't secured. Jonas sensed her movement. ‘Sit down,' he growled, without even turning his head.

Elena looked up at Susannah. She was staring at the fibreglass floor. Her face was very pale. Her green hat was pulled low and her eyes were down. Slowly, she folded her hands in her lap.

Thank God this was the last day. Tonight they'd be back at the floathouse and Susannah would be heading south
again. She could not wait to be curled around Jonas, back in their warm bed on the floathouse, body to body, with the sounds of the sea filtering up through the hydrophone, their babies sleeping safely next to them, the wood stove roaring below – and no Susannah.

She wondered if the cedar planks had arrived – if so, they could make a start this week on building the woodshed. She knew Jonas's mood would improve dramatically the moment Susannah left.

It wasn't until they were halfway across the bay that she realized Susannah hadn't brought the lifejackets.

*

‘No.' He stared straight ahead. ‘If I turn us around they'll be gone.' She knew from his voice that he'd never turn the boat around, not even if she got on her knees and begged.

She looked down at Kit's upturned face, lit up by the excitement of waking and being on the boat already with whales so close up ahead. She made herself smile at him and he beamed back. His hat had slipped, almost covering his brown eyes, and she reached out to adjust it so he could see better. Then she put her arm around his shoulders.

‘Can you see them? Right over there?' She made herself sound excited rather than anxious. She pointed at the fins cutting through the water just ahead of the boat. She forced herself not to be annoyed with Susannah. It really wasn't Susannah's fault. Maybe she hadn't heard. The boat bumped over rising waves, stern pointed towards the whales. They weren't far off now. She counted nine or ten dorsals –
one far smaller than the others. She didn't recognize them, but the visibility wasn't great, and she didn't have her binoculars; Jonas had his, though.

‘Who is it?' she called. ‘Can you see?'

‘I think it's A5.' He turned and their eyes met. She saw the tension in his face. He knew, as well as she did, that they should not be out here without the life vests.

Her breasts ached as the baby pressed on them. She would need feeding, and soon. But looking at the waves, feeding on the boat just wasn't going to be feasible. Certainly not without life vests. She should force him take them all back. He could come back out and do this alone – but of course, he'd almost certainly miss them if she made him turn back now. She couldn't face a fight, not this early. And Kit would be so disappointed. It was fine. Zodiacs were unsinkable – that was the point of them. And, anyway, they could get out and back before the storm hit.

Susannah had lifted her gaze and was staring at the horizon now, with a stiff back. Her face was puffy and her eyes were slits. Her nose was red. She was obviously angry. For a moment, it struck her how strange it was to have this furious woman on their boat. In some ways, they hardly knew each other. There were those months in California but all that felt like a lifetime ago. There had been intermittent visits in the two years since – all powered by Susannah. Letters, packages. Knitted baby blankets. And of course those fraught few days searching for the floathouse. But the truth was they didn't have much in common – and never had. Not this, certainly: wilderness, whales, babies, floating
houses. Susannah didn't belong here. They all knew it. This was the last time.

Jonas steered the Zodiac beyond the coast, following the whales into the open sea. The wind picked up dramatically outside the shelter of the bay. It thumped the sides of their heads and made the inflatable boat bump and teeter. But the mist was lifting and she could see the fins ahead, oiled by the sea, and the blows shooting up in plumes. She glanced at Jonas again. This was the moment when they'd exchange a glance – share the thrill. But he didn't turn his head. She knew why.

Suddenly a big male surfaced just twenty or so feet off; Jonas cut the engine and reached for the camera. He started taking pictures.

Something wasn't right about the wind. The sky, visible now through the clearing mist, was too dark. It wasn't a question of if but when the storm would close around them.

The other orcas milled in the water ahead of the boat. She couldn't get to her camera in the pack by Jonas's feet, because she couldn't let go of Kit. And anyway, if she started to fiddle around with equipment Kali would wake up and start yelling. She longed for the hydrophone, but with two babies and a storm coming, that would never have been feasible. Anyway, judging from the colour of the sky, they couldn't be out here for long.