The Atlas of Us. Tracy Buchanan
He knew what she was trying to do, lighten the tone. Except this was a serious subject, wasn’t it?
‘If you say it’s not going to happen, I believe you,’ he said. ‘It’s not fair to offer false hope.’
‘Thank you, I agree,’ she said, sighing. ‘I did think about getting a loan to pay for another private round but I just can’t face it. You hear of people who have loads of rounds and it just takes over their lives. That’s one of the worst things too, feeling like you’re in limbo. I can’t be in limbo any more, I just can’t.’ Claire watched a woman walk along the shoreline below them, a book in one hand, her sandals in the other, her long blonde hair like candyfloss as it whipped around her head in the wind. ‘I think my life can be complete without a child, you know. I think I can carve a place for myself.’
‘Definitely. I have no doubt about it.’
She looked into Milo’s impassioned eyes and almost believed it herself when he said that.
‘And your husband?’ he asked. ‘Does he feel the same way?’
‘No, he thinks we should have another round. He brought it up during our last consultation, but after, I told him I just couldn’t face it. Since then, we barely talk, just go through the motions. God, that sounds like such a cliché – married couple runs out of things to say to each other.’
She laughed but Milo didn’t. Instead, he placed his hand over hers. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and she saw something in them that made her heart seem to thump a million beats at once. It wasn’t just sympathy for what she was going through; there was more to it than that.
‘You’re trembling,’ he said, voice hoarse. Her tummy flipped and half of her wanted to bury herself in his brown eyes and stop talking, just forget all the bad stuff. But the other half needed this, to get it all out, no interruptions from well-meaning friends about different remedies she could try to miraculously become fertile.
‘I can’t figure out if it’s simply the stress of being infertile,’ she continued, her gaze dropping from his, ‘or because we just don’t love each other any more and this would’ve happened even without the infertility. I think the problem is we married an idea of a life. A life with a nice house to do up, visits to DIY stores, life insurance … kids. But without the possibility of kids, it feels like that’s all gone. And with it, the purpose of our marriage. Does that make sense?’
‘Of course,’ Milo said.
She put her head in her hands. ‘God, I feel guilty talking about all this, he’s a wonderful man. I shouldn’t be unburdening myself on you either, it’s not fair.’
‘Unburden all you want! You shouldn’t feel guilty. You’ve been through so much. It can happen at the best of times, but after everything you’ve been through …’
She fiddled with the globe pendant on her bag, trying to control her emotions. ‘I don’t just feel guilty about how confused I am right now but also because it’s me who’s got the fertility problems, not him. He’s always been the one who’s really wanted all that. If it weren’t for me, he could have it by now, just like all his friends.’
Milo frowned. ‘Is this what this is about? You feeling like you’re holding him back? Maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all.’
Claire shook her head. ‘He does.’ It was right at that moment she realised Ben wanted it to be over. He was just too kind to do the ending.
And Claire wanted it to be over too.
It all got too much then, the tears starting to come. She didn’t want Milo to see her like this so she scraped her chair back and ran to the toilets. When she got there, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her face looked like it was stuck mid-argument; skin stretched, the tops of her cheeks red, eyes angry.
Her face crumpled and she slumped down into the wicker chair next to the sinks, sobbing into her hands. Her marriage was over, and she was terrified. Terrified of what the future held, terrified of the road she’d be forced to take. It wasn’t just Ben she was leaving behind, it was kids too. There was the possibility of adoption with Ben. But if she stepped away from her life with him now, that might mean turning her back on ever having a family.
‘So be it,’ she said, her jaw clenching. ‘This is what fate’s dealt me. So be it.’
She took a deep breath and got up, patting some water over her face before walking back outside, pausing at the entrance when she noticed Milo leaning over the railings with Archie, pointing something out to him as Blue stood with his paws on the railings.
How could it have taken a farmer from Exmoor to help her see the truth?
She walked towards him.
He turned when he heard her approach. ‘I’m so sorry, it’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk about it all.’
‘No, it’s helped. Really …’ She paused, trying to hold herself together. ‘I need to accept my marriage is over. I think Ben has; it’s time I did too.’
On the way back, Milo let Claire quietly sob as she digested the acknowledgement she’d just made about her marriage. Her heart ached for Ben and every wonderful moment they’d shared: the footprints they’d made in the sand during their wonderful honeymoon in Sardinia; the way he’d carried her over the threshold the day they’d moved into their house; the long dinners they’d shared with their friends, talking into the early hours. There were sad moments too, the touch of his hand when she woke from being sedated in their IVF clinic, the tears they’d shared at yet another negative pregnancy test.
After a while, they reached a small village crammed with thatched-roof cottages. The sun was starting to set, casting a pink glow over the village. As Milo drove into its centre, a castle appeared. Claire looked up, wiping the tears from her cheeks and smiling slightly.
Milo smiled as he noticed her reaction. ‘Nunney Castle,’ he said. ‘We used to come here as kids – Dale, Jen and me. I thought you might need something to smile about.’
‘It’s perfect.’
As they drew closer, she could see its exterior walls were discoloured and crumbling, its turrets falling apart, huge weeds curling around their bases. Circling the castle was a moat, grey water glistening in the setting sun, ducks shaking their wings on its banks.
They left the dogs in the car and stepped inside the castle, taking in the disintegrating walls and empty windows which looked out onto the pink sky. Claire pulled out her camera, noticing how perfect the light was.
She started taking pictures as Milo leaned against a nearby wall and watched her. She tried not to get distracted by the sight of him there, his dark hair in his eyes, arms crossed.
‘I can imagine you living somewhere with no roof,’ she said as she crouched down to take a picture of a cobweb that stretched across a crook in the wall.
‘Why’s that?’
‘You always like to be outdoors. I bet you have the window wide open in your room when you sleep, even in the winter.’
She thought about watching him sleep. She imagined the way his eyelashes would curl over his skin, the way his mouth would open slightly, the way his dark hair would look against a white pillow. She pressed her nails into the skin of her palms to drive the thoughts away.
‘I’m not that daft, though I do like to camp out in the summer and sleep under the stars,’ he said. ‘Funny you say that though. When my grandfather went to Greece, he slept on the beach for a week because he couldn’t afford a hotel.’
‘He sounds really interesting.’
‘He was; it’s great reading all his letters. Shame things ended for him the way they did.’ Claire thought again of what Henry had told her and Milo rolled his eyes. ‘Henry told you, didn’t he? I can tell from the look on your face.’
‘He