The Blue: A Novel

by Lucy Clarke Narrated by Scarlett Mack

Overview

They found paradise....what would they do to keep it?

“Lagoon swims and boozy nights turn sinister in [this] atmospheric thriller” (People) about a group of friends whose dream journey around the world on a yacht turns into a chilling nightmare when one of them disappears at sea.

Lana and her best friend Kitty leave home looking for freedom-and that's exactly what they find when they are invited onto The Blue, a fifty-foot yacht making its way from the Philippines to New Zealand. Manned by a young crew of wanderers, The Blue is exactly the escape they are looking for and the two quickly fall under its spell, spending their days exploring remote islands, and their rum-filled nights relaxing on deck beneath the stars.

Yet paradise found can just as quickly become lost. Lana and Kitty begin to discover that they aren't the only ones with secrets they'd rather run from than reveal. And when one of their new friends disappears overboard after an argument with the other crewmembers, the dark secrets that brought each of them aboard start to unravel.

Haunting and infused with spectacular detail, the latest novel by Lucy Clarke-whose writing has been hailed as “breathtaking” (Kirkus Reviews) and “exciting and mysterious” (Library Journal)-is a page-turning thriller filled with adventure, exotic locales, and high stakes.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

06/15/2015
At the start of this intriguing tale of nautical misadventure from Clarke (Swimming at Night), Lana Lowe, an Englishwoman who has resided in New Zealand for eight months, anxiously awaits word of The Blue, a 50-ft. yacht that has sunk far off the north New Zealand coast. In particular, she worries that Kitty Berry, her dear friend from England, might have been aboard. In flashbacks, we learn how the two women came to join the crew in the Philippines. At first, the voyage is almost idyllic, but on The Blue “everyone’s emotions and opinions collided... building enough energy and motion to create an explosion.” Relationships form and falter, and tensions flare with fatal results. Lana eventually leaves the boat and Kitty. As Lana learns the fate of the crew members, she also learns startling facts about them. Clarke handles the joys, challenges, and chores of sailing with easy confidence and does just as fine a job with her misfit crew and their easily upset equilibrium. Agent: Judith Murray, Greene & Heaton Literary Agency. (Aug.)

Marissa Stapley

"This is Clarke at her finest: thrilling plot, perfectly rendered scenery, and characters as real as your best friend—or your worst enemy. A spellbinding exploration of human nature, the bonds of family, and the beautiful mysteries of friendship and love, The Blue is a book worth staying up all night for.

From the Publisher

Tense and atmospheric, The Blue begins as an exotic adventure and turns chilling as tragedy and secrets unfold on the open sea. Clarke vividly depicts the ocean voyage in this immersive tale—both the beauty of an idyllic escape and its descent into something more sinister.”— Laura McHugh, author of The Weight of Blood

"[Clarke] paints brilliant images of physical surroundings and takes readers on an emotional journey as she explores the fragile bonds that connect each crew member to the others. . . . The narrative is punctuated with interesting, unpredictable plot twists that keep coming until the final page." —Kirkus Reviews

People ("People Picks")

Two girlhood friends join the laid-back crew of a yacht exploring idyllic islands. Smooth sailing? Ha! Lagoon swims and boozy nights turn sinister in an atmospheric thriller.

Amanda Eyre Ward

"I could not put down Lucy Clarke's engaging debut, Swimming at Night. As Katie searched for the truth about her sister's death, I savored being an armchair traveler to seaside locales around the world."

Ellen Sussman

Swimming at Night reaches deep, exploring sibling relationships, love, friendship, identity, and the willingness to put it all on the line in order to learn the truth. I loved my own journey with these two sisters and the haunting landscape of their travels!

Lisa Unger

A tender and intricate meditation on sisterhood and family, Swimming at Night is an accomplished debut. With a deft hand, Lucy Clarke weaves a deep and compelling story that is as much about what binds us together as it is about what tears us apart. Perfectly capturing the impossibly complicated love of siblings, this is a rich and moving story that lingers long after the book is closed.

Free-Lance Star

A satisfying exploration of two sisters’ relationship, cleverly put together and written in a way that draws the reader along.

Booklist

"Alternating chapters juxtaposing the two sisters’ lives engage readers from the start in Clarke’s accomplished debut."

The Oklahoman

Brilliant. . . The characters and locations come alive.

Library Journal

06/15/2015
Seeking an escape, Lana and her best friend Kitty depart impulsively with a group of wandering strangers on a seemingly idyllic voyage from the Philippines to New Zealand. As they set sail, Lana has no idea the trip will turn deadly and haunt her for months after she disembarks. As the journey progresses, the group explores tropical islands and there are forbidden romances among the crew, but a tragic and mysterious twist of events abruptly darkens the mood. The 50-foot yacht starts to feel increasingly claustrophobic as Lana seeks the truth about the fateful night. Feeling alienated, she wonders if she can trust anyone on board, including Kitty. The story comes together through alternating perspectives of "now" and "then," and Lana ultimately discovers what happened in a satisfying conclusion. VERDICT Vivid imagery, increasing tension, and smooth prose immerse the reader in the rhythm of the ocean and the isolation of life at sea. Fans of psychological suspense will be taken in by Clarke's (Swimming at Night; A Single Breath) fast-paced and engrossing read.—Emily Byers, Salem P.L., OR

Kirkus Reviews

2015-05-19
Two women set sail on a yacht with a group of strangers hoping for a carefree, exotic adventure, but their journey takes an unsettling turn. Lana and Kitty have been inseparable friends since childhood, sharing many common experiences, including living on the same street in motherless households. After Lana severs her relationship with her father following a painful discovery, the friends, now in their 20s, leave their native England and head for the Philippines, a country chosen by the spin of a globe and the jab of a finger. They've been there a few weeks when they befriend a group of seemingly carefree young adults who invite them to join them aboard The Blue, a yacht that travels to exotic locales in the Pacific. The five crew members share duties, chip in equal amounts of money to defray costs, and cast votes to decide matters of importance—including whom to invite to join them. But the eldest, Aaron, captains the yacht, and he expects all crew members to abide by four steadfast rules. Lana and Kitty eagerly agree to his conditions and are enthralled as they indulge in their idyllic new lifestyle. However, Lana has a nagging feeling that although things may be smooth on the surface, something murky is happening just beneath the calm waters. A crew member disappears, and Lana becomes increasingly disturbed as she struggles with her conscience and believes she's been betrayed by the two people she loves the most. She leaves the yacht and settles in New Zealand. Now, eight months later, she anxiously awaits news of the crew's fate as rescue helicopters try to save them from disaster. Clarke (A Single Breath, 2014, etc.) skillfully balances romance and thriller, shifting between past and present as Lana's initial contentment changes to despair. She paints brilliant images of physical surroundings and takes readers on an emotional journey as she explores the fragile bonds that connect each crew member to the others. Although the author goes overboard at times trying to create dramatic tension, the narrative is punctuated with interesting, unpredictable plot twists that keep coming until the final page. Overall, it's quite a voyage.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940171148324
Publisher:	Simon & Schuster
Publication date:	08/11/2015
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

The Blue

The paintbrush slips from Lana’s fingers, turning through the air as it falls. It clatters to the floor at the foot of the easel, splattering tiny flecks of blue acrylic paint against her ankle.

Lana doesn’t glance down, doesn’t notice the spots of paint that decorate the small tattoo of a wing inked on her ankle. Her gaze remains fixed on the radio that sits on the windowsill, her fingers raised as if still holding the brush to the canvas. That silver box of metal and wires holds the entire sum of her concentration as she focuses on the voice of a news presenter.

“. . . has sunk a hundred nautical miles off the north coast of New Zealand. The yacht—The Blue—was believed to have left Fiji eight days ago with a crew of five on board, including two New Zealanders. A search-and-rescue operation has been launched from the Maritime Rescue Centre at the Bay of Islands. The Coast Guard has described the sea state as moderate with wind speeds of up to twenty knots.”

Lana blinks, struggling to absorb the information, as if it’s rain running off hard, scorched earth. Her gaze bores into the radio, willing it to disclose something more, but the newscaster has already moved on to the next story.

She turns on the spot, lifting a hand to her head. She feels the cool silk of her headscarf keeping her hair off her face. It has been eight months since she stepped from that yacht, her skin tanned, her feet bare, a backpack heaved onto her shoulders. She’d walked along the shoreline with dark hollows beneath her eyes and hadn’t looked back. She couldn’t.

As she turns, she catches sight of herself in the long mirror that leans against her apartment wall. She stares: her face has paled, and large green eyes glare back at her, wide with questions. Was Kitty still on board after all this time? Had she stayed even after Lana left? It’s possible that Kitty could have returned to England. Lana tries to picture her riding the Tube with a script in her hand, glossy dark hair loose over her shoulders, her lips painted red. But the image won’t form, not clearly. She knows that Kitty wouldn’t have left the yacht, because how could either of them go home after what’d happened?

It has been eight months since they’ve last seen each other—the longest time in their friendship they’ve ever spent apart. She thinks about Kitty’s e-mails still sitting unread in her in-box. At first, they came in thick and fast; then there were gaps—a few days, sometimes a week. Lana began imagining the patterns of the yacht as it sailed through remote island chains, wondering what was happening on board, who Kitty was spending her time with. Eventually, with her head too full of images, she stopped reading the e-mails. Stopped thinking about Kitty.

Now a beautiful memory gusts into her thoughts, bright as a kite. She and Kitty, eleven years old, sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor braiding friendship bracelets. “This is yours,” Kitty had said, holding up a slim cotton bracelet woven with turquoise and yellow threads—Lana’s favorite colors. Kitty tied it firmly over Lana’s wrist, using her teeth to get the knot in exactly the right position. When Kitty pulled away, there was a small smear of strawberry lip gloss on the back of Lana’s wrist.

In return, Lana had braided a pink and white bracelet for Kitty, and the two of them had held their wrists side by side and made the promise, “Friends forever.”

Lana had worn her bracelet for eighteen months, until it had faded and frayed to a dishwater gray. It had eventually snapped in the bath, so she’d picked it out and dried it over the towel rail. Then she’d put it away in her memory box with the photo of her mother.

Friends forever, they’d agreed.

A guilty heat crawls across Lana’s skin as she thinks of that failed promise: she’s cut Kitty out of her life, like slicing a bowline and letting a boat drift out to the open ocean.

•  •  •

Lana waits desperately for another news bulletin. She needs to hear exactly what’s happening out on the water—whether the crew have made it to the life raft, whether any of them are injured—but the radio station is playing a soft rock song that comes strumming into her apartment. She paces to the windowsill and snaps off the radio.

She stays by the open window. Outside, the morning light is thin and hazy, a salt breeze drifting into the room. She pushes up onto her tiptoes, peering beyond the tree line to where she can glimpse the sea. It’s one of the reasons she agreed to rent the apartment, with its cracked wooden floorboards and noisy electric heaters that she has to huddle against in the depths of the New Zealand winter to feel any warmth.

Now that summer is on its way, she’s grateful for the wide windows that let the light flood in, as she sets up her easel in front of them so she can paint before work. She’s made a life of sorts here: she has a job, a place to live, an old car. Her days may not be filled with friends and laughter and noise as they once were, but perhaps it’s better this way.

Sometimes she thinks of her father back in England, in his tired terraced house, spending his evenings alone doing the crossword or watching the news. After all those years of riling against his quiet routines, the irony of how her life has taken on the same lonely rhythm as his hasn’t escaped her. She writes to him every couple of months—just brief letters to reassure him that she’s safe—but she never includes her address. She’s still not ready for that.

Lana arrived in New Zealand eight months ago now, stepping from the plane into the start of autumn, shivering in a sun-bleached cotton dress, her salt-matted hair loose over her shoulders. She’d had a backpack on her shoulders and $500 left of her savings.

She’d spent that first night in an Auckland hostel, lying on a bunk with her eyes closed, waiting to feel it sway and shudder. If someone had walked into her dorm, laid a hand on her shoulder, and asked, Are you okay? Has something happened? she would have told them—told them everything: about the canvas backpack thrown from the side of the yacht, drifting in the sea like a body; about how a horizon curves and wavers when there is no land to break it; about the red sarong pooled on the floor of the cabin, soft beneath Lana’s feet; about a kiss in a cave carved from limestone; about how you can look at your best friend and no longer recognize her. But no one had asked. And as the minutes had crept into hours, and the hours stretched through the night, Lana had pushed down each of those memories, sealing them off.

When dawn had arrived, she’d showered the salt from her skin, letting the water run long and hard, marveling at its seemingly endless supply. Then she’d pulled on her dress, followed by her backpack, and started to walk. The rubber V of her flip-flops rubbed between her toes; she’d been barefoot for weeks. She’d stopped at a sidewalk café and ordered breakfast and a coffee. As she’d wolfed down a salty bacon-and-egg bagel, a car had pulled up with a surfboard strapped to its roof and a handwritten sign taped to the back window, reading FOR SALE, $500. Lana had gotten up from her table and asked the car’s owner, a young Spanish guy whose visa was expiring in two days’ time, if he’d take $300. He said if she dropped him at the airport first, she had a deal.

Afterwards, she’d driven north with no map, no plan, and no one sitting beside her. It had been odd to be behind the wheel of a car after so long, and she kept oversteering into bends, having grown accustomed to the yacht’s helm. The speed and smoothness of road travel unnerved her so much that she’d wound down all the windows to feel the wind against her face.

On that first drive across New Zealand, she’d passed serene dark lakes, endless undulating vineyards, and staggering hillsides, eventually arriving at the coast. That’s where she’d pulled up—on a gravel path that overlooked a bay. She’d parked facing the sea and watched as the waves rolled in, beaching themselves on the shore. When the sun had lowered itself into the sea, she’d climbed onto the backseat, pulled out her sleeping bag from the bottom of her backpack, and wriggled into it, lying with her neck cricked against the door.

If anyone had asked, Why New Zealand? she could have told them that she’d always wanted to travel here—but that would have been only part of the story.

The truth was, Lana had always known that the yacht was going to return here eventually—just as she’d known that New Zealand was where he was from. Perhaps she’d been waiting all these months because, no matter how hard she tried to forget, she still wasn’t ready to let go of The Blue.

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