Page 22 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
I hung on to Georg as we ventured through the bowels of the enormous vessel. I don’t know whether it was my delirious state or the fact that every corridor was lined with the same dark brown wood – polished to the extent that every surface was akin to a mirror – but I felt like I was traversing an M. C. Escher painting. En route to my quarters, we passed by numerous staff, who were waking to prepare for the journey ahead. Some were in polo shirts, some in short-sleeved white shirts adorned with epaulettes. Georg mumbled something about ‘deck crew’ and ‘interior crew’, but I wasn’t paying a great deal of attention. One thing connected all the uniforms, however – every shirt was embroidered with the nameTitan,and immediately below, stitched in rich gold, was the image of an armillary sphere. Several staircases and hallways later, Georg signalled to a door on the second deck.
‘This is your room,’ he whispered. ‘Mary-Kate and Jack are just here, to your right.’ He opened the cabin door.
‘That’s grand, Georg. Now, is there anything I have to be up for, before I collapse on the bed and depart from the land of the living for a few hours?’
‘Not at all, Merry. Please take all the rest you need. Of course, we’ll shortly be departing from Nice, and I should warn you that the engines can be somewhat... intrusive,’ he said sheepishly.
‘That’s all right, Georg, I think I’m tired enough to sleep through anything. I imagine you’ll be wanting some kip yourself, but if you wouldn’t mind asking someone to alert my children to the fact their mother has made it on board, that would be wonderful.’
‘No problem, I shall see to it, along with the preparation of the diaries. Goodnight, Merry.’
‘Good morning, more like.’ I sighed wearily, entering the room and gently shutting the door behind me. I wasn’t at all surprised to find that the cabin was akin to a five-star hotel. In fact, it might even have been nicer than the suite I’d recently stayed in at Claridge’s in London. My suitcase had been placed next to the bed, but I lacked the energy to open it up and attempt to find any suitable nightwear. Instead, I kicked off my shoes, pushed the towels (beautifully hand-crafted into little elephants) to the floor, and flopped onto the mattress. Pulling the covers tight around me, I closed my eyes and slept.
Maia stretched and yawned as she surveyed the empty breakfast table. She checked her watch: ten fifty a.m. The plan was for everyone to meet here on the sun deck at eleven, but from the looks of things, she’d be dining on her own. Approximately an hour ago theTitan’s engines had roared into gear, and the journey to Delos, and Pa, had begun. However, she suspected the amount of wine drunk last night was probably enough to ensure that the noise wouldn’t rouse those who had indulged a little too heavily. Maia hadn’t touched a drop, of course. Thankfully, everyone had all too easily accepted the party line of ‘keeping a clear head for the next few days’.
Initially, Maia had been worried that she wouldn’t have the comfort of the odd glass of Provençal rosé to help her through the cruise, but after last night she didn’t think she’d miss it too much. In fact, she had felt enormously content at how wonderfully everyone had gelled at dinner. Deep down, Maia had been dreading this trip for months, along with, she suspected, most of the other passengers. She and her sisters had made an enormous amount of progress in the last year, each learning to adapt to life without the guiding light of Pa Salt. The eldest D’Aplièse sister feared that this journey would only serve as a reminder of the enormous loss she and her siblings had suffered. Even arriving at the dock yesterday hadproved difficult, as theTitanhad always been a symbol of the family reuniting for the summer; a place of safety to unwind and catch up. But, as she sipped on her water, Maia admitted to herself that last night had almost been, dare she say... fun?
In all honesty, it was the presence of the ‘partners’ who had made the evening such a joyous affair. Quite the eclectic cast had been assembled for the voyage, which surely Pa would have approved of. There was the hard-working Dr Charlie Kinnaird, who did a wonderful job of grounding her spiritual sister Tiggy. Electra had Miles, a calm, sagacious man, who saw her not as a global superstar, but as the vulnerable yet passionate woman she was. Chrissie was able to give as good as she got from CeCe (although Maia was glad that she didn’t have to live under that particularly noisy roof). Even the socially reticent Mouse had last night revealed himself to be a pillar of eloquence and humility. Together with his charming son, Rory, the pair had given the quiet Star the confidence she needed to flourish.
Then, of course, there was Ally. Maia could only imagine the added pain that her sister had been forced to endure over the last year, following the loss of her beloved Theo. She so admired her sister’s strength and resilience, rising to the challenge of motherhood under the most difficult of circumstances... Something that she herself had once failed to do.
‘Morning, Maia,’ said Tiggy, as she crossed the deck and pulled out a seat opposite her.
‘Good morning, Tigs.’ Tiggy ran her hands through her thick chestnut hair, which almost seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.
‘What a beautiful day,’ she said.
Maia thought just how well her sister looked. Tiggy hadalways had a natural grace and ease about her, but Pa’s death one year ago seemed to have affected her more than anyone. Now, with the steadfast Charlie by her side, and her dream job repopulating the Highlands with wildcats, a smile seemed to have permanently returned to Tiggy’s lips.
‘Looks like it’ll be a quieter breakfast than expected, I’m afraid,’ sighed Maia.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. There are definite rumblings below deck. Charlie’s just in the on-board office. He’s reviewing a report on some blood-work or something. I’m glad I’m not a doctor, it doesn’t seem like you’re entitled to a minute’s peace! Where are your two, anyway?’
‘Floriano’s just gone to find Valentina. In the end the crew had to make up a spare cabin for her and little Rory to share last night. They insisted on it. Rory’s begun to teach Valentina how to sign, and in return, she’s instructing him in Portuguese...’ Maia and Tiggy both giggled. ‘They’re like brother and sister.’
Tiggy raised her eyebrows, before turning to check the sun deck was still unoccupied.
‘Now then, speaking of brothers and sisters, Maia...’ Tiggy glanced down at Maia’s belly, then gave her an enormous grin.
Maia exhaled, shook her head, and smiled at her younger sister.
‘Normally, in this situation, I should be offended that you’re making a comment on my weight. But because it’s you, I suspect that’s not the reason you ask.’
Tiggy squealed with excitement. ‘I knew it! Have you told them yet?’
‘Shhh... I’ve told Floriano, yes. But not Valentina. How do you always know, Tiggy?’
Tiggy shrugged, and looked incredibly satisfied.
‘No, come on. I’ve always let you off the hook on this front, ever since we were children. I’ll never forget the time when you told me that Madeleine the cat was going to have exactly six kittens. And, sure enough, later that evening, six mewling babies appeared. And we’ve all heard the story from Ally about Bear’s birth. She swears that neither of them would be here without you and Angelina. Tell me, what do you see that others can’t?’
Tiggy looked out at the ocean to the rear of theTitan, where the yacht’s enormous motor was creating a path of choppy white water. ‘It’s an ancestral gift,’ she said. ‘I’m abruja.’
‘Hang on, you’re a witch?’ Maia asked.
Tiggy laughed. ‘Ah, yes, I should have thought about the fact that you’re a translator. No, Maia. I’m not a witch. To be abrujais to be a part of a spiritual lineage.’
Maia looked sheepish. ‘Sorry, Tiggy, I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing, it’s just the way my brain works.’
