Page 16 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
‘I am familiar with the term, but I must admit that—’
‘In the gospel of Luke, Jesus tells of a son who asks his father for his inheritance, then squanders it recklessly by living a life of luxury and indulgence. When he runs out of money, he returns to his father and apologises, but instead of being angry, his daddy is overjoyed at his return, and throws a feast in his honour. But you know the most relevant part of the story, Georg? The brother of the prodigal son is not at all thrilled at his return. For that brother stayed loyally at his father’s side throughout the years, and received no reward for it. I don’t want to be the prodigal daughter, if you catch my drift.’
Georg furrowed his brow, flustered by my firm stance. ‘Merry, please understand that the girls could not be more excited to welcome you into their family, if that is what you so choose. They know how much their father longed to find the missing sister, and I assure you that you will be shown nothing but love by Atlas’s daughters. I believe you have already encountered Tiggy, and Star too. Did you feel anything but love and excitement from either?’
I reached over to my left and opened a cream leather compartment that contained bottles of water. I took one, and cracked it open. ‘From Tiggy, no. It’s a large part of the reason I’m sat here on this plane. But Star was pretending to be a Lady Sabrina something or other to extract information from me. The point is, Georg, I know better than most the bitterness that a dispute in a family can cause. What if some of the sisters are happy to know that “Pa Salt” has a daughter by blood, and others aren’t?’ I cast my mind back to the recent revelation that I shared a grandmother, Nuala, with the man who had originally caused me to flee Ireland, Bobby Noiro. ‘I mean, from my conversations with Mary-Kate Iunderstand that there’s a global supermodel, Electra, who hasn’t always been known for having the most... gentle of personalities.’ I took a large glug of water.
‘I assure you, Merry, each of the sisters has been on their own personal journey of self-discovery during the past year. It has been my great privilege to watch each mature into a magnificent human being. They all...’ I observed Georg swallow hard, clearly fighting his emotion. ‘They have all come to a realisation that reaches most of us far too late in life... that it is far too short.’
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. ‘You’ve said what a great and wise man Atlas was. Well, if I have received any of that wisdom through genetic inheritance, perhaps I need to exercise some of it now, in his absence. As you say, Georg, it was Atlas’s wish that I should read his story as soon as I was found. Which I shall do. But I would like you to make six copies of the diary for the other girls. So that we may read about our father simultaneously.’
Georg looked at me, and behind his gaze I noted the cogs turning in his brain. For whatever reason, he was determined to follow Atlas’s wishes to the letter. What wasn’t he telling me?
‘Yes... yes, that might be a good idea. It is your choice to make, Merry.’
‘Although I imagine finding a photocopying shop at four a.m. in the South of France might prove to be somewhat of a challenge.’
‘Ah, fear not. TheTitanis fully equipped with every modern convenience. There is a dedicated office on board with computers, and several industrial printers. For this I am grateful, as the diary contains...’ – Georg paused to consider his next word – ‘... personal information. I could not risk it falling into the wrong hands.’
‘A whole office on board the boat? My goodness. I would have thought that the whole point of a superyacht was to relax and unwind from the stresses of everyday life! Well, I say “everyday”, but if you own a superyacht, then Lord knows what the “everyday” entails anyway. Tell me, Georg – what did Atlas do to accrue so much money?’
Georg shrugged, and pointed to the beaten leather journal resting on my lap. ‘The answers lie within.’
There was another knock on the panel, and the steward peered through the gap.
‘I’m so sorry to interrupt, but the captain has asked for you to prepare for landing. Would you mind putting your seat belts on? We’ll be touching down in Nice in just a few minutes.’
‘Yes, of course, thank you.’ Georg nodded at him. ‘Well then, perhaps you will temporarily return the diary to my care, and I will arrange for six copies to be made once we board theTitan.’ I handed him the journal, but kept the letter. He gave me a large smile. ‘There is nothing to be afraid of, Merry. I promise you that.’
‘Thank you, Georg. I’ll see you when we’re on the ground.’
He returned through the partition, and I looked out of my window once more. As the jet descended, I watched the light from the barely risen sun dance on the ripples of the azureblue Mediterranean Sea. I hoped it was a little warmer than the Atlantic water on Inchydoney Beach in West Cork. I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes, wondering just how that little boy found orphaned under a hedge in the city of Paris would one day go on to create me.
Ally stared up at the polished mahogany ceiling that adorned all of the cabins on board theTitan. The very term ‘cabin’ amused her, as she was used to bunking in the closest possible quarters with burly, sweaty men on twenty-six-foot Contessas. The bedrooms on board theTitanwere more akin to the Presidential Suite at the Grand Hotel in Oslo. The vessel was in an immaculate state, too. Even though the boat hadn’t been used by the family for the best part of a year, it was still crewed by Pa’s loyal staff, who continued to maintain the highest standards. Ally assumed that they were paid by the trust which Pa had established before his death. Like so much about the world of Pa Salt, things just... happened, and Ally hardly ever questioned them.
A ray of sunlight snuck its way through a crack in the curtains and landed on Ally’s face. She wondered how much longer she had before Bear’s cries from the cot at the end of the bed signalled the start of her day.
She’d be surprised if she’d even managed half an hour’s sleep last night. Even though the gentle lap of the Mediterranean Sea in June caused very little rocking, she was so attuned tothe feel of the water beneath her vessel that she sensed every small wave hitting the boat. That, coupled with the cacophony of thoughts running through her mind, was hardly a perfect combination for rest. The bare bones of the situation in which she found herself were fraught enough, with her sisters and their partners gathered to formally pay their respects to their father. But for Ally, there was so much more she had to reconcile.
It had been her, after all, who had seen theTitanoff the coast of Delos soon after Pa had died. She remembered so vividly lying on the deck of Theo’s sunseeker,Neptune, when he excitedly told her that his friend had spotted a Benetti superyacht from his catamaran, with a name she might recognise. Her stomach had fluttered with nervousness at the thought of having to introduce Theo to Pa. But, knowing already that she was totally in love, she had seen little point in delaying the inevitable. Ally had duly radioed theTitan, expecting to hear the measured tones of Captain Hans, but received no response. In fact, it appeared that whoever was skippering the yacht had made the decision to speed away from Ally at full blast.
‘Looks like your father’s running away from you,’ Theo had said.
When Georg and Ma had informed the sisters that in the event of his death, Pa had requested a private burial at sea (so as not to distress his daughters), Ally had simply assumed that she had stumbled upon the funeral. In fact, she had even suffered guilt at disrupting her father’s final wishes. However, given recent events, she was starting to question the narrative that had been relayed to her.
She recalled that theTitanwas not the only vessel anchored off the coast of Delos that day. When Theo’s friend had radioed to report its presence, he had mentioned that there was asecond ‘floating palace’ alongside: theOlympus, the boat of the infamous Kreeg Eszu, owner of Lightning Communications. Stranger still had been the reports of the business tycoon’s death that very day, which had made headlines across the world. His body had washed ashore in an apparent suicide. Ally suddenly felt nauseous. Why had she not examined this more closely?
That wasn’t the only odd thing that seemingly linked Pa Salt to Kreeg Eszu. Merry’s coordinates – which had been engraved on the armillary sphere, and recently discovered by the sisters – pointed to Argideen House in Ireland’s West Cork. Troublingly, Ally had just learnt from Jack that the property was owned by an ‘Eszu’. Although the building had apparently long since been abandoned, that was the last registered name.
What Ally had dismissed as a bizarre coincidence for the past year was suddenly beginning to enter the realm of the mysterious. It was no secret that Kreeg’s son, Zed, had an infatuation with the D’Aplièse sisters which bordered on obsession. The way he had lured a teenage Maia into his arms with his good looks and oily charm, only to abandon her at the time she needed him most, still set Ally’s teeth on edge. She had often thought that it was almost as if Zed had purposefully set out to hurt her sister. Ally did not question whether the way ‘the Creep’, as she caustically referred to him, had moved on to Electra had been planned. No doubt Zed had calculated that if there was one of Maia’s sisters who would accept him as a lover after the way she had been treated, it would be Electra. For a predator of his nature, the vulnerability induced by a lifestyle of drink and drugs must have been too tempting to ignore. It made sense that he would set his sights upon Tiggy, too. Her inclination to see the inherent good in everyone, coupled with her tendency to drift towards the realm of the spiritual, had, in the past, allowed her to betaken advantage of. Ally was eternally grateful that Tiggy had not been conned by Zed’s advances and had instead found the wonderful Charlie Kinnaird.
Ally was sure that Pa had never mentioned the Eszu name. In fact, it had been one of the first things she had asked Maia on her return to their family home, Atlantis, one year ago.
‘I’m sure there’s no link,’ Maia had insisted. ‘They didn’t even know each other, did they? Delos is simply a very beautiful island that many boats head for.’ Ally was beginning to worry that Maia’s swift response was due to little more than denial at the unique awfulness of her particular situation. Ally chastised herself for failing to question the presence of theOlympus. At the end of the day, what did any of the sisters know about Pa’s life beyond his house and his yacht? Growing up, they had encountered so few of his friends and business associates. It certainly wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that Pa Salt and Kreeg Eszu had met before.
Ally closed her eyes, hoping she could force an hour or two’s sleep. As she often did when anxious, she imagined her father’s deep, soothing voice. Her mind drifted back to Atlantis, where as a little girl she had watched Pa glide across the waters of Lake Geneva on his Laser at weekends. The way the sleek craft cut through the lake on calm days, creating barely a ripple on the glassy water as it did so, seemed to sum up Pa himself. He had always been such a pillar of strength and power, and yet seemed to slip through the world with a grace and poise that all those around him admired deeply.
One autumnal weekend, Pa had spied Ally watching his boat longingly from the shore, and had brought the Laser alongside the wooden jetty that protruded from the garden.
