Page 92 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
I scoffed. ‘Well, rather than Stradivari’s. He always used to say that Stradivari was “too big for his boots”.’ Despite the fact I had almost definitely failed my grandmother’s identity quiz, the memory brought a smile to my lips. Mr Kohler stared at me, before turning around the piece of paper he was holding, and pointing to one sentence in particular. In beautiful, ornate handwriting were the wordsStradivari was too big for his boots...
Noting that my jaw was nearly on the floor, Eric spoke. ‘It seems that your grandmother’s questions were very well chosen. And there I was, over fifteen years ago, desperately advising against the strategy. “No, Mr Kohler,” she said. “It is inconceivable my son wouldn’t frequently have mentioned that Stradivari was too big for his boots. It is all he talked about!”’
‘But... Agatha never even met me,’ I said, still in a state of absolute bewilderment.
‘No. But she was an exceptionally clever woman, who knew her son better than anyone else on the planet.’
‘I am very sorry not to have met her.’
‘Quite. Anyway, Mr Tanit. Congratulations. Good to formally meet you, Atlas.’ He put his hand out and we shook once again. ‘So, allow me to tell you about your family history. What do you already know?’
‘Very little,’ I replied honestly. ‘My parents were members of the Russian royal household. My mother died during my birth, though my father told me all about her. I also knew that my pa had Swiss heritage, but aside from that... I don’t know much.’
‘In which case, it is my pleasure to inform you that your bloodline is aristocratic. The Tanit family has its roots in the Holy Roman Empire. Have you heard of the House of Habsburg?’ I shook my head. ‘The house grew to be one of the most prominent dynasties in European history, but they originated from northern Switzerland. The family produced kings of Spain, Croatia, Hungary... I could go on.’
My eyes grew wide. ‘Mr Kohler... are you saying that I am a Habsburg?’
The lawyer laughed. ‘No, you are not.’ I felt my cheeks reddening. ‘However, there are historical accounts of Tanits assisting the house as far back as 1198. Your descendants would advise the family on the position of the stars, and whether they hung to the Habsburgs’ astrological advantage. They placed a great deal of trust in your family, and for that reason rewarded them with nobility... and a great deal of money. And you, Atlas, are the end of the bloodline. The very last Tanit. I have a fortune of...’ – he flicked through his papers – ‘approximately five million Swiss francs to give you. Once your papers are in order, of course.’
My expression must have appeared comical. ‘Five... million?’ I whispered.
Eric nodded. ‘Indeed. Perhaps now you can appreciate whyI was keen to contact you. Not only are you entitled to a great deal of money, but you are the last remaining member of a Swiss cultural dynasty!’
I was lost for words. The money could provide everything Elle and I had dreamt of. The thought choked me. ‘I’m unsure of what to say.’
‘No need to say anything, Atlas. I will begin the process of formally registering you as a Swiss citizen. As I mentioned, after the war there is a long queue, and it could take years rather than months.’
‘I understand,’ I replied. My head was spinning. Elle and I would be able to settle down here and start a family. I couldn’t wait to tell her the news. ‘Might I ask where I am staying tonight, Mr Kohler? Will I be in Agatha’s house?’
‘Ah. I have arranged a hotel for you for the next few nights. Here’s the address.’ He handed me a card. ‘Agatha bequeathed her large town house to the couple who used to care for her in her old age. After your father left for Russia, they were really the only family she had left. However...’ Eric raised his finger, remembering something. He returned to the file on his desk and began rifling through once more. ‘About a year before Agatha died, she bought a large plot of land on a secluded peninsula by the lake.’ He found the piece of paper he was searching for and scanned it. ‘It now also belongs to you. Here is a map of its location. Please feel free to visit if you so wish.’ I took the paper from him. ‘It’s beautiful out there.’ Eric turned to look out of the enormous windows. ‘You could go this afternoon.’
‘I might just do that,’ I replied as I stood up, my legs jelly-like. ‘Can I get a taxi from outside?’
Eric snorted. ‘You might struggle there. The peninsula is only accessible by boat! However, you can hire aquatic transport at a reasonable rate from the dock nearby. Show the driver your map, and he’ll know where to take you.’
‘Are the boats available for private hire? I’m actually very handy with a map.’
‘Yes, I believe so, if you can convince them of your credentials. Oh, there’s also this!’ He took a small cream envelope from the file. ‘It’s a letter to you from your grandmother. You know,’ he chuckled, ‘I never thought I’d see the day when this was handed over. Look!’ He pointed to his temple. ‘I have grey hair! When I met your grandmother, I was a young man.’ He stood up to hand over the envelope and bade me farewell. ‘I’ll contact you via the hotel. There will be plenty of documents to sign whilst you’re here in Geneva. Goodbye, Atlas. See you tomorrow, I imagine.’
‘Thank you, Mr Kohler.’
Within forty minutes I was chugging across Lake Geneva on a slightly rickety Shepherd Runabout. Despite my vessel, I was entranced by the vast mountains that surrounded the lake. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cool breeze on my skin. I loved being out on the water, with nothing but my thoughts and the clean air to accompany me.
The journey from the dock near the Rue du Rhône took the best part of twenty minutes on the Runabout, providing me with the distinct feeling that Agatha’s peninsula really was isolated. Eventually, the piece of land shown on the map came into view. I stared ahead at the private promontory, which had a crescent of imposing terrain rising up steeply behind it.
I killed the Runabout’s engines, and allowed the vessel to glide slowly towards the shoreline. Perfect silence fell, and I was in awe of the majesty of the fairy-tale landscape, which was reflected in the glass-like water. The hull soon made contact with the soft ground, and I hopped out with the boat’s line in hand. I heaved the bow of the Runabout onto the sand, and tied it off on a large rock. Taking in a deep breath, I removed Agatha’s letter from my pocket.
Dear Atlas,
My dearest grandchild, if you are reading this, then Mr Kohler has kept his promise and successfully located you – something that regrettably I was unable to do myself.
As I write, I know that I am close to the end of my allotted time here on earth, but if you find yourself with a tear in your eye, please do not shed it, for soon I will be with my beloved son – your father.
Despite the distance that was put between us by your father’s job, he would write to me regularly. In this way, I was able to keep up to date with your growth and development. He spoke of you with such pride, Atlas, often relaying that you were wise beyond your years, achieving more than he believed humanly possible. I do not doubt it from a Tanit.
In this regard, Lapetus informed me of your talent for the violin, and of your fascination with the stars – which would come naturally to you, given our family history. Perhaps Mr Kohler has shared some of it with you. If not, make sure to ask him. The story is fascinating and longer than I have the energy to write here.
How I wish that we could have met, reminisced together, and looked to the silent heavens above my cherished Lake Geneva. Speaking of which, no doubt you have been informed that you are now the owner of a secluded plot of land on the lake herself.
