‘I know.’
‘You don’t think he knew, do you? And wanted to spare you?’
Tiggy voiced the same thought that had flitted across my mind in the past few hours.
‘No, I don’t. I think it’s called Sod’s Law. Anyway, don’t worry about me. I’m far more concerned about you and the dreadful news I’ve just had to tell you. Are you okay? I wish I was there with you to give you a hug.’
‘To be honest, I can’t tell you how I feel just now, because it’s simply not real. And perhaps it won’t be until I’m home. I’ll try to get on a flight tomorrow. Have you told the others yet?’
‘I’ve left them endless messages asking them to call me urgently.’
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can to help you, darling Maia. I’m sure there’ll be a lot to do with a funeral to arrange.’
I couldn’t bring myself to share the news that our father was already buried. ‘It’ll be good to have you here. Now try to sleep, Tiggy, if you possibly can, and if you need to talk at any time, I’m here.’
‘Thank you.’ The wobble in Tiggy’s voice told me she was on the verge of tears as the news began to sink in. ‘Maia, you know he hasn’t gone. No spirit dies, they just move on to another plane.’
‘I hope that’s true. Goodnight, darling Tiggy.’
‘Keep strong, Maia, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
As I pressed the button to end the call, I lay back exhausted on the bed, wishing that I shared Tiggy’s fervent spiritual beliefs about the afterlife. But just now, I could not think of a single karmic reason why Pa Salt had left the earth.
Perhaps once upon a time, I had believed that there was a God, or at least some power beyond human understanding. But somewhere along the line, that comfort had been wiped away.
And if I was honest with myself, I knew exactly when that had happened.
If only I could learn to feel again, rather than simply being an automaton who was outwardly a calm, functioning human being. The fact that I didn’t seem to be able to react to Pa’s death with the kind of emotion it deserved told me more than anything about how deep my problem went.
And yet, I mused, I had no problem comforting others. I knew all my sisters saw me as the family touchstone, the one who would be there for them if there were a problem. Maia; always practical, sensible, and, as Marina had said, supposedly the ‘strong’ one.
The real truth was that I was filled with more fear than any of them. Whereas all my sisters had taken wing and flown the nest, I had remained, hiding behind the need for my presence here now that Pa was getting older. And using the added excuse that it suited perfectly the career I had chosen, which was a solitary one.
Ironically, given the emptiness of my own personal life, I spent my days in a fictional and often romantic world, translating novels from Russian and Portuguese into French, my first language.
It had been Pa who had first noticed my gift, how I could imitate parrot-fashion any language that he cared to speak to me in. As an expert linguist himself, he enjoyed switching from one to the other and seeing if I could do the same in reply. By the time I was twelve, I was tri-lingual in French, German and English – all languages spoken in Switzerland – and was already proficient in Italian, Latin, Greek, Russian and Portuguese.
Languages were a real passion for me, a challenge that was endless, because however good I became, I could always be better. Words and the correct use of them absorbed me, so when it came to thinking about what I might study at university, the choice was an obvious one.
I turned to Pa for advice on which languages I should focus on.
He’d looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Well, Maia, it’s for you to choose, but perhaps it shouldn’t be the one you’re currently most in command of at present, as you’ll have three or four years at university to learn and perfect it.’
‘I really don’t know, Pa,’ I’d sighed. ‘I love them all. That’s why I’m asking you.’
‘Well then, I’ll give you a logical view, and tell you that in the next thirty years, the world’s economic power is going to radically shift. So if I were you, seeing how you’re already fluent in three major western languages, I’d look further afield.’
‘You mean countries like China and Russia?’ I’d queried.
‘Yes, and India and Brazil, of course. All countries that have vast untapped resources, and fascinating cultures too.’
‘I’ve certainly enjoyed Russian, and, in fact, Portuguese. It’s a very’ – I remember searching for the words – ‘expressive language.’
‘Well then, there you are.’ Pa smiled and I could see he was pleased with my answer. ‘Why don’t you study both languages? With your natural gift as a linguist, you could easily cope. And I promise you, Maia, that with either or both of those under your belt, the world will be your oyster. There are few people presently who have the vision to see what’s coming. The world is changing, and you’ll be at the vanguard of it.’
My throat felt parched and dry, and I rolled off the bed and padded into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. I thought about how Pa had hoped that I, armed with my unique skills, would step out confidently into the new dawn he was sure was coming. And back then, I’d thought that was almost certainly what I would do too. Apart from anything else, I’d been desperate to make him proud of me.
But as with so many people, life had happened to me and sent me spinning off my planned trajectory. And instead of providing a launch pad into the wider world, my skill-set had enabled me to hide away in my childhood home.
Whenever my sisters fluttered in from their varying existences across the world, they would tease me about my reclusive life. They told me I was in danger of ending up an old maid, for how was I ever to meet someone if I refused to set foot outside Atlantis?
‘You’re so beautiful, Maia. Everyone who meets you says the same, and yet you sit here alone and waste it,’ Ally had chided me the last time I’d seen her.
And it was probably true that it was my outer packaging that made me stand out in a crowd. Coming from a family of six sisters, we’d all been given our labels when we were younger, the key features that made us special:
Maia, the beauty; Ally, the leader; Star, the peacemaker; CeCe, the pragmatist; Tiggy, the nurturer; and Electra, the fireball.
The question was this: had the gifts we’d each been given brought us success and happiness?
Some of my sisters were still very young and hadn’t lived enough of their lives for them to know, or for me to judge. But for myself, I knew that my ‘gift’ of beauty had helped to bring about the most painful moment of my life, simply because I was too naive at the time to understand the power it wielded. So now, I hid it away, which meant hiding myself.
When Pa had been to visit me in the Pavilion lately, he’d often asked me if I was happy.
‘Of course, Pa.’ I’d always answered in the affirmative. After all, outwardly I had little reason not to be. I lived in total comfort, with two pairs of loving arms only a stone’s throw away. And the world, technically, was my oyster. I had no ties, no responsibilities . . . yet how I longed for them.
I smiled as I thought of Pa, only a couple of weeks ago, encouraging me to visit my old schoolfriend in London. And because it was Pa who suggested it, and I’d spent my adult life feeling that I’d disappointed him, I agreed. Even if I couldn’t be ‘normal’, I hoped he’d think I was if I went.
And so I’d gone to London . . . and returned to find that he had gone too. Forever.
By now it was four in the morning. I returned to my bedroom and lay down, desperate to drift into sleep. But it wouldn’t come. My heart began to beat against my chest as I realised that with Pa’s passing, I could no longer use him as an excuse to hide here. It might even be that Atlantis would be sold. Pa had certainly never mentioned anything to me about what would happen after his death. And as far as I knew, he’d said nothing to any of my sisters either.
Until a few hours ago, Pa Salt
had been omnipotent, omnipresent. A force of nature that had held us all securely aloft.
Pa used to call us his golden apples. Ripe and perfectly rounded, just waiting to be plucked. And now the bough had been shaken, and all of us had been sent tumbling to the ground, with no steady hand to catch us as we fell.
I heard someone knocking at my front door and stumbled groggily from the bed to answer it. In desperation a few hours earlier, as dawn was breaking, I’d searched for the sleeping pills I’d been prescribed years ago and taken one. As I glanced at the clock in the hall and saw it was past eleven, I wished that I hadn’t succumbed.
As I opened the door, Marina’s concerned face appeared from behind it. ‘Good morning, Maia. I tried your landline and mobile and there was no answer, so I came to check that you’re all right.’
‘Sorry, I took a pill and it knocked me out. Come in,’ I said, embarrassed.
‘No, I’ll let you wake up properly, then perhaps when you’ve taken a shower and got dressed, you could come over to the house? Tiggy called to let me know she’s arriving at around five tonight. She managed to get in touch with Star, CeCe and Electra, so they’re on their way home too. Any news from Ally?’
‘I’ll check my mobile and if not, I’ll call her again.’
‘Are you all right? You don’t look well at all, Maia.’
‘I’ll be fine, Ma, really. I’ll be over later.’
I closed the front door, and scuttled into the bathroom to throw some cold water on my face to jog me awake. As I looked in the mirror, I could see why Marina had asked if I was all right. Lines had appeared overnight around my eyes and there were huge blueish marks underneath them. My normally shiny, dark brown hair hung lank and greasy around my face. And my skin, usually an unblemished honey-brown that needed little make-up, looked puffy and pale.
‘Hardly the beauty of the family this morning,’ I muttered to my reflection, before searching in the tangled bedclothes for my mobile. Eventually finding it under the duvet, I saw there had been eight missed calls. I listened to my sisters’ voices, with their varying messages of disbelief and shock. The only sister who had still not responded to my SOS was Ally. Yet again I spoke to her voicemail and asked her to call me urgently.
Up at the house, I found both Marina and Claudia changing sheets and airing my sisters’ rooms on the top floor. I could see that Marina, despite her grief, was happy about her flock of girls returning to the roost. It was a rare occurrence these days for us all to be together under one roof. The last time had been in July, eleven months earlier, on Pa’s yacht, cruising round the Greek islands. At Christmas, only four of us were here at home, as Star and CeCe had been travelling in the Far East.
‘I’ve sent Christian off on the boat to collect the food and supplies I’ve ordered,’ said Marina as I followed her downstairs. ‘Your sisters are all so fussy these days, what with Tiggy being a vegan, and goodness knows which faddy diet Electra is on,’ she grumbled, part of her enjoying every second of the sudden chaos, which reminded her, I knew, of the days when we’d all been in her care. ‘Claudia’s been up since dawn in the kitchen but I thought we’d keep it simple tonight and have pasta and salad.’
‘Do you know what time Electra’s arriving?’ I asked her as we reached the kitchen where the mouth-watering smell of Claudia’s baking brought back a wave of childhood memories.
‘Probably not until the early hours. She’s managed to get on a flight from LA which takes her to Paris, and she’ll fly to Geneva from there.’
‘How did she sound?’
‘She was crying,’ Marina said. ‘Hysterically.’
‘And Star and CeCe?’
‘As usual, CeCe was in charge of their joint arrangements. I didn’t speak to Star. CeCe sounded utterly shocked, poor thing, like the wind had been taken out of her sails. They only arrived home from Vietnam ten days ago. Have some fresh bread, Maia. I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything yet this morning.’
Marina put a slice slathered with butter and jam in front of me. ‘I dread to think how they’re all going to be,’ I murmured as I took a bite.
‘They will all be as they always are, and react in their own, different ways,’ replied Marina sagely.
‘And of course, they all think they’re coming home for Pa’s funeral,’ I said with a sigh. ‘Even though it would have been a hugely upsetting event, at least it would also have been a rite of passage, a chance for us all to celebrate his life, put him to rest and then hopefully begin to move on. Now, they’ll arrive home simply to find their father gone.’
‘I know, Maia. But what’s done is done,’ said Marina sadly.
‘Surely, at the very least, there are friends or business associates that we should tell?’
‘Georg Hoffman said he would be doing all that. He called me again this morning to find out when you’d all be here, so he can arrange to come and see you. I told him I’d let him know as soon as we’d been in touch with Ally. Perhaps he can shed some light on the mysterious workings of your father’s mind.’
‘Well, I hope someone can,’ I muttered grimly.
‘Now, do you mind if I leave you to eat alone? I have a thousand things to do before your sisters arrive.’
‘Of course. Thank you, Ma,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what we’d all do without you.’
‘Or I without you.’ She patted me on the shoulder and left the kitchen.
4
Just after five that evening, after an afternoon of wandering aimlessly about the gardens, then trying to settle down to some translation work in an attempt to take my mind off Pa, I heard the motor launch pulling in at the jetty. Relieved that Tiggy had finally arrived and that at least I’d no longer be alone with my thoughts, I flung open the front door and ran across the lawns to greet her.
I watched her as she emerged gracefully from the boat. Pa had often suggested that she take ballet lessons when she was younger; for Tiggy didn’t walk, she floated, carrying her lithe, slim body so lightly, it was as if her feet didn’t touch the ground. She had an almost other-worldly presence, with her huge liquid eyes, framed by thick eyelashes, dominating her heart-shaped face. As I watched her, I was suddenly struck by her resemblance to the fragile young deer she so ardently took care of.
‘Darling Maia,’ she said, stretching out her arms towards me.
We stood for a moment in a silent embrace. When she pulled back from me, I saw her eyes were brimming with tears.
‘How are you?’ she asked.
‘Shell-shocked, numb . . . You?’
‘The same. Still unable to take it in,’ she replied as we began to walk towards the house, our arms clasped tightly around each other’s shoulders.
Tiggy stopped abruptly on the terrace and turned to me.
‘Is Pa . . . ?’ She glanced at the house. ‘If he is, I just need to prepare myself for a moment.’
‘No, Tiggy, he’s not in the house any longer.’
‘Oh, I suppose they’ve taken him to a . . .’ Her voice tailed off miserably at the thought.
‘Let’s go inside, have a cup of tea and I’ll explain everything.’
‘You know, I tried to feel him . . . I mean, his spirit,’ Tiggy said with a sigh. ‘But there’s simply a void; nothing there.’
‘Maybe it’s too soon to feel anything,’ I comforted, used to Tiggy’s strange ideas and not wishing to crush them with harsh pragmatism. ‘I certainly can’t,’ I added as we walked into the kitchen.
Claudia was at the sink and as she turned to see Tiggy – who I’d always suspected was her favourite – I saw the sympathy in her eyes.
‘Isn’t it just terrible?’ Tiggy said, giving her a hug. She was the only one of us who felt comfortable enough to physically embrace Claudia.
‘Yes, terrible indeed,’ agreed Claudia. ‘You and Maia go to the drawing room. I will bring tea to you in there.’
‘Where’s Ma?’ asked Tiggy as we made our way through the house.
‘Upstairs, putting th
e finishing touches to all your bedrooms. And she probably wanted us to have some time together first,’ I said as we sat down.
‘She was here? I mean, she was with Pa at the end?’
‘Yes.’
‘But why didn’t she contact us all sooner?’ Tiggy asked, just as I had.
For the next half an hour, I went through the answers to all the same questions I had bombarded Marina with yesterday. I also told her that Pa’s body had already been laid to rest in a lead box in the ocean, expecting her to be as outraged as I’d been. Tiggy simply gave a small shrug of understanding.
‘He wanted to return to the place he loved and have his body rest there forever. And in some ways, Maia, I’m glad I didn’t see him . . . lifeless, because now I can always remember him as he was.’
I studied my sister in surprise. Given she was the most sensitive of us all, the news of Pa’s death had evidently not affected her – outwardly at least – as much as I’d envisaged. Her thick chestnut hair shone round her face in a glossy mane, and her enormous brown eyes with their habitually innocent, almost startled, expression were positively sparkling. Tiggy’s calm perspective gave me hope that my other sisters might be as outwardly sanguine as she seemed, even if I wasn’t.
‘Ironically, you look wonderful, Tiggy,’ I complimented her, voicing my thoughts. ‘It seems all that fresh Scottish air must suit you.’
‘Oh, it does, definitely,’ she agreed. ‘After all those years as a child when I had to stay indoors, I feel I’ve been released into the wild too. I absolutely love my job, even though it’s hard work, and the cottage I’m staying in is incredibly basic. There’s not even an indoor loo.’
‘Wow,’ I said, admiring her ability to eschew all creature comforts in order to follow her passion. ‘So it’s more fulfilling than working in the laboratory at Servion Zoo?’
‘Oh God, completely.’ Tiggy raised an eyebrow. ‘To be honest, even though it was a great job, I hated it there, because I wasn’t working with the animals themselves, just analysing their genetic make-up. You probably think I’m mad to give up a great career to tramp across the Highlands day and night for almost zero pay, but I find it so much more rewarding.’
The Seven Sisters Page 3