The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (14 page)

I stood up again and wandered over to the shelves to pull down the ship in a bottle Pa Salt had given me for my seventh birthday. I stared at the intricate wood and canvas model inside the glass
and smiled as I remembered how I’d pestered Pa to tell me how it could have got inside the thin bottleneck.

‘It’s magic, Ally,’ he’d whispered secretively. ‘And we must all believe in that.’

Retrieving my diary from my rucksack and desperate to feel him close again, I drew out the letter he’d written me. Checking the details, I decided I would go downstairs to his study and
look for the book he’d suggested I read.

I stood in the doorway of his study, letting the familiar smell of citrus, fresh air and safety fill my nostrils.

‘Ally! Forgive me for not being here when you arrived. I didn’t know you were coming, but what a wonderful surprise!’

‘Ma!’ I turned around to embrace her. ‘How are you? I had a few days off and I wanted to make sure you were all right.’

‘Yes, yes . . .’ she said rather hurriedly. ‘And how are you,
chérie
?’

I felt her keen, intelligent eyes appraise me. ‘You know me, Ma, I’m never sick.’

‘And we both know I wasn’t asking after your health, Ally,’ Ma replied gently.

‘I’ve been busy, so I think that has helped. We won the regatta, by the way,’ I offered lamely, not ready to tell Ma about Theo and the possible happiness I’d found just
yet. Being here at Atlantis with Pa gone made it feel inappropriate.

‘Maia is here too. She went to Geneva earlier, just after the . . . friend she brought with her from Brazil left. She’ll be back soon, and will be happy to see you, I’m
sure.’

‘And I her. She sent me an email a few days ago and she sounded really happy. I can’t wait to hear more about her trip.’

‘Now, how about a cup of tea? Come into the kitchen and you can tell me all about the regatta.’

‘Okay.’ I followed Ma dutifully out of Pa’s study. Perhaps it was just that I had turned up at home without calling first, but I sensed she was tense, her usual serenity
temporarily deserting her. We chatted about Maia and the Cyclades race and twenty minutes later, we heard the launch approaching. I went to greet Maia on the jetty.

‘Surprise!’ I said, throwing my arms open to her.

‘Ally!’ Maia looked amazed. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Strangely enough, this is my home too,’ I said with a grin as we walked up to the house together arm in arm.

‘I know, but I wasn’t expecting you.’

We decided to sit on the terrace, and I went to fetch a jug of Claudia’s home-made lemonade. I studied Maia as I listened to her talk of her recent trip to Brazil, and thought she looked
more alive than I’d seen her for years. Her skin glowed, and her eyes sparkled. Discovering her past through Pa Salt’s posthumous clues certainly seemed to have helped to heal her.

‘And Ally, there’s something else I want to tell you. That perhaps I should have told you a long time ago . . .’

Then she told me what it was that had happened at university to make her hide away ever since. Tears came to my eyes as I listened to the story, and I reached out my hand to comfort her.

‘Maia, how dreadful that you had to go through that all alone. Why on earth didn’t you tell me? I’m your sister! I always thought we were close. I would have been there for
you, I really would.’

‘I know, Ally, but you were only just sixteen at the time. And, besides, I was ashamed.’

I asked then who this dreadful person was who had caused my sister so much pain.

‘Oh, no one you’d know. He was someone I met at university called Zed.’

‘Zed Eszu?’

‘Yes. You may have heard his name on the news. His father was the tycoon who committed suicide.’

‘And whose boat I saw close to Pa’s that terrible day when I heard he’d died, if you remember,’ I said with a shudder.

‘Ironically, it was Zed who inadvertently forced me onto the plane to Rio when I was originally deciding whether to go or not. After fourteen years of silence, he left me a voicemail
message out of the blue, saying he had to come to Switzerland and asking if we could meet up.’

I looked at her oddly. ‘He wanted to meet
you
?’

‘Yes. He said he’d heard about Pa’s death and suggested that perhaps we could cry on each other’s shoulders. If anything was going to send me scurrying away from
Switzerland, that was it.’

I asked her if Zed knew what had happened to her all those years ago.

‘No.’ Maia shook her head firmly. ‘And if he did, I doubt he’d care.’

‘I think you were definitely best rid of him,’ I said darkly.

‘You know him, then?’

‘Not personally, no. But I have a . . . friend that does. Anyway,’ I said, recovering before Maia could question me further, ‘it sounds as though getting on that plane was the
best thing you’ve ever done. Now, you still haven’t told me much about this gorgeous Brazilian you had in tow. I think Ma rather fell for him. When I arrived she could talk of nothing
else. He’s a writer, apparently?’

We chatted briefly about him, and then Maia asked about me. Deciding this was
her
moment to talk of having found someone after all these years, I refrained from telling her about Theo
and talked about the Fastnet and the upcoming Olympic trials instead.

‘Ally! That’s fantastic! Do let me know how you get on, won’t you?’ she begged me.

‘Of course I will.’

At that moment Marina appeared on the terrace.

‘Maia,
chérie
, I didn’t know you were home until I saw Claudia just now. Christian gave me this earlier; I’m afraid I forgot to give it to you.’

Marina handed Maia an envelope and her eyes lit up as she recognised the handwriting. ‘Thank you, Ma.’

‘Will you two girls be wanting supper?’ Ma asked us.

‘If there’s any going, absolutely. Maia?’ I looked at her. ‘Will you join me? It’s not often we get the chance for a catch-up these days.’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said, standing up. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’m going back to the Pavilion for a while.’

Ma and I looked knowingly at Maia and the letter clasped in her hands.

‘See you later,
chérie
,’ said Marina.

As I followed Ma back into the house, I felt extremely unsettled by what Maia had just told me. In one sense, it was good that we had cleared the air and that I now understood why Maia had
become so distant after university and thrown herself into what had amounted to self-imposed exile. But the fact she’d told me it was Zed Eszu who had been the cause of her pain was a
different matter altogether . . .

With six girls in the family, and each one of us so very different, the amount of gossip about boyfriends and love affairs had varied depending on the character of the particular sister. Up
until now, Maia had been totally closed about her private life and Star and CeCe had each other and rarely talked to the rest of us. Which left Electra and Tiggy, who had
both
confided in
me over the years . . .

I went upstairs to my room, pacing restlessly and pondering the morals of knowing something that potentially affected other people that I loved, and whether one should share such information or
keep quiet. However, having just had Maia open up to me for the first time in years, I decided it was
her
decision whether or not to tell our other siblings the story. What good would it
do to have me interfere?

Having decided that, I checked my mobile, and smiled spontaneously as I saw a text from Theo.

My darling Ally. I miss you. Trite but true.

I replied immediately.

Me too (even triter).

As I took a shower before going down to join Maia for dinner, I longed to tell her of my own wonderful newfound love, but I reminded myself again that, after all these years, this must be her
moment and mine could wait for another time.

Over supper, Maia announced that she was returning to Brazil the following day.

‘We only have one life, don’t we, Ma?’ she said as she sat there glowing with happiness, and I thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

‘Yes, we do,’ said Ma. ‘And if the past few weeks have taught us anything, it’s that.’

‘No more hiding,’ Maia said as she raised her glass. ‘Even if it doesn’t work out, at least I will have tried.’

‘No more hiding,’ I toasted her with a smile.

Marina and I waved and blew kisses as we watched Maia leave Atlantis.

‘I’m so happy for her,’ said Ma, surreptitiously wiping her eyes as we turned and walked back to the house, where we chatted about Maia’s difficult past and apparently
rosy future over a cup of tea. It was obvious from what Ma said that she shared similar feelings about Zed Eszu too. I finished my tea and then I told her I needed to go and check my emails.

‘Is it okay if I use Pa’s study?’ I asked, knowing it had the best internet signal in the house.

‘Of course it is. Remember, this is yours and your sisters’ house now,’ Ma said with a sad smile.

Bringing my laptop down from my bedroom, I opened the door to my father’s study, which looked as it always had, its oak-panelled walls complementing the comfortable antique furniture. I
sat down tentatively in Pa Salt’s leather-seated captain’s chair, placing my laptop on the walnut desk in front of me. As it went through the process of opening, I swivelled the chair
round to gaze blankly at the cornucopia of objects Pa had kept on his shelves. There was no particular theme to them and I’d always assumed they were just items that had taken his fancy on
his varied travels. My eyes then sought out the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that lined one wall, wondering where the book he’d mentioned in his letter might be. As I noted Dante nestling
alongside Dickens and Shakespeare alongside Sartre, I realised the books were organised in alphabetical order, and were as eclectic and varied in taste as Pa himself had been.

The temperamental laptop then decided to tell me it wanted to shut down, having just opened up, so while I waited for it to reboot, I stood up and went over to Pa’s CD player. All of us
had tried to move him on to an iPod, but even though he had a raft of sophisticated computers and electronic communication equipment in his study, he’d said he was too old to change, and
preferred to physically ‘see’ the music he wanted to play. Switching the CD player on, fascinated to discover what Pa Salt had been listening to last, the room was suddenly filled with
the beautiful opening bars of Grieg’s ‘Morning Mood’ from the
Peer Gynt
Suite.

I was rooted to the spot, as a wave of memories assailed me. It had been Pa’s favourite orchestral piece, and he’d often asked me to play the opening bars for him on my flute. It had
become the theme tune of my childhood and it reminded me of all the glorious sunrises we’d shared when he’d taken me out on the lake and patiently taught me to sail.

I missed him so very much.

And I also missed someone else.

As the music swelled from the hidden speakers, filling the room with glorious sound, on instinct, I picked up the receiver of the phone on Pa’s desk to make a call.

Holding the receiver to my ear as I made to dial the number, I realised someone else in the house was already on the line.

The shock of hearing the familiar, resonant tones of the voice that had comforted me from childhood forced me to interrupt the conversation.

‘Hello?!’ I said, hurriedly reaching over and turning the CD player down to make absolutely sure it was him.

But the voice at the other end had become a monotonous bleeping, and I knew he had gone.

I sat, gulping in breaths, then stood up, went into the hall and shouted for Ma. My cries also brought Claudia running from the kitchen. By now, I was sobbing hysterically and as Ma appeared at
the top of the stairs, I went towards her.

‘Ally,
chérie
, what on earth is the matter?’

‘I . . . I just heard him, Ma! I heard him!’

‘Who,
chérie
?’

‘Pa Salt! He was speaking on the line when I picked up the study phone to dial a number. Oh my God! He’s not dead, he isn’t dead!’

‘Ally.’ I saw Ma shoot Claudia a sharp glance as she put an arm around me and led me into the drawing room. ‘Please,
chérie
, try and calm down.’

‘How can I?! I knew instinctively that he wasn’t dead, Ma, which means he’s somewhere still alive. And someone in this house was talking to him . . .’ I looked at her
accusingly.

‘Ally, really, I understand what you think you heard, but there is a simple explanation for it.’

‘And what on earth could that be?’

‘The telephone rang a few minutes ago. I heard it but was too far away to pick it up, so it clicked into voicemail. What I’m sure you heard was your father’s voicemail
message.’

‘But I was sitting right in front of the handset and I didn’t hear the telephone ring before I picked it up!’

‘But you were playing music very loudly, Ally. I could certainly hear it all the way upstairs in my room. Perhaps the ring was drowned out.’

‘You’re sure that you weren’t on the telephone to him? Or maybe Claudia was?’ I asked her desperately.

‘Ally, however much you need me to tell you something different, I’m afraid that I can’t. Do you want to use your mobile and dial the house number? If you leave it for four
rings, you’ll hear your father’s voice message. Try it, please,’ she entreated me.

I shrugged, now feeling embarrassed that I had accused Ma and Claudia of lying to me.

‘No, of course I believe you,’ I said. ‘I just . . .
wanted
it to be him. To think that this whole terrible situation had all been a mistake.’

‘It’s what we all wish, Ally, but your father’s gone, and nothing any of us can do will bring him back.’

‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,
chérie
. If there’s anything I can do . . .’

‘No,’ I said as I stood up. ‘I’ll go and make my phone call.’

Marina smiled at me with sympathy in her eyes as I walked back into Pa Salt’s study, where I sat down once more at the desk and studied the phone. Picking up the receiver, I dialled
Theo’s number and his mobile phone went to voicemail. Wanting to speak to the real thing and not a machine, I replaced the receiver abruptly without leaving a message.