Page 150 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt

Despite Marina’s best attempts to feed, rock and coo, the baby’s screams were becoming louder and louder. Even with all her experience, Ma was looking somewhat frazzled.

‘Shall I have a go?’ I offered.

‘Please,’ she replied.

I stood up, and Ma passed her to me. ‘Come on, little one. It’s all right. I was nervous the first time I flew on an aeroplane, too.’ I left first class, and walked her to the back ofthe aircraft. Gladly, she responded positively to the motion and the change of scenery. When we reached the rear of the 747, some of the stewardesses were preparing coffees in a dimly lit crew area. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.’

‘Not at all, sir,’ a young blonde girl replied. ‘Aw, look at her! She’s adorable.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ I said, returning her smile.

‘It’s so nice to see a father helping with the newborns. Most just turn their noses up and wait until they can move themselves about.’ The stewardess leant over to gaze at the baby’s face. ‘Look at the way she stares at you. She loves her daddy so much.’

When she had finished fussing over my ward, I returned to the front of the aircraft with a quiet, if very awake, baby. I noticed that Marina had curled herself up and was snoozing happily in her seat. I certainly didn’t blame her. The last two days had been positively draining, physically and mentally. I gingerly stepped over her and shuffled back into my own seat, before looking down at the child.

‘Now then, we’re both going to be very quiet, so that Marina can have a sleep. Is that agreeable to you?’ I whispered. The baby blinked pointedly, and I chuckled. ‘Good girl.’ I had become aware of the sense of peace that holding the baby was giving me. The little bundle represented new beginnings, hope, opportunity... I wished for her an existence filled with love and joy. She gurgled at me. ‘Shh, shh, little one,’ I whispered.

Facing a long ten hours ahead, I looked around me for inspiration, and my gaze landed on the window to my left. The moon was shining brightly onto the clouds below, filling the sky with a brilliant luminescence. ‘Shall I tell you the story of the stars, little girl?’ I gently shifted her head from my left elbow to my right, so that she was angled towards the window. ‘There are more stars in the sky than grains of sand on allthe world’s beaches. I have always found that impossible to believe, but it is the truth. Since I was a boy, I have been fascinated with the infinite constellations, each one a symbol of possibility. You see, little one, stars are the givers of life. They provide light and warmth in the lonely dark sky.’ The baby began to blink more slowly, my voice having the desired soothing effect. ‘But there is one constellation out there which I find to be more magical than all the others combined, called the Pleiades. The story goes that there were seven sisters. Their father Atlas – with whom I share a name – was a Titan commanded by Zeus to hold up the earth. The sisters, though very different, lived happily together on the fresh new earth in its earliest days. But, after a chance meeting with the brutal hunter Orion, the girls became the objects of his relentless pursuit. So the sisters fled to the sky itself. You can see them tonight, look!’ I bent my head to peer up at the heavens from the bottom of the small plane window and managed to sneak a view of my eternal companions. ‘For my entire life, I have looked up at them for comfort and guidance. They are my protectors and my guiding lights. It is interesting that Maia appears brightest tonight. They say she used to outshine her sisters every night, but then, one day, Alcyone grew brighter. Actually, “Maia” means “Great One” in some translations. She was even seen by the Romans as their spring goddess, which is why our fifth month is known as “May”.’ I looked down at the baby, who had fallen asleep in my arms. ‘Oh, did I bore you, little one?’ I chuckled.

‘Perhaps,chéri, but you did not bore me.’ I turned around to see Marina gazing at me from the next-door seat.

‘I do apologise, Marina. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘I was just dozing.’ She glanced down at the baby. ‘My goodness. You really do have the magic touch. She loves you.’

A smile crossed my lips. ‘Do you think?’

‘I know,chéri. You have saved her from a difficult and sorry existence.’

‘We both have.’

Marina smiled. ‘Youtook on the duty of observing her family for years, and then sprang into action when someone faced danger. I do not know of anyone who would do what you have done. You are incredible, Atlas.’

‘Thank you, Marina. That is generous of you to say.’

She looked past me and out of the window. ‘Earlier, you asked me if it was our responsibility to name her. I think you already know what she is called.’ She pointed out of the window to the moonlit landscape.

‘Maia...’ I replied.

Those first few weeks were a maelstrom of nappies, burping and long nights of feeding. I had insisted that Marina move into the main house so that I might provide support during the small hours. I think those were some of my favourite moments – when Maia and I were alone, in the still of the night, with only the sound of the lapping lake for company. She has taught me so much, without ever uttering a word. For thirty years, I have been so focused on finding Elle and chasing the prophecy given to me by Angelina that I have become closed off to others. I was self-absorbed, single-minded and obsessed. Baby Maia has opened my eyes. I am alive in a way which I have not been for years.

Marina says she knew the moment I laid eyes on Maia that I would never be able to part with her. Indeed, I had accepted my destiny before the wheels of the plane touched down at Charles de Gaulle. Maia had been as good as gold for the entire flight, and listened to my entire repertoire of Seven Sisters mythology to boot. To cradle such an innocent, fragile human in my ageing hands reminded me of this world’s most comforting lesson: that whatever may happen, life prevails.

I had been nervous about telling Marina of my decision, worried that she would think me ill-equipped for the position of parent. I needn’t have been so concerned. In fact, her face flooded with joy.

‘Oh, this is truly wonderful news,chéri! Of course it is right that you legally adopt Maia. You need her as much as she needs you.’

I embraced her, before stating the inevitable. ‘I cannot do it on my own, Marina.’

She laughed. ‘Nor should you! I’ve watched you trying to put on a nappy. I think an orangutan could do it with more precision!’

‘You’re saying that you will stay and care for Maia?’ I asked with excitement.

‘Yes,chéri. Of course.’

Georg finalised the adoption papers. At his suggestion, Maia’s surname has been registered as ‘D’Aplièse’ to prevent any unwelcome attention that may arise as a result of her being a ‘Tanit’.

And just like that, I am a father.