The Butterfly Box (27 page)

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said and smiled timidly.

There, that’s better.’ He wiped her face with his thumbs. ‘You have so much to tell me. You’ve been living an adventure. I want to hear everything. Do you like England?’

‘Sort of. I have a best friend called Hester.’ She sniffed, cheering up.

‘What about that dog Mama was going to buy you?’ he asked.

‘She hasn’t yet.’

Ramon rolled his eyes. ‘Oh dear. Do you want one, as a Christmas present?’

‘No thank you. You’re my Christmas present and I couldn’t ask for anything else.’

Ramon had forgotten how much he loved his daughter. It had been too easy to forget. But now, as he held her against him again, his heart reeled with tenderness.

Suddenly the door opened with a low groan and out walked Helena. When she saw Federica in the embrace of a strange man she was about to object. But then she recognized the wide shoulders and the strong back and felt her head swim with uncertainty. When he turned around to face her she stood blinking

at him with her jaw open, not knowing what to say and fighting the impulse to slap him around the face and slate him for not having come months ago.

‘Helena.’ He said and smiled at her.

Helena stared back at him, her face pale in the blue winter light, her lips quivering, anxiously trying to find the words. ‘Ramon,’ she replied in confusion. Then added clumsily, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘As there was no one at the house I presumed you’d be at church,’ he replied casually, as if he dropped in all the time.

‘Yes, we are at church,’ she retorted stiffly, finding her wits again. ‘We’re at church. Now if you’d kindly let Fede go we’d like to finish the service,’ she said tightly, taking Federica by the arm.

‘I’m not leaving him,’ Federica hissed, grabbing onto his hand.

‘Fede, he’ll be here when we come out.’

‘I’m not leaving him,’ Federica repeated before dissolving into tears again.

‘It looks like I’m going to have to join you,’ said Ramon with a smirk, squeezing his daughter’s hand.

Helena pursed her lips together and let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘There’s very little room,’ she argued, not wanting to incite the curiosity of the

congregation by walking back up the aisle with Ramon.

I’ll find somewhere,’ he said, shrugging his big shoulders.

‘As you wish,’ Helena conceded, reluctantly opening the door.

Ramon followed her into the church, which he dwarfed with the sheer scale of his charisma. As they walked down the aisle Helena felt innumerable pairs of inquisitive eyes settle on her husband, eager to know who the strange, dark foreigner was. But Federica placed a proprietorial hand in his so that no one would be in any doubt that he was her father.

Jake and Polly’s eyes widened with surprise when Helena asked them to move up to make space for Ramon. They sat staring at him with their mouths agape like floundering fish. Fortunately Reverend Boyble was still merrily giving his sermon about the meaning of Christmas so they didn’t have the opportunity to ask questions or voice their shock. Federica grinned up at her father and held his warm hand in both of hers to prevent him from getting away. Hal squeezed closer to his mother, sensing her uneasiness and feeling fear but not understanding why. Helena wished she hadn’t been so unfriendly, but she was in shock, what did he expect? He could have let her know. A letter or a telephone call would have been nice. She sat scowling into her prayer book trying

to draw some peace from the words written on its pages, anything rather than look at him. She struggled with her pride, which longed for him to see her happy and settled and regret letting her go, and her heart, which suffered the weight of her memories and yearned for him still. Ramon sat back and glanced at the unfamiliar faces around him. Then he settled his gaze on his daughter whose tear-stained face glowed with love and pride. He was happy he had come.

Chapter 18

Once the service was over the church turned into a parochial cocktail party as the village wished each other a very happy Christmas. Ramon shook hands with Jake and kissed Polly on her stiff cheek as if he had seen them the week before. He lifted a reluctant, wriggling Hal into his arms and kissed his face before handing him back to Helena.

‘Does it surprise you that he doesn’t recognize you?’ she hissed.

Ramon lowered his eyes and shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave it this long,’ he replied, ashamed.

‘You never do,’ she retorted bitterly.

Federica took him by the hand and led him through the throng of strange people to meet the Applebys.

‘This is my father,’ she said proudly to Ingrid who extended her hand graciously.

‘It’s a great pleasure to meet you. Fede has told us so much about you,’ she said and smiled broadly.

‘You must be Hester’s mother,’ he said.

Ingrid’s face expressed her surprise. ‘Why, yes I am,’ she replied, wondering how he had worked that one out.

‘Fede’s lucky to have a best friend in Hester,’ he said. Federica squeezed his hand because he knew nothing about Hester except what she had told him outside.

Ingrid placed her monocle in her eye to study him in more detail. He was devastatingly handsome with the remote, mysterious eyes of a wolf. She also found his accent most charming; his was genuine, Nuno’s was not.

‘Come with me, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of my family,’ she said, gesticulating to her father and husband who stood talking to each other because they found the after-church chitchat with the village superficial and tiresome. Both longed to be back at the manor with their books. ‘Pa, Inigo, it gives me great pleasure to introduce Ramon Campione,’ she said and smiled broadly. ‘Isn’t he quite the most handsome thing Polperro has ever seen?’

Ramon chuckled to hide his discomfort but Federica’s grin increased until it was in danger of swallowing up her entire face.

‘Really, darling, you shouldn’t judge people by their appearance. I apologize for my wife,’ said Inigo, shaking Ramon firmly by the hand.

‘“It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances,”’ said Nuno, bowing to Ramon.

‘Ah, you’re an admirer of Oscar Wilde,’ he replied, bowing back.

Nuno’s eyes flickered their approval. ‘So are you. Now I hold you in great esteem. When can you come to lunch? I would like to show you my library,’ said Nuno, turning to his daughter and raising an eyebrow. ‘I could tell young Federica comes from a learned family.’

‘Ramon is a famous writer,’ said Ingrid, who knew all about him from Helena. ‘He’s highly regarded in Chile.’

‘I understand you have taken my daughter under your wing,’ said Ramon. ‘I’m very grateful to you.’

Ingrid patted Federica on her head as though she were a rather well behaved dog. ‘It’s a pleasure. My daughters adore her. My father is right, Ramon, you must come for lunch. How long are you staying?’ she asked, hoping he was going to stay for a long time. She liked nothing more than colourful people.

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘Divine! I love a man who takes every day as it comes. Much the best way to go through life. It lasts longer that way,’ she said and laughed. Then she leaned

in closer to him and whispered, ‘We have invited the vicar to lunch today, so I think we had best be heading back to Pickthistle Manor. You will come to lunch, won’t you?’ she added. ‘Tomorrow?’

‘Of course. It would be a pleasure,’ he replied with a courteous inclination of his head.

‘Good. Tomorrow it is then. Bring Helena and the children. It’s always a delight to see your wife.’

Helena was furious. ‘You want to go around presenting as a family?’ she raged. ‘How dare you show up here and take everything over.’

‘I’m not taking anything over. I came to see my children. Isn’t that what you wanted?’

‘You sweep in without a single apology for not writing, not calling, not being there when your children need you.’

‘I’m here now,' he replied.

‘You’re here now, but gone tomorrow. I had given up on you. It was easier to give up. Now you’re back I don’t know where I am any more.’ She folded her arms in front of her obstinately.

Ramon shrugged his shoulders and sighed. There was simply no point in arguing with her. He watched her rigid features; the bitter line of her mouth, the pinched skin and frozen eyes and remembered why he had let her go. ‘What more can I say? I’m sorry,’ he ventured in an attempt to alter her expression.

Her lips twitched as she pondered her next move. ‘I don’t want Fede to hear us arguing again,’ she said. ‘Let’s go for a walk and discuss this calmly.’

They walked up the lane, through a mossy wooden gate and into the field and woods beyond. Helena lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into the icy air where it floated on the cold like fog. Ramon was dismayed to find that Helena hadn’t changed at all in the months that they had been apart. She was just as unhappy as ever. She hadn’t even bothered to wash her hair for church. He was disappointed. He sensed a strange feeling of
deja v\a
along with those familiar contractions in his gut, that summoned him away.

‘So how long will you be staying?’ she asked as they walked up the field, their boots scrunching into the melting snow.

‘I don’t know yet,’ Ramon replied, struggling against the impulse to return as quickly as possible to the serene and untroubled home Estella had forged for

him.

‘Nothing’s changed, has it?’ she sighed. ‘Well, I’ll tell you how long you’ll stay, a week, perhaps ten days, then we’ll begin to bore you and you’ll be off again.’

‘You and the children never bored me,’ said Ramon seriously.

‘No?’ she retorted grimly. ‘Well, that’s what it felt like.’

‘Look, Helena. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to surprise you,’ he said, placing his large hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off ‘Fede was pleased to see me,’ he added and smiled a small, pensive smile.

‘Of course she was. But you haven’t been around for the past eleven months wiping her tears. Not a day has gone by when she hasn’t thought that perhaps, just maybe, today will be the day Papa turns up. What sort of a childhood is that, Ramon? If you just wrote regularly, kept in touch, let her know your plans then she wouldn’t live in such an uncertain world. It makes her very insecure, you know, and I suffer with her.’ Her voice dripped with bitterness.

‘I’ll try,’ he conceded.

‘And what about Hal?’ she continued. ‘It’s as if he doesn’t exist. You write to Fede but not to him. He’s your son and he needs you just as much as Fede

does. More so, because he’s never experienced your affection like she has.’

 

‘You’re right,’ he said simply. ‘You’re right about everything. I haven’t come here to fight with you.’

Helena blinked in surprise and kept her eyes fixed on the snow-laden trees in front of them. She hadn’t expected him to be so compliant.

They walked up the path until they came to the high cliffs which cut straight down to the sea. Helena led him to a small iron bench where she often came to sit alone and gaze out over the waters. There, the view that stretched out before her into the mists of infinity would take her soul back to the sweet days of her past before acrimony had seeped in to sour it. Now she sat down and surveyed the frosty sky and icy clouds with the man whose love had once been as intense as the sun. Once more the horizon dragged her spirits out of the shadows of her unhappiness and she remembered how it had been then. She felt her heart thaw in the midst of such splendour, in the midst of such vivid memories. She burrowed in her coat pocket for her cigarettes and lighter. With a shaking hand she lit one. She felt Ramon’s overbearing presence and the desire to cry. How did it all go so dreadfully wrong?

‘So, how are your parents?’ she asked after a while, placing a hand on her aching temple.

‘Well. They’re in Cachagua.’

‘I miss Cachagua,’ she said quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself. She didn’t look at him but continued to stare out over her memories. ‘I miss the heat, the sea, the smells. I never thought I would miss it, but I do.’

‘That’s the trouble with loving two countries, you always want to be in the one you’re not in. It gives one too much choice,’ he said. ‘Sometimes it’s better not to have the choice.’

‘Your life must be very hard indeed, you have the whole world to choose from,’ she said and chuckled resentfully.

‘You have two, sometimes that’s harder.’

‘Oh, I’m very happy here. Very, very happy,’ she said, but Ramon was not convinced and neither was she.

‘Have you got one of your headaches?’ he asked, noticing her massaging her temple with her hand.

‘Yes, but I’m fine, they come and go,’ she replied dismissively.

‘Come here,’ he said, moving her so that her back was facing him. She tried

to object but he silenced her with his assertiveness and placed his hands on her head and started massaging her.

‘Really, Ramon. I’m fine,’ she argued weakly as the sensation of his touch caused her skin to prickle with nostalgia.

‘You’re not fine. But I’m going to make you fine,’ he said and laughed.

She resented his cheerfulness and wondered why everything was always so straightforward for him.

Ramon’s fingers working into her skull were too pleasurable to resist so she ceased to fight and leant back against them, taking in a long, deep breath. As she relaxed her head his hands moved down to her shoulders, moving beneath her coat and sweater to her skin.

‘Tell me how the children have been?’ he asked and she told him about Federica’s infatuation with the Applebys, her crush on Sam and her progress at school.

‘She adores the Applebys,’ she said. ‘She never had many friends at school in Viña, but they’ve become like a second family to her. It’s done wonders for her confidence.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Oh, it’s wonderful. At first England frightened her. It was so cold and grey, not like the blue skies of Chile. It’s good we moved to the sea though, at least that’s familiar.’

Then she told him about Hal and her shoulders eased up and her throat loosened until she began to laugh without bitterness or resentment.

‘At least they are happy here,’ he said.

‘They seem to be.’ She closed her eyes to the luxurious feeling of his fingers sending the blood back into her dried-out muscles.

‘But what about you?’ he asked.

‘Oh, Ramon. I’m fine.’

‘I’m asking you as a friend, not as your husband.’

‘You’re still my husband,’ she said throatily and smiled, recalling a lost age when their shared happiness had eclipsed the impending unhappiness that would overwhelm them.

‘Okay, so I’m asking you as your husband.’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied, shaking her head.

‘What do you do all day?’

‘I look after Hal.’

‘What do you do for you?’

‘For me?’

‘For you,’ he repeated.

She thought about it for a while. She didn’t know what she did for her. She sometimes accompanied Federica up to the Applebys for tea, or took Hal to the beach. She visited Toby and Julian, chatted to her mother. But she couldn’t think of anything she did purely for her own pleasure.

‘I don’t know, Ramon. I can’t think of anything,’ she said bleakly and felt her throat constrict again with emotion. The children give me enormous pleasure.’ ‘Of course they do. But that’s domesticity. I mean an indulgence. A selfish pleasure which you don’t share with anyone.’

Helena considered his question - Ramon was a master of self-indulgence and she of sacrifice, that’s why it had all gone so wrong.

‘Everyone needs time to themselves,’ he continued. ‘A long bubble bath, a trip to the hairdresser, I don’t know what makes you happy.’

‘Well, I’ve lost touch with myself,’ she sighed, ‘because I don’t know either.’ ‘Perhaps you should start thinking about you. I give you enough money?’ he asked.

‘You give me more than enough money.’

‘Well, go and spend it, for God’s sake. I don’t know what you girls do, but buy a new dress, go to a beautician, enjoy yourself. Don’t chain yourself to the nursery; you’re not a domestic. If you need a domestic, hire one. If you need a house of your own, buy one. I don’t care but you have misery written all over your face and it’s not very attractive.’

Helena was stunned. She couldn’t remember the last time they had talked so frankly. She couldn’t remember the last time he had thought about her and her happiness. She felt her stomach stagger with the recollection of what it had been like when they had been friends. They had talked without pause, about everything and anything, laughed at the smallest things and communicated without words across the lines of love. She wondered when their conversation had dried up and why. She dared not turn around because she knew if she looked into his eyes she would close up again with uncertainty, so she kept her eyes shut in an effort to extend the moment.

‘I moved the children to England for me, but ironically they are the ones who enjoy it. Not me. I wonder, I don’t know, I wonder...’ She hesitated.

‘What?’ he asked quietly.

‘I wonder, oh God, Ramon, I can hardly say it.’