The Butterfly Box (28 page)

‘Say it. You’ll feel a hell of a lot better if you do.'

‘Have I made a huge mistake?’

Ramon stopped massaging her shoulders. She sat up and turned to face him. He looked at her with dark, impenetrable eyes and she felt herself slowly closing up again with inhibition and shame.

‘Have you made a mistake?’ he asked seriously, thinking of Estella and hoping she wasn’t suddenly going to change her mind.

‘I don’t know whether I’ve made a mistake leaving Chile. I miss it. Perhaps it’s nothing more than nostalgia,’ she added dismissively.

‘Perhaps,’ he agreed thoughtfully.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think you need to give it a chance here,’ he said. ‘You need to throw yourself into it like Fede has.'

‘It’s much easier for children. They just get on with things and don’t brood.’

‘Look,’ he said. ‘It was your choice, Helena. I never asked you to leave. I didn’t want you to. But I understood why you did and I support your choice. I think you are encountering the same problems here as the ones you faced in

Chile. You’re a mother on her own who’s dedicated her life to her children. I think you’ll find if you dedicate some of that time to you your feelings might change. You’re young, you’re good-looking.’ She blushed and turned her face away. ‘You need to find a hobby, something that takes you out of yourself and out of the home.’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she said, feeling happier. ‘You know, we haven’t talked like this for years.’

‘I know. We were too busy resenting each other, we now know where we both stand.’

She looked at his diffident profile as he stared out across the sea. Then lowered her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said sadly. ‘We do.’

Federica was so happy to have her father back that she was unable to sleep. Her parents slept in different bedrooms, but she didn’t mind. She was grateful that he was there at all. Jake and Polly accepted his sudden arrival once they saw how he and Helena got on much better than they had predicted. There were no fights, no tantrums, no bitter comments, no tears. Helena washed her hair, applied makeup and even bought herself some new outfits in town. They

disappeared every day as a family. They went for walks along the beach with the children, explored ruined castles and hidden caves. In fact, they did all the things that they had done ten years before when they had first met. The only difference was that they didn’t kiss and they didn’t laugh quite as much. But Helena was less resentful and Ramon more attentive to her needs. She no longer felt numb inside but regained her awareness. Her indifference had, after all, been nothing more than a rebellion of the senses, a stagnation of the heart. As her anger dissolved she discovered she cared. While they retraced the paths of their courtship she began to find the man she had fallen in love with behind those dense eyes and her spirit stirred for him again.

Ingrid was enchanted by the swarthy foreigner who had suddenly appeared in their midst. He had come for lunch on Boxing Day with Helena and the children and entertained her with stories which he recounted in his thick accent and foreign intonation. She wished she spoke Spanish because she would have bought every book he’d ever written. But he charmed her none the less with stories he invented off the top of his head and tales of his adventures that he embellished with his rich imagination until he had captivated the attention

of the whole table, even the lofty Sam who was usually bored by the men his mother suddenly ‘took shines to’.

The weeks that ensued were punctuated with invitations to Pickthistle Manor. Helena felt herself swelling with pride as Ramon dazzled everyone with his presence and his uniqueness. The atmosphere was charged with a rare energy when he was present and no one felt it more than his wife.

‘Why you’re the other side of the world from this delightful young man is beyond me,’ Nuno said to Helena one day over lunch.

‘Oh, Nuno, it’s not that simple. You don’t have to live with him,’ she laughed.

‘No one else will have me besides Ingrid so it’s not an option,’ he replied, looking down at her loftily with intelligent blue eyes. ‘Sometimes one realizes what one has lost when it is too late. I hope, my dear, that you won’t suffer the same fate.’

‘He’s here for the children, not for me,’ she said coolly. But she looked across the table at Ramon’s animated face and wished he had come for her. She wished he could just bury his pride and beg her to come back to him. She

wished he could change for her. But her heart sank because she knew the true nature of the man. He was like the wind and he always would be - he’d never know where he was going to blow next.

‘Ramon’s the same as ever, Nuno, when he’s with you, you feel there’s no one in the world more special to him than you. Take Federica, for example.’ They both looked over at the small child who clung onto every word her father said. Everything she did was for his benefit; her laughter, her jokes, her stories, her comments, her smiles. She worshipped him. ‘Federica believes he loves her more than anyone else in the whole world. Right now he does. I really believe that. He’s full of remorse that he didn’t come earlier, that he never wrote or called. He’s mortified. Wracked with guilt. But then he’ll be off soon and we won’t hear from him for months, perhaps years. Because with Ramon, out of sight is out of mind, I’m afraid.’

‘Love is understanding someone’s faults and loving them in spite of them,’ said Nuno philosophically.

‘Is that a quote?’ she chuckled.

‘No. It’s mine, but unfortunately not terribly original. None the less, it’s true.’

‘Ramon and I spent years trying to understand each other until we gave up trying.’

‘It’s never too late to try again.’

‘I don’t know. I think we’ve always misunderstood one another.’

“‘To be great is to be misunderstood,”’ Nuno quoted. ‘Ralph Waldo Emerson. A very perceptive man.’

‘So I see.’

‘He also said another very acute thing, my dear.’

‘What is that?’

Nuno leant over to her and whispered in her ear. “‘We are always getting ready to live, but never living.’”

Helena thought about that all through lunch and throughout the afternoon. Indeed, for some reason she was unable to think of anything else.

‘Fede?’ said Hal, brushing his teeth over the basin.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you think Papa is going to stay?’

Federica hung his wet towel over the radiator. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, not

wishing to voice her hope in case she raise her brother’s unnecessarily.

‘Maybe he’ll take us back to Viña,’ he added, spitting into the running water.

‘I don’t think he’ll take us back to Viña, Hal,’ she replied carefully.

‘Why not?’

‘Because we live here now.’

‘I would rather live in Viña,' he said decisively.

‘But you love it here with Granny and Grandpa,’ she insisted.

‘I miss Abuelito.’ He pulled a sad face.

‘So do I, Hal.’

‘Grandpa doesn’t carry me on his shoulders or swing me around by the arms,’ he complained.

‘I know.’

‘Or take me riding.’

‘He’s very busy.’

‘I want to go back to Viña. I think Abuelito misses me.’

‘I’m sure he does. I’m sure they both do,' she said wistfully. ‘It’s bedtime now, Hal. Shall I read you a story?’

‘Where’s Mama?’ he asked, padding out of the bathroom in his bare feet.

‘At Joey and Lucien’s house.’

‘She’s always up there.’

‘I know. She likes the Applebys.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘You always play with Joey.’

‘I don’t like Joey.’

Federica sighed in anticipation of a row. ‘Come on. I’ll read you a story,’ she cajoled brightly.

‘I want Mama to read me a story,’ he insisted. ‘I won’t go to bed until she does.’

‘What about Granny then?’

‘I want Mama,’ he whined and folded his arms in front of him stubbornly.

All right,’ she sighed. ‘Get into bed and wait until Mama comes back, she shouldn’t be long.’ But Federica knew that by the time she returned they’d both be asleep.

It was late when Federica heard the wheels of the car scrunch on the gravel in the driveway outside her window. The light penetrated her bedroom for a moment before she was once more plunged into darkness as the engine was switched off. She listened for their voices as her parents hurried in out of the cold. They were laughing, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She hadn’t heard her mother sound so happy in a long time. She sat up in bed and strained her ears for some indication that her father might stay, but she only heard muffled voices that revealed nothing except a growing friendliness between them.

‘I really enjoyed tonight,’ said Helena, climbing the stairs. Federica cowered in the darkness, watching as her mother came into view through the crack in the door.

‘Me too,’ Ramon agreed, following closely behind her.

Helena hesitated outside Federica’s room. ‘I’m glad you like the Applebys,’ she said softly so as not to waken her children.

‘Nuno’s an original,’ he chuckled. ‘As for Inigo.’

‘You’re the only one I know who gets Inigo’s point. He barely talks to anyone, shuts himself up in his study all the time. It must be exasperating for

Ingrid.’

‘I have to admit I find him fascinating.’

‘I can’t imagine what you talk about.’

‘Everything.’

‘Really?’

‘He’s learned and wise. You just have to penetrate his disappointment.’

‘Disappointment?’ She frowned.

‘He doesn’t have Nuno’s ability to rise above the world.’

‘Like Ingrid.’

‘Exactly. He spends his days pondering life and dwelling only on the negative. If we look hard enough we can find ugliness in anything. The trick is not to look for it.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said lamely and chuckled to hide her ignorance. ‘Thank you for making such an effort with Hal these last few days.’

‘He’s a sweet boy,’ Ramon replied.

‘He is, but you never knew him. It’s important for him to feel your affection.

I know Federica’s more interesting to you. She’s older and more outwardly

loving. But Hal loves you too, he just doesn’t understand it.’

‘It’s been good for me to see them.’ He nodded then yawned.

‘It’s been good for us, too,’ she said and looked at him steadily.

He caught her eyes and smiled ruefully. ‘It has,’ he agreed in such a low voice, that Federica hardly heard him.

‘I’m glad you came.’

‘Me too.’

They both hovered awkwardly before Ramon walked on up the corridor. ‘Goodnight, Helena.’

‘Sleep well, Ramon.’ She watched him go with tenderness. Then she too disappeared out of sight.

Federica felt a shudder of anticipation cause her skin to shiver as if it were cold. But she felt very hot and very excited. She squeezed her eyes closed and hoped that what she had just witnessed was the beginning of a new love affair between her parents. She was sure then that her father would stay.

Helena lay in bed and thought of Ramon. She then thought about what Nuno had said. ‘We are always getting ready to live, but never living.’ She repeated it

again and again in her head, pondering on the meaning and how it applied to her. Nuno was so right. Ramon was living. He didn’t bother about preparation; he just rushed off to live as much as he could, whereas she was always preparing to live. Ramon was like a large bird. For him there were no frontiers, he just flew where he wanted, when he wanted. She envied his spontaneity yet resented his lack of responsibility. He didn’t answer to anyone, not even the pleas of his children. Much less the entreaties of his wife. But, he was certainly living. Ralph Waldo Emerson would have approved of Ramon.

She lay in solitude and yet, tonight, her solitude felt heavier and more uncomfortable than ever before. She stared up into the blackness and remembered those early days with Ramon when she had curled up in the warm reassurance of his embrace and slept without doubts. She felt his presence in the house because it was as dense as smoke and hot like fire. She was powerless to ignore it and unwilling to fight it any longer. She remembered Ralph Waldo Emerson and climbed out of bed.

She slipped into her dressing gown, opened her bedroom door and crept down the corridor towards Ramon’s room. She didn’t hesitate outside his door as she had done that terrible night the previous January, but opened it quietly

and walked into the darkness. ‘Ramon,’ she whispered. He stirred beneath his bedclothes. ‘Ramon,’ she repeated. He stirred again. She felt her way to the bed and prodded him. ‘Ramon.’

He woke up. ‘Helena?’ he mumbled. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m cold,’ she said, because she couldn’t think of anything better to say. Her body was trembling all over, surprised by the impetuosity that had suddenly overcome it. ‘Can I get in?’

Ramon shuffled to make room for her. She climbed in beside him and pulled the covers about her. ‘What do you want, Helena?’ he asked. But she ignored the impatient tone of his voice and persisted.