The Butterfly Box (56 page)

‘I never really felt I belonged to Papa,’ said Hal suddenly.

Federica looked at his troubled face and pulled a thin smile of sympathy. ‘I know. He ignored you didn’t he?’ she agreed softly.

‘It’s odd because I was so small, but I’ve felt his rejection through the years.’

‘You were Mama’s golden boy, though.’

That came with a price, believe me.’

‘Pretty suffocating, I know.’ Federica shook her head as she remembered her mother’s overwhelming neediness and constant discontent.

‘She’s a deeply unhappy woman,’ Hal mused. ‘I grew up with the responsibility of making her happy where everyone else had failed. You know, Arthur’s given up on her too, just like Papa did. I really thought Arthur could make her

happy.’

‘Oh, don’t give up on Arthur,’ she chuckled with a smile.

‘What do you mean?’ He frowned. ‘I thought you hated Arthur.’

‘I did. But I never gave him a chance. He’s a good man and Mama’s lucky to have him.’ She noticed the perplexed expression on his face and added, ‘I went to see him, Hal. They still love each other.’

‘Well, that’s good.’ Hal sighed. ‘She’s not all bad. Just very misguided.’

‘It’s taken a while to get over Papa, but I think she learnt the hard way. “In much wisdom is much grief,”’ she quoted wisely.

‘You sound like Sam Appleby,’ he said.

Federica grinned. ‘Do I?’

‘Yes, his pomposity is catching. You’ve obviously been spending too much time with him.’ Hal gazed out of the window. ‘Why do you suppose Papa deserted us?’ he asked tentatively, changing the subject. They had never talked about their father like this before. They’d never dared ask those questions.

Federica lowered her eyes. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, allowing thoughts of Sam Appleby to dissolve into her father’s shadow. ‘But I’m going to ask him. I need to know and so do you.’

‘What makes you think he’ll be happy to see us?’

 

 

‘I just know it,’ she replied firmly.

 

‘He could always have come to see us in England but he didn’t. So why’s he going to be pleased to see us now?’

‘I know what you’re saying, Hal,’ she said carefully. ‘Just trust me. I know he regrets the past and I know he still cares.’

Hal rested his eyes on the magnificence that surrounded him, so far from the cold cliffs of Cornwall and felt a deep yearning in his soul. He felt as if an invisible force was filling his spirit with something weightless so that his body felt buoyant and bursting with optimism.

Ramon sat on the terrace of his parents’ beach house, looking out across the sea that lay still and gleaming in the late morning light. He had barely slept at all for his mind had itched with guilt and anxiety - how was he going to explain himself to the two children he had abandoned long ago and left to mourn him? How was he going to explain Ramoncito to them - and Estella? Would they understand? How was Ramoncito going to feel suddenly finding himself having to share his father’s devotion when he had grown up with the exclusive

right to it? He looked at his watch; they’d be arriving soon. He felt his stomach churn with nerves. He knew he should have gone to pick them up at the airport, but he needed the moral support of his parents.

Mariana had agreed with him. ‘Much better that they see us all together at the house, less pressure all round,’ she had said.

‘Here, son,’ said Ignacio, handing him a tumbler of rum. ‘You look as though you need it.’

‘I don’t know what to expect,’ he said sheepishly.

‘Don’t think about it too much,’ said Ignacio simply, sitting down opposite Ramon and pulling his panama hat onto his head to protect him from the sun. ‘They’re coming out to see you because you’re their father, not to torment you. Let bygones be bygones and get to know each other again. That’s my advice.’

‘So much has happened,’ said Ramon, staring into his glass. ‘Estella, Ramoncito ..

‘Life goes on. It has many chapters yet it’s one book. There’s a common thread that runs through each chapter.’

‘What’s that, Papa?’ said Ramon, sighing heavily.

‘Love,’ said Ignacio bluntly. Ramon frowned at him, but his father just

nodded back. Tm old and wise, son, I should be after eighty-four years, and I’ve picked a few things up in my life. That’s one of them. Learn something from an old man.’ He chuckled. ‘Love will unite you all, you’ll see.’

That and forgiveness,’ said Ramon, knocking back his glass. ‘A large dose of forgiveness.’

As the car drove up the coast Federica and Hal began to reminisce with growing excitement. They recognized the shack where they had always stopped en route to their grandparents’ house, where Ramon had always bought them drinks and
empanadas
, where the Chilean children had played football with an empty Coke can under the sycamore trees. They were both struck at how little it had changed in so many years, as if they were driving through a strange void which time was incapable of penetrating.

When they descended the dusty track into Cachagua itself they were both too moved and anxious to speak any more. Hal took Federica’s hand, which surprised her for it had always been she who had initiated any demonstrations of affection. She squeezed it, grateful for his support for she was nervous too. The thatched houses were the same, surrounded by verdant trees and bushes,

although there were more of them. When the car drew up outside the familiar walls of their grandparents’ house they both heard the thumping of their hearts as they beat loudly and in unison.

‘I’m scared,’ Hal confessed.

‘Me too,’ Federica replied hoarsely. ‘But we’re here now, so let’s just plunge on in,’ she said, trying to make light of their fear.

Ramon heard the engine of the car and then the expectant silence that followed when the ignition was turned off. He heard the doors open and close. He looked across at his parents and Ramoncito, who had all got to their feet and were making their way into the house. Mariana’s old legs were slow but she bustled through the sitting room as fast as she could go, her breathing heavy with excitement. Ramoncito didn’t understand his father’s uneasiness and was caught up in the enthusiasm of his grandparents. He had always wondered what his half-siblings were like, often fantasizing that they lived in Chile so that he could enjoy the fun of having a large family like all his school friends, who often had as many as ten brothers and sisters to play with.

Ignacio turned to his son who hesitated on the terrace, pale-faced and

apprehensive. ‘Son, it’s like diving into the sea, the anticipation is uncomfortable but once you’re in the water is warm and pleasant.’ He smiled at him in understanding. ‘You just have to take the plunge and not think about it.’ Ramon nodded at him and followed his unsteady old frame into the dark interior of the house where it was cool and smelt of tuberose. In his mind he still imagined Federica as he had seen her as a thirteen-year-old child on her bicycle in Cornwall. Hal he remembered less well and that made him feel guiltier than ever.

When Federica and Hal saw their grandmother hurry out of the house to greet them their hearts ceased to beat with anxiety but accelerated with joy. She was much greyer and appeared smaller because the last time they had seen her they had been children. But her smile and her tears were the same expressions of her gentle nature that had clung to their memories for almost two decades and they ran to her and embraced her. She wanted to tell them how tall they were, how beautiful Federica was and how handsome Hal was, but her throat ached with emotion and her lips trembled with regret because she was old and had lost countless precious years of their growing up. So she embraced them

again, gesticulating with her shaking hands and expressive face all the things she was unable to put into words.

Ignacio appeared next in the doorway because Ramoncito hung back, suddenly overcome with shyness. He hugged his grandchildren, chuckling with happiness because he also was too moved to speak. Hal remembered him for his shoulder-rides but was barely able to reconcile the ursine man of his childhood with the thin, wizened man who now stood before him.

Then Ramon’s large body hesitated in the doorway with his son.

Federica detected the anxiety in his eyes and strode up to him and threw herself into his arms as she had always done as a child. Ramon was stunned at her confident display of affection and wrapped his arms around her with gratitude. He was astonished to see in her features echoes of the young Helena he had fallen in love with on the pier in Polperro. Her hair was white and flowing, her skin translucent and her eyes that same clear blue that had disarmed him in her mother. He held her face in his hands and swallowed his regret. ‘You’re so grown up,’ he choked. ‘And you’ve done all this without me?’ he said, pulling her into his arms again.

‘Without you, no,’ she sniffed, breathing in the familiar scent of him that had

carried her through the years and prevented her from ever forgetting him. Ramon looked over Federica’s shoulders and saw the grey face of his son who stood staring at him with haunted eyes. He gently disentangled himself from his daughter and walked up to him.

‘Hal,’ he said, extending his hand. Hal tried to say ‘Papa’ but all that escaped his throat was a dry rasp. He looked into the face of his father, searching for some sign of affection but all he could see was fear and uncertainty. He swallowed hard. Ramon floundered, not knowing what to do next. He lifted his eyes to his father and remembered the advice he had given him. ‘Hal, I’m sorry,’ he muttered. The boy’s eyes softened and the corners of his mouth twitched with emotion. Ramon took the first step, held out his arms and pulled the trembling young man against him. Hal responded with a moan before his decrepit body shook with sobs. ‘I’ll make it up to you,' said Ramon. ‘I promise.’

Ramoncito watched the scenes of reunion from the doorway and felt excluded. The tears and emotion were alien to him for he hadn’t even cried at his own mother’s funeral. He watched Federica and Hal with curiosity and listened to them speaking a language that he didn’t understand. Federica didn’t look anything like Ramon but Hal was uncannily similar, except he looked thin and

ill. He wanted to go up and introduce himself but he was aware that he played no part in this family gathering because they were all mourning a parting that had happened before he was born.

Suddenly Ramon remembered Ramoncito. He pulled himself up and turned to face his son who stood anxiously in the shadows. ‘Ramoncito,’ he said. ‘Come and meet your brother and sister.’ He said it in Spanish but Hal and Federica understood and blinked at each other in bewilderment. The fifteen-year-old boy emerged into the sunlight. He was tall and athletic with raven-black hair and shiny brown eyes as soft as milk chocolate.

Federica at once recognized Ramon in the languor of his smile and in the poise of his gait, yet his skin was the colour of rich honey and his face was long and gentle, which set him apart from their father.

Hal immediately saw himself reflected in the dark features of Ramoncito and he gathered himself together and strode forward to shake him by the hand. ‘I’ve always wanted a brother,’ he said.

When Ramon translated for him, Ramoncito’s face broke into a wide smile and he replied in Spanish, ‘Me too.’

Federica took him by the hand and kissed him. He blushed to the roots of

his glossy hair. Federica smiled at him. Besides their blood, their blushing was something they both had in common.

Chapter 41

Both Hal and Federica remembered their grandparents’ large terrace, overlooking the wide sea. The scents of gardenia and eucalyptus transported them back to their childhood - but they were very different people now and the past seemed like another life. They all sat in the sunshine, the heat melting away their apprehensions, but still the atmosphere was awkward. There were so many things they wanted to say to each other and yet no one knew how to start.

Gertrude brought out a tray of
pisco sour
and handed them around, wondering why the place vibrated with such intense joy and sadness all at the same time. For once her scowl was replaced with an expression of curiosity as she eyed the two strangers with suspicion. She was more perplexed when Hal asked for a glass of water.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ said Mariana happily. ‘After all this time, what possessed you?’

Federica sipped the alcoholic drink she’d never been allowed to taste as a child and screwed up her nose. ‘This is so sour!’ she exclaimed.

‘All that lemon,’ said Mariana. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

‘After one glass you’ll be hooked,’ said Ignacio.

‘So what made you decide to come now?’ asked Ramon.

Federica sighed and glanced at Hal, who sat back in his chair and gulped down his water thirstily.

‘Things happen in your life that put everything into perspective.' she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘I had an unhappy marriage and Hal, well, Hal’s been through a tough time too. We needed to get back to our roots. We needed to see you again. It’s not natural to be separated from your family for so long.’ She lowered her eyes, not wanting to make her father feel guilty for abandoning them. Mariana glanced at her son and felt uneasy. ‘It’s wonderful to come out and discover another member of the family,’ Federica continued, filling the uncomfortable silence. They all looked at Ramoncito who blushed again and smiled bashfully.

‘Have you forgotten all your Spanish?’ Mariana asked.

‘I’m afraid we have,’ said Federica. ‘I understand bits but mostly I’ve forgotten it all.’

‘Papa, where is your wife?’ Hal asked, draining his glass.

Ramon’s face twisted with sadness. ‘She’s dead,’ he replied.

Hal stiffened and mumbled an apology. Mariana commented on the weather and then Ignacio got to his feet.

‘Son, why don’t you take Federica and Hal for a walk up the beach? You have much to talk about. Then you can come back and we can start all over again.’ Ramon looked relieved and translated for his son. Ramoncito nodded and watched his half-brother and sister stand up and walk into the house with his father.

‘For the love of God, that was tense,’ Mariana sighed once they had gone.

‘Be calm, woman, they just need to thrash it all out together,’ said Ignacio. ‘How about a game of chess, Ramoncito?’ he added to his grandson who looked up at him and smiled.

‘Beautiful girl, Abuelito!’ he said in admiration.

Ramon didn’t want to walk up the beach. ‘I want to take you somewhere else,’ he said, unlocking his car and climbing in.

‘I hear you have a beach house of your own,’ said Federica, noticing that his hair had turned completely grey at the temples and the diaphanous skin

beneath his eyes sagged from too much melancholy. He looked old.

‘Yes, I do, but I’m not taking you there either,’ he replied, driving off up the sandy track. ‘I’m taking you to meet Estella.’

‘Who’s Estella?’ asked Hal.

‘Ramoncito’s mother.’

‘Oh.’ Hal coughed away his embarrassment.

‘I want to talk to you somewhere we won’t be disturbed,’ said Ramon.

 

The cemetery rested in heavenly stillness on top of the cliff overlooking the sea. It was hot and the smells of the flowers and pine trees scented the air with the serenity of nature. Ramon parked the car and they walked across the shadows, taking care not to trample over the graves of sleeping spirits, to where Estella was buried. ‘This is Estella’s resting place,’ said Ramon, rearranging the flowers he had placed against her tombstone that morning.

‘She has a nice view,' said Hal, desperate to make up for his faux pas.

Ramon smiled at him. ‘Yes she does.’

‘Will you tell us about her, Papa?’ Federica asked ‘She must have been very beautiful because Ramoncito is tremendously handsome.’

‘She was,’ he agreed sadly. ‘But first I want to start at the beginning. I want to start with you. Federica, Hal and Helena. Let’s sit over here,’ he suggested, pointing to the grassy slope that led down to the cliffs.

They sat in the sunshine and watched the hypnotic swell of the sea below. Ramon took each child by the hand. ‘I ask you both to forgive me,’ he said. Hal and Federica didn’t know what to say and stared at him in astonishment. ‘I ran away from your mother because her love was too intense and I felt claustrophobic. We should have put you both first and tried to work out our problems, but we were both too selfish. I didn’t fight for your mother and try to persuade her to stay and she didn’t try to change for me. I loved you both but didn’t realize what I had lost until it was too late, and then I was too ashamed to face up to it so I just ran away and left you. It was easier to run - after all I had run from love my entire life.’ Both Federica and Hal were astounded by his honesty.

He then recounted the moments of their childhood that had touched him and the small details of their characters that he had remembered and taken with him through the years. ‘Hal, you used to cling to your mother. I frightened

you, I think. You were so sensitive you felt the ill feeling between us and it upset you. You were very small so I used to leave you with Helena and take Federica out with me. I never really knew you. But I’d like to start again and get to know you now,’ he said, looking into the troubled eyes of his son and recognizing the torment that lay behind them. ‘You’re my son, Hal, and nothing is more important than blood. I understand that now. It’s taken much unhappiness but I now know what is important.’

That would be good, Papa,’ mumbled Hal, whose ability to express himself had been inhibited by the heat and the alcohol that still contaminated his liver.

Ramon told them about the time he had gone to England to see them and how Helena had protected them from him. How he had seen Federica on her bicycle but driven away following Helena’s advice. ‘But don’t ever blame your mother for that. I was insensitive, popping into your lives when it suited me just to make me feel better. She was right, it wouldn’t have done you any good.

‘Estella’s death taught me the value of life,’ he continued solemnly. As much as Federica tried to remember the pretty young maid who had floated through the rooms of the beach house, filling it with the gentle scent of roses, she could not. ‘I didn’t set out to love Estella. She quenched a physical longing,

which then grew into something more urgent, something deeper. When I was with her there was nowhere else I wanted to be. I had never experienced that before. I had spent my life running away from people, yearning to be on my own, not wanting to commit to anyone. Estella was different. She made no demands. She didn’t suffocate me with neediness. All she wanted was my affection. So I wrote on the beach instead of travelling the world. I didn’t need to go anywhere, for she was my inspiration and I wrote my best work with her. Ramoncito is a living expression of our love. When she died in the road I felt as if my whole world had suddenly imploded. I was consumed with regret. I should have married her but it was more convenient for me to remain single. I should have told her more often I loved her. I should have told you both that I loved you too and made more of an effort to be a part of your lives. But now I can. By coming out here you’ve both given me a second chance. I’ll never have another with Estella.’

‘Papa, we forgive you,’ Federica whispered, taking his hand in both of hers and squeezing it. ‘We’re together now and we can get to know each other all over again, can’t we, Hal?’ Hal nodded. ‘If it hadn’t been for your poetry I would never have had the strength to leave my husband,’ she continued.

‘Really?’ said Ramon in surprise, wondering which ones she meant. Then she told him about her marriage and how the butterfly box, which contained his letters, had sustained her through unhappy times.

‘You didn’t know it, Papa, but you were ever-present. You were there when I needed you most,’ she said.

Ramon smiled at her but he was aware that Hal said very little.

They sat on the cliff top until the sun grew too intense and they had to retreat beneath the pine trees. They talked about the past, bridging the years that had widened the distance between them, until the rumblings of their stomachs distracted them from their emotions and alerted them to the rapid passing of the day. ‘Gertrude will be furious that we’re late for lunch,’ said Ramon and winked at Hal.

Gertrude was indeed more sour than usual. They had lunch out on the terrace and this time the atmosphere was one of celebration. They reminisced about the past and Federica told them about their life in England, the beauty of Cornwall and the eccentricities of the people who lived there. Hal made a valiant effort to resist the flasks of wine that circled the table, quenching his thirst with

endless glasses of water. Weary from the heat and the journey he retreated to his room to sleep a siesta.

Ramon took the opportunity to ask Federica about the state of his health. ‘He’s very unwell, I’m afraid,’ she said.

‘He looks terrible,
pobrecitol
¹
Mariana sighed sympathetically, remembering the little boy who used to love eating ice cream,
manjar bianco
and riding on the shoulders of his grandfather.

‘Mind you, he ate enough to sustain an army,’ said Ignacio.

‘He’s deeply unhappy,’ Federica admitted. ‘He’s been slowly destroying himself by drinking too much and leading a useless, decadent life. I thought coming here might take him away from his problems.’ Then she looked at her father. ‘I hoped you might be able to get through to him. After all, you helped me.’

‘I’ll try,’ he replied sincerely.

‘How did Ramon help you, Fede?’ Mariana asked curiously, longing to discover that he hadn’t completely deserted his children as she had supposed.

‘He sent me notes of poetry,’ she said and smiled at him tenderly. ‘You may think it strange that a few lines of verse can change someone’s life, but they

really did. I had been so blind to my own situation, they opened my eyes. Knowing Papa was thinking of me gave me the courage to leave Torquil. I knew I wasn’t alone.’

Ramon smiled back at her awkwardly. Federica understood it as modesty.

‘You dark horse, Ramon,’ said Mariana proudly. ‘After lunch I would like to show you the family photograph albums, Fede. There are lovely ones of you and Hal as children.’

‘And I’d like to get my camera and take photos of all of you. This is a reunion I shall never forget.’

After lunch Federica went into her bedroom. She noticed at once the scent of lavender on her sheets and the large stems of tuberose on the dresser. The shutters were closed, keeping the room cool, but she opened them and let the sunlight tumble into her room, illuminating her memories as she remembered the occasional picture on the wall and the furniture. She opened her suitcase and pulled out her camera. She sat on the bed and drew the lens out of its protective covering, remembering how Julian had taught her to hold it. Then she thought of Sam. She wanted to call him up and tell him how it was all

going. But she thought she’d take a few photographs first so that she could tell him she had used his gift.

‘Fede, can I come in?’

She turned to see her father standing in the doorway. ‘Sure,’ she replied. ‘I’m just putting together this fabulous camera so I can take some photographs to show everyone back in England.’

‘Good idea,’ he said, sitting down on the other bed. ‘About those notes of poetry,’ he began.

‘They were inspired,’ she enthused happily. ‘I’m a different person now.’

‘I didn’t send them,’ he declared.

Federica’s face drained of excitement. ‘You didn’t send them?’ she repeated in astonishment.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t want to say it in front of everyone else, I didn’t want to embarrass you.’

‘Of course you sent them,’ she replied in confusion. ‘There were two notes, one slipped under my door, the other in the car?’

‘Were they signed?’

‘No,’ she said, narrowing her eyes.

‘I haven’t been to London for years,’ he admitted.

‘Truthfully?’

Truthfully. Listen, when Hal wakes up I’m going to take him to my beach house. There’s a book I want him to read. Is that okay with you?’

‘Of course it is,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t send me those notes.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, getting up. ‘I wish I had.’

‘It doesn’t matter. The result was the same whoever gave them to me,’ she said casually as if it was of little importance.