The Butterfly Box (57 page)

Once Ramon had left the room she stared down at her camera in bewilderment. Then she felt her stomach plummet as she realized that it could only have been Sam who had sent her the notes. Suddenly it all made sense. He had voiced his concern right from the start. He had confronted her at lunch, then at Nuno’s funeral. She hadn’t listened. Of course he wasn’t going to approach her again, certainly not openly. How obvious it was and yet she had wanted to believe so badly that her father was behind them, she had managed to convince herself. How insensitive of her to give all the credit to Ramon. No wonder Sam had looked so crestfallen.

When Mariana showed her the albums of her childhood and the years that she had missed out, Federica had to force herself to concentrate because all she wanted to think about was Sam. Mariana told her a brief anecdote with each picture in the way old people do who have no concept of time. But Federica was agitated and eyed the telephone. Would it be impertinent to ask to make a call to England? While she half listened to her grandmother’s stories she weighed up the chances. When Mariana came across a photograph of Estella, Federica’s attention was momentarily diverted while she gazed into the serene face of the woman who had stolen her father’s heart. She was beautiful and gentle-looking with the same kind expression and long face as Ramoncito’s. She knew instinctively that she would have liked her. The tragedy of her death moved her and reminded her of her own mortality. She had been too young and beautiful to die. She immediately thought of Topahuay and imagined that she must have looked just like Estella. In their deaths Federica recognized the transience of life and the importance to live each moment fully because death could come at any time to steal it away.

Ignacio sat on the terrace talking to Ramoncito and finishing their game of

chess. The sun was still hot and occasionally Ignacio would take off his hat and wipe his brow with a white hanky, which he kept in his pocket. Ramoncito would then take the opportunity to let his eyes rest on the beautiful face of his sister when she didn’t know that she was being watched. He couldn’t wait to tell Pablo and Maria Rega about the sudden arrival of his father’s long-lost children. Everything about Ramon fascinated them because he was from another world and yet he had loved their Estella.

When Hal woke up from a long and deep siesta it took him a while to orientate himself. He looked about the room, at the white walls and stark wooden furniture and slowly remembered where he was. His head ached from the heat and his body suffered withdrawals from the alcohol that had nearly destroyed him. He pulled himself up and stumbled into the shower. He let the cool water wash away his exhaustion and any traces of his unhappiness that might have followed him to Chile. When he appeared on the terrace Ramon was waiting to take him to his beach house.

‘Is Federica coming?’ he asked, when Ramon suggested they go.

‘No, just you and me,’ Ramon replied. ‘I’ve got something I want you to

read.’ So Hal followed his father to his car feeling a buoyancy in his step that shamed him, for he was pitifully happy that his father had finally singled him out on his own.

This was Estella’s house,’ Ramon explained as they approached. ‘I set her up here when she had just had Ramoncito. She loved it by the sea. I love it too.’

‘It’s charming!’ Hal exclaimed, finally finding his voice. ‘It’s completely charming.’ He noticed the abundance of plumbago that crawled up the walls and fell over the roof of the veranda and he noticed the magnificence of the mountains behind. Suddenly he was touched by something that he couldn’t understand. ‘Does everything here remind you of her?’ he asked.

Ramon nodded. ‘Everything,’ he replied. ‘Not a day goes by when I don’t think about her at some time or other.’

‘I’d like to love like that,’ Hal mused wistfully.

‘You will one day, I’m sure,’ said Ramon. ‘You’re very young.’

‘I know and I have my whole life ahead of me,’ he said. ‘I’ve cocked it up so far.’

‘There’s always time to start again.’

‘I want to start again, Papa. And I want to start again here,’ he said decisively. ‘I can’t explain it but I connect with this place.’

‘It’s in your blood,’ Ramon explained.

‘Maybe that’s what it is,’ he agreed. ‘In my blood.’

 

Ramon showed him around the house, grabbed the manuscript he’d written for Helena and a bottle of water and led Hal out onto the beach. They sat down in the waning sunshine and talked, just the two of them, about life and about love. Then Ramon showed him his book. ‘I wrote this for your mother and for you and Federica,’ he said. Hal took it and flicked through it briefly. ‘It’s not very long. I’d really like you to read it. No one else has read it yet. I wrote it in English.’

‘I’d be honoured,’ Hal replied truthfully. ‘You really mean that no one’s read this yet?’

‘No.’

‘Why did you write it?’

‘Because it was cathartic, because I want Helena to understand where we went wrong.’ He hesitated then grinned at Hal. ‘Where I went wrong.’

‘You’ve really tortured yourself with this guilt stuff, haven’t you?’ he said. Ramon looked at him and laughed. ‘Do you think I’ve overdone it?’

‘I don’t think you need to flagellate yourself,’ he replied and smirked back at him.

‘You think I’m flagellating myself, do you?’ he said, pushing him playfully on the back.

‘A bit. You don’t need to feel so ashamed of yourself. Lots of people divorce and leave their children. They survive, don’t they? We have, well, just.’

Ramon looked at him with affection and threw his arm around his shoulder. ‘You know, for someone who’s so unwell you’ve got quite a mouth on you.’

‘I’m glad, I thought I’d lost it.’ He chuckled.

‘What else did you think you’d lost? Your flippers?’

‘You want to swim?’ he asked enthusiastically.

‘If you’ll join me.’

In the magic light of sunset they ran into the golden waters of the icy Pacific. Hal yelped as the cold shot through his body, jolting his senses into focus. Ramon shouted at him to be a man and dive straight in. Following his father’s example he dived and felt the water numb his limbs until he was no longer

aware of the freezing temperature of the sea. He splashed about, laughing and joking with his father as the gentle waves washed away the turmoil of the last few years. When they finally lay on the sand, drying off in the dying hours of day, Hal knew where he belonged. ‘Papa, what if I never go back?’ he said, blinking at him with shiny eyes.

To England?’

‘Yes, what if I just don’t go back?’

‘You’ll be where you belong, Hal. Besides, you will have come home,’ he said and looked at his son seriously.

‘Thank you, Papa,’ he breathed, then turned his eyes to the horizon and sighed with contentment. ‘I’m home.’

Federica asked Mariana if it would be all right for her to call England. Of course, Mariana was only too happy to lend her the telephone. ‘Make as many calls as you like,’ she said. ‘Your mother will want to know how it’s all going.’

But Federica didn’t call Helena. She called Sam. The telephone rang for a long while until someone finally picked it up. It was Ingrid. ‘Ingrid, it’s Federica,’ she announced.

‘Ah, Fede, darling, how are you?’ she asked breezily.

‘I’m in Chile,’ Federica replied with a suspended heart.

‘How lovely.’

‘Is Sam about?’ she asked.

‘No, he’s gone,’ Ingrid said vaguely.

‘Gone?’ Federica gasped. ‘Gone where?’

To stay with some old girlfriend, I think.’

‘An old girlfriend?’

‘Yes, someone he’s liked for a very long time. Dear boy, it’s about time he started thinking about his future.’

‘Yes,’ Federica mumbled, but she was barely able to disguise the anxiety in her voice.

‘He’s not getting any younger,’ Ingrid continued, adding to Federica’s distress.

‘Did he say how long he’d be gone?’

‘No, darling, you know Sam! He never lets anyone know his plans.’

‘Did he leave a number?’

‘No again, darling. Though, I think it’s a big house in Scotland if that helps.

You know who his friends are better than I. Shall I tell him to call you when he returns?’

‘No, it’s fine. Just tell him I rang,’ she said, swallowing back her disappointment.

Ingrid had just put down the telephone when Sam walked in having taken the dogs out across the cliffs. ‘Who was that, Mum?’ he asked.

‘No one you know, darling,’ she said, picking up an orphaned fox cub and stroking its damp fur. ‘Someone wanting to know if we had any puppies,’ she added, kissing the cub. ‘Sadly they’re not interested in Little Red, are they, Little Red?’ She watched Sam’s dejected face and hoped that Federica would realize how much she loved him when she was in danger of losing him. Sam took an apple from the fruit bowl. ‘Where are you off to, darling?’ she asked, attempting to hide her concern.

‘To Nuno’s study.’

‘You’ll lose yourself in there,’ she said sympathetically.

‘I hope so.’

Federica let Hal do most of the talking during supper and retired early to bed. ‘You must be so tired, Fede,’ said Mariana kindly. ‘You have a good sleep and get up whenever you feel like it. You’re home now.’ Federica went around the table kissing each member of her family with affection. Ramoncito’s face burned scarlet once she had placed her lips on his cheek and continued to smoulder like a rekindled coal for the rest of the meal. Hal and Ramon talked with animation, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames of the hurricane lamps. Ignacio caught Mariana’s eye and smiled. They understood each other perfectly. Both instinctively felt that Hal would be staying for good, but Federica was distracted, Mariana noticed - it was a woman thing.

Federica had left the shutters open so that the moonlight spilled into her room along with the nocturnal stirrings of the crickets and the sea. She lay in bed watching the shadows slowly creep across the ceiling and thought about Sam. How ironic, she mused, that when she was in England she longed for her father and now that she was in Chile she longed for Sam. She had felt uneasy ever since her conversation with Ingrid. She wondered whom Sam had gone to stay with and found herself suffering an uncomfortable twinge of jealousy deep in the core of her being. She turned over in frustration and lay on her stomach

staring out onto the swaying trees and starry sky. She recalled his unshaven face and tormented eyes and wondered whether his silent intervention in her marriage had been inspired by friendship or love. She didn’t dare analyze her own feelings for she was afraid of love.

She remembered the long evenings in front of the fire in Nuno’s study, discussing literature and poetry, the chilly barbecues on the beach and the brisk walks along the cliff tops. He had been indispensable to her. If he were to fall in love with someone else she’d lose him, and she couldn’t bear to lose him. When sleep finally conquered her, dreams persisted in the place of consciousness to torment her. She dreamed of Sam - he was running down the cliff and she was shouting his name, but he didn’t hear her and as fast as she ran she couldn’t catch up with him. She awoke in the morning as tired as she had been the night before.

The following day Hal sprung out of bed with an energy he didn’t know he had. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so positive about life. He breathed in the scents of his childhood, drawing the air in right to the bottom of his lungs. He had read his father’s book,
To Love Enough
, and discovered a powerful story that explained his own path of self-discovery as well as a

philosophy on love that would apply to anyone: brothers and sisters, friends, lovers and husband and wife. He had read it well into the early hours of the morning. But he hadn’t felt tired. His eyes had continued to scan the lines of prose until the darkness had been burned away by the tender fire of dawn. As he slept his mind had continued to work on the allegory of life and love so that when he awoke he felt his heart had been touched by something magical. Someone, somewhere had given him another chance at life. This time he resolved to live it wisely.

He almost skipped onto the terrace where the sun was dazzling and the smell of toast and coffee so enticing that he inhaled again and reflected on his own good fortune. ‘Good morning, everyone,’ he said, bending down to kiss his grandmother. ‘Where's Papa?’

‘He’ll be over shortly,’ said Mariana. ‘We thought it would be nice to have lunch in Zapallar, where you used to eat
locos
at Cesar’s, do you remember?”

‘Yes, I do,’ Hal replied, rubbing his hands together with happiness. ‘Very good idea.’ He sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘I’m ravenous,’ he exclaimed, buttering himself a croissant. Mariana derived enormous pleasure from watching him eat well. The colour had returned to his cheeks, he looked

happy and rested. ‘Abuelita, I want to learn Spanish,’ he said suddenly.

That can be organized,’ she replied, catching eyes with her husband, who put down the paper and began to take an interest in the conversation.

‘I’m not going back to England,’ he said casually. ‘I want to stay here.’

Mariana was unable to hide her delight. She smiled broadly and clasped her hands together.
‘Mi amor
, I’m so happy! You belong here,’ she said, touching his arm. ‘How lovely for Ramoncito to have a brother. What about Federica?’ she added.

Hal grinned. ‘No, she won’t stay,’ he said. ‘She’s in love with someone in England. She just doesn’t know it yet.’

It wasn’t until the fifth day, when Ramoncito and Hal were deeply engrossed in a game of chess and Ramon and Ignacio were walking along the beach, that Mariana took the opportunity to talk to Federica on her own.

‘You’ve been very distracted in the last few days, Fede,’ she said, sitting beside her on the sofa. ‘Is it this young man?’ she asked.

Federica looked surprised. ‘Which young man?’ Federica shrugged defensively.

The one Hal spoke about.’

‘How does Hal know?’ she exclaimed.

‘Perhaps he’s been more alert than you think.’ Mariana chuckled. ‘He’s thriving under the Chilean sun,’ she added, watching him on the terrace, laughing with Ramoncito as if they had known each other for ever.

‘Oh, Abuelita,’ Federica sighed in confusion. ‘I want to stay here because I so enjoy being with you and Abuelito and it’s just wonderful to see Papa again and to have finally put the past behind us. We’re friends now. That was all I ever wanted. But. ..’

‘But you’ve grown up, Fede.’

‘I’ve spent the last twenty years yearning for Papa. I’d read his letters when I was unhappy and remember all the strange tales he told me. I clung onto my childhood. I think Torquil was an attempt to find Papa in someone else. Now there’s Sam,’ she said softly and dropped her shoulders. ‘I think I love him.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘I think I’ve hurt him,’ she replied gloomily.

‘In what way?’

‘Well, I adored him as a child. He’s seven years older than me, eccentric and

clever - there’s no one like him in the world, whereas there are hundreds of Torquils. He used to be beautiful, but he’s not any more, he’s just adorable and lovely. During my marriage to Torquil he wrote me anonymous notes of poetry, which changed my life. He loved me from afar, helped me leave Torquil and supported me once I returned home. I couldn’t have done it without him. But I thought the notes were from Papa. I told him so. Then I said . . She paused and blushed.