As she turned off the main road and began to make her way up the hill, she passed the place where you could just make out Zinnia’s bungalow nestled among the trees. Her jaw stiffened. What am I doing? she thought. Was it foolish to involve Leo in her new idea? Perhaps not, because something inside her, something in the place where the remnants of hope and faith still resided, was forcing her hand. Maybe in some convoluted way the very reason she was even considering this plan was an act of defiance, conceived despite Elliot’s betrayal. In any case, she would not be cowed.
She stopped the car before she reached the top and climbed out to smell the air, enjoying the mix of cinnamon and the salty scents of the ocean. She glanced around her expectantly. Would she spot Leo at work, or maybe glimpse the child playing in the clearing? But then, seeing nobody, she continued on. While the child’s very existence had shaken her to the core, she had to remind herself he had lost his father and, as someone who had grown up motherless, she accepted how devastating that was for a youngster.
She pulled up at the top, stilled the engine and then got out to stand and admire the panoramic view. The birds were still singing and she relished the feeling of being in the midst of a plantation bursting with wildlife. When it came, his voice startled her and she spun around. He was wearing his usual threadbare shorts, and a bright blue shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes and the red of his hair.
‘Leo.’
‘Hello. I didn’t expect to see you again.’
‘I have something to tell you.’
‘Shall we walk?’
He led her along a narrow path between the cinnamon trees. Just then a drift of exotic butterflies flew past.
‘So. What did you want to say?’
She swallowed nervously before she spoke. ‘I’m afraid Elliot’s mother knows about Conor now.’
‘And?’
‘Well, she isn’t the easiest of women. She may interfere.’
He scratched his head. ‘I don’t know. If she is prepared to lend a helping hand while Zinnia is ill, that might not be so bad.’
Louisa was aghast at the idea. ‘I don’t recommend it. It would never be just lending a hand. She’d take over completely, and that would be awful.’
‘Does she know he’s here?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve given her no details other than that he exists. I wish I hadn’t said anything.’
‘I wouldn’t worry.’ He hesitated and appeared to be thinking. ‘Hopefully Zinnia will be better soon. In the meantime, I’m doing what I can for Conor. He’s lonely, so I try to have lunch with him every day and take him with me when I can.’
‘His illegitimacy might prevent Irene from becoming involved.’
He nodded, took a few steps and then twisted back to look at her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘I was wondering if you’d like a drink. Or, if you have time, maybe see more of the plantation?’
This was just what she wanted and, thinking of her new idea, she nodded. ‘Tell me about it – I’d love to know how the cinnamon is produced. Is it very labour intensive?’
‘Well, the first thing to know is that the workers are paid a share of the profit, so the more productive and profitable the team, the more they get paid. So yes, a third of my revenue goes on labour costs.’
He led her along a wide, leaf-strewn track. ‘The harvesting process is laborious. We can harvest twice a year, but it’s better if the bark is peeled during the rainy season when the sap flows freely.’
‘So you aren’t harvesting quite yet?’
‘We are, but we’re mainly coppicing and gathering the dried leaves to produce oil.’
‘Hard work.’
He smiled and she noticed how at ease he was in this environment.
‘Once the branches are cut, the outer bark is scraped off and the inner bark is cut, then peeled so that it coils up into quills. The larger sections are rolled up together then filled with small quills and broken pieces to add strength. These are then cut into pieces of three or four feet in length.’
‘And Ceylon cinnamon is particularly good?’
‘It has its own identity and is world renowned. Did you know it was first taken to the Middle East by sea in antiquity? And Nero is said to have used it at his wife’s funeral. Our cinnamon has even triggered wars. I can show you how we produce the oil if you like.’
‘Please.’
‘The peelers collect the stems for the day’s work in the morning when it’s cool and take them to the peeling sheds on carts or tractors, although we can collect the leaves at any time.’
While they had been walking, Louisa had seen he had been taking her down the hill towards a place where smoke and steam almost obliterated several straw-roofed sheds from sight. He led her around the corner where another fire had been lit in a simple boiler.
‘We produce the oil from leaves and twigs. It’s steamy work.’
She watched as a man filled a tall cylindrical vat with leaves while another worker inside it was treading the contents down.
‘Gosh, it must be hot.’
‘Yes, he’ll tread down the leaves until the column is tightly packed. Watch, he’s just about finished.’
The man climbed out and then, using mud, sealed a lid on to the vat.
‘See the pipe at the bottom?’
She nodded.
‘The steam passes through that from the boiler, extracts the oil from the leaves and then passes out again. The steam condenses to a liquid as it travels through a pipe submerged in cold water.’
‘And then?’
‘The oil is skimmed off from where the liquid is collected in tubs. Gravity takes care of the separation for us.’
‘It’s fascinating – and seeing all this brings me to my second reason for coming to see you.’
‘Shall we go back up to the house for a coffee?’
‘Thank you.’
They walked in silence with just the sound of their feet crunching the dry leaves on the path. Once they reached his house, they took the stairs to the veranda and he ordered their drinks.
‘You love this place, don’t you?’ she said.
His smile spread slowly and lit up his eyes as it widened. ‘I suppose I must do, though sometimes it has me tearing my hair out!’
‘Like all the things we love.’
‘I guess.’
She took a breath before beginning. ‘I don’t know how you are placed to export your cinnamon, but Elliot had a spice company, exporting all over the world. It’s mine now, and I think it’s time to expand … I was wondering if I could tempt you to export through us. I’d ensure my manager offered you good terms.’
‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that,’ he said, but looked genuinely interested. ‘I’ve been wondering about changing my middleman. I deal with a chap in Galle, but the quantity I’m now producing is becoming too large for him to handle.’
‘I could take you to meet Nihil, the manager in Colombo. How about the day after tomorrow?’
‘Sounds good to me. Kamu will look after Conor just this once.’
‘Yes.’
He grinned. ‘Deal. I can’t offer you a lift in the van, it’s conked out and the mechanic can’t work out what’s wrong. But … I’m not sure if this would appeal … We could go all the way on the motorbike, if you like, though it’s an old bone shaker and it will mean coming back very late.’
Why not, she thought. Wasn’t it time to spread her wings? ‘I like the idea,’ she said, then hesitated for a moment, wanting to appear calmer than she really felt about what else was on her mind. ‘How is your cousin?’
He shrugged. ‘She has been a little better lately.’
‘How shall I put this?’ she said. ‘If we are to do business together I’d prefer not to see her.’
‘She doesn’t usually come up here. I go to her.’
‘What is she living on?’
He looked a little embarrassed and pulled a face. ‘Elliot helped her
out. She might have a little of that money left.’ He glanced away and then back at her. ‘I’m sorry.’
She shook her head. ‘She sells paintings too?’
‘Elliot took them to Colombo for her.’
‘I saw some of them.’ Louisa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘When we go to Colombo I shall withdraw the money Elliot left to you. Will you see that she gets it?’
‘That’s very kind.’
‘No, it isn’t. It’s the law. And she has a child to support. Does she go to the shops in the village? For supplies, I mean.’
‘She used to, but since she’s been ill, my houseboy has been getting things for her when he gets mine.’
‘So you’ve been supporting her.’
He shrugged. ‘As best I can. It’s Conor I worry about. He’s a strange little boy but he touches my heart.’
‘Maybe he needs to go to school, as you said before? Children need other children, don’t they?’
‘Try telling Zinnia.’
When she got home, Margo was waiting for her. ‘Mum’s taking a nap and Dad has gone back to Colombo for work. We had lunch but there’s plenty left. She won’t stop talking about her grandson, I’m afraid.’
‘I was worried that might happen.’
They walked into the dining room and Ashan agreed to bring through her lunch.
‘It’s just a salade niçoise made by the French girl, Camille. So nothing to keep hot. I didn’t know how long you were going to be,’ Margo said.
‘I went to see Leo.’
Margo’s eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up.
Louisa laughed. ‘He and I are going into business together, or at least we may be.’
‘Well, I’m all for you seeing more of him.’
‘He showed me round the plantation.’
‘It’s obviously his world. But listen, the reason I came is because I have something to tell you. With everything else going on last night I didn’t get a chance to say anything, and then you were gone so early this morning …’
‘So?’
‘Right after Mum and Dad left on the bus yesterday, a man came to their house. Said he was looking for Elliot’s parents to talk to them about some of their son’s debts. He didn’t leave his name. I haven’t mentioned it to Mum or Dad but I thought you should know.’
‘These awful debts … really, it breaks my heart. Did you recognize him at all? Was it that man, De Vos, the one we saw at the jeweller’s the day we went to the Print House? Do you remember?’
‘No, it definitely wasn’t him. I think he had some sort of accent, but I’m not really sure. I was a bit taken aback. Do the police really still have no idea who broke into the house?’
‘No evidence to point them in any direction, they say. I just don’t see how the burglars knew we’d be out.’
27.
When De Vos finally turned up, apologizing for the slight delay and handing her the contract, she saw at once it was an agreement to broker a particular shipment of rubber. In his usual courteous manner, he told her it was a blue carbon copy, but he held the original in his safe and he hoped it would satisfy any uncertainty she might have about the debt.
‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do,’ she said, feeling confused as she gazed at the contract. To her knowledge, Elliot had never had any dealings in rubber. ‘Leave this with me and I’ll look it over.’
After he had gone, she gathered the dogs and walked out to the ramparts. Now they were well into May the sea was wild and the air hummed with flying insects. The wind lifted her hair, blowing it into her eyes and making them stream. On the horizon, a streak of yellow separated the ocean from the greying sky, and shrieking gulls wheeled and dived above her. She listened to the breath of the ocean as the waves swelled and faded: a sign the monsoon was not far off. Although aware that travelling to Colombo on the back of a motorcycle was hardly wise, she longed to escape from living her life in the shadow of Elliot’s death. Riding pillion on a motorbike would be perfect. Even if she might get drenched, the excitement and speed would get her blood pumping faster. She twisted the wedding ring she still wore. Was it time to take it off?
The next morning, she rose at six to wait for Leo. She opened the French windows to look out at the huge blue sky, but when Irene came down early too Louisa could see her eyes were red from crying. She felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman.
‘How are you, Irene?’ Louisa asked in a conciliatory tone. ‘Would you like some tea?’
Irene wrung her hands over and over but didn’t speak.
‘Irene?’
The words burst out fiercely. ‘To think he had a child all this time. How was it possible you never knew?’
‘You never knew either,’ Louisa said softly.
‘But you lived with him!’
‘He was away a lot. I’d become accustomed to it.’
Irene shook her head.
In the following pause, Margo came in.
‘You’re both up terribly early,’ Louisa said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’ve persuaded Mum to go back to Colombo today.’
‘If you think it’s for the best,’ Irene said, a slight sob catching in her throat. ‘I hardly know what’s right any more.’
Louisa glanced at her mother-in-law. She looked folded in on herself, as if the glue that held her together had dissolved.
‘Sit down, Irene,’ she said and pulled out a chair. Irene almost collapsed into it.
‘But Mum, if anyone comes asking you to pay off Elliot’s debts you are to inform the police straight away,’ Margo warned.
Irene frowned, then gazed at her daughter with a bemused expression. ‘Why? What debts?’
‘The thing is, Mum, I didn’t want to tell you – but it appears Elliot was in some difficulty.’
Now Irene managed to control herself. ‘I’m sure it can’t amount to much. Your father and I will happily pay off anything he owes.’
‘No, Mum. We are talking a small fortune.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You’d better tell her everything,’ Louisa said.
While Margo explained all she knew, Louisa stared at the floor and felt her heart plummet. Hearing it all laid out like this was appalling. What kind of fool would not have suspected a thing? And now, as Elliot’s uneasy spirit crept closer, she tried to listen to Margo but couldn’t block out the whisperings in her head and the image of him laughing behind her back.
By the end, Irene was bent forward in her chair with her head in her hands.
Louisa and Margo exchanged looks, but then Irene straightened up and jabbed a finger at Margo. ‘I refuse to believe a word of this! How could you both stoop so low as to blacken his name like this? You’ve always been jealous of your brother, Margo.’
‘Mum, it’s the truth. It’s been shocking for all of us.’
Irene’s face was contorted by a spasm of anguish. ‘But it’s too much. Too much.’
Her protective shell torn from her, she looked raw, and Louisa, seeing the scared woman beneath the harsh exterior, attempted to reach out to her. ‘He was a good husband to me. I had no reason to suspect anything.’
Irene gazed at her with damp eyes. ‘And this child. What of this child?’
‘He’s called Conor.’
‘Have you met him?’
‘Not really, but I have seen him.’
‘And is he like Elliot?’
‘He’s the spitting image.’
‘Well, all I can say is I’m glad to be getting the bus back to Colombo today – unless you’re willing to drive me?’ She looked up at Louisa hopefully.
‘Actually, I do have plans to go to Colombo today, but on the back of a motorbike.’
‘Isn’t that rather risky? And with my dear Elliot so recently gone.’
The dear was the thing that did it, and Louisa was unable to bite her tongue. ‘Dear Elliot, who had been having a secret affair for eight years? Do you mean that Elliot, Irene?’
&nbs
p; And the words were left spinning in the air.
A little later, Louisa climbed on to the back of the motorbike and then cautiously wrapped her arms around Leo. Holding her nerve, and excited by the close proximity and warmth of his body, she inhaled deeply. She could smell the cinnamon on his clothes and the tang of some kind of after-shave lotion. As they got going she relaxed, leaning closer, and enjoying the feeling of intimacy. How she had missed this! The connection. The heat. The nearness. And although she hardly knew Leo, she clung to him with a growing sense of release. It felt so good to be this close. So good.
The journey to Colombo was hair-raising, but she didn’t care. Despite the speed she felt she could trust him, and whenever he accelerated she experienced a sensation of being freed from normal constraints. The wind blew in her face and the thrill of it invigorated her. From time to time she glanced up at the darkening sky and across at the ominous-looking sea, but so far it remained dry. It was a bouncing, jolting journey and she constantly felt aware of her body so close to his. Eventually they arrived, a little shaken but in one piece. As she climbed down her legs felt wobbly but he reached out a hand to steady her. She grinned at him and he laughed.
‘Feeling better?’ he asked.
‘Very much so.’
He parked the bike and told her he needed to pick up some supplies, but he would meet her at the office. When he put a hand on her shoulder she felt a slight shiver at his touch. Then she watched him walk away. Today he wore twill trousers and a waxed cotton jacket over a shirt and tie. Still a casual look, but she had never seen him look so smart. Then she walked past Cargills and on down to the alley leading to the spice company office.
At the end of the alley a man stood waiting. As she drew closer, she saw his icy-blue eyes had not left her face. When his voice broke into her thoughts it was with an Australian accent.
‘Mrs Reeve?’
‘Who wants to know?’ She felt a twinge of apprehension and wished Leo hadn’t left her, especially as this man towered over her and blocked the doorway.
The Sapphire Widow Page 16
