‘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, pobrecitol1 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.
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.
The Butterfly Box Page 54
