The Sanchez Tradition

by Anne Mather

  Rachel half wished Olivia wouldn’t keep saying things like that, but she meant well, and Rachel hadn’t the heart to set her down. Instead, she smiled and agreed laughingly. It was late afternoon when they returned to Juanastra, and Maria shook with delight when she saw the huge car parked in front of the villa.

  ‘Daddy’s home, Daddy’s home!’ she screamed excitedly.

  Olivia smiled apologetically at Rachel. ‘Yes, I can see that,’ she said. Then, self-consciously to Rachel: ‘How do I look?’

  Rachel studied her. ‘Marvellous,’ she replied, nodding. ‘That hair-style suits you. I must go there myself some time.’

  Olivia grimaced. ‘No, you don’t need a stylist,’ she disclaimed. ‘Yours always looks lovely, straight and thick like that. Mine has to be curled or it looks terrible.’

  Olivia’s hair was short and auburn, and she wore it in a curly mop. Rachel knew she knew that she was looking her best, but she needed reassurance. As they got out of the car, Rachel took Maria’s hand firmly and said: ‘Let Mummy say hello to Daddy first, Maria. She’s excited, too, you know.’

  Maria protested a little, but Olivia left them, running into the villa eagerly. Rachel and Maria followed more slowly much to Maria’s annoyance, but as they reached the top of the veranda steps, Rachel let her go and she ran in to join her parents. Rachel hesitated, uncertain as to whether to go straight up to her room or to join them, when suddenly a man emerged from the lounge and stood in the hall, regarding her rather impatiently.

  ‘André!’ she said faintly, clasping the lintel of the door in an effort to retain her composure. ‘Wh-what are you doing here?’

  André Sanchez gave her a considering stare. ‘I had some business in Rio so I flew back with Marcus,’ he replied coolly. ‘How are you, Rachel? You look well.’

  Rachel shook her head bewilderedly. ‘I—I’m fine,’ she said, annoyed with herself for stammering and revealing how nervous she was. ‘How—how about you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he replied indifferently.

  ‘That’s good.’ Rachel lifted her shoulders awkwardly. ‘Will you excuse me,’ and brushing past him she made her way to the stairs. But Olivia’s voice halted her. ‘Rachel—Rachel, don’t go! Come and see what Marcus has brought me—has brought all of us!’

  Rachel compressed her lips, and then ignoring André’s speculative gaze she walked into the lounge and greeted Marcus Sanchez warmly. Marcus was smaller than André, but not so lean, and his amiable face was wreathed in smiles.

  ‘My wife tells me I have you to thank that she’s not been lonely while I’ve been away,’ he said, grinning. ‘So I want you to accept this, with my thanks.’

  He handed her a parcel, and awkwardly she took it. Without André’s eyes upon her she would have been pleased and touched that he should have thought to bring her a gift like this, but now she wished he had not, and that she could have escaped to her bedroom to give herself time to get over the shock of seeing André. He was so cool, so indifferent, so obviously unaffected by her presence, while she shook like a rabbit in his. She was angry too. Angry that he should have deliberately come here, disturbing the peace that she had found, even if that peace was frail and capable of destruction.

  With a concentrated effort, she ripped off the coloured wrapping paper round the small box in her hand. Inside she found a jewel case, and inside the jewel case was a pair of diamond pendant ear-rings. They winked in the dying rays of the sun, and Rachel looked up at Marcus with tears in her eyes. It was stupid to be emotional like this, she told herself angrily, but the ear-rings were almost identical to a pair André had once given her.

  ‘I—I don’t know what to say—–’ she began, shaking her head.

  Marcus touched her shoulder lightly. ‘It’s only a gift, a bauble,’ he replied gently. ‘I’m glad you like them.’

  André strolled across the room. ‘May I see?’ he queried softly, and taking Rachel’s hand, he turned the box into the light. ‘Hmm, very pretty,’ he commented lazily. ‘You have good taste, Marcus. These should be a good investment.’

  Rachel closed the lid with a tiny snap. ‘They’re not an investment,’ she said, in a curious taut voice. ‘They’re a gift.’

  ‘You know what they say, darling, diamonds are a girl’s best friend!’ chuckled Olivia, endeavouring to lighten Rachel’s mood. She had sensed that something was wrong, and she wondered whether Marcus had been aware of the foolishness of bringing his brother here at this time. Rachel sensed Olivia’s discomfort and said, ‘Perhaps you’ll all excuse me now,’ but Maria stopped her.

  ‘Don’t you want to see what I’ve got?’ she demanded plaintively, and at once Rachel was contrite.

  ‘Of course I do, Maria,’ she said, smiling. ‘What have you got? What has Daddy brought you?’

  Maria displayed her wrist. On it was a gold charm bracelet with several discs on which were carved the emblems of saints.

  ‘Oh, that’s beautiful!’ exclaimed Rachel enthusiastically. ‘Did you say thank you?’

  ‘Yes, and I got this, too.’ Maria produced a box in which reposed a large doll, dressed in Brazilian national costume.

  ‘Oh, that’s attractive,’ said Rachel, handling the box. ‘You haven’t got a Brazilian doll.’

  ‘I know. Uncle André brought it for me.’

  ‘I see.’ Rachel swallowed hard. ‘That was kind of him.’

  Then she moved to the door. ‘I really must go and change.’

  Maria frowned. ‘You haven’t seen the necklace that Daddy brought Mummy!’ she exclaimed.

  Olivia flushed. ‘Rachel will see that later,’ she said uneasily. ‘Er—will you excuse me, too, I must go and see about your room, and dinner, André.’

  André inclined his head politely, and Olivia accompanied Rachel from the room. Outside, the door closed, she said: ‘I’m sorry about this, Rachel.’

  Rachel managed a slight smile. ‘Don’t be silly, Olivia. I don’t mind.’ She bit her lip. ‘After all, it’s not as though we haven’t met for some time, is it?’

  Olivia sighed. ‘If you say not.’

  Rachel patted Olivia’s arm. ‘Honestly, don’t worry. Just concentrate on showing your husband how pleased you are to see him home.’

  Olivia was obviously relieved and she went away to the kitchen to advise Sancha that they would have a guest for dinner, while Rachel mounted the stairs to her room slowly. Her pulses were racing, and her stomach was as nervous as a butterfly. In her room, she closed the door and on impulse locked it. It wasn’t that she was afraid that André might intrude but rather that Maria might come upon her crying and break the news downstairs.

  She sat down on her bed and opened the jewel case again, taking out the drop ear-rings and holding them against her ears. In the mirror of her dressing-table she could see they suited her very well, and with a sigh she dropped them back into their box. Then she stripped off her clothes and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Under the cool water she would think more clearly.

  But in fact, the shower served no useful purpose whatsoever, and she emerged, to lie on her bed, wrapped in a bathrobe, and stare at the ceiling miserably.

  Why had André come here? she asked herself, again and again. He must have known what a furore it would throw her into, and after their last scene together that night on Veros, she had doubted he ever wanted to see her again. And now here he was, and she was as stupidly aware of him as a schoolgirl on her first date. Somehow, now that she had his absolute rejection, she must try and behave like an adult woman. She must behave towards him exactly as she behaved towards Marcus, if that were possible. And if that easy camaraderie was impossible, then she must maintain a kind of calm indifference, and only become involved with him as she would a stranger.

  But telling herself this, in the quiet of her room was one thing. Putting such ideas into practice was quite another matter.

  When the time came to dress for dinner she realised that she had forgotten to go along to M
aria’s room to help Tottie to get her ready for bed. Since her arrival in Rio she had always supervised Maria’s evening toilette and that she had forgotten tonight proved how disturbed she was. With haste she slid off the bed and opening her wardrobe door surveyed its contents critically. Since she had been in Brazil she had bought herself several casual dresses and a couple of more elaborate gowns for evening wear, using the allowance which André had insisted on paying into an account in Rio for her. She had wanted to reject his gesture, but she realised it was impossible to exist without any money of her own. So now she drew a plain black dress from its hanger and threw it on the bed while she put on her underclothes. It did not take her long to dress and she zipped up the gown quickly and went to put the finishing touches to her hair. On impulse, she took the ear-rings from their case and fastened them in place. They swung against her hair, sometimes glinting through the heavy strands of chestnut, and were exactly what was needed with a dress that relied on simplicity for elegance. It was a long dress, and Rachel held up her skirts as she hurried along to Maria’s bedroom.

  Maria had three rooms together; a nursery-cum-dining-room, her bedroom, and her own bathroom. Rachel found Tottie in the process of trying to make Maria eat her evening meal. The little girl was dressed in pyjamas and a flowered cotton dressing-gown, and her tear-stained face bore witness to her distressed condition. When she saw Rachel, her face brightened considerably but then took on a sulky frown.

  ‘You didn’t come to give me my bath,’ she accused Rachel resentfully. ‘You always come—why didn’t you come tonight?’

  Rachel advanced into the room, and bent down beside Maria. ‘Darling, I’m sorry,’ she said cajolingly. ‘Will you forgive me? I forgot the time.’

  Maria looked doubtful. ‘Why did you forget the time?’ she asked, sniffing. ‘You’ve got a watch.’

  ‘I know,’ Rachel sighed. ‘But I’m afraid your daddy returning so excitingly like that and giving me these lovely ear-rings—see…’ she flicked back her hair so that Maria could admire them, ‘well, I suppose we all lost count of time.’

  Maria picked at the fruit and cereal in her bowl. ‘Well, all right then,’ she said slowly. ‘But will you promise to read me a story when I get into bed?’

  Rachel glanced across at the nursery clock. It was already after seven-fifteen and she knew that Olivia would be expecting her to join them for drinks before the meal at seven-thirty. Still, she thought to herself rather desperately, this would at least give her the chance to avoid an awkward situation with André.

  ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘So hurry and finish your supper.’

  Maria was obedient and quickly swallowed the rest of her meal while Tottie clicked her tongue and complained about her being spoilt. Rachel smiled at the old servant’s grumbles. She was well aware that in spite of her attitude in her eyes Maria could do no wrong.

  When Maria was tucked up in bed, Rachel settled down beside her and read several stories to her out of an enormous story book that had lots of colourful pictures which Maria loved to pore over. Eventually, when Maria showed no particular signs of tiring, Rachel rose to her feet.

  ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘It’s almost eight o’clock. Tottie, will you settle her down, please.’

  Just at that moment, Olivia came into the room. She looked slim and attractive in a jade green satin gown that complemented her auburn colouring.

  ‘So there you are, Rachel,’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you realise Sancha is going to serve dinner in a few minutes?’

  Rachel smiled ruefully. ‘I know, I’m sorry I’ve been so long, Olivia, but I forgot Maria’s bath and I promised I’d read her a story when she was in bed.’

  Olivia sighed. ‘I see. Well, Maria, this is very late for you, I hope you realise that.’

  Maria wrinkled her nose. ‘You said you would come and say goodnight, too,’ she said defensively.

  ‘I know. I’ve been waiting for Rachel to come down so that I could excuse myself,’ explained Olivia. ‘Anyway, I’ll say goodnight now, Maria, and you get yourself to sleep at once, do you hear?’

  ‘Yes, Mummy.’ Maria snuggled down, and accepted their kisses with mischievous pleasure. She was well aware of the lateness of the hour and Olivia closed her eyes in exasperation as she closed the door of Maria’s bedroom.

  ‘That little minx,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘She simply demands attention all the time. There’s absolutely no reason why you should have to supervise her bath every evening. Particularly when we have guests like tonight.’

  ‘Guests?’ Rachel repeated, frowning.

  ‘Of course, I haven’t seen you, have I, since Marcus broke the news? André came to Rio on business, to meet this man, Alister Hemming, who is involved in one of the Sanchez mining corporations. As André was expected to dine with Hemming and his wife this evening, Marcus suggested they came and ate with us.’

  ‘I see.’

  Olivia began to descend the stairs. ‘I suppose it’s as well, in a way,’ she commented softly. ‘I mean—it will save you any embarrassment at André’s presence.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed, but she braced herself, nevertheless.

  Downstairs, the two men were entertaining the Hemmings in the lounge. Lamps had been lit, and there was a friendly, intimate atmosphere of cigar smoke mingling with the aroma of alcohol. A record player issued soft music which formed a background for the buzz of conversation. André was lounging in a chair, listening intently to what Alister Hemming was saying, while he absent-mindedly swirled the liquid in his glass round and round. Marcus was leaning against the cocktail cabinet, while Mrs. Hemming was seated beside her husband, sipping some sherry.

  The two men who were seated rose as Rachel and Olivia entered, and while Marcus mixed them drinks, André introduced Rachel to the Hemmings. It was, for Rachel, an awkward moment, but as usual André carried it off effortlessly, introducing her by her Christian name and thus avoiding any necessity to explain that she was his wife.

  Lucy Hemming was a woman in her thirties, of medium height and build, with dark hair worn in a chignon. She was not one of those ultra-sophisticated wives some businessmen have, and Rachel suspected she would have preferred her husband to have a less demanding job. She seemed disinterested in her husband’s conversation with André, and much preferred Olivia’s chatter about Maria’s latest antics. It transpired that Lucy had three children, two boys and a girl, all of whom attended a convent school just outside Rio. She and Olivia had a lot in common, and Rachel felt slightly de trop. When it came to family matters, she had nothing to offer, and instead she joined Marcus by the cocktail cabinet and accepted a cigarette from him.

  ‘Well, Rachel?’ he said, smiling as he lit her cigarette. ‘You’re looking particularly beautiful this evening.’

  Rachel’s eyes flickered. ‘And that kind of talk is very good for my morale,’ she commented lightly. ‘Did you have a good trip?’

  Marcus nodded. ‘Reasonably. But New York was cold and I was glad to get back to Nassau.’

  Rachel bent her head. ‘Is that how you encountered André?’

  ‘Yes. He asked me to return via New Providence, and then he decided on the spur of the moment he would come and see Hemming himself.’

  ‘I see. His trip wasn’t planned.’

  ‘Not exactly. Originally, I was going to talk to Hemming, but I guess André decided he’d prefer to speak to him himself. Besides, André likes Rio. Surely you know that.’

  Rachel coloured slightly. ‘We came once,’ she admitted. ‘But I must admit I was surprised he came at—at this time.’

  ‘While you’re here, you mean?’ asked Marcus candidly. ‘Yes, so was I, frankly. But I suppose he thinks that the sooner you get used to seeing one another the better. After all, if you stay in the area at all you’re bound to keep running into one another.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt that,’ replied Rachel swiftly. ‘I mean—apart from the fact that I’m not likely to stay in the area—w
e would move in different social spheres, wouldn’t we?’

  Marcus frowned. ‘I don’t see why, Rachel. André makes you a decent allowance, doesn’t he? I should imagine he would be very generous in assessing his liabilities—–’

  Rachel gasped. ‘I don’t intend to remain a liability!’ she snapped, in a low voice.

  Marcus heaved a sigh. ‘Oh, Rachel, don’t take it like that! You know I didn’t mean what you’re suggesting! I just meant that André doesn’t have any intention of altering your standard of living—-’

  Suddenly Rachel became aware of someone behind her, and she swung round to find that André had joined them. His face was dark and angry, and he said in a low furious voice: ‘Do you mind not discussing personal matters in front of strangers in those lucid tones!’

  Rachel’s colour deepened, and she turned away, leaving the brothers together just as Sancha came to announce that dinner was ready.

  The long meal that followed gave Rachel a chance to recover from her annoyance, and as she was seated at the round dining table between Marcus and Alister Hemming she had no need to speak to her husband. Alister Hemming seemed to find her fascinating, and when the meal was over it was he who escorted her back to the lounge, and sat with her on a low couch near the french doors.

  Rachel enjoyed talking to him. As he was not personally involved with the Sanchez family they could discuss independent topics and as they were both interested in old books and paintings they talked quite absorbedly, so much so that Lucy Hemming disturbed them when she said, quite good-naturedly:

  ‘Dear me, Olivia, I shall be getting quite jealous of Rachel soon, if she doesn’t stop monopolising my husband.’