The Sapphire Widow

by Jefferies, Dinah

  ‘So, everything going smoothly today?’ Jonathan asked. ‘I’ve just come to show Louisa the ropes.’

  ‘Of course,’ the man said, and they followed him through to the office.

  Jonathan made himself comfortable behind the desk while Louisa pulled up another chair.

  After the man had bowed and shuffled out, Jonathan laid out the cutting house records.

  ‘Elliot kept a close eye on all this, of course, but now I need to do it for myself.’

  Louisa allowed her gaze to travel around the room. Framed photographs of various stones decorated the walls, as well as a shot of Elliot with the cutters all grinning at the camera. As she felt a wave of grief pass through her, she could almost breathe in the scent of him.

  ‘Actually Dad, could we do this another time. I need some air.’

  Louisa went ahead and her father followed a few minutes later. Once out on the street she stood motionless and took deep breaths of salty sea air to try to calm herself. Then she turned to her father and reached out. He took her hand as seagulls circled above them. ‘I’m so sorry, Louisa.’

  She looked straight at him and saw the pain in his sun-creased eyes.

  Her mouth had gone dry but she knew she had to tell her father everything. She swallowed hard before she began and held his gaze. ‘The thing is, Pa, there are some things about Elliot I haven’t told you.’

  ‘Well, let’s not talk in the street. Home for a good strong coffee and, I don’t know about you, but I’m stopping off for some cake.’ Louisa agreed. She knew her father was fond of bondahalua, a sweet cake made from coconut and jaggery, though her stomach was so knotted, she didn’t feel much like eating.

  Back home she unpinned her hat. Looking in the hall mirror, she noticed how pale she was. Then, hearing a noise coming from Elliot’s office, she went towards it while Jonathan went straight for the sitting room to order their coffees. Those damn monkeys again, she thought, and felt annoyed that one of the houseboys must have left a window open.

  She unlocked the office door and gasped. Papers were strewn everywhere, a chair had been upended, and the filing-cabinet drawers had been left hanging open. All their contents now littered the floor. The cardboard boxes on the shelves had also been emptied. She glanced at the window and saw a broken pane, which meant the intruder had been able to unlock the window and climb in. Jasmine flowers blown in by the wind covered the floor and desk. She’d often said they needed to put bars at the downstairs windows at the back, and yet they’d never got around to it. Any valuables were kept securely in the safe in the wall so they hadn’t thought it a great risk. She applied the code to the safe’s dials and it opened. Everything looked the way it should. All they kept in there was some cash for the running of the household and, usually, Louisa’s better jewellery. She checked carefully. Nothing missing. So what had the intruder been looking for?

  She called her father and he shook his head when he saw what had happened.

  ‘Who could have done this?’ she said. ‘It’s been completely ransacked.’

  He shot her a look. ‘I think we’d better have a talk, don’t you?’

  They sat on the sofa together and in a halting voice Louisa told him about Elliot’s new debt to De Vos, and that Leo had said there were no shares in Cinnamon Hills. She explained that Elliot had also had an outstanding debt with the bank, which she had now repaid, but that he had emptied his account of the money she had transferred to him.

  ‘Mr De Vos tells me there is a contract showing Elliot owes him money.’

  ‘I’d get that scrutinized. You don’t want to be paying out to every Tom, Dick or Harry who purports to have a claim.’

  And finally, not without a tear, and stumbling over her words, she told him what Leo had said about Zinnia and the child.

  At the end of it, he rose to his feet and began to walk back and forth. ‘Of all the things. A child he kept hidden? I find that hard to understand, let alone forgive.’

  ‘I still don’t know if I can bear to believe Leo,’ she said, looking up at him and feeling annoyed with herself as a tear slid down her cheek.

  He glanced at her. ‘If I could get my hands on him now! He had everything with you. What more could any man want?’

  ‘Children, Pa. That’s what.’ She almost choked on her voice as she said the painful words.

  ‘My dear,’ he said.

  And when he sat back down next to her, and put an arm around her, she couldn’t stop herself sobbing into his chest, her curtain of blonde curly hair concealing her face.

  22.

  Jonathan had stayed the night and over breakfast the next day he was ready to inform the police about the break-in.

  ‘We have to let them know,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Louisa wondered if it was somehow connected to Elliot and felt an ache in her heart. She blinked rapidly to keep tears at bay. Despite her father being there, a feeling of vulnerability took hold in the way it often did at night, but now it was daytime and it was still as if she had no skin. ‘But what if it’s something to do with Elliot?’ she said in a small voice.

  He sighed. ‘I’ll ask the police to keep it a low-profile matter. But I do have to tell them.’

  ‘How did anyone know we weren’t in and the house would be quiet?’

  He shook his head. ‘My guess is we’ve been under observation.’

  ‘Do you think they were looking for money when they ransacked his study?’

  ‘That, and valuables.’

  ‘What do you think Elliot did with the money?’

  He shrugged. ‘Probably used it to support this woman and her child.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘By the way, sorry to raise this now, but I’ve been meaning to say, you’ll need to do something about his spice business in Colombo. I can take it over or sell it if it’s too much for you.’

  ‘No, I’ll take a trip to Colombo to the bank and go to his office while I’m at it. I think I’d like to oversee it.’

  The phone rang and they heard footsteps and then Margo’s voice. A few minutes later she came into the room. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I’m wanted at home. I knew it would happen sooner or later and it’s best if I go. I only hope I can be of some use to Mum this time. Anyway, it’s that darned bus for me again.’

  ‘I shall have to go to Colombo myself quite soon,’ Louisa said. ‘I could drive you. Though I don’t think I’m up to it today.’

  Margo narrowed her eyes. ‘You do look pale. I wish I could stay.’

  ‘No. Your mother needs you. It’s only right you go. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘I can’t see how.’

  ‘I’m going to keep busy,’ she said, though secretly Louisa agreed with her sister-in-law.

  A little later Louisa had taken a sketch pad and pencils to the Print House. The eighteenth-century mansion was typical of the colonial architecture of Galle. But she still needed to record what the front elevation looked like and then trace in how she wanted to change it. In truth, she didn’t feel like drawing; what she really wanted was to curl up and forget everything with a large gin. But she withdrew a 2B pencil from the case and began sketching the huge arched windows with their wooden shutters, in front of which was a veranda. Then she drew the large windows of the gallery floor and, finally, the beautiful old red-tiled roof. While she worked all she could think of was the humiliation and embarrassment of telling her father about Zinnia and the boy. And now, even while she tried to focus on her drawing, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  What was she to do?

  She couldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering if it was true. Wondering if all the time Elliot had been in love with somebody else; somebody who had been able to give him a child while she herself had not. Although the very thought of it made her feel ill, perhaps her only option really was to speak to Leo again.

  She went through the building and then, by way of the wide back doors, out into a courtyard garden. It struck her as a perfect p
lace to serve tea and coffee. She sat down in one corner and drew the columns supporting an upstairs balcony, where she pictured the railings festooned with tumbling flowers. She hadn’t given much thought to the outside space until now, but it was an idyllic place to sit and think, surrounded as it was by tall coconut palms, and, though the courtyard itself was overrun with bougainvillea and unchecked weeds, it wouldn’t take long to fix.

  Once she was done, she packed up her drawing equipment and walked back home. There she sat in the garden, gazing at her flowering shrubs and nursing a ginger tea. A green male garden lizard, with white stripes on its body and a crimson-crested head, stared at her from where it perched on a log. It made her smile, but when Zinnia and the child continued to prey on her mind she decided she simply had no choice: she would have to return to Cinnamon Hills.

  Two days later, once Margo had left for home by bus after all, Louisa gathered her courage. Now it was May, the weather had become a little wetter. It was still warm, at least in the low eighties, and it would remain that way throughout the summer, when the monsoon would bring heavy rains from June until September. Louisa didn’t mind the rains and looked forward to the relief they could offer, when Galle’s streets would be running with water and the sea would be wild. But, for now, a light drizzle meant humidity was high, and she wiped her hand across her brow as she climbed into the car. It would be a sticky journey today, though she didn’t know if she was sweating because of the weather, or because of what she was preparing to do. She’d dressed carefully in lightweight trousers with a simple cotton blouse, and had tied her hair in a knot at the nape of her neck. It was too hot to wear it down. At the last minute, she threaded through her favourite sapphire earrings. They had once belonged to her mother and something about them always made her feel better.

  23.

  Louisa soon arrived at the same beach where she had swum with Margo. She and Elliot had liked to collect large shells together but she hadn’t searched for any since he died. Shoeless, she walked slowly along the fringes of the ocean, feeling the sun-baked sand between her toes, while staring at the silvery blue water and thinking all the time.

  She picked up a few pretty shells and then made her way back to the car, where she sat to dust the sand from her feet before starting up the engine. After that she made a left turn off the main road and began the now familiar climb up Cinnamon Hills – but with her heart racing, she had no idea how she would approach Leo. All she knew was she had to hear the truth.

  She soon reached the house at the top with the gorgeous views. She knocked, but when the houseboy answered the door, he told her the master had taken a doctor to see his cousin and would return in a little while. Louisa deliberated: was this an opportunity to turn around and go straight back home? She took a few steps towards her parked car but then paused. If she didn’t do this, there would always be doubt. Never-ending doubt. She had to see Leo.

  She went a little way into the plantation, but walked straight into a giant wood-spider’s web strung across the track between the cinnamon bushes. She brushed its sticky strands from her hair and, nervous of losing her way, returned to the house, where she sat on a small bench in the shade of the upstairs veranda. Then, listening to the squeaks and chatter from the forest canopy, she waited in the sweltering heat. Relieved when the houseboy brought her out a lemonade, she drank it quickly and flicked away the flies buzzing around the rim of her glass.

  After about half an hour she spotted Leo walking up the track. He paused when he saw her and then came straight up to the bench. Their previous meeting hung between them and for a moment neither spoke.

  Eventually he tilted his head. ‘Louisa?’

  ‘Leo.’

  She gazed at him. He wore frayed shorts and a turquoise short-sleeved shirt against which his deep tan shone, although there were also red scratches on his arms. Wanting him to say something first, she waited, but when he did not, she knew it had to be her. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘We’ll go indoors. I was bitten to death earlier on, cutting back the undergrowth.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Hell of a job. That’s how I got these scratches.’

  She got to her feet.

  ‘After you,’ he said, and held open the door.

  They went inside and then up the stairs. She stood still, glancing around her and feeling nervous. So far, they were being very polite and careful with each other and the atmosphere felt uneasy.

  ‘I’ll get Kamu to bring us a beer.’ He called the boy out and then turned back to her almost as an afterthought. ‘Sorry. Will beer do you?’

  She nodded, and thought again about the wisdom of coming here. Then, waiting for her beer, she breathed in the scent of cinnamon that hung around Leo. He sat too, and puffed out his cheeks. ‘Kamu told you where I was?’

  She swallowed the lump that had developed in her throat. ‘He said you’d taken a doctor to see your cousin.’

  He nodded. ‘She refused to even see him.’

  The boy brought out their beers.

  Finally, she found the courage to speak. ‘I wanted to ask you …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘… if everything you told me was true.’

  He grimaced. ‘I’m afraid it is. I’m so sorry.’

  She stared at him while he looked away and gazed across the treetops.

  There was another long uncomfortable silence. She didn’t want to know or even to ask, and yet she sensed she had to.

  ‘How old is the child again?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  He glanced up at her and then away again. ‘About the place somewhere.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  He shook his head. ‘She won’t let him go to school because of the stigma of being illegitimate. People around here know there’s no husband.’

  ‘A boarding school?’

  ‘Too expensive.’

  ‘Nanny?’

  ‘He needs education at this stage, not a nursemaid.’

  ‘Oh. I see.’

  ‘Zinnia teaches him, but she’s not well enough now and if she won’t accept medical attention … well.’ He spread his hands out wide.

  She looked down at the terracotta-tiled floor and then up at him and felt sick. ‘Did you see Elliot when he used to come?’

  His eyes narrowed, as if he found the whole conversation difficult. ‘Kept themselves to themselves,’ he said, now gazing at her with such a look of compassion that she took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

  ‘And Conor knew Elliot was his father?’

  Leo nodded.

  ‘You might not know, Elliot and I had a stillborn baby. A little girl. I called her Julia.’

  His eyes softened even further as he looked at her, but then she turned away as the memories assailed her.

  ‘I didn’t know, no,’ he gently said.

  She didn’t know the sex of her two miscarried babies but thought of them both as boys, with Julia sandwiched between; one older than his sister and one younger. The daughter who had not even breathed was dark-haired, like Elliot.

  ‘She’d be getting on for three, had she lived,’ she said.

  She didn’t say that her hair would be curly; she’d have Elliot’s lively green eyes too. And she’d always be demanding they push her higher and higher on the garden swing. Higher, Mummy. Higher! Shrieking and shrieking with unbridled excitement. The boys were harder to picture, but she thought they might have her own fairer colouring. She allowed the images to fade and turned back to look at Leo.

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ he said.

  ‘I had two miscarriages as well, so you can see that finding out about this child is particularly distressing.’

  ‘It really isn’t something I would have lied about.’

  She shook her head. ‘I think I knew all along. I just didn’t want to believe it.’

  ‘Forgive me. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you.’

  She shook her head again
. She couldn’t tell him that she felt as if her heart had been ripped out and it was taking every shred of her strength not to fold. ‘I can’t believe how Elliot was able to keep this secret for so long.’

  It went quiet between them and the silence persisted. In the end it was Leo who spoke.

  ‘I’m worried about Conor. Zinnia is ill and can’t look after him. Neither can I. At least not well enough. Because of the drought up north, my cinnamon is now in huge demand. I just have to keep going.’

  ‘Have you thought about having him fostered or looked after in a children’s home? Temporarily, I mean, while Zinnia is ill.’

  ‘Dear God, no. I couldn’t do that – do you know what those places are like? And Zinnia obviously wouldn’t countenance it!’

  ‘No, of course. It was a stupid idea.’

  ‘If I had the funds I’d send him to boarding school in Colombo, but I don’t. As it is, I need to find a way of distributing my cinnamon more widely to properly shore up the business.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking …’ She hesitated for a moment and inhaled sharply. ‘Would it be possible to see your cousin?’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m not sure of anything at the moment. What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘I think she’s suffering with her nerves. I doubt she’ll see you. Half the time she won’t let me in, though I try to sort her place out when I do get in. She’s living in a bit of a mess.’

  ‘Do you mean since Elliot died?’

  He nodded.

  She sucked in her breath. ‘She loved him?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Can we go there?’

  He frowned as he scrutinized her face. She took another deep breath but didn’t speak.

  ‘Won’t it distress you? There are portraits she painted in her house.’

  ‘Of Elliot?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She gazed at him with an increasing sense of determination. ‘I think I need to see for myself.’

  ‘Very well.’

  He led her out of his house and then down the track, past undergrowth where a laughing thrush was singing. About halfway down the hill, there was a little turning towards a small building, an old bungalow, almost hidden among the trees. They passed a row of heavily overgrown scented plants in pots, then he went ahead of her and opened the front door. He twisted round to her and whispered, ‘We can still turn back.’