The Sapphire Widow

by Jefferies, Dinah

  After that they came across another tea chest marked Louisa and inside, among other things, they found a one-eyed teddy bear with worn fur.

  ‘My goodness. It’s Albert the bear. He slept with me every night until I was twelve. Look at his arms. They’re all wonky.’ She smelt his fur then hugged him to her. ‘You never know, Conor might like Albert.’

  The little bear had awoken the past and she stood surrounded by mementoes of her childhood, feeling a little frayed. Albert had been her comfort after her mother died and she used to confide her deepest secrets to him. The memory was special, but reminded her that firm ground was never quite as firm as you thought it was.

  ‘What else is there?’ Margo asked.

  She sighed and stopped replaying the past.

  ‘I had jigsaw puzzles, but I never had a train set or any model cars. Let’s see if there are any other boxes.’

  Margo pulled out a small box marked Noah. ‘I wonder what’s in here?’ she said.

  ‘It may be my wooden Noah’s ark. I played with it all the time.’

  Margo undid the string and opened the box. She pulled out a figure of a zebra. ‘Gosh, this is beautiful.’ She took out more animals and finally the figures of Noah and his wife, and then the ark itself. ‘It’s so well made.’

  ‘I’d forgotten about these,’ Louisa said.

  Though it was lovely to rediscover these toys, much of her childhood had been tinged with sadness following her mother’s death; she could still feel the isolation and an awful sense of not being like other girls. It wasn’t hard to imagine how Conor must be feeling following the loss of both father and mother, and now he would feel as if he was being rejected by Leo. She ran her fingers through her hair and hoped they were making the right decision.

  Suddenly she remembered a butterfly collection a friend of her father had given her. Maybe Conor would like that?

  They found the display case of butterflies, then gathered together the toys they’d unearthed and bagged them up to carry back to Louisa’s. On the way out, Louisa spotted her father in his study and asked Margo to wait while she went in to have a word.

  ‘I thought you’d be at the cutting house?’ she said.

  He smiled at her. ‘No, I’ve paperwork here to see to.’

  ‘I’ve just been collecting some of my old toys,’ she said. ‘Conor is going to be staying with me during the week.’

  Her father looked startled and rose from his chair. ‘Goodness, that seems rather unwise. Are you sure?’

  She gazed at his kind face and sighed. ‘As sure as I can be which, to be honest, isn’t very, but I have to help Leo.’

  ‘But Elliot’s illegitimate child?’

  She frowned. ‘Conor can’t help who he is, can he?’

  ‘Won’t it be terribly hard for you?’

  ‘It might be.’

  Jonathan looked worried. ‘Think of how we’ll explain it to people. Can you imagine the outcry? Everyone will be asking about this child who has suddenly come to stay with you.’

  ‘I’ll just say he’s … well, I’m not sure actually.’

  ‘Think about it. People are already gossiping. You wouldn’t want them turning up their noses at Conor, especially if he’s going to be going to school. People can be so cruel, especially the Elspeth Markhams of this world.’

  ‘I had thought he would go to school, but you’re right, people already know Elliot had a son. I heard them talking at the ball.’

  ‘Won’t you have a rethink? If you do go ahead you’ll have to be prepared to really tough it out.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, it has to be your decision, but take note of what I’ve said. On another matter,’ he added, now with an edge to his voice, ‘I saw De Vos yesterday hanging around outside your house. He moved off when he saw me.’

  ‘I imagine he still wants the money.’

  ‘Hasn’t he come back to you yet?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Make sure you keep your doors locked back and front.’

  The day Leo brought Conor to Louisa’s the rain had stopped and the sky looked washed-out and pale. They had arrived in his now fixed van, an old Crossley army ambulance; the back of a motorbike wasn’t suitable for a young child, and he needed to bring a holdall of Conor’s clothes and other belongings.

  Louisa and Margo watched as the child climbed out of the van, hanging his head and staring at the ground, his face expressionless.

  ‘Come on, Conor,’ Leo said. ‘Say hello to Louisa.’

  The child did not speak.

  ‘And look, here’s your aunt Margo.’

  ‘Hello Aunt,’ the little boy said, glancing up at Margo shyly.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I hope we are going to become great friends.’

  He didn’t reply. At least he’d acknowledged Margo, Louisa thought. It might take a little longer before he would communicate with her. It made her feel uncomfortable but it was to be expected from a traumatized child.

  ‘Have you time for some refreshment, Leo?’

  He shook his head. ‘Sorry. I’m very behind.’

  Suddenly the child wrapped his arms around Leo and held on tightly.

  Leo bent down. ‘Now, Conor, I promise I’ll take you back to the plantation at the end of the week, but you need to go to school now here in Galle and Louisa has agreed to look after you.’

  ‘I want you and Kamu.’

  Leo stroked the child’s hair. ‘Come now. You know that won’t work. You’re a big boy and I am sure you’re going to be brave.’

  Conor let go of Leo and kicked the wheels of the van.

  As Leo sighed, Louisa thought how small and lost the child looked.

  Leo reached for Conor again and then crouched beside him. ‘I’ve explained how it must be. But it’s just for now, and you’ll have lots of new things to do here, won’t he, Louisa?’

  ‘Lots.’

  Conor burst into tears and Margo stepped forward. She leant down and took his hand. ‘Would you like to come inside with me? Louisa has toys to show you.’

  He perked up a little.

  ‘Do you like toys?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Come on then. You’ll see Leo again on the day you start school, and then again at the weekend. The time will whizz by. You’ll see.’ The two of them walked into the house, leaving Louisa and Leo outside.

  ‘Thank God Margo is here,’ Louisa said. ‘He hates me.’

  Leo shook his head. ‘He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t trust you yet.’

  ‘Maybe he’s picking up on my mixed feelings.’

  ‘If you’d rather not …’

  She bit her lip. ‘He seems so terribly sad.’

  ‘You’ll rub along together fine. It’s all very new for him. He just needs time.’

  ‘Hope you’re right.’

  He reached out a hand and held hers. ‘Thank you for everything.’

  She looked into his eyes and saw how much the situation weighed on him. ‘Any evening you have time to pop over, please do. And I have plenty of room if you want to stay.’

  ‘I’d love to, though I think for now it’s best if I don’t stay.’

  She nodded but couldn’t help feeling a little shiver of disappointment.

  He smiled. ‘I’ll see you when I take Conor to school on his first day.’

  40.

  That night, once Conor was asleep, Louisa sat up late reading a book in the downstairs living room, wishing Margo hadn’t gone to bed. She felt anxious – after all, what did she know about children – especially as Conor had lived such an unusual life and was now in the depths of grief. She resolved to do everything she could to make him feel at home but couldn’t help feeling nervous. The boy’s clear resemblance to Elliot didn’t help.

  She was just about to go upstairs to bed when she heard a light tapping on the French windows. She got up to look out and had a shock when she saw it was Leo standing outside in the garden. She hurried across and opened the win
dow.

  ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘The only thing that’s happened is that I wanted to see you. Do you mind me coming so late?’ He smiled. ‘I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake everyone, but you did invite me to pop in.’

  She couldn’t stop herself laughing. ‘I didn’t mean quite this late.’

  ‘It’s only eleven thirty.’

  ‘Come in. But let’s not alert the servants. I don’t want to set tongues wagging if I can help it.’

  ‘We could sit in the garden and watch the fireflies.’

  ‘Great idea. I’ll fetch my wrap.’

  He went to sit on a bench furthest from the house where they wouldn’t be overheard and, after she had found her cashmere wrap, she joined him.

  ‘I love this time of night,’ he said, as she made herself comfortable, near to him but not quite touching.

  She listened to all the night-time sounds. The buzzings and croakings and the night birds in the trees.

  ‘There,’ he said, spotting the tiny flashes of light.

  ‘Wonderful.’

  It felt illicit to be sitting in the garden with him while everyone else slept and she enjoyed the thrill it gave her. It was night. They were alone. She drew in her breath.

  ‘Do you read much?’ he said. ‘When you have time.’

  ‘I do, but I prefer to draw.’

  ‘Paint as well?’

  ‘No, I just mainly draw buildings. What about you?’

  ‘I don’t have time for hobbies but I like to read in the evenings.’ He paused and took hold of her hand. ‘Louisa, you must know how I feel about you.’

  There. He’d said her name again in the way she liked. Low-voiced. Warm. She didn’t speak for a few moments, just enjoyed feeling her palm tingling as he stroked it.

  Finally he said, ‘I just want you to know that I understand you’ve been going through an awful lot and I don’t want to add to that in any way.’

  ‘You don’t. You aren’t.’

  ‘Well, I’m just saying …’ he persisted.

  ‘I know. It’s all right.’

  ‘Are you sure? There’s so much I’d like to say to you …’ He turned her palm over and kissed it.

  She swallowed rapidly, longing for him to do it again. ‘Well, say it,’ she whispered.

  ‘You’ve brought something good into my life. I just wanted you to know. There’s so much I’d love to do with you, new places I’d like to go, that sort of thing, but I don’t want to move too fast.’

  ‘Spending time with you is lovely … it isn’t that that worries me.’

  He put an arm around her and she leant against him as he twisted a lock of her hair around his fingers. The garden’s night-time scents mixed with the musky trace of his aftershave, and she ached for the moment to stretch out for ever.

  ‘Conor?’ he said and she felt his breath, warm on her cheek.

  ‘A little bit. I’m worried I can’t do it.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I have confidence in you. I wouldn’t leave him with you if I didn’t, believe me.’

  They sat in silence for a while. Aware of an undercurrent of tension between them, she lifted a hand and with her fingertips caressed the side of his cheek. She wanted to be even closer, so close she could reach inside him and, when he drew her to him, she felt herself letting go.

  He bent his head and with a hand on the nape of her neck pulled her gently round to face him; she gasped. Then he kissed her very softly on the lips. Her body was on fire, more alive than she could remember. She kissed him back and felt herself dissolving. They held each other after that, his heart pounding against her chest. She wanted to ask him to stay, but with Conor in the house it didn’t feel quite right.

  ‘So,’ she finally said and pulled away a little.

  ‘I don’t want to but I’d better go,’ he said and lifted the hair from where it hid her face.

  ‘Yes.’

  After breakfast the next day, Louisa led Conor into the sitting room where she had arranged the old toys she’d found at her father’s house. The dust motes in the air shimmered in the early sunshine, so much so that the room glowed with light, and she felt as if the radiance signalled a brave new day. If she could find a way to reach Conor it would work out fine. Leo had confidence in her and that inspired her to find some confidence in herself. Leo. Whenever she thought of him her heart skipped a beat.

  Now she took a deep breath and began showing Conor the toys, but it soon became apparent that although he picked up a few things, he had no real interest in playing. She’d bought some crayons and a pad of paper and gave those to him too. He didn’t respond. Her heart went out to him as he stared listlessly at the floor. Poor little mite. It was just too overwhelming and it seemed as if nothing was going to work, but as she stood listening to the birds in the garden an idea popped into her head.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the butterflies.’

  She went upstairs and then came back down with a flat wooden box, fully expecting this would interest the child.

  At first he looked at it with a puzzled expression, hastily disguised as disinterest but, when she opened the lid, curiosity seemed to get the better of him and he leant forward. She smiled at him, happy to have hit on something he liked. But as soon as he saw the lifeless insects pinned to a velvet base he stepped back in shock.

  ‘They’re dead! The butterflies are dead!’

  She tried another smile. ‘It’s a collection. I thought you might like to see them.’

  He stared at her, the horror distorting his features. ‘I hate them.’

  Then he ran from the room and she heard him thundering up the stairs, followed by the slam of his bedroom door.

  Well, that went well, she thought.

  For the rest of the morning Louisa got on with sewing her bedspread, but felt like a failure. She wanted to go to his room, but sensing he might need to be alone, decided to wait until she heard his footsteps again. Margo came into the room and tried to cheer her up.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Louisa said.

  ‘The trouble is, neither of us has any experience of children. Is there somebody you could ask for advice?’

  ‘Maybe. There’s Gwen Hooper. She has two.’

  ‘Why not give her a call? If you trust her.’

  ‘Absolutely. She lost a child and I feel she understands so much.’

  Then, at about eleven, the phone rang. Unfortunately, it was Irene insisting Margo return home. The morning dragged on and by lunchtime Conor still hadn’t come back down, so Louisa asked Margo to fetch him.

  But lunch was a strained affair. Conor stared at his meal and barely lifted his fork.

  ‘What do you like to eat, Conor?’ Margo asked.

  ‘Hoppers,’ he said, ‘and biscuits with cinnamon.’

  ‘Well, if you tell Louisa what you’d like, she’ll make sure you get it.’

  ‘What else do you like?’ Louisa added.

  No reply.

  ‘I have to go to Colombo tomorrow,’ Margo said.

  The little boy gave her a sad look. ‘Are you coming back?’

  She smiled. ‘Very soon.’

  ‘Can I come too?’

  Margo shook her head. ‘No, you’ll stay here with Louisa.’

  He pulled a face. ‘But she’s not my auntie. Why must I? Who will look after me?’

  ‘Louisa will.’

  He carefully placed his fork on the plate and, with a stubborn look, stared at her. ‘I want you.’

  ‘I know, sweetheart, but we can’t always have what we want, now can we? You’ll be right as rain once you get used to Louisa.’

  ‘I have a lovely new school uniform for you,’ Louisa said, trying a different tactic.

  He shook his head.

  ‘The school term starts tomorrow. Shall we go to your room and try your uniform on?’

  No reply.

  Louisa exchanged glances with Margo. Was it always going
to be like this?

  But they went upstairs and with Margo’s help she managed to persuade Conor to try on his school clothes. After he’d changed back, she decided to let him play in the garden, all the while keeping an eye out that he didn’t run off through the back gate. He seemed happier playing with the dogs than doing anything else, so she let it go on. When the rain forced him inside again, she listened to it pounding on the paving outside and, although it felt as if it was beating in her head, she tried once more with the toys.

  ‘Would you like to play a game?’ she asked.

  He frowned and stuck out his bottom lip.

  ‘Maybe you haven’t heard of this one? It’s called Pirate and Traveller. What do you think? Do you like pirates?’

  ‘I don’t like games.’

  Heartened that he was at least speaking, it gave her a kernel of hope. If she could just get him talking, this might stand a chance of working.

  That evening she phoned Gwen, who told her that as she and Laurence would be in Colombo for two days, she would take the car and drive on down to Galle from there, bringing the baby.

  In the morning, Margo encouraged Conor to dress in his new uniform before she caught the early bus. Louisa then waited at the front door for Leo to arrive, as they had agreed they would both walk Conor to the school building. As she glanced up the road, she felt excited at the thought of seeing him again, although she knew she’d have to conceal her feelings for the sake of the child. But when Leo arrived he gave her a broad smile and, seeing the warmth in his eyes, she relaxed.

  ‘Conor’s in the garden,’ she said.

  He squeezed her arm and then went to find the boy.

  Although Conor held Leo’s hand as they left the house, he refused to hold Louisa’s and shuffled along, sullen and silent, hanging back all the time. Leo squatted down to give him a few words of encouragement, saying he’d make lots of new friends and would spend a wonderful weekend back at the plantation. Conor gave him a half-smile and once again Louisa’s heart went out to him. It must feel so strange for a child who had never been to school, but she believed it was for the best – at the very least it would be a distraction – and she didn’t think moping around on your own was healthy. They walked into the playground together and then went to the office, where Leo introduced Conor to the school secretary. He’d already been in contact with the head to arrange a place for the boy.