The Seven Sisters

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘It seems a blessing that our family got out of the American markets when we did,’ said Luiza pointedly, shooting a glance at Bel. ‘I’ve always believed the avaricious get their just deserts sooner or later.’

  Bel chanced a glance at her husband, who returned an unusually sympathetic smile at his mother’s inference.

  ‘We may no longer be rich, my dear, but at least we are stable,’ said her father-in-law neutrally in response.

  On the way up to bed that evening, Bel turned to Gustavo.

  ‘How bad is this situation in America? Do you know? I’m obviously concerned for my father. What with him being out of Rio for the past week, he may not know much of any of this.’

  ‘As I’m sure you realise, I didn’t follow the markets previously,’ Gustavo admitted as he opened the door to their bedroom. ‘But from what my father says, and based on the facts that I’m only just beginning to understand, it’s very serious indeed.’

  Bel went into the bathroom, her mind whirling with the events of the past few hours. She undressed and once again could not help but stare at the small but visible bump, still hoping she’d somehow been mistaken earlier. As she donned her nightgown, she simply had no idea what she should do. But the one thing she did know was that she couldn’t bear her husband to touch her tonight. Taking as long as she could with her ablutions, she left the bathroom, hoping and praying Gustavo would have fallen asleep. But he was lying in bed wide awake, watching her.

  ‘I’ve missed you, Izabela. Come to your husband.’

  Climbing tentatively into bed beside him, a million excuses went through her mind. But not one of them was sufficient to give to a husband who’d been without his wife for the past two months.

  She realised Gustavo was still staring at her.

  ‘Izabela, you look terrified. Do I frighten you that much?’

  ‘No, no . . . of course not.’

  ‘Querida, I understand that you are grieving and perhaps need some time before you are able to fully relax. So let me simply hold you.’

  Gustavo’s words were a complete surprise to her. And, given the realisation of her current condition earlier, the pain of watching her mother die and the news over dinner of the situation in America, his empathy was enough to bring further tears to her eyes.

  ‘Please, Izabela, don’t be frightened of me. I promise I only wish to comfort you tonight,’ he reiterated as he reached to turn out the light.

  She allowed Gustavo to pull her into his arms, and lay there on his chest, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. She felt his hand stroking her hair, and, as she thought of the tiny heartbeat inside her, her emotions see-sawed towards guilt.

  ‘While you were away, I had plenty of time to think,’ Gustavo said softly. ‘I remembered how we were when we first met, how we used to talk about art and culture and laugh together. But since we married, I feel we have been drifting apart, and I take a lot of responsibility for that. I understand I’ve been spending far too long at my club. Partly, if I’m honest, to get me out of this house. We both know the atmosphere is somewhat . . . austere.’

  Bel lay in the dark listening to what he was saying, but decided to make no comment until he had finished.

  ‘But that again is my fault. I should have been firmer with my mother when I married you. Told her point-blank that you would now be running the household and that she must retire gracefully into the background to allow you to do so. Forgive me, Izabela, I have been weak and have not stood up for you, or for myself, when it was needed.’

  ‘Gustavo, it’s hardly your fault that Luiza dislikes me.’

  ‘I doubt it’s you she dislikes,’ he replied bitterly. ‘She wouldn’t take to anyone who threatened her position in the household. She even suggested to me that, given the fact that you’d not yet managed to conceive a child since we were married, she could speak to the bishop and have our marriage annulled. On the grounds that we had obviously not shared intimate relations.’

  Bel could not help a gasp of horror at Gustavo’s words, given what currently lay secretly inside her. Gustavo took her reaction as shock at his mother’s dreadful damning of their marriage and pulled her closer to him.

  ‘Of course I was furious with her and told her that if she ever uttered such blasphemy again, it would be her who was out on the street, not my wife. After that,’ Gustavo continued, ‘I decided I must act. I have asked my father to transfer this house into my name, something I should have insisted on the moment we married, since it is the normal protocol. He has agreed, and will also pass over the running of the family finances to me once I feel equipped and knowledgeable enough to handle them. Therefore, for the next few weeks I will be with my father for much of the time, learning from him rather than wasting my days at the club. Once all that happens, I will be passing responsibility for all domestic matters over to you. And my mother will have no choice but to accept the situation.’

  ‘I see.’ Bel noted the new determination in his voice and wished that she could find comfort in it.

  ‘So, later than it should have been, we will finally be in joint control of our own household. As for my drinking, I know it has been excessive recently, Izabela, and I swear to you that for the past few weeks I have only been taking a little wine with dinner and no more. Can you forgive your husband for not acting sooner? I can understand how difficult the past few months must have been for you. But as you have just heard, I am determined to make a fresh start. I hope you can too, because I love you so very much.’

  ‘Of . . . of course I can forgive you,’ she stammered, unable to utter any other response to his heartfelt words.

  ‘And from now on, there will be no more forced’ – Gustavo searched for an appropriate phrase – ‘bedroom activity. If you tell me you do not wish to make love with me, I will accept it. Although I hope that sometimes in the future, once you have seen how I mean to continue, you will wish for it.

  There, that is all I have to say. And now, querida, after the dreadful few weeks you have had, I hope I can hold you in my arms until you fall asleep.’

  A few minutes later, Bel heard Gustavo snoring gently and moved out of his arms to roll onto her side. Her heart pounded and butterflies circled around the pit of her stomach as she contemplated her situation. Was there any chance this baby could be her husband’s? She thought back desperately to the last time they had successfully made love, and knew there was not.

  As the night hours dragged on and she tossed and turned in misery, Bel knew she must make an immediate decision. After all, Laurent might be horrified if she told him she was pregnant and that the baby was his. This had never been part of the plan for either of them, which was why Laurent had taken all the care he could to protect her from it. Bel’s mind went back to Margarida’s original words of warning: that men such as Laurent did not want or wish for any ties of a permanent nature.

  As the dawn began to glow through the cracks in the shutters, all Bel’s old insecurities about Laurent returned with a vengeance. There was only one thing she could do, and that was to see him as soon as possible.

  42

  ‘Where are you off to today, meu amor?’ Gustavo asked, smiling at his wife as he helped himself to more coffee from the silver pot on the breakfast table.

  ‘I’m going for my final fitting at Madame Duchaine’s before the new season begins,’ Bel smiled brightly. ‘I hope the garments will be ready for me to collect at the end of the week.’

  ‘Good, good,’ he said.

  ‘And if I may, I would like to miss luncheon to visit my father. I telephoned him earlier and Gabriela told me that he hadn’t even dressed and wasn’t planning on going into the office today.’ Bel’s features creased into a frown. ‘I’m obviously very concerned about his state of mind.’

  ‘Of course,’ agreed Gustavo. ‘I am going with my father to the senate building. President Washington Luís has called an emergency meeting of all the coffee barons to discuss the continuing crisis in America.’


  ‘I thought your father no longer had an interest in coffee farming?’ queried Bel.

  ‘He has very little, but as a senior member of the community here in Rio, the President has asked for him to be there.’

  ‘Surely my father should also be attending?’

  ‘Yes, he should, of course. The situation is deteriorating by the day. But please tell him that I will be happy to brief him on what is said. I will see you before dinner, querida.’ Gustavo kissed Bel gently on the cheek and rose from the table.

  Once Gustavo had left with his father for the senate and she knew Luiza was sequestered in the kitchen with the cook organising the menus for the next week, Bel hurried upstairs to find her address book. Running back downstairs to the hall, her hands shaking, she picked up the receiver and asked to be put through to the number Laurent had given her.

  ‘Please be at home,’ she whispered as she heard the line ring at the other end.

  ‘Ici Laurent Brouilly.’

  The sound of his voice made her stomach churn with nerves and anticipation. ‘It’s Izabela Aires Cabral,’ she replied, just in case Luiza decided to emerge unexpectedly from the kitchen and into the hall. ‘Is it possible for me to book an appointment for this afternoon at two o’clock?’

  There was a pause before Laurent answered. ‘Madame, I am sure I can accommodate that. Will you be coming here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I will look forward very much to seeing you again.’

  She could almost hear the wry smile in his voice as he joined in with the game. ‘Goodbye then.’

  ‘A bientôt, ma chérie,’ he whispered as Bel abruptly replaced the receiver.

  Her fingers hovered over it for a few seconds as she thought of calling Madame Duchaine to book an appointment with her as an alibi, but she knew that she could not yet chance Madame’s beady eyes falling on her newly rounded stomach and gossiping to others about it. So she called and made an appointment for two days’ time instead. Grabbing her hat and informing Luiza she was on her way to see her father and then on to her dressmaker, Bel climbed into the back of the car and asked Jorge to take her to Mansão da Princesa.

  Gabriela was at the front door before she had even climbed the steps, her face full of concern.

  ‘How is he?’ Bel asked as she walked inside the house.

  ‘Still in bed, saying he hasn’t the energy to get up. Shall I tell him you are here, senhora?’

  ‘No, I will go and see him myself.’

  Knocking on her father’s bedroom door, and receiving no response, she opened it and walked inside. The shutters were tightly closed against the bright midday sun, and she could barely make out the shape huddled under the covers.

  ‘Pai, it is me, Izabela. Are you ill?’

  There was a grunt from the bed, but nothing more.

  ‘I’m going to open the shutters so that I can take a look at you,’ she said, going over to the windows and throwing them wide. She turned and saw her father was feigning sleep, so she walked over to the bed and sat down on it.

  ‘Pai, please tell me, what is wrong with you?’

  ‘I cannot go on without her,’ Antonio moaned. ‘What is the point in anything if she is not here?’

  ‘Pai, you promised Mãe on her deathbed that you would carry on. She is probably looking down on you now from the heavens this very moment, shouting at you to get up!’

  ‘I don’t believe in the heavens, or God,’ he growled morosely. ‘What kind of deity would remove from the earth my precious Carla, who had never done a single bad thing in the whole of her life?’

  ‘Well, she did believe, and so do I,’ Bel replied staunchly. ‘We both know there is never a reason behind these things. You had twenty-two wonderful years together. Surely you must be grateful for them? And try to fulfil her wish that you carry on in memory of her?’

  Her father did not respond, so Bel tried another tack.

  ‘Pai, you must know what is happening in America at present? Maurício said last night that they think another crash might happen on Wall Street at any moment. The senate is holding an emergency meeting right now to discuss the impact on Brazil. All the major coffee producers are there. Surely you should be there too?’

  ‘No, Bel, it is too late,’ sighed Antonio. ‘I didn’t sell the stocks I had when I should have done, believing others were panicking. Yesterday, after you left, my stockbroker called to tell me that the market had fallen and many of my shares were already worth nothing. He says there is worse to come today. Izabela, most of our cash was invested in Wall Street. I have lost everything.’

  ‘Pai, surely that can’t be true? Even if you have lost your stocks, you own many farms that must be worth a lot of money? Even if coffee doesn’t sell so well now and in the future, you have the properties themselves?’

  ‘Izabela,’ Antonio sighed quietly, ‘please do not begin to try and understand business. I borrowed money from the banks to buy those farms. And they were very willing to lend it to me while coffee yields and the sale price of the beans was so high. As those prices have dropped, I’ve struggled to keep on top of the repayments. The banks wanted more security and so I had to give them this house as collateral against any default. Izabela, do you understand? Now they will take everything I own to pay off my debts. If my stocks in America have gone as well, I have nothing left, not even a roof over my head.’

  Bel listened, aghast at what her father was telling her, and berated herself for her shallow fiscal understanding. If she were more adept in these matters, perhaps there would be something she could say to give Antonio the hope he needed.

  ‘But Pai, surely it’s all the more reason why you should be at the senate today? You’re not the only one in this position and you’ve told me before that Brazil’s economy is based on coffee production. Surely the government will not allow it to simply collapse?’

  ‘Querida, there is a very simple equation here: if no one has any money to buy our beans, there is nothing that any government can do about it. And I can assure you that those in America will simply be thinking about how they can survive rather than the luxury of enjoying a cup of coffee.’ Antonio rubbed his forehead in agitation. ‘Of course, the senate are trying to look as if they are doing something about the crisis. But every one of them knows it is already too late. So, thank you for telling me of the meeting, but I will tell you now that it is a fruitless gesture.’

  ‘At the very least I will ask Maurício to tell you what was discussed,’ said Bel resolutely. ‘Besides, even if you’re right and you are left with nothing, remember that it is I who owns the fazenda. You will not be homeless, dearest Pai. And I’m sure that given the fact that you made such a generous payment to Gustavo when he married me, he would be prepared to make sure that you don’t starve.’

  ‘And what would you have me do all alone at the fazenda?’ Antonio asked her bitterly. ‘With no business to run or the company of my precious wife?’

  ‘Pai, enough! As you said yourself, many will be affected by this situation, made destitute even, so you must count yourself lucky that you won’t be. You are only forty-eight years old. Surely there is plenty of time to start again?’

  ‘Izabela, my reputation is ruined. Even if I wanted to start again, no bank in Brazil would lend me the money I would need to do so. It is all over for me.’

  Bel watched as her father closed his eyes once more. She thought back to only a few months ago, when Antonio had walked her so proudly down the aisle. Even though she’d always hated the blatant way her father had liked to show off his newly gained wealth, she wished with all her heart that she could retrieve it for him. It was only now that she realised his entire self-esteem had been built on it. Add that to the loss of his beloved wife and she could understand why he felt he had nothing left.

  ‘Pai, you have me,’ she said quietly. ‘And I need you. Please believe me when I say that I don’t care whether you have everything or nothing. I still love you and respect you as my father.’ />
  For the first time, as Antonio’s eyes flickered open, Bel saw a hint of a smile in them. ‘Yes, you’re right, I do,’ he agreed. ‘And you, princesa, are the one thing in my life that I am truly proud of.’

  ‘Then you will hear me when I tell you, just as Mãe would, that you are not yet beaten. Please Pai, rouse yourself, and together we can work out what is to be done. I will help you in any way I can. I have my own jewellery and Mãe’s, which you know she left to me. Surely if we sold it, that would raise a considerable amount for you to put into a new business?’

  ‘If there is anyone with the cash left to buy anything at the end of this financial holocaust,’ Antonio said brutally. ‘Now Izabela, I thank you for coming and I am embarrassed that you have had to see me like this. And I promise you that I will rise from my bed the moment you leave. But right now, I would simply like to be alone to think.’

  ‘You promise, Pai? I warn you, I will call Gabriela later to make sure you have done as you are promising me. And I’ll be back tomorrow to see how you are.’ Bel bent to kiss him and he smiled at her.

  ‘Thank you, princesa. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Bel spoke briefly to Gabriela and said she’d telephone her later, then climbed into the waiting car and directed Jorge to Madame Duchaine’s salon in Ipanema. Telling him as usual to return for her at six, Bel went through the rigmarole of waiting until he had pulled away, then turned from the doorstep and walked as fast as she could in the direction of Laurent’s apartment building.

  ‘Chérie!’ Laurent said as he pulled her through the door and into his arms, covering her face and neck with kisses. ‘You have no idea how much I have missed you.’

  Melting into him with relief, Bel did not protest as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. And for a few precious minutes, all the dreadful thoughts whirling around her head disappeared in the ecstasy of being one with him again.