When Summer Fades

by Shaw, Danielle

‘Exactly!’ José broke in, approaching the table. ‘Was it really necessary to buy another dress, Rosa? Your mother tells me you bought a perfectly charming navy-blue outfit for your Grandmother’s birthday when you all went shopping together?’

  ‘José!’ Elisabete, reprimanded. ‘You are here to say goodbye to Sophie, not argue with your daughter.’

  ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but I can’t stop thinking about yesterday and what might have happened if Sophie hadn’t been with us.’

  Sensing the underlying tension and anxiety, Sophie said kindly. ‘I’m sure Maria-Clara will be fine, once she’s had a chance to rest and recover from the shock.’

  Greatly reassured, Elisabete turned to the departure board. ‘Oh, dear! It looks as if your flight has been delayed for at least another hour.’

  ‘Then please don’t think you have to stay. Wouldn’t you rather go home to check on your mother?’

  ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, Sophie? However, before I go,’ Elisabete urged, hugging her warmly, ‘you must promise to visit us again very soon. Rosa, are you coming to see your Grandmother?’

  Sophie’s heart sank when Rosa shook her head. ‘No. I will stay with Carlos. He can bring me home.’

  Half an hour later, finishing her second cup of coffee, Rosa stood up. ‘I’m going to the ladies. Sophie, what about you?’

  ‘No. I’m quite comfortable, thank you.’

  Looking into his wallet Carlos drew out a handful of notes. ‘There’s a CD shop over there, Rosa. Why not see if there’s anything you can add to your collection?’

  Delighted at the prospect, Rosa disappeared from view. In desperation, Carlos reached out and pulled Sophie against him. ‘I thought we’d never get rid of her. At least, now we can have a few moments alone.’

  ‘Alone?’ she questioned miserably, surveying the hordes of waiting passengers.

  Releasing his hold on Sophie, Carlos acknowledged she was right. Rosa, finding nothing to her taste, was already on her way back. ‘Just remember I love you,’ he whispered. ‘Whatever happens, I will always love you.’

  *

  Several hours later, numbed, exhausted and emotionally drained, Sophie was swept along with the jostling crowds at Heathrow airport.

  ‘Sophie! Sophie! Over here!’ Callie called, running forward and enveloping her in a fond embrace. ‘I’ve told Patrick to wait in the car. I wanted to speak to you first. So, tell me … how was Portugal and how was Carlos? Wow! I don’t believe it. You’ve actually got a suntan! Goodness. You’re looking so gorgeous and…’

  Seeing Sophie’s eyes brim with tears Callie’s face filled with alarm. ‘Oh, dear! Me and my mouth! Big enough to be used for an aircraft hangar no doubt. Was the holiday that horrendous? Do you want to tell me about it? Shall we go and—?’

  ‘Not at the moment, Callie, if you don’t mind. What with the plane being late – and I’m so sorry you’ve had to wait – I feel absolutely shattered. Would you be terribly offended if we went straight home?’

  Waving goodbye to Callie and Patrick, Sophie surveyed the miserable surroundings of Victoria Villas. Letting herself into her flat, she fled to the comfort of the bedroom where all those months ago Carlos had once spent the night.

  ‘Oh, Carlos!’ she cried, hurriedly searching in her handbag for the bracelet, and fastening it onto her wrist, collapsed on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

  *

  Two days later, Carlos studied Maria-Clara’s determined set of mouth. Though visibly shaken from her experience with the fish bone, she had no intention of giving way to her grandson.

  ‘I don’t care what you said the other day. I want you to marry Rosa,’ she insisted, her eyes hardening.

  ‘And I’ve already told you, I don’t!’

  ‘Just think of the business, Carlos. Think of the future with the Martins-Ramirez families joining together as one.’

  Exasperated, Carlos pushed his hair away from his forehead, his navy-blue eyes glared in defiance, ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! They’re already joined together! The partnership was established years ago, when Aunt Elisabete married José!’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Maria-Clara conceded. ‘But when you and Rosa have children...’

  ‘Children! How can you talk of Rosa having children? In case you hadn’t noticed, she’s still a child herself!’

  ‘Precisely. Which is why it’s what she needs.’

  ‘What she needs? Good God! I can’t believe you’ve said that!’

  Maria-Clara ignored him. ‘Having a baby cements a relationship. It certainly worked for your grandfather and me when your Aunt Elisabeta was born.’

  ‘But not, it would seem, for my parents!’ Carlos finished, acidly.

  ‘That’s because your mother never understood your father’s needs, particularly after she had Cristovao.’

  ‘My father’s needs? What on earth is that supposed to mean?’

  Tired, and regretting her slip of the tongue, Maria-Clara pulled at her shawl.

  ‘Well? I’m waiting.’

  ‘If you must know, your mother found it difficult to accept your father’s mistress. You probably don’t remember, but she had a very difficult pregnancy with your brother. As for your father, he … Let’s just say I told your mother it wouldn’t last – I’d had a similar experience with your grandfather – but Helena refused to listen, or take heed of my advice.’

  ‘I’m not surprised!’ Carlos spat, his eyes blazing. ‘To think all these years I’ve been led to believe it was my mother who was the guilty party, when all the while—’

  ‘No one actually said that. Besides, your father adored your mother. In time, he would have seen the error of his ways and given up the other woman.’

  ‘Would he indeed? How very noble of him! And is that what you’re suggesting for me? Follow the family tradition! Marry Rosa and take Sophie as my mistress?’

  ‘Sophie? Your mistress? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Of course you bloody don’t!’ Carlos said, storming to the door, ‘Because you simply do not want to!’

  Hearing the front door slam, Maria-Clara looked up to find Augustina standing in the hallway. Her suspicions regarding Sophie and Carlos now confirmed, she shook her head sadly. ‘If you want my opinion, I don’t think you handled that at all well.’

  ‘I don’t!’ Maria-Clara retorted, scowling.

  Noisily engaging first gear, Carlos and the C70 sped away in a cloud of dust towards the city centre. Sending his secretary flying when he charged into his office, he ordered her to cancel all his afternoon appointments.

  *

  At one o’clock when Helena Martins adjusted the CLOSED sign on the door of her boutique, a tall, remote figure stepped from the shadows.

  ‘Carlos!’

  ‘Hello, Mother. I’m sorry if I startled you. I need to talk to you.’

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ Helena replied, turning the key in the lock. ‘Where do you suggest … the restaurant on the corner? Or if you’d prefer, there’s my flat.’

  ‘Your flat?’

  ‘I live above the premises,’ Helena explained, pointing upwards to an ornate, wrought iron balcony, fronting casement windows.

  When Carlos shifted uneasily, Helena’s face broke into a warm smile. ‘Seeing you standing like that reminds me of when you were a little boy. Come, something tells me what you have to say is better discussed in private.’

  Letting Helena lead the way, Carlos followed his mother into a narrow side street. ‘Of course, it’s not quite up to Martins-Ramirez standards, but at least it’s mine,’ he heard her say as she motioned him to follow up a twisting spiral staircase. ‘Though, quite how long much longer I’ll be able to manage these stairs, I don’t know. I’m not getting any younger.’

  ‘Rubbish! You’re still as beautiful as I remember.’

  ‘So you do still remember me?’

  ‘Of course, and I would have kept in touch had you informed me where you were going. When you told Father you didn’t want him
to have your address, I assumed that meant me, too.’

  Recognizing the hurt on Carlos’s face, Helena placed a comforting hand on her son’s arm. ‘I thought it was for the best,’ she said quietly. ‘Without me, your father could build a new life. I had Cristovao, and he had you. He needed you, Carlos. You were so good and so sensible. Eduardo didn’t need a bawling infant and a neurotic wife.’

  ‘You weren’t neurotic!’

  ‘Wasn’t I? At the time I thought I was. Maria-Clara often said…’

  ‘That’s one of the reasons I’m here.’

  ‘So she’s still alive then? And presumably still giving your father and José their orders.’

  ‘Not only Father and Uncle José. Me too. Grandmother is insisting I marry Rosa.’

  ‘What!’ Helena exclaimed, aghast. ‘You can’t mean she’s still pursuing that stupid idea, concocted at Rosa’s christening? That’s preposterous!’

  Carlos watched as his mother walk to the fridge and took out a bottle of vinho verde. Then, returning to the sitting room, she reached into a cabinet for two crystal glasses. Pouring out the wine, she said, ‘I don’t usually drink at lunchtimes. However, after what you’ve said, I think I need it! Look, why don’t you come into the kitchen and I’ll prepare us some lunch.’

  Putting on an apron to protect the stylish, navy-blue dress that matched her eyes, Helena studied Carlos’s haunted expression. ‘Doesn’t Maria Clara realize we’re no longer living in the Dark Ages? Tell me, what does your father say about it?’

  We haven’t had a chance to discuss it recently. Father travels a great deal, visiting clients. He prefers not to stay in the office. It’s Uncle José′ and Grandmother who…’

  ‘Ha! That figures. And what about Rosa, what does she think? If my memory serves me correctly, she always was such a scheming little minx.’

  ‘She’s not that bad, Mother. But she has been terribly spoilt. In a way, I suppose I am partly to blame.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘You know me. Anything to avoid conflict. I always hated hearing you and Father argue.’

  ‘Is this what you came to tell me?’

  ‘To be honest, I didn’t come to tell you anything. My original intention was to ask you something instead. I wanted to know why you left my father?’

  Helena hesitated, and took a deep gulp of wine. ‘I’ve forgotten. It was such a long time ago.’

  ‘Mother! I don’t need to be protected any longer. Besides, Grandmother has already told me some of the sordid details. She said it was because Father took a mistress.’

  Angrily sliding an omelette on to a plate, Helena cut it in two, poured balsamic dressing on a green salad and wrenched off her apron. ‘The bitch! How dare she!’

  ‘Is it true?’

  In between mouthfuls, Helena explained how she’d been dreadfully lonely once Carlos had been sent to boarding school. ‘I missed you terribly,’ she murmured, patting his hand. ‘And your father worked such long hours. After a while, I considered returning to work, but Eduardo wouldn’t hear of it. He suggested another baby instead. Even Maria-Clara told him I would be far happier with another child.’

  Carlos frowned, remembering his earlier conversation with his grandmother. ‘Are you saying you didn’t really want Cristovao?’

  ‘It wasn’t a question of didn’t want – because I’d long given up hope of having any more children. Not only was it difficult for me to conceive Cristovao, but also it was a very difficult pregnancy.’

  ‘I remember you spending endless weeks in bed,’ Carlos reflected.

  ‘Do you also remember your father and I having separate bedrooms?’

  ‘So Father didn’t disturb you when he was working late?’

  Helena gave a wry smile. ‘In a way. It was also what the doctor advised. In time, Eduardo found the situation increasingly difficult to cope with – hence the mistress. When I found out … he denied it. Somewhat foolishly, because both my parents were dead, I went to the only person whom I thought could help.’

  ‘Maria-Clara?’

  ‘Yes. Who not only told me to ignore it, but also suggested I behave as if nothing had happened. She assured me that after Cristovao was born everything would get back to normal. As we both know, it didn’t.’

  ‘And so you left?’

  ‘Exactly. I left, taking Cristovao, because he was too difficult a child for your father or even the wonderful Augustina to manage. Later, with Cristovao also at boarding school, I finally concentrated on a career. Despite having a successful business in Coimbra, I found myself missing Lisbon more and more, and so I returned at New Year.’

  Chapter 13

  In a happier frame of mind, Carlos returned home, comforted by the fact that he’d told his mother all about Sophie.

  ‘I think you’ve made the perfect choice,’ Helena had remarked, handing back the photo Carlos had taken with him. ‘How long have you known her?’

  ‘Grandmother would say not long enough. But from the moment I met Sophie, I felt as if I’d known her for ever.’

  ‘You probably have,’ Helena reflected, thoughtfully. ‘I felt like that when I first met your father.’

  ‘Then why did you—?’

  Helena’s eyes had misted over. ‘I told you why. Just because I left your father, it didn’t mean I stopped loving him. In a way, I suppose I’m still in love with him. I simply couldn’t bear to share him with another woman – that’s all.’

  ‘That’s all?’ Carlos muttered to himself, bewildered, taking Sophie’s photo from his jacket pocket and placing it on the table in front of him.

  *

  At Victoria Villas, Sophie passed Callie her own newly processed holiday snaps. Smiling, and flicking ahead through assorted photos of the villa, apartment and Casa Maria-Clara, Callie gasped, ‘That’s a beach house? You’re having me on! No wonder you didn’t want to come home. So… tell me, how was Carlos?’

  ‘Carlos was wonderful. In fact … he’s asked me to marry him.’

  ‘He’s what! You’re joking?’ Getting no reply, Callie dropped the photos she was holding. ‘You’re not kidding, are you, Sophie? You are serious.’

  ‘I’m certainly serious about Carlos asking me to marry him. Since I’ve been back I’m beginning to wonder if it wasn’t all a dream.’

  ‘What about Rosa? I thought she and Carlos were supposed to be engaged.’

  Explaining as best she could – without giving away too many intimate details, Sophie told Callie about her holiday.

  ‘All that in only three weeks? Blimey! Nothing like that happens to me in the course of a year!’

  ‘Of course it does, what about Patrick? You’re still very much an item, and you’ve lost even more weight.’

  ‘So you have noticed?’

  ‘I noticed the moment I saw you at Heathrow. Sorry I didn’t mention it before. I guess I had other things on my mind.’

  ‘Like Carlos, for instance?’ Callie suggested with a grin, picking up the scattered photos. ‘Then I hope you’ve got some decent pictures of him’

  ‘I have, I’m saving those until last.’

  ‘Good, ’cos don’t forget, I only saw him the once. The day he paid a flying visit to the hospital with the Van Cleef & Arpels.’

  ‘And now he’s given me this.’ Holding out her arm, Sophie extended her wrist in Callie’s direction.

  ‘What is it – a watch? Oh, no, I can see now; it’s a bracelet. How unusual! In fact it looks exactly like the landscape in one of those photos.’

  ‘Mmm. That’s why Carlos bought it for me. We went to a place just like that.’

  ‘And now it reminds you of him. How wonderfully romantic! Oh, Sophie! I’m so pleased for you. I can tell simply by looking at you this time you’ve found the right man. Is he…? I mean, did he? No. I mustn’t ask you that. It’s far too personal.’

  ‘It’s OK, Callie,’ Sophie replied, blushing. ‘I know exactly what you were going to ask. Suffice it to say the earth did move for
me at last.’

  Grinning from ear to ear, Callie took Sophie in her arms and hugged her. ‘So … tell me, Sophie Fuller. What happens next? When’s the wedding, and—?’

  ‘Hold on! We’re not even engaged yet. Carlos has only told Maria-Clara. Next on the list is Rosa.’

  ‘How do you think she’ll take it?’

  Shrugging her shoulders, Sophie gazed longingly at her favourite photo of Carlos, resting on her lap.

  ‘I honestly don’t know. While I was there, Rosa spent half the time clubbing and going to parties, and the other half draped about Carlos’s neck!’

  ‘Oh dear!’ Spying Sophie’s downcast face, Callie reached for a second pile of holiday snaps. Bypassing those of Rosa and her family, she concentrated more on the scenic views instead, expressing surprise and delight at such beautiful countryside.

  ‘As you can see, it’s not all high-rise blocks,’ Sophie said. ‘Although there is one small development under construction. Carlos suggested trying to persuade Edna and Monty to move there. I took a photo to show them.’

  ‘You don’t mean this place, do you?’

  Peering over Callie’s shoulder, Sophie shook her head. ‘Good heavens, no! I took that one just for fun. It was a villa being built nearby. I couldn’t resist taking a picture. Can you imagine what it’s going to look like when it’s finished? It’s hardly Victoria Villas – is it?’

  ‘Looks more like heaven to me. And I just I love those circular rooms with the open arches at either end.’

  ‘Apparently it’s the Moorish influence.’

  ‘If you ask me I’d say extremely moreish! Which reminds me, Mum said to say thanks for that delicious sardine pâté, marzipan cakes and her present, and I love my Portuguese cockerel.’

  Sophie turned to the window where a pink, yellow and white pottery cockerel stood guard over a photo of Monty and Edna. ‘I remembered you’d always admired mine. I also bought one for Lottie and Pearl as a thank you for keeping an eye on the flat while I was away.’

  Getting up to leave, Callie suppressed a giggle.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. It’s just me and my one-track mind Sophie. I suppose it was the association with cockerels that got me going. You know, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more. I was thinking Lottie and Pearl must have seen quite a few old cocks in their time, but never a pink, yellow and white one!’