‘I want to see it too,' said Ignacio, pulling the child onto his lap.
Federica placed the box on the table. ‘This once belonged to an Inca princess,’ she said gravely. She then paused for effect before slowly lifting the lid. To her delight her grandfather caught his breath and dragged the box closer to get a better look. He pushed his glasses up his nose and peered inside.
‘Por Dios, Ramon, where did you find this treasure? It must be worth a fortune?’
‘I was given it in Peru,’ he replied. Federica shivered with pride.
‘In Peru, eh?’ he mused. Then he ran his fingers over the stones.
‘It’s a magic box, Abuelito,’ said Federica.
‘I can see that,’ said Ignacio. ‘Here, woman, have a look at this. It’s extraordinary.’ He pushed it across the table to Mariana. Helena felt guilty that she
hadn’t paid it more attention.
‘My dear, it’s beautiful,’ she said admiringly.
‘If you move the box about the wings move. Look!’ said Federica, pulling the box back and holding it up, tilting it from side to side. They all stared into it in amazement.
‘My dear, you are absolutely right,’ said Mariana, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Papa, can I tell them the story?’ Ramon nodded and Federica, her large blue eyes shining excitedly, began to tell them the legend of the butterfly box. They all listened quietly as Federica recounted what her father had told her.
Without being seen Estella stood behind the French doors watching Ramon’s raffish face smiling at his daughter with great tenderness. He was more handsome than he was in photographs and had a charisma that filled the house and overwhelmed her. She stood in the shadows, as still as a marble statue, and left her eyes to gaze upon him while her mind drifted into the realm of fantasy.
After dinner, when the children had gone to bed, Ignacio and Ramon took their
drinks onto the beach and walked in the foam of the surf as Ignacio had done the night before with his wife. The sky was bright and tremulous, the sea lit up by the phosphorescent moon that hung weightless above them. At first they talked about trivialities, about Ramon’s latest book and his latest adventures. Finally his father drained his glass and stood in front of Ramon.
‘What’s going on, son?’ he asked bluntly.
Ramon fell silent for a moment. He didn’t really know. ‘She’s leaving me, Papa,’ he said.
Ignacio stopped walking. ‘She’s leaving you?’ he repeated incredulously.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘She doesn’t love me any more.’
‘What a load of rubbish!’ he growled. ‘She’s crying out for attention, any fool can see that. What else?’ he demanded.
Ramon shuffled in the sand, making piles with his toes. ‘I’m not there for her.’
‘I see.’
‘She wants me to change.’
‘Why can’t you?’
‘I can’t.’
‘You’re too selfish,’ said his father grimly.
‘Yes. I’m too selfish.’
‘What about the children?’ Ramon shrugged his shoulders. ‘You love them, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do, but—’
‘But! There are no “buts” when it comes to children, son. They need you.’
‘I know. But I can’t be what they want.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I just can’t be a family man, Papa. I’m not cut out for it. The minute I come home I want to leave again. I get this claustrophobic feeling in the pit of my stomach. I need to be on the move. I need to be free. I can’t be tied down.’ He choked.
‘Grow up, Ramon, for God’s sake,’ he said impatiently. Ramon stiffened. He felt like a little boy again being chastised by his father. They stood in silence, staring at each other through the twilight. Finally, they began to walk back up the beach towards the house, each alone with his thoughts. There was nothing more to say. Ramon couldn’t begin to explain the claustrophobia he felt and Ignacio knew his advice was unwelcome.
Helena was relieved when Ramon suggested he sleep in the next-door room. She smiled at him gratefully. He didn’t tell her about the conversation he had had with his father. She wasn’t his ally any more. They were strangers. Polite, distant, mistrustful.
Ramon slipped into bed. He could smell lavender and tuberose and thought of Estella. He thought of her hands making the bed and placing the flowers in the vase. There was no point suppressing his desires as he would have done in the old days, before adultery had become a way of life. In those early days he had desired no one but his wife. She had loved him like he believed no one else could love him. He’d close his eyes and still be with her; later he’d close his eyes to be with someone else, anyone else. Now he closed his eyes and thought of Estella. Her timid expression, fearful yet brazen somehow. Her trembling lips that begged to be kissed and her glowing skin that failed to cover the longing that lit her up inside like a fire. He wondered where her bedroom was and whether she’d be surprised to find him standing in her doorway. He
almost climbed out of bed to find her, but he cautioned himself against such recklessness. It was all very well when he was on his travels, alone with his secrets. But here in his parents’ house was incorrect. He sighed and rolled over onto his back. The breeze was cool, slipping in through the gaps in the shutters, but he still felt hot and restless, his loins wracked with desire.
Then he did something completely crazy. He got up and walked down to the beach. In the silvery light he slipped out of his towel and walked naked into the sea. The cold water stunned his senses and he gasped for breath. He swam out until his feet no longer felt the bottom and his body was so cold it no longer felt desire. There he lay on his back, steadying himself with his outstretched arms, paddling gently with his hands. He gazed up into the inky sky and wondered what lay beyond the stars. He drifted on the current until he felt the humiliation of his father’s unkind words no more. In the silence of his watery bed he no longer cared about anything. His mind was numb and his heart cold and unfeeling. When he finally pulled himself up he saw that he had drifted much further out than he had meant to. Frantically he swam back to shore, his mind clattering with the many stories he had heard as a child of men being swept out to sea and drowned. When he was able to stand his heart quietened
and he waded back towards the beach, grateful to be alive.
Estella stood on the terrace anxiously watching the beach for Don Ramon who had disappeared into the sea. She had been unable to sleep knowing that he was sleeping under the same roof. Her body trembled with a yearning she could scarcely control. So she had walked out onto the terrace to breathe the air and clear her head. It was then that she had seen him wander up the sand, drop his towel and wade naked into the sea. She had had to hold onto the balcony to stop herself from following and declaring her feelings to him. But then minutes had passed and he hadn’t returned. She knew of people who had drowned in these cold waters and her stomach had churned with the thought that he might join them.
To her intense relief she spotted his dark figure wading out of the water. He was alive. He was safe. She could breathe again. Hidden by the darkness she watched him pick up his towel and roughly dry himself. Then he began to make his way back towards the house with the towel casually draped around his neck. She stepped back against the wall as he neared her. She couldn’t help but watch as he strode towards her, ignorant of her curious eyes that feverishly consumed his naked body. Once he had disappeared she collapsed onto the
wooden floor and put her head in her hands. She was going mad. What would he think?
When Ramon once more slipped between the sheets he felt cool and less disturbed. He closed his eyes and listened as his heartbeat slowed down and his breathing became heavy with sleep.
Estella retreated to her room as agitated as before, where she lay on her bed, tormented with frenzied thoughts of him.
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Chapter 6
The following morning Ramon awoke to the sounds of the children playing outside. He lay staring at the shutters, at the lucid shafts of light that streamed in through the gaps in the wood, searching him out. He thought of Estella and the thought of her made him climb out of bed with enthusiasm. He opened the shutters. He could hear Federica’s excited voice on the terrace and the calm, indulgent tones of his mother. He pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt and walked barefooted into the sunny corridor. Noticing that the rest of the family were outside he stole into the kitchen hoping to find Estella. He was disappointed. The kitchen was still and gloomy. She had been there for the bread was out on the table and the vegetables in neat piles on the sideboard. He could smell the fragrance of roses mixed with something that belonged only to her. Like an animal he sniffed the air. He waited but she did not appear. Frustrated, he walked into the sitting room, following her scent that got increasingly stronger until he knew she was somewhere close. His heartbeat quickened with the excitement of the chase.
‘Buenos dias, Don Ramon,’ came a voice from behind him. He turned to find
her crouched down changing the record. He noticed her exposed thigh and the neat curve of her ankle. He wanted to reach out and touch her.
‘Buenos dias, Estella,’ he replied and he saw that her cheeks stung crimson at the mention of her name. He smiled down at her until the pressure of his gaze caused her to turn away. With a shaking hand she placed the needle on the rotating disc of the gramophone. Cat Stevens resounded through the room. ‘Do you dance, Estella?’ he asked. She stood up and looked embarrassed.
‘No, Señor,' she replied, blinking at him nervously from under her long lashes.
‘I love to dance,’ he said, swaying to the music and the lightness in his heart that compelled him to move. Estella smiled. When she smiled her whole face came alive, he thought. Her teeth were gleaming and white against the milk chocolate colour of her skin. Her silky black hair was pulled off her face into a thick plait that fell down her back. With an unsteady hand she curled a piece that had come astray behind her small ear. He watched her every move and she felt his eyes upon her and blushed. ‘Do you like it here?’ he asked, attempting to engage her in conversation.
‘Sí, Don Ramon.’ ‘My mother tells me you do a very good job.’
‘Thank you,’ she said and smiled again.
He was suddenly disarmed by the charm of her radiant face. ‘You look beautiful when you smile,’ he said impulsively. She recognized the longing in his voice and shuddered because she knew she was unable to hide the longing in hers.
‘Gracias, Don Ramon,’ she said hoarsely, lowering her fevered eyes that burnt when she blinked.
‘Did you put the lavender in my room, and the flowers?’
‘Sí, Señor,’ she replied breathlessly, suffocated by his proximity. He was so close she could smell him.
‘They’re lovely. Thank you.’ He watched her hover, not knowing whether to leave or stay, knowing she should scuttle back to the kitchen but unable to tear herself away. She licked her dry lips with her tongue. He stepped closer. She caught her breath and with startled eyes watched him watching her.
‘You find me attractive, don’t you?’ he said softly, smelling the sweat that seeped through the pale cotton of her uniform.
‘I do find you attractive, Don Ramon,’ she whispered and swallowed hard.
‘I want to kiss you, Estella. I want to kiss you very much.' he said, inching closer towards her. The chatter from the terrace faded with the roar of the sea. It was only him and Estella and the doleful melody of Cat Stevens that sang out ‘Oh baby baby it’s a wild world’ on the gravelly record behind them.
‘Papa, shall we go down to the beach soon?’ said Federica, skipping into the sitting room, pleased to find her father up and dressed. Ramon stiffened. Estella’s shoulders tensed and she turned with the grace of a panther and slipped back to the cool sanctuary of the kitchen where she leant against the table and fanned herself with her cookbook. Her heart jumped about like a frightened bird and her legs shook as if she were walking on them for the first time. She felt the sweat trickle down her back and between her breasts. She was excited that he desired her too, yet afraid because she knew she shouldn’t sleep with a married man whose wife and children were in the same house. She knew she could lose her job. She also knew that he just lusted after her, wanted nothing more than to make love to her then cast her aside and return to his marital bed. But she didn’t care. One night, she prayed, God give me one night and I’ll never misbehave again. She couldn’t help herself. She was powerless to resist.
She bent over the table and began to chop up the vegetables to calm her agitated nerves.
Ramon followed his daughter reluctantly out onto the terrace and sat down at the table, glad to be able to hide the excitement that strained against his shorts. He poured himself some coffee and buttered a piece of toast. Helena was sitting at the other end of the terrace with his mother and Hal. She looked happier and more relaxed but Ramon didn’t notice, all he saw was Estella and all he could think about was how he was going to engineer it so that he could make love to her.
Federica sat on the chair next to his with her legs swinging in the air impatiently. She placed the box on the table in front of her and opened and closed it, turned it around and tilted it but Ramon was too distracted to give her the attention she wanted.
‘Good morning, son,’ said Ignacio, emerging with his panama hat placed firmly on his head, in a pair of loose ivory trousers and a short-sleeved, sky-blue shirt. ‘I thought we could go and have lunch in Zapallar today then drive on to Papudo. I know someone around here who wants to ride on the ponies,’ he said and chuckled as Federica leapt down from her chair and ran up to him.
‘Yes please!’ she cried, throwing her arms around his waist. Ignacio patted her white hair and took off his hat to fan himself. It was hot and the air was sticky with the scent of the eucalyptus trees.
‘That’s a lovely idea, Nacho,’ said Mariana. ‘The children would love that. You’d like an ice cream, wouldn’t you, Hal?’ she said to Hal who was playing with the box of toys Mariana always kept in the house for her grandchildren. Hal nodded before once again busying himself with his game.
‘I’m going to take Fede down to the beach,’ said Ramon, who had no intention of going to Zapallar for lunch. He was going to spend the afternoon making love to Estella.
‘I’ll come with you, Ramon,’ said Mariana. ‘I could do with a walk. Will you be all right here, Helena?’ she asked.
Helena smiled and nodded. ‘I’ll be fine with Hal, thank you,’ she replied. She hoped Ramon would tell his parents of their plans, because she didn’t think she had the courage to tell them herself. She watched them disappear back into the house. She had slept well and woken in a good humour. Mariana and Ignacio’s house was serene and cool, away from the tension that seemed to cling to the walls back in Viña. Here she felt liberated. They had separate rooms and she had her own space. Ramon was diluted with his parents. He didn’t seem so big and oppressive with them as he did when he was alone with her. She lay back in her chair and thought of Polperro.
Ramon and Mariana wandered down the beach while Federica skipped and jumped, playing tag with the waves that rushed up onto the beach. It was too early for people to start filling up the sand with their towels and their oiled bodies, so they had the beach to themselves.
‘I’m so pleased you’ve come back, Ramon,’ said Mariana happily. She had taken off her sandals to reveal her painted red toenails that ate into the sand as she walked. ‘We do miss you when you’re away. I know you and understand you,’ she said sadly, ‘so I’m not complaining. You do give us such pleasure.’
‘Mama,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘You give me pleasure too. I don’t know why I can’t stick around for long, something inside me just tells me to keep moving.’
‘I know. It’s your creativity, mi amor,’ she said as if that
excused everything.
‘I wish I were married to someone like you,’ he sighed.
‘Helena understands you more than you think. It’s good for you both to get away together. She looked very strained yesterday, but the colour has come
back to her cheeks today. She seems much happier.’
‘Does she?’ he asked. He had barely noticed her.
‘Yes, she does. You know she needs a bit of time to get to know you again each time you come back. You have to be patient and not expect too much.’
‘Yes,’ he said. He was glad his father hadn’t shared their conversation with her. He knew he should tell her the truth himself. That Helena was leaving him, leaving Chile, leaving to start again on a distant shore. But he knew it would break his mother’s heart to tell her that she wouldn’t watch her grandchildren grow up and he couldn’t bear to upset her. She was so happy to see them, now wasn’t the moment. So he just smiled down at her.
‘Mama, do you mind if I don’t come to Zapallar with you all. I’m weary. I’d really appreciate some time alone. I know you understand me better than anyone. I want some quiet time without the children,’ he said carefully, knowing how to get around his mother from years of practice.
Mariana concealed her disappointment. ‘Well, seeing as you’re spending so much time with us I’ll let you off,’ she said and chuckled.
‘Four weeks,’ he said.
‘Is it really that long until New Year?’ she asked in amazement. ‘No, it must
be less, mi amor, we’re already in December.’
‘Well, just under.’
‘What have you got the children for Christmas?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied truthfully. He and Helena had been so preoccupied with their own troubles they had completely forgotten about Christmas.
‘You gave Fede that stunning box. I think she’s so happy with that she won’t expect anything else,’ said Mariana, remembering the staggering beauty of that strange object.
‘Oh, Helena has bought them trunkloads of gifts. In that department they are certainly not lacking,’ he chuckled.
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