The Butterfly Box

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘Divorce will not be easy,’ said Mariana, thinking of the Catholic Church that prohibited it.

  ‘I know,’ Ramon replied. ‘We don’t want a divorce. We don’t want to marry anyone else. We just want to be free of each other.’

  ‘And I want to go home,’ said Helena, surprised that she and Ramon were at last agreeing on something.

  Ramon thought of Estella and wished he could take her away with him. Helena thought of the shores of Polperro and felt herself getting nearer.

  ‘When are you going to break it to those dear little children?’ Mariana asked coldly. She thought their actions wholly selfish. Think very carefully before you do it,’ she warned. ‘You’ll hurt them beyond repair. I hope you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘We’ll tell them tomorrow, before we go back to Viña,’ said Helena resolutely, watching her husband warily. How far did she have to push him? she thought, his heart must be made of stone. Mariana pulled herself up from her chair and retreated sadly into the house. She suddenly looked old.

  ‘At least they’ll have their grandparents around to comfort them,’ Ramon said with bitterness, looking at his wife accusingly.

  ‘This isn’t my fault, Ramon,' she said in exasperation. ‘You’re the one who is refusing to change.’

  ‘It’s no one person’s fault, Helena,’ Ignacio interrupted. ‘It’s the fault of the both of you. But if that is what you want it’s the way it has to be. It’s life and life isn’t always a bed of roses.’ Ramon wished it were a bed of Estella’s roses. ‘Tell them tomorrow and be kind,’ he added, but he knew there was no gentle way to tell children that their parents no longer loved each other.

  Helena was too emotional to sleep. She sat outside beneath the stars, devouring one cigarette after another, watching the smoke waff into the air on the breeze before being swallowed up by the night. She was deeply saddened and anxious about telling her beloved children, but she knew it couldn’t be avoided. It would have been crueller to pretend nothing was wrong. They’d suspect something in the end, or at least Federica would. She imagined her daughter’s innocent face and felt a stab of guilt penetrate her heart. She dropped her head into her hands and wept. She tried to convince herself that it would all be okay once they were settled in Polperro. They would be gathered up by her parents, whom Federica had met a few times and Hal only once. They would love England and make new friends. She thanked God she had always spoken English to them, at least that was one obstacle they wouldn’t have to overcome.

  It must have been about one in the morning when she treaded softly down the corridor towards the room where her children were quietly sleeping. She crept in and watched their still bodies in the dim moonlight. They slept unaware of the earthquake that was going to shatter their lives on the morrow. She ran her white hand down Hal’s brown face and kissed him on his cheek. He stirred and smiled but didn’t wake up. Then she tiptoed over to where

  Federica slept, her magical butterfly box on her bedside table where she could guard it, even in her sleep. She picked up the box and studied it without opening it for she didn’t want to wake them with the music. Her heart lurched when she recalled Federica’s happy face gazing up at her father in gratitude, holding his gift against her chest, treasuring it as much because it was from him as for the box itself. Suddenly she was overcome with remorse. She couldn’t do it to them. She couldn’t tell them. She couldn’t deprive them of their father. As much as she needed to leave for herself she suddenly felt unable to use her children as innocent pawns in her battle with Ramon. She would have to think of another strategy, another plan.

  Weeping she ran down the corridor to Ramon’s room. She wanted to tell him she had thought again. That she had realized she wasn’t able to tear their children away from everything that was familiar to them. Gasping for breath, the tears blurring her vision, she stood trembling outside his bedroom door, afraid to go in. She placed her hand on the doorknob, about to turn it, when she heard voices. Surprised, she held her breath and listened. Appalled, she recoiled. He was making love to someone. She recognized his sighs immediately and the slow rustle of sheets. When the low, contented laughter of a woman resounded off the walls she felt her stomach churn with fury. She wanted to storm in and expose them. But she was afraid of Ramon, she always had been. Pressing her ear to the door she strained to recognize the voice of the woman. She heard whispering and more laughter. It revolted her that he could be making love to another woman under the same roof as his children. Then it all fell into place. The woman could only be Estella. She then remembered their conversation about Estella and her lover and recalled the look of pride that had inexplicably swept across his conceited face. No wonder he had been so pleased with himself. She could scarcely restrain her anger and her disappointment. She had been ready to sacrifice her happiness. It was plain that he wasn’t ready to sacrifice his - not even for his own children. She stepped back and, blinking away tears of pain and self-pity, she walked defeated up the corridor to her room.

  The following morning Helena awoke early. It wasn’t surprising she had slept badly, a shallow sleep tormented by disturbing dreams brought on by anxiety. She had tossed in her sheets, struggling with the implications of her husband’s infidelity. She had been so close to changing her mind, but now

  nothing could alter it. Not even repentance. The carefree chatter of birds and the timid dawn light nudged her back to consciousness and she was relieved the night was over. She showered and dressed before lighting a cigarette to give her courage. She was going to talk to Ramon.

  She opened the shutters and blew the smoke out into the fresh morning air. The sea was pale and smooth, gently caressing the shore with the rhythmic motion of the tide. It reminded her of Polperro although the sea was very different in Cornwall. There the waves came crashing into the land. They used to throw themselves against it as children and surf onto the beach, which was dense like clay and good for building castles. The smells were different too. The salty ozone, the damp and the coarse sand full of crabs and rock pools lined with prickly urchins. Her heart lurched for her home and hardened her resolve. She stubbed her half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and taking a deep breath walked purposefully towards the door.

  She hesitated outside his room. The voices were now silent and she could feel the contented sleep of satisfied lovers seeping through the gap below the door. Recalling the horror of her discovery she turned the doorknob and marched in. Ramon was lying on his back. Estella was curled up against him with her head on his chest. His hand was flopped over her long black hair that lay loose and wanton down her back. They were naked except for the sheet, which did little to cover them. Helena stood with her arms folded in front of her, her mouth little more than a thin line of bitterness. Ramon felt her presence in his dreams and opened his eyes. He didn’t move, but stared at her as if trying to focus, not sure whether he was still in the realm of fantasy. He blinked. Helena stood staring back at him in disgust. He then realized that blinking wasn’t going to send her away or wake him up because he was already awake. He nudged Estella who writhed in that pleasurable state of half-sleep. He nudged her again, this time more urgently. She opened her eyes in alarm to find Helena smouldering at the end of the bed. She gasped in horror, leapt off the mattress with a cry and hastily gathering her clothes, ran from the room, sobbing in shame. Ramon put his hands behind his head and glared at her.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing, Helena?’ he said, as if she were guilty of intruding.

  She shook her head in disbelief. ‘What do you mean, what am .' doing?’ she snapped in fury. ‘You’re fornicating with the maid under the same roof as your wife and children. Don’t you have any respect?’

  ‘Calm down, Helena.' he said in a patronizing tone. ‘We both know our marriage is little more than a shoddy bit of paper. You’re the one who wants to end it. I don’t. I don’t want to tear our family apart, you do. What does it matter to you whether I sleep with the maid or anyone else?’ H
e sat up.

  ‘It doesn’t matter to me whom you choose to fornicate with, Ramon. But I would have thought you’d have some human decency left. Your children are in the room down the corridor. What if Fede had had a nightmare and come looking for you?’ she reasoned, her eyes livid with exasperation.

  ‘She didn’t,’ he said flatly.

  Thank God.'

  ‘Look, it’s your decision to leave me and take them to England,’ he said, raising his voice.

  ‘Only because you don’t want us any more,’ she replied, almost shouting at him in frustration. ‘You said so yourself, the minute you arrive home you long to leave again. How do you think that makes us feel? We’re not a family any more and you know it.’ She wanted him to protest that they could be, that he wanted to try to make it work, but he just narrowed his empty black eyes and stared back at her.

  ‘Okay. We’ve already discussed this,’ he said and yawned. ‘We’ll tell the children today as planned and you can leave as soon as you’re ready. I won’t stop you.’

  ‘No, you won’t, because it doesn’t suit you to stop me. I’m giving you your freedom. All of it,’ she said. ‘Now you won’t have to come home ever again.’

  In the brief pause that followed, while they both simmered at each other with loathing, the deep, heartbroken sobs of Federica trickled under the door. Helena gasped. Ramon went pale. ‘Oh my God,’ he murmured, standing up and scrambling into his trousers as he rushed towards the door. They both opened it at the same time to find their daughter in a crumpled, shivering heap on the floor. She had heard everything. Estella had run past her bedroom sobbing, waking her up and sending her to her mother’s room in a panic, only to find her mother wasn’t there. She reached her father’s room in time to hear them shatter everything she had grown up to believe in.

  ‘Fede, sweetie,’ said Helena, crouching down and gathering her into her arms. ‘It’s all right. Papa and I were just having a silly argument.’

  ‘We didn’t mean everything we said,’ Ramon added, trying to take her from her mother's embrace.

  ‘Leave us alone, please, Ramon,' said Helena in a voice of raw steel. Ramon pulled away, surprised by the force of her tone. He watched helplessly as his wife lifted Federica into her arms and carried her down the corridor to her room. Once inside she closed the door, shutting him out. He suddenly felt a tremendous wave of loneliness. He walked back into his room and sat down on the bed. He didn’t know what to do with himself. His chest burned with guilt and remorse. He hung his head in his hands and wept.

  Helena sat on the bed with her sobbing daughter clinging to her in despair. She wrapped her arms around her and gently rocked her, kissing her fevered brow and running her hands down her long hair in an effort to soothe her. It broke her heart to see her suffer so and she felt the resentment towards her husband rise in her stomach like bile.

  ‘It’s all right, Fede. Papa loves you very very much,’ she said. ‘We both love you very much.’

  ‘Papa doesn’t want us any more.’ The child sobbed. ‘If he wanted us he wouldn’t go away all the time.’ Helena wanted to shoot her husband for the pain he caused his children. They were innocent victims of an adult world which they were too young to understand.

  ‘Papa does want us. At least he wants you and Hal. He loves the two of you so much. That’s why we’re both so unhappy. Because we want you and Hal, but we don’t want each other.’

  ‘Don’t you love Papa any more?’

  ‘It’s not that simple, sweetie,’ she said, trying to lessen the blow. ‘Papa travels so much, it’s his work and he has to do it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to be with us. You know all those wonderful stories he tells you?’ Federica nodded. ‘Well, he wouldn’t have those colourful tales to tell you if he didn’t go to wonderful places around the world. He comes back full of fantastic adventures to tell you, and of course the magic box he found you. If he didn’t love you he wouldn’t have given you that box. He wouldn’t spend so much time with you. So don’t doubt his love, sweetie. Mama and Papa just don’t want to be together any more. But that’s nothing to do with you and Hal. This is to do with us, and only us. Do you understand?’ Federica nodded. ‘Now we’re going on an adventure. You, me and Hal,’ she said, trying to make it sound exciting.

  ‘To England,’ said Federica gloomily.

  Helena winced at the proof that she had heard their entire conversation. ‘Yes, to England,’ she said. ‘Now you’ll love England. We’re going to a

  beautiful town by the sea. There are lovely big seagulls that fly over the beaches. The rocks are full of crabs and shrimps. You can go fishing with Grandpa and Granny will take you to the fair. There are ruined castles to explore and new friends waiting to know you.’

  ‘But will I ever see Abuelito and Abuelita again?’ she asked forlornly.

  ‘Of course you will. And Papa will come and see us just like he always has done. Except we’ll have a different house and no one will speak Spanish. We’ll live with Grandpa and Granny, so you’ll see them all the time.’

  ‘Can I take the butterfly box with me?’

  ‘Of course you can, sweetie. You can take anything you like.’

  ‘I won’t see Rasta any more,’ she said in panic. ‘Who will walk him?’ ‘Someone will walk him. Don’t you worry.’

  ‘He’ll start barking again.’

  ‘Maybe we can buy you your own dog. Would you like that?’ Helena suggested, desperate to make it up to her child.

  Federica sat up and wiped her nose with her hand. Her eyes opened very wide with a tremor of excitement. ‘Can I have a dog of my very own?’ she asked. Suddenly England didn’t sound so bad.

  ‘Yes. You can have a dog all of your very own,’ Helena said, relieved that Federica was smiling again.

  ‘When are we going to England?’ she asked.

  ‘As soon as we have packed everything up at home.’

  ‘Can I go and tell Abuelita that I’m going to have my own dog,’ she said, slipping off her mother’s knee.

  ‘I’ll come with you. Let’s get you dressed first and wake up Hal.’

  When Ramon walked out onto the terrace, Helena was at the breakfast table with Federica, Hal and his parents. His eyes darted from one to the other anticipating his wife to have told them everything. Federica watched him warily over her cup of chocolate milk. Hal chattered away as if nothing had happened. Ramon sat down next to his mother and waited for someone to speak.

  ‘Fede tells me she’s going to get a dog of her very own when she gets to England,’ said Mariana and although she smiled her eyes showed their strain. She only had to imagine them leaving for her vision to cloud with misery.

  ‘Really, Fede? That’s wonderful,’ he said sheepishly. ‘What are you going to call it?’

  ‘Rasta,’ she said but she didn’t smile. Ramon felt his heart ache.

  ‘Why can’t I have a dog?’ Hal whined, looking up at his mother.

  ‘You can enjoy Rasta too,’ she said wearily, trying to sound happy when all she wanted to do was hide away and cry.

  ‘I want a rabbit,’ he said. ‘Are there rabbits in England?’

  ‘If you get a rabbit, Rasta might eat him, Hal,’ Federica said not unkindly.

  ‘Lidia doesn’t like dogs, so Fede will have to leave Rasta in England when we come back,’ he said, taking his mug in both hands and gulping down his iced chocolate.

  Ramon and Helena caught eyes where they both remained for a long moment, staring at each other helplessly. Helena hadn’t had the courage to tell Hal that they wouldn’t ever be coming back.

  When Estella appeared on the terrace, pale and ashamed, Ramon realized that Helena hadn’t told anyone about his adultery, for Mariana commented on her appearance with the same curiosity she had shown earlier.

  ‘Oh dear. I think Estella’s had a fight with her lover. She doesn’t look very happy,’ she said, sipping her coffee.

  ‘She’ll get over it,’ said Ignacio with indifference
.

  ‘Yes, she will,’ Helena agreed without looking at her husband. ‘Some men are not worth the tears,’ she added caustically.

  Estella returned to the kitchen and once more burst into tears of shame and self-pity. She recalled Señora Helena’s face, twisted with fury, as she stood as still as an icon of the Virgin Mary at the end of the bed. Don Ramon would never speak to her again. It had been heavenly but now God would surely punish her. She had only asked for a night and she had been given so much more. But it wasn’t enough. She loved him. She knew she shouldn’t. He wasn’t from her world and the class divides were as wide as they were severe. But her heart was ignorant of the boundaries and yearned for him still.

  After breakfast Helena tried to encourage Federica to play with Hal, but all she wanted to do was curl up on her mother’s lap and suck her thumb, which she had stopped doing a long time ago. Helena wanted to talk to Mariana. She had only managed to tell her that Federica had been told as gently as possible that she was going to live in England. Federica had then rushed in and told her grandparents that she was going to be given a dog.

  Ramon offered to take Federica down to the beach for a swim, but she held her magic box to her chest and curled up closer against her mother. Ramon felt crestfallen. Ignacio went with him instead and they talked man to man. As Helena had only informed them that Federica had been told, Ramon didn’t enlighten his father on any further details. He didn’t want to be cast in a bad light. His parents didn’t need to know any more. He thought of Estella, pictured her bowed head and the hurt in her eyes and longed to go to her.

  Federica helped her mother pack their clothes while Hal made a nuisance of himself unpacking everything they put into the cases. Federica chose to carry her box herself, she didn’t want to lose it among all their clothes and Christmas presents. Ramon hurriedly searched the kitchen for Estella. He knew he didn’t have much time before they had to leave and he didn’t want to be caught again. He wandered around the house pretending to search for his camera. He found her finally in her room, weeping on her bed into the cotton and lace pahuelo her grandmother had made her. When he stood in the doorway she sniffed and told him to leave. But Ramon knew better than to believe that was what she wanted. He sat down next to her and cupped her tear-stained face in his rough hands.