The Butterfly Box

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘I understand you have taken my daughter under your wing,’ said Ramon. ‘I’m very grateful to you.’

  Ingrid patted Federica on her head as though she were a rather well behaved dog. ‘It’s a pleasure. My daughters adore her. My father is right, Ramon, you must come for lunch. How long are you staying?’ she asked, hoping he was going to stay for a long time. She liked nothing more than colourful people.

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  ‘Divine! I love a man who takes every day as it comes. Much the best way to go through life. It lasts longer that way,’ she said and laughed. Then she leaned

  in closer to him and whispered, ‘We have invited the vicar to lunch today, so I think we had best be heading back to Pickthistle Manor. You will come to lunch, won’t you?’ she added. ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course. It would be a pleasure,’ he replied with a courteous inclination of his head.

  ‘Good. Tomorrow it is then. Bring Helena and the children. It’s always a delight to see your wife.’

  Helena was furious. ‘You want to go around presenting as a family?’ she raged. ‘How dare you show up here and take everything over.’

  ‘I’m not taking anything over. I came to see my children. Isn’t that what you wanted?’

  ‘You sweep in without a single apology for not writing, not calling, not being there when your children need you.’

  ‘I’m here now,' he replied.

  ‘You’re here now, but gone tomorrow. I had given up on you. It was easier to give up. Now you’re back I don’t know where I am any more.’ She folded her arms in front of her obstinately.

  Ramon shrugged his shoulders and sighed. There was simply no point in arguing with her. He watched her rigid features; the bitter line of her mouth, the pinched skin and frozen eyes and remembered why he had let her go. ‘What more can I say? I’m sorry,’ he ventured in an attempt to alter her expression.

  Her lips twitched as she pondered her next move. ‘I don’t want Fede to hear us arguing again,’ she said. ‘Let’s go for a walk and discuss this calmly.’

  They walked up the lane, through a mossy wooden gate and into the field and woods beyond. Helena lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into the icy air where it floated on the cold like fog. Ramon was dismayed to find that Helena hadn’t changed at all in the months that they had been apart. She was just as unhappy as ever. She hadn’t even bothered to wash her hair for church. He was disappointed. He sensed a strange feeling of deja va along with those familiar contractions in his gut, that summoned him away.

  ‘So how long will you be staying?’ she asked as they walked up the field, their boots scrunching into the melting snow.

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Ramon replied, struggling against the impulse to return as quickly as possible to the serene and untroubled home Estella had forged for

  him.

  ‘Nothing’s changed, has it?’ she sighed. ‘Well, I’ll tell you how long you’ll stay, a week, perhaps ten days, then we’ll begin to bore you and you’ll be off again.’

  ‘You and the children never bored me,’ said Ramon seriously.

  ‘No?’ she retorted grimly. ‘Well, that’s what it felt like.’

  ‘Look, Helena. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to surprise you,’ he said, placing his large hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off ‘Fede was pleased to see me,’ he added and smiled a small, pensive smile.

  ‘Of course she was. But you haven’t been around for the past eleven months wiping her tears. Not a day has gone by when she hasn’t thought that perhaps, just maybe, today will be the day Papa turns up. What sort of a childhood is that, Ramon? If you just wrote regularly, kept in touch, let her know your plans then she wouldn’t live in such an uncertain world. It makes her very insecure, you know, and I suffer with her.’ Her voice dripped with bitterness.

  ‘I’ll try,’ he conceded.

  ‘And what about Hal?’ she continued. ‘It’s as if he doesn’t exist. You write to Fede but not to him. He’s your son and he needs you just as much as Fede

  does. More so, because he’s never experienced your affection like she has.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said simply. ‘You’re right about everything. I haven’t come here to fight with you.’

  Helena blinked in surprise and kept her eyes fixed on the snow-laden trees in front of them. She hadn’t expected him to be so compliant.

  They walked up the path until they came to the high cliffs which cut straight down to the sea. Helena led him to a small iron bench where she often came to sit alone and gaze out over the waters. There, the view that stretched out before her into the mists of infinity would take her soul back to the sweet days of her past before acrimony had seeped in to sour it. Now she sat down and surveyed the frosty sky and icy clouds with the man whose love had once been as intense as the sun. Once more the horizon dragged her spirits out of the shadows of her unhappiness and she remembered how it had been then. She felt her heart thaw in the midst of such splendour, in the midst of such vivid memories. She burrowed in her coat pocket for her cigarettes and lighter. With a shaking hand she lit one. She felt Ramon’s overbearing presence and the desire to cry. How did it all go so dreadfully wrong?

  ‘So, how are your parents?’ she asked after a while, placing a hand on her aching temple.

  ‘Well. They’re in Cachagua.’

  ‘I miss Cachagua,’ she said quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself. She didn’t look at him but continued to stare out over her memories. ‘I miss the heat, the sea, the smells. I never thought I would miss it, but I do.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with loving two countries, you always want to be in the one you’re not in. It gives one too much choice,’ he said. ‘Sometimes it’s better not to have the choice.’

  ‘Your life must be very hard indeed, you have the whole world to choose from,’ she said and chuckled resentfully.

  ‘You have two, sometimes that’s harder.’

  ‘Oh, I’m very happy here. Very, very happy,’ she said, but Ramon was not convinced and neither was she.

  ‘Have you got one of your headaches?’ he asked, noticing her massaging her temple with her hand.

  ‘Yes, but I’m fine, they come and go,’ she replied dismissively.

  ‘Come here,’ he said, moving her so that her back was facing him. She tried

  to object but he silenced her with his assertiveness and placed his hands on her head and started massaging her.

  ‘Really, Ramon. I’m fine,’ she argued weakly as the sensation of his touch caused her skin to prickle with nostalgia.

  ‘You’re not fine. But I’m going to make you fine,’ he said and laughed.

  She resented his cheerfulness and wondered why everything was always so straightforward for him.

  Ramon’s fingers working into her skull were too pleasurable to resist so she ceased to fight and leant back against them, taking in a long, deep breath. As she relaxed her head his hands moved down to her shoulders, moving beneath her coat and sweater to her skin.

  ‘Tell me how the children have been?’ he asked and she told him about Federica’s infatuation with the Applebys, her crush on Sam and her progress at school.

  ‘She adores the Applebys,’ she said. ‘She never had many friends at school in Viña, but they’ve become like a second family to her. It’s done wonders for her confidence.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Oh, it’s wonderful. At first England frightened her. It was so cold and grey, not like the blue skies of Chile. It’s good we moved to the sea though, at least that’s familiar.’

  Then she told him about Hal and her shoulders eased up and her throat loosened until she began to laugh without bitterness or resentment.

  ‘At least they are happy here,’ he said.

  ‘They seem to be.’ She closed her eyes to the luxurious feeling of his fingers sending the blood back into her dried-out muscles.

  ‘But what about you?’ he asked.
r />   ‘Oh, Ramon. I’m fine.’

  ‘I’m asking you as a friend, not as your husband.’

  ‘You’re still my husband,’ she said throatily and smiled, recalling a lost age when their shared happiness had eclipsed the impending unhappiness that would overwhelm them.

  ‘Okay, so I’m asking you as your husband.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, shaking her head.

  ‘What do you do all day?’

  ‘I look after Hal.’

  ‘What do you do for you?’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘For you,’ he repeated.

  She thought about it for a while. She didn’t know what she did for her. She sometimes accompanied Federica up to the Applebys for tea, or took Hal to the beach. She visited Toby and Julian, chatted to her mother. But she couldn’t think of anything she did purely for her own pleasure.

  ‘I don’t know, Ramon. I can’t think of anything,’ she said bleakly and felt her throat constrict again with emotion. The children give me enormous pleasure.’ ‘Of course they do. But that’s domesticity. I mean an indulgence. A selfish pleasure which you don’t share with anyone.’

  Helena considered his question - Ramon was a master of self-indulgence and she of sacrifice, that’s why it had all gone so wrong.

  ‘Everyone needs time to themselves,’ he continued. ‘A long bubble bath, a trip to the hairdresser, I don’t know what makes you happy.’

  ‘Well, I’ve lost touch with myself,’ she sighed, ‘because I don’t know either.’ ‘Perhaps you should start thinking about you. I give you enough money?’ he asked.

  ‘You give me more than enough money.’

  ‘Well, go and spend it, for God’s sake. I don’t know what you girls do, but buy a new dress, go to a beautician, enjoy yourself. Don’t chain yourself to the nursery; you’re not a domestic. If you need a domestic, hire one. If you need a house of your own, buy one. I don’t care but you have misery written all over your face and it’s not very attractive.’

  Helena was stunned. She couldn’t remember the last time they had talked so frankly. She couldn’t remember the last time he had thought about her and her happiness. She felt her stomach stagger with the recollection of what it had been like when they had been friends. They had talked without pause, about everything and anything, laughed at the smallest things and communicated without words across the lines of love. She wondered when their conversation had dried up and why. She dared not turn around because she knew if she looked into his eyes she would close up again with uncertainty, so she kept her eyes shut in an effort to extend the moment.

  ‘I moved the children to England for me, but ironically they are the ones who enjoy it. Not me. I wonder, I don’t know, I wonder...’ She hesitated.

  ‘What?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘I wonder, oh God, Ramon, I can hardly say it.’

  ‘Say it. You’ll feel a hell of a lot better if you do.'

  ‘Have I made a huge mistake?’

  Ramon stopped massaging her shoulders. She sat up and turned to face him. He looked at her with dark, impenetrable eyes and she felt herself slowly closing up again with inhibition and shame.

  ‘Have you made a mistake?’ he asked seriously, thinking of Estella and hoping she wasn’t suddenly going to change her mind.

  ‘I don’t know whether I’ve made a mistake leaving Chile. I miss it. Perhaps it’s nothing more than nostalgia,’ she added dismissively.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he agreed thoughtfully.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I think you need to give it a chance here,’ he said. ‘You need to throw yourself into it like Fede has.'

  ‘It’s much easier for children. They just get on with things and don’t brood.’

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘It was your choice, Helena. I never asked you to leave. I didn’t want you to. But I understood why you did and I support your choice. I think you are encountering the same problems here as the ones you faced in

  Chile. You’re a mother on her own who’s dedicated her life to her children. I think you’ll find if you dedicate some of that time to you your feelings might change. You’re young, you’re good-looking.’ She blushed and turned her face away. ‘You need to find a hobby, something that takes you out of yourself and out of the home.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she said, feeling happier. ‘You know, we haven’t talked like this for years.’

  ‘I know. We were too busy resenting each other, we now know where we both stand.’

  She looked at his diffident profile as he stared out across the sea. Then lowered her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said sadly. ‘We do.’

  Federica was so happy to have her father back that she was unable to sleep. Her parents slept in different bedrooms, but she didn’t mind. She was grateful that he was there at all. Jake and Polly accepted his sudden arrival once they saw how he and Helena got on much better than they had predicted. There were no fights, no tantrums, no bitter comments, no tears. Helena washed her hair, applied makeup and even bought herself some new outfits in town. They

  disappeared every day as a family. They went for walks along the beach with the children, explored ruined castles and hidden caves. In fact, they did all the things that they had done ten years before when they had first met. The only difference was that they didn’t kiss and they didn’t laugh quite as much. But Helena was less resentful and Ramon more attentive to her needs. She no longer felt numb inside but regained her awareness. Her indifference had, after all, been nothing more than a rebellion of the senses, a stagnation of the heart. As her anger dissolved she discovered she cared. While they retraced the paths of their courtship she began to find the man she had fallen in love with behind those dense eyes and her spirit stirred for him again.

  Ingrid was enchanted by the swarthy foreigner who had suddenly appeared in their midst. He had come for lunch on Boxing Day with Helena and the children and entertained her with stories which he recounted in his thick accent and foreign intonation. She wished she spoke Spanish because she would have bought every book he’d ever written. But he charmed her none the less with stories he invented off the top of his head and tales of his adventures that he embellished with his rich imagination until he had captivated the attention

  of the whole table, even the lofty Sam who was usually bored by the men his mother suddenly ‘took shines to’.

  The weeks that ensued were punctuated with invitations to Pickthistle Manor. Helena felt herself swelling with pride as Ramon dazzled everyone with his presence and his uniqueness. The atmosphere was charged with a rare energy when he was present and no one felt it more than his wife.

  ‘Why you’re the other side of the world from this delightful young man is beyond me,’ Nuno said to Helena one day over lunch.

  ‘Oh, Nuno, it’s not that simple. You don’t have to live with him,’ she laughed.

  ‘No one else will have me besides Ingrid so it’s not an option,’ he replied, looking down at her loftily with intelligent blue eyes. ‘Sometimes one realizes what one has lost when it is too late. I hope, my dear, that you won’t suffer the same fate.’

  ‘He’s here for the children, not for me,’ she said coolly. But she looked across the table at Ramon’s animated face and wished he had come for her. She wished he could just bury his pride and beg her to come back to him. She

  wished he could change for her. But her heart sank because she knew the true nature of the man. He was like the wind and he always would be - he’d never know where he was going to blow next.

  ‘Ramon’s the same as ever, Nuno, when he’s with you, you feel there’s no one in the world more special to him than you. Take Federica, for example.’ They both looked over at the small child who clung onto every word her father said. Everything she did was for his benefit; her laughter, her jokes, her stories, her comments, her smiles. She worshipped him. ‘Federica believes he loves her more than anyone else in the whole world. Right now he does. I really believe that. He�
�s full of remorse that he didn’t come earlier, that he never wrote or called. He’s mortified. Wracked with guilt. But then he’ll be off soon and we won’t hear from him for months, perhaps years. Because with Ramon, out of sight is out of mind, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Love is understanding someone’s faults and loving them in spite of them,’ said Nuno philosophically.

  ‘Is that a quote?’ she chuckled.

  ‘No. It’s mine, but unfortunately not terribly original. None the less, it’s true.’

  ‘Ramon and I spent years trying to understand each other until we gave up trying.’

  ‘It’s never too late to try again.’

  ‘I don’t know. I think we’ve always misunderstood one another.’

  “‘To be great is to be misunderstood,”’ Nuno quoted. ‘Ralph Waldo Emerson. A very perceptive man.’

  ‘So I see.’

  ‘He also said another very acute thing, my dear.’

  ‘What is that?’

  Nuno leant over to her and whispered in her ear. “‘We are always getting ready to live, but never living.’”

  Helena thought about that all through lunch and throughout the afternoon. Indeed, for some reason she was unable to think of anything else.

  ‘Fede?’ said Hal, brushing his teeth over the basin.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you think Papa is going to stay?’

  Federica hung his wet towel over the radiator. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, not

  wishing to voice her hope in case she raise her brother’s unnecessarily.

  ‘Maybe he’ll take us back to Viña,’ he added, spitting into the running water.

  ‘I don’t think he’ll take us back to Viña, Hal,’ she replied carefully.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because we live here now.’

  ‘I would rather live in Viña,' he said decisively.

  ‘But you love it here with Granny and Grandpa,’ she insisted.

  ‘I miss Abuelito.’ He pulled a sad face.

  ‘So do I, Hal.’

  ‘Grandpa doesn’t carry me on his shoulders or swing me around by the arms,’ he complained.