The Butterfly Box

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘I don’t think I can go anywhere dressed like this,’ she said and laughed smoothly.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked, turning to face her. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows suggestively, tossing her dress onto the grass with a sly grin.

  ‘What if your boyfriend comes back, I might give him a fright?’ she said, running a hand down her naked body. Julian was surprised but not shocked. He

  had been in the business for long enough to have experienced almost every kind of come-on. In fact, he was tired of fighting them off. Beautiful women found it hard to believe that he didn’t desire them in spite of his open homosexuality. They were all sure they could convert him and deeply offended when they discovered that they couldn’t. Julian clicked the film into the camera and wound it on as if he hadn’t noticed her.

  ‘Right then, sweetheart,’ he said in a brisk tone. ‘Let’s have you somewhere else, that divan’s getting tedious.’ He cast his eye about the garden. ‘A chair under that blossom tree. You’ll look like a forest nymph, very alluring,’ he said, disappearing into the house. Lucia sighed heavily but not in surrender. She was very sure of her charms.

  Julian placed the chair under the pink and white blossom and moved his tripod and camera into position. Lucia glided over naked and turned the chair around so that the back was facing the camera, then she silkily placed herself astride it, resting her head on her folded arms, staring unblinking at Julian.

  ‘Now, sweetheart, I really don’t think this is a good idea. You’re a singer not a porn star,’ he said, focusing.

  ‘This one’s for you,’ she said and smiled graciously, expecting him to be

  grateful.

  He wasn’t. ‘I’m afraid it’ll go into a file and be forgotten. What did you say your boyfriend was called? Let’s do it for him,’ said Julian, changing to Polaroid.

  ‘He’s called Torquil.’

  ‘Well, this one’s for Torquil,’ he said, replacing the Polaroid with film.

  ‘He’ll be very amused,’ she said, sitting up straight and smirking at him. ‘We can give him the Polaroid as a present when he comes to pick me up later.’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ he replied, tearing open the Polaroid and taking a look at the image. ‘Very nice, Lucia. Playboy would kill for it. Perhaps you should think of changing your career path - it’s less effort and you seem to be a natural.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t pose like this for just anyone,’ she said thickly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

  ‘You could have fooled me,’ he replied, clicking again. ‘Now sultry, I don't want you smiling. Smoulder, look alluring, cross even. That’s better. There, head up a bit, yes, higher, now a little to one side, less, there, eyes to camera, flash them at me. Good.’ And he clicked a whole roll.

  ‘Now, how about you put your clothes back on and we do some more publicity shots,’ he said, changing the roll.

  ‘I’m bored of posing and anyhow, I like to be naked. Don’t you?’

  ‘Sometimes, but not when I’m working.’

  ‘I’m not working now, I’m playing.’

  ‘Well, let’s have some tea then.’ He began to pack up his equipment. He looked up at the sky and noticed the storm was almost upon them. ‘We definitely got the best of the day,’ he said, folding up his tripod.

  ‘Oh no, the best of the day is still to come,’ she said, getting up from the chair and walking towards him.

  Julian sighed wearily. ‘Actually, Lucia, it really isn’t.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she said firmly, stopping in front of him and running a long nail down between his pectoral muscles. ‘You look after yourself, don’t you?’

  Julian grabbed her hand with his and removed it from his body. ‘Lucia, I’m gay. I like boys and you’re a girl. It’s very simple,’ he said seriously.

  ‘Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t think about it occasionally?’ she said and pouted.

  Julian was repelled. ‘Not at all,’ he replied.

  She then placed a hand on the front of his trousers. ‘I can feel you desire me.’

  Then you have less experience than I thought, because I’m far from aroused,’ he said brutally.

  At least she had the decency to blush. ‘You’re afraid Torquil might turn up. I can assure you he won’t. It’s too early. I said I’d be here all afternoon.’

  ‘Let’s go in and have some tea,’ he suggested again, moving past her.

  Suddenly the clouds were upon them and a clap of thunder sent a shuddering vibration across the earth, drenching them both in the rainfall that ensued. Giggling, Lucia ran for cover into the house, followed closely by Julian. Once inside the dark interior she fell upon him, kissing him and undoing his trousers.

  ‘Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,’ said Toby, standing stiffly in the doorway. He had watched them run in out of the rain and although his stomach lurched, he knew Julian fended off over-enthusiastic girls all the time, it was part of the job.

  Lucia pulled herself away and wiped her wet face with the back of her hand. ‘You must be Toby,’ she said. ‘Are you convertible too? We could have a

  threesome.’

  ‘Sorry, no takers,’ said Toby coolly, ‘but I’ll put the kettle on so you don’t catch a chill.’

  ‘I don’t have anything to wear. My dress will be soaked,’ she said, leaning back against the wall and grinning at Julian. ‘Saved by the rain, cameraman.’ She giggled.

  ‘I’ll lend you a shirt,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Toby, I’ll have a coffee, a strong one please. Come on, Lucia.’

  While Julian was upstairs with Lucia, Toby stood by the kettle and tried to suppress the jealousy that sunk into his belly, dragging with it the good mood with which he had arrived. He stared at his reflection in the silver surface of the kettle but as much as he despised the expression on his face there was very little he could do to remove it.

  Just then the front door opened and in ran Federica, short of breath from cycling and carrying in her arms a fluffy white puppy. ‘My God!’ he exclaimed. ‘Whose is that?'

  ‘It’s mine, Uncle Toby,’ she cried, placing him carefully on the kitchen tiles.

  ‘He’s adorable.’

  ‘Isn’t he?’

  ‘What’s he called?’

  ‘Rasta,’ she said. ‘Because I knew a Rasta in Chile. Look, it even says his name on his collar.’

  Toby bent down and stroked his soft fur. ‘Cuddly little thing,’ he mused. ‘I suppose you’re going to let it sleep in your bed with you.’

  ‘If Mama lets me.’

  ‘That’s a difficult one,’ he said, knowing how strict Helena could be.

  ‘No it isn’t. She wants me to like her boring boyfriend and he gave me the dog. So I suspect she’ll let me do anything I want.’

  ‘Ah.’ Toby nodded, standing up. ‘Arthur.’

  ‘Do you like him?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ he replied diplomatically.

  ‘Do you think they should marry?’ she asked.

  ‘Do you know something I don’t?’

  ‘No. Just, what if?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think Helena is ready to marry again,’ he replied, taking a few mugs down from the cupboard and pouring the boiled water into the teapot.

  ‘I think she is. They’re always together holding hands and kissing. I think he's ugly. Papa is so handsome.’

  ‘Beauty isn’t everything, Fede. He’s a kind, gentle person and he wants to look after your mother. I think that’s much more important than beauty.’

  ‘I don’t like him,’ she said, sitting on floor and pulling the puppy into her lap.

  ‘That’s only natural. If he wasn’t in love with your mother you’d probably like him very much.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave Polperro,’ she said seriously.

  ‘Why on earth would you ever leave Polperro?’

  ‘Because if Mama marries him I’ll have to go and live in town with them.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that�
�s another “what if”.’

  ‘But I won’t go,’ she insisted.

  ‘You can live with us instead. I’m never going to leave Polperro,’ he said casually, without hearing the turning cogs of her mind or noticing the seed that he had sown there.

  ‘Do you mean that?’ she asked in amazement.

  ‘Do I mean what?’ he said, spooning out the tea bags from the pot.

  That I can live with you if Mama marries Arthur?’

  ‘Oh that. Yes, darling, you can live with me and Julian. Most certainly.’

  When Lucia returned to the kitchen dressed only in a large shirt of Julian’s she barely noticed the pale child with luminous skin and long white hair sitting on the floor playing with a puppy. Julian introduced them but Lucia wasn’t interested in children and didn’t like dogs because they were too hairy and smelt. So she forced a brief smile as she stepped over them on her way to the mug of steaming tea Toby had made for her. She leant against the railing of the Aga to keep warm and sipped her tea.

  ‘Where’s that Polaroid, Jules, I want to show Toby,’ she giggled, crossing her naked legs to keep warm.

  ‘I don’t know where I put it,’ said Julian weakly.

  ‘Yes you do. Go on, don’t be a spoilsport. I look my best.’

  ‘Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, Lucia, and I’ve seen you look better,’ he replied, digging about in his bag. Finally he pulled out the photograph and handed it to her. She looked at it and smiled proudly.

  ‘Torquil’s going to love this. Can you blow one up for me, really big? Then

  I’ll give it to him for his birthday,’ she said, showing it to Toby.

  Toby smiled to hide his disgust. ‘I’m afraid the only pussy I’m interested in is the four-legged variety,’ he said cuttingly.

  Lucia swallowed her tea to hide her indignation then offered to show the shy little girl who sat quietly on the floor in order ‘to teach her a few things’.

  Federica blinked up at her uncle in confusion but neither Julian nor Toby thought Lucia’s joke very funny and wished her boyfriend would hurry up and come and collect her.

  When Torquil finally arrived, the engine of his Porsche sending the nesting pigeons and swallows into the air in panic, he strode confidently into the house without knocking. ‘Ah, there you are, Lucia,’ he said when he found them in the kitchen. He ignored Julian and Toby, passing them over with a superior grimace and looked his girlfriend up and down suspiciously. ‘Where are your clothes?’ he asked. She handed him the photograph and watched as his cheeks drained into his neck, turning it red with fury.

  ‘What the hell is this all about? I thought you were doing publicity shots, not porn,’ he snapped, pushing his dark hair off his beautiful face.

  ‘This one was a special one for you,’ she said, kissing him.

  ‘If the photographer wasn’t gay I’d kill you,’ he said without smiling.

  ‘Oh, he’s gay. Quite gay,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you, Julian?’

  Julian recoiled. He wanted them both out of his house at once. ‘I’ll send you the shots once I’ve developed them. It’ll take a few days,’ he said, ignoring her. Ignoring both of them. They were two of the most self-satisfied people he had ever met.

  ‘Right then, let’s not hang around. We’ve got to be in London by seven for the premiere of Crazy Hearts, and you, sweetness, take hours to get ready.’

  ‘That very much depends on what she wears, I should imagine,’ Toby said, grinning at Julian.

  ‘Come on,’ Torquil repeated, deliberately overlooking Toby and ushering Lucia out of the kitchen.

  Federica watched them go. He had been quite handsome, she thought, and wondered why men like him fell in love with nasty girls like Lucia. She hadn’t even bothered to pat Rasta.

  ‘I’ll give you back your shirt sometime, I won’t forget,’ Lucia called from the hall.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Julian shouted, relieved that they were leaving. ‘You can keep

  Once again the motor sent every bird and animal hurrying for cover. When it had gone the silence was almost audible. Julian and Toby sighed heavily. Thank God they’re gone.' said Julian, putting his arms around Toby and hugging him. ‘That’s not what it looked like,’ he added apologetically.

  ‘I know,’ said Toby. ‘And I know you.’

  ‘Good.’ He breathed heavily and rested his head on Toby’s shoulder. ‘Where’s that strong coffee?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you prefer whisky?’

  ‘You’re right. Much better. I need a week off after that. What hideous human beings. I hope they don’t breed.’

  ‘They shouldn’t be allowed to.’

  ‘The tragedy is that they do,' said Julian.

  ‘Ours is that we don’t,’ Toby laughed, patting his friend on the back.

  ‘When I come and live here, can I bring Rasta?’ asked Federica, who was still sitting quietly on the floor.

  Toby and Julian both turned to look at her together.

  ‘Good God, I forgot you were there,’ said Toby in surprise.

  ‘Of course you can bring Rasta,’ said Julian, then he looked at Toby. ‘When’s she moving in?’

  Chapter 23

  Just when Helena thought she would never be able to make up her mind whether or not to marry Arthur, she received a telephone call that decided her future for her.

  ‘Helena, it’s Ramon, I’m in London.’

  Helena’s stomach turned over at the sound of his granular voice, a voice that held within it the resonance of too many memories. She floundered, not knowing what to say, wanting to be furious but not having had the time to rouse her fury.

  ‘Helena?’ He repeated into the silence.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked coldly, playing for time.

  ‘I want to see my children,’ he replied.

  ‘You can’t,’ she said simply, fumbling for her cigarettes, remembering Arthur’s advice to breathe deeply when she was nervous, but it was all she could do to breathe at all. She was not going to allow him to revive Federica’s distress; she was just beginning to get over him.

  ‘Helena, you can’t prevent me from seeing my own children,’ he replied. ‘I

  received a letter from Fede. She needs me.’

  ‘Like a hole in the head, Ramon,’ she said sarcastically, placing the cigarette in her mouth and lighting it unsteadily.

  ‘You’re angry.’

  ‘Of course I’m angry, Ramon. I haven’t seen you for seven years,’ she snapped, blowing the smoke out into the mouthpiece. ‘Bloody hell, Ramon! Who do you think you are?’

  ‘Calm down,’ he said, then inhaled deeply. His tone was irritating.

  ‘For God’s sake. You’re a useless father. I’m surprised Fede hasn’t forgotten about you. She damn well should have. My brother’s been more of a father to her than you ever were. You can’t come back here after seven years and expect us all to embrace you. You chose to rush off again and you chose not to come back. If you’re regretting it, too bad.’

  ‘So, who’s Arthur?’ he asked.

  She dragged heavily on her cigarette. ‘My fiance,’ she replied smugly.

  ‘That’s what Fede feared.’

  ‘So that’s why you’ve come is it? Fede’s knight in shining armour, what a joke.’

  ‘I’m coming down whether you like it or not,’ he said.

  ‘Fine, but I won’t let you near the children.’

  ‘If you want to deprive your own children of their father, that’s up to you, but I’m coming anyway.’ He put the telephone down.

  Ramon put his bag into the back of the black Mercedes and asked the driver to take him to Polperro. Then he sat in the back and brooded. It had been too easy to let them slip away. How the years had passed without him noticing the relentless passage of time. He had been too happy with Estella and Ramoncito to throw his thoughts across the ocean. Helena and the children had been like nagging stones in his shoe. He was always aware that they were there yet never got around to
doing anything about them.

  Estella loved him unconditionally like a child, tenderly like a mother and unpossessively like a friend. With her he didn’t feel the need to leave all the time, on the contrary, he travelled with speed looking forward to the day when he would be embraced in her warm arms again. Sometimes, when he was far away, alone with his thoughts, he would wake to the smell of roses and believe that she had come to relieve the increasing monotony of his solitary

  wanderings. Other times he would hear the whisper of the sea or the laughter of a stream and have to pause a moment to recall Estella’s honey voice and her joy. As Estella’s gentle features supplanted those of Helena, Federica and Hal, he found himself forgetting that they had ever existed. How easy it was to forget.

  Mariana wrote to her grandchildren with enforced regularity in order that she didn’t forget. Helena sent her photographs when she remembered and Mariana dutifully enlarged them, framed them, and gazed at them with determination, fearful that if she didn’t remind herself to look at them at least once a day she might wake up one morning to find that she hadn’t thought about them in years. In her mind’s eye they were still the little children they had been that last summer in Cachagua, in spite of the photographs that captured their growing up and their growing away. Her other grandchildren visited regularly. She now had twenty-four, making it all the more difficult to remember the two she had loved the most.

  Mariana hadn’t told Ignacio about her visit to Estella’s beach house. She knew his ears would go red with fury. He’d not only be angry but disappointed

  and she didn’t know whether his heart would be able to contain the excess of emotion without breaking. But she was unable to forget about her grandchild. She spent long evenings wandering up and down the beach, gazing out to sea, wondering what to do. She was certain that Estella would dry up with neglect, that Ramon would spend more and more time travelling, leaving his son to grow up fatherless just like Hal and Federica. When she had returned to Cachagua the morning she had visited Estella, she had been so angry with Ramon for his carelessness that she had sent Gertrude home and spent the rest of the day furiously polishing all the floors and furniture in the house. When she was through she had collapsed onto the bed and woken up at lunchtime the following day much to Ignacio’s surprise as well as her own, for he had been unable to wake her. Anxious evenings on the beach had ensued where she bit all her nails down to the quick and lost so much weight she had to buy herself a whole new wardrobe when she returned to Santiago. Ignacio believed she was suffering from missing Helena and the children and did his best to comfort her. But she couldn’t be comforted.