The Butterfly Box

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘What is it?’ Federica asked.

  ‘One of Sam’s special cigarettes. We didn’t finish it.’ Hester giggled nervously. ‘No one’s going to find us here, are they?’

  ‘Hester, it’s called a spliff, and no, no one’s going to find us here,’ said Molly, flicking her lighter. ‘I take it this is your first?’ she added, nodding at Federica, who nodded back anxiously. ‘Okay, so you smoke it like a cigarette,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve never smoked a cigarette.’

  ‘Well then, you’ll learn something new today,’ said Molly, puffing on the spliff, setting it alight. ‘Open the window, Hester.’ Hester opened it wide, and the light sound of music wafted up above the low hum of voices.

  ‘They sound like they’re having a good time,’ Hester laughed.

  ‘Not as good as us,’ said Molly, handing Federica the spliff. ‘Now, breathe in deeply, hold it in a few seconds then let it out. And for God’s sake let’s not have any of that silly coughing business, it’s so immature.’

  Federica was determined not to cough. She put the spliff to her mouth and breathed in as deeply as she could. The two sisters watched in amusement as her face flushed purple while she dutifully held her breath.

  ‘Well done,’ said Molly, taking the spliff from her and handing it to Flester.

  Federica exhaled frantically and gasped for breath.

  ‘Flow does it feel?’ Molly asked.

  ‘Okay,’ said Federica, who didn’t feel anything at all.

  ‘F!ave another go,’ said Molly, taking a drag before handing it back to her.

  After a few minutes Molly and Flester were laughing like a couple of hyenas while Federica cried without being able to stop.

  ‘I love Sam,’ she began. ‘I really do. I can’t help it. But he’ll never look at me. I’m too young and ugly. Not like that model he’s brought with him today. I suppose that’s his girlfriend?’ she asked.

  Flester and Molly laughed even louder. ‘You can’t be in love with Sam, he’s such a dork!’ said Molly. ‘Anyway, he’s only interested in one thing. They all are.’

  ‘And that’s not poetry,’ Flester smirked.

  tester, that’s so clever.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, you’ve just said something very funny.’

  ‘Well, is she his girlfriend?’ Federica sobbed.

  ‘For the moment, but of course he’ll change her next week. He has a new one every week, you know. Sam’s weekly fix,’ said Molly. ‘I’m not interested in men who only want sex. I want a man with a good mind.’

  ‘Sam has a good mind.’

  ‘Yes, he does, Fede, but it’s firmly installed in the end of his willy at the moment,’ said Molly, and she and Hester collapsed with laughter.

  Federica sobbed even harder.

  Finally, Molly realized that the spliff had only made Federica worse and instructed Hester to run off and find Toby or Julian fearing that she might kill herself with despair.

  ‘Don’t worry, Fede, you’ll go off Sam in the end. You don’t want someone that much older than you. Good God, he’ll be twenty-nine years old when you’re twenty. And anyway, you don’t want to be Federica Appleby, do you?’

  Federica was just on the point of replying that she wanted nothing more than to be Federica Appleby when the door opened and in walked Toby and

  Julian, out of breath and anxious.

  ‘Okay, girls. Why don’t you leave us alone with Fede and go back to the party,’ said Julian, waving his hand to clear the smoke.

  ‘You can chuck away the rest of that spliff,’ said Toby crossly, shaking his head. ‘You’re too young to be experimenting with those.’

  Molly and Flester scuttled out of the room. Molly had no intention of throwing away her precious spliff, they were hard to come by, especially as Sam hid them in different places all the time.

  Toby sat beside Federica and drew her into his arms while Julian sat on the chair opposite. ‘This is a horrid day for you,’ Toby said, kissing her wet face. ‘But it’ll be over soon ...’

  ‘And I’ll be leaving Polperro.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Toby, raising his eyebrows at Julian. ‘I quite forgot about that. Julian, will you stay with Fede while I nip down for a second. There’s something I need to do.’ Julian took his place next to Federica and put an arm around her.

  ‘I’m in love with someone who doesn’t love me,’ she said, blinking up at Julian in misery.

  ‘How could he not love you?’ Julian said gently. ‘Who is he and I’ll kill him?’

  ‘Sam Appleby.’ Federica sniffed.

  ‘Ah, yes, he is very attractive,’ he agreed. ‘He’s clever. I like clever men. He’s also a sensualist. You have very good taste.’

  ‘But I’m too young,’ she complained.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Julian. ‘You are at the moment. You’re what? Fourteen and he’s twenty-two or twenty-three? The sort of women he chooses at the moment are much older than you and prepared to sleep with him. That’s what he wants. All men are the same. If I were you, I’d put him on ice like a good champagne and save him up until later.’

  ‘But I can’t wait that long,’ she protested.

  ‘Of course you can. If you really want someone you’ll wait for him for ever. I’d wait for Toby for ever.’

  ‘You’re lucky you’ve got Toby,’ she said. ‘I’ve got no one.’

  ‘You’ve got us and we’ll take care of you,’ he said, squeezing her.

  ‘I just feel I don’t matter. Mama has Arthur and Hal has Mama. Papa no longer writes to me, he might just as well be dead,’ she said. ‘Arthur will never be a father to me. Never. I’d rather die.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to be your father,’ said Julian. ‘He already has children of his own. He just wants to be a husband to your mother. You can’t blame him for that. She’s very beautiful and not an easy woman either. Arthur deserves a medal.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘And she deserves a bit of happiness, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied and sighed in resignation.

  ‘It’s sad when marriages break up, it’s sad for the parents and sad for the children. But you have to move on and make the best of it,’ he said. ‘You never know, perhaps in time you can go out and see your father yourself. When you’re older you won’t need permission from anyone. You can just go. So hang in there for now.’

  When Toby returned, his face glowing with pleasure, Julian knew he had good news. Federica looked up at him hopefully wondering what his two-minute disappearance had managed to achieve. He sat down opposite her and held her hands. ‘I’ve struck a bargain with your mother. She’s in a good mood today, it was the perfect time to approach her.’

  ‘What about?’ Federica asked, not daring to imagine.

  ‘Well.' he replied, smiling. ‘If you like you can stay on at the same school and live with me and Julian during the week, as long as you return to your mother and Arthur on weekends.’

  Federica gasped in disbelief. ‘She means it?’ she exclaimed, wiping her face with her sleeve.

  ‘She does.’

  ‘And Rasta?’

  ‘And Rasta. I suppose we can cope with the two of you.’ He laughed.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Uncle Toby,’ she said in excitement, throwing her arms about his neck. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘It’ll be like weekly boarding,’ said Julian.

  ‘You can give me photography lessons,’ she said happily, ‘and I’ll bake you cakes and look after you. You won’t know what’s hit you. I’m very tidy and organized and an extremely good cook. I won’t be any trouble,’ she added, unable to contain her delight.

  ‘Cakes for photography lessons, that sounds good to me,’ said Julian, nodding his approval at Toby.

  ‘Can I move in today?’

  ‘As soon as your mother’s safely off on her honeymoon, and on one condition,’ said Toby.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked apprehensively.


  ‘That you be nice to Arthur.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ she conceded and added mischivously. ‘I won’t call him an old fart any more.’

  Jake sat in his study and smouldered like a freshly stoked piece of coal. He would like to have been at his daughter’s wedding, but she had made her choice. She wasn’t prepared to sacrifice her brother’s lover for her own father. He was deeply hurt. But Helena had always been troublesome. Ever since she was a child she had managed to have everyone running around her. She was stubborn too and always got what she wanted - well, nearly always. He pitied Arthur and wondered whether he had the endurance to satisfy her whims. He knew she still craved Ramon. She never said so, but he could tell. She had brooded over the divorce papers, not wanting to sign them yet knowing she had to, because divorce had been her choice. Like leaving him in the first place. Her choices and she had to live with them. The problem with Helena, he

  thought, was that she was used to forcing people’s hands by pushing them to the edge until they had no choice but to give in to her will. She had probably hoped Ramon would refuse to let her go, then refuse to divorce her. But he was stronger than she was. She had met her match, and lost. Arthur was a safe bet. No match there at all. Maybe after all those battles she wanted a quiet life. Don’t we all, he thought miserably, picking up a miniature wooden barrel to stick onto the pirates’ boat he was making.

  Chapter 25

  The following year was a happy one for Federica and a miserable one for Jake. While Federica lived in contentment with her Uncle Toby and Julian, baking cakes, learning how to take photographs and cycling up to Pickthistle Manor as she always had done, Jake withdrew further into the bowels of his miniature boats, disgusted that his daughter had allowed Federica to live with homosexuals at such an impressionable age. Polly tried to discuss it with him, but he wouldn’t be drawn on the subject.

  ‘It’s not right,’ he would say at his kindest and ‘It’s disgusting!’ at his most vitriolic.

  But it was all part of Helena’s plan and typical of her pattern of manipulation. She would force his hand in the end, she was sure of it.

  Polly sent Helena photographs of Jake at previous weddings so that she could superimpose him into her album, but Helena only laughed and sent them back.

  ‘Really, Mum, I thought Dad was the eccentric in the family, not you,’ she said. But Polly minded much more than she let on. She also missed having her

  daughter and grandchildren about the house and spent hours devising excuses to drive up the lane to Toby’s cottage to see Federica.

  ‘You know, Federica’s very happy, Jake,’ Polly said, one afternoon after she had watched her return from a boat trip with Toby and Julian in The Helena.

  Fler cheeks were ruddy from the wind and they were all laughing. Toby carried the picnic basket full of empty dishes that Federica had made and Julian had taken photographs. Rasta trotted along behind them, fat from sharing their vegetarian pies and weary from the games on the beach. ‘You know, they all looked so well. They could have been any normal family,’ she continued, not caring whether or not he was listening. She wanted to share her joy and was damned if his prejudice was going to stop her. He continued gluing the small pieces of wood and sticking them together with total concentration. ‘Toby’s like a father to Federica. I think it was the best thing Ftelena ever did sending her to live with them. She’s grown up so much, too. She’s a young lady now and so capable. She cooks for them and looks after them like a little mother. I’m so proud of her. So proud! Julian has taught her photography. She’s got quite an eye, you know Yes, she really has. He’s framed some of them and put them up on the wall. It’s done her self-esteem the world of good. That’s what

  she needed, a father. Now she has two.’ She eyed her husband warily but he continued to focus on his project as if he hadn’t heard her.

  When Hester approached her mother with the idea of a sixteenth-birthday party Ingrid immediately called Helena and suggested she share it with Federica. ‘Kill two birds with one stone,’ she said, knowing she wasn’t capable of organizing the party by herself.

  ‘What sort of party are you thinking of?’ Helena asked, wondering whether Ingrid knew the first thing about sixteen-year-old children and the bedlam they would make of her home.

  ‘Oh, something pretty. A nice tent,’ she said vaguely.

  Helena smiled at Ingrid’s blissful detachment. ‘What are they going to eat?’ ‘Oh, a buffet, I should imagine. I’ll get a company to do it,’ she said breezily. ‘How many people?’

  ‘How many friends do they have?’ Ingrid replied distractedly, her mind already focusing on the milky evening sky and the perfection of the lake that had now become home to flocks of nesting birds.

  ‘Why don’t we get together with the girls and discuss it,’ she said, aware that

  Ingrid’s attention was waning.

  ‘Darling, what a good idea. Why don’t you come for tea tomorrow with Federica.’ Then as an after-thought she added, ‘Do bring Hal, Joey and Lucien will be here and I know they would love to see him. We don’t see Hal so much these days.’

  Hal was very fond of Arthur. He remembered his father only rarely when the fog in his memory subsided enough for him to see him clearly. A vague impression of a man with the rough, weathered look of a wolf and the imperious nature of a king. As a child Ramon had frightened him but now he was older he only feared him in his dreams. Arthur, however, made him feel special. He took time with him, encouraged him and never belittled him. Arthur’s love for Helena was all-consuming, but never too much to come between her and her son. He understood their closeness and was touched by it. He tried to be a good father to Hal and was rewarded with the boy’s trust and affection. Helena had expected Hal to be jealous of her relationship with Arthur, it would have been only natural, but to her surprise Hal responded to him in a way he had never responded to his own father.

  Only Federica kept a candle lit for Ramon.

  Helena watched as Arthur slowly endeared himself to everyone in Polperro. Having started off as a comic figure to be laughed at, he gained the respect of the whole town by the sheer geniality of his nature. He always smiled, always took the time to talk to people and never tired of listening to their problems, offering sound advice with honesty, never gossiping about what they told him. He was a man who could be trusted. Even Ingrid grew fond of him as he won her affection through his surprising knowledge of birds and love of animals. He helped Hester rescue hedgehogs and praised Inigo’s flourishing wine cellar. Nuno nicknamed him ‘Arturo’, which everyone found very amusing and adopted at once. Only Federica continued to call him Arthur out of sheer spite. Helena was infuriated by her daughter’s unwillingness to embrace her new stepfather. She felt she was most undeserving of a party.

  ‘“Party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few,”’ said Nuno, pouring Helena a cup of tea. He raised his thick eyebrows at her, which had aged as he had and resembled two white waves on the sea.

  Helena shook her head. ‘Sorry, Nuno, beaten again,’ she said, smiling at him indulgently.

  ‘Ah, for the sharp wit of young Samuel, were he here he’d get that one in a blink.’ He sighed, putting down the pot. ‘Alexander Pope, my dear,’ he said. 1 “Woman’s at best a contradiction still,”’ he added with a smirk, ‘that’s him too.’

  ‘All right, Pa, enough showing off, my head is spinning,’ Ingrid complained, sipping her tea. ‘I’ve noticed you no longer smoke, Helena,’ she said, observing that she no longer trembled either. ‘Arturio must be doing you the world of good.’

  ‘He is. I’m very happy. Though there are times when I crave just one cigarette,’ she replied truthfully. ‘He is extremely indulgent, though. I’m very lucky.’

  ‘How nice. I wish Inigo were. The only trace of him I see these days is his black mood seeping under his study door like gravy. I wonder, are all philosophers so miserable?’

  ‘My dear, they are pondering t
he great mysteries of life which cannot be proven. That must, surely, be demoralizing,’ said Nuno wisely.

  ‘But really, he should philosophize about himself, there is no greater mystery,’ she replied.

  ‘But even more demoralizing,’ Nuno added.

  ‘Well, let’s not get distracted,’ said Helena. ‘Where are the girls, we should start discussing their party?’

  ‘Of course,’ Ingrid replied, lighting a cigarette. ‘The party. I can’t think of anything nicer than having a jolly bunch of young people to dinner in a tent. How romantic, a tent in the garden! Just like your wedding, Helena. Shame Molly’s too young to wed otherwise we could have made more use of it.’

  The date was set for a Saturday in July, midway between Federica’s birthday, which was in June, and Hester’s, which fell in August. They planned a large tent on the lawn overlooking the lake because Ingrid wanted the young people to enjoy the magnificent water at sunset. When Helena offered to pay half Ingrid waved her hand dismissively. ‘Goodness no,’ she replied, flapping her cigarette in the air. ‘It’s the least Inigo can do and besides, he’ll pay not to attend.’ She laughed mischievously.

  Helena dreaded to think what the whole event was going to cost, the girls had far too many ideas. They wanted a hundred and fifty friends, caterers, disco, dance floor and lots of alcohol. Ingrid had suggested a fruit punch but Nuno insisted that they all drink wine. ‘If you treat them like children they’ll

  behave like children,’ he said. ‘Give them wine and they’ll carry themselves with the sophistication of young Parisian aristocrats.'

  Helena didn’t think it would make the slightest bit of difference: drunk Parisian aristocrats were probably much the same as drunk Cornish schoolchildren. Nuno and Ingrid were in for a nasty surprise.

  The evening of the party was typical of English summer weather. It had rained most of the day on and off, flooding Polperro with exuberant sunshine only to withdraw it a moment later and plunge it into shadow. Federica packed her night bag and Toby dropped her off at Pickthistle Manor in the afternoon.