homosexuality that had set father against son because feelings of resentment had grown up inside him long before he had known of it. There was something else. Something much more primitive. He recalled the first time Toby had introduced him to Julian. He had noticed their closeness immediately. The way they laughed together like old friends, anticipated the other’s thoughts like brothers and enjoyed the comfortable silence of father and son. His jealousy had choked him. When he scrutinized his feelings further he realized that he had never really had a problem with Toby’s homosexuality, but it had been easier to blame his resentment on that, rather than admit his jealousy, even to himself. He was suddenly consumed with shame.
Jake was not a religious man but he felt the presence of God in Nature and it was there that he prayed. He prayed that God would forgive him and begged him to preserve both Toby’s and Julian’s lives so that he could make it up to them.
When he returned home Polly noticed that his expression had changed. Somewhere out there in the wind he had slain the dragon that tormented him. Now he was ready to join the rest of the family in hope.
Helena knew she should be strong for her son, but her misery was all
consuming. She sat watching her tears send ripples across the surface of her cup of coffee and allowed the drama to engulf her completely. When Arthur arrived she managed to raise her swollen eyes to indicate that she needed comforting. Arthur put down his briefcase and stood in the centre of the kitchen.
‘Right,’ he said in a commanding tone, placing his hands on his hips. ‘I’ve spoken to the emergency services on site and so far there’s no sign of them. At least we can be thankful that they don’t feature among the dead.’
Helena began to wail. Polly clamped her pale lips together in an effort to contain her distress. She had to be strong for the rest of her family.
‘Now, there’s nothing we can do but wait. I suggest I put a call through every fifteen minutes. Jake, keep the radio on for bulletins. Helena, don’t mourn them prematurely, while there’s no news there’s hope, at least give them that courtesy.’
Helena was stunned. She had never heard her husband speak with such authority. She blinked up at him with admiration.
‘We all have to be strong for each other. It’s not over until it’s over,’ he continued and watched his wife straighten up obediently.
‘Right, anyone for another cup of tea?’ said Polly, filling the kettle.
Federica wished she were in Polperro with the rest of her family. She lay on Torquil’s large bed in The Little Boltons and stared unblinking out of the window, willing the telephone to ring with good news. She had called Torquil’s office and left a message for him with his secretary. She strained her ears for the key in the lock until her senses were so acute that her heart leapt at the smallest sound.
Helena had telephoned her with the terrible news. But while there was no evidence of their deaths there was still hope that they were alive. She had turned on the television and watched the various reports. The train looked like a toy made out of tin that had been carelessly scrunched up by an overbearing child. She had watched the firemen struggle with the bodies of the dead and searched behind them for those of the living. But she couldn’t see Toby or Julian in the blur of unfamiliar faces. When it became too much she had turned it off, lain on the bed and waited for news from her mother.
When the telephone finally did ring she picked up the receiver with a trembling hand and was barely able to hear the voice for the squealing of her nerves in her ears. ‘Fede, it’s Hester.’
Federica’s heart plummeted. ‘Oh, Hester, hi,’ she replied in disappointment.
‘I got your number from your mother. I’m so sorry. We’re all thinking about you,’ she said. ‘Molly and I are sitting in the flat praying they’re all right.’
Thank you, Hester,’ she mumbled weakly. ‘I’m praying too.’
Hester had heard about Federica’s engagement to Torquil but felt it wasn’t the time to mention it. ‘I’ll leave the line free now, but we’re here if you need us,’ she added sympathetically before hanging up.
When the key finally turned in the lock Federica’s hearing was too concentrated on the telephone to notice. Torquil found her curled up on the bed in a tight ball. He walked over to her and drew her into his arms where she sobbed against his chest. ‘I thought you’d never come,’ she choked, wrapping her arms around his neck. ‘They might be dead.’
‘You don’t know they’re dead,’ he replied. ‘What’s the latest news?’
‘That’s the worst, there is no news.’
‘Have you been watching the television?’
‘I couldn’t bear to look. I’m waiting for Mama to call. They keep ringing that family line they give out.’
‘Right, that’s all we can do for the moment. That and pray,’ he said, stroking her hot forehead. ‘They’re going to be all right, sweetness, I just know they are.’
But Federica felt nothing but doom.
After a while Torquil stood up and paced the room. ‘Moping around isn’t going to change anything and it’s making me feel claustrophobic. Why don’t you have a bath, get dressed and we can go out for lunch to take your mind off it.’
‘I can’t have lunch at a time like this!’ she exclaimed in horror.
‘It’ll be good for you to get out of the house, have some hot soup, it’ll make the time go faster.’
‘But the telephone?’ she stammered.
‘I’ll divert it to my mobile. Don’t worry, when they know something they’ll call us wherever we are,’ he reassured her.
News travelled fast in Polperro. Ingrid chain-smoked, unable to paint or rise in her usual vague way above her cares. Inigo closed his philosophy books and sat with his wife in front of the fire, pondering on the meaning of death. Nuno shook his head and knocked back a glass of brandy lamenting that it should have been him. ‘My time is nigh,’ he sighed. ‘Those boys had years ahead of them.’
Sam sat in front of his computer at work, longing to call Federica. Molly had
rung up and told him the news. He had immediately turned on the radio and listened to the details of the crash, wishing he could comfort her like he had that day in the bluebells after she had overheard Arthur’s marriage proposal. She had been so young and forlorn then, gazing up at him with timid eyes, adoring him unconditionally. He recalled the sweet kisses in the barn and their awkward confrontation in the kitchen at Christmas and felt her drifting away from him. He already loathed Torquil Jensen. ‘What sort of a name is that, anyway?’ he thought to himself with resentment. In her confusion Molly had forgotten to tell him that Federica was engaged to be married. She had only remembered to give him Federica’s new number and ask him to call her. ‘She needs our support,’ she had explained.
Sam doodled around the number he had written on the corner of the Evening Standard and debated whether or not she would be pleased to hear from him. Then he pushed his reservations aside and dialled the number. He leant back in his chair and listened to the tone with an accelerated heart. Finally it ceased and a gravelly male voice responded with urgency, ‘Torquil here.’
Sam’s gut twisted with irritation. ‘It’s Sam Appleby for Federica,’ he stated coldly.
The man indicated his disappointment with a loud sigh. ‘She’s in the bath, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh,’ Sam replied impatiently, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose in agitation.
‘Can she call you back later? We’d like to leave the lines free. I don’t know whether you know but...’
‘I do. Just tell her I called,’ he interrupted and hung up. Angrily he stabbed his letter opener into the front of the newspaper. He regretted having telephoned at all. ‘Torquil Jensen,’ he scowled under his breath, ‘what an imbecile.’
‘Who was that?’ Federica shouted from the bathtub. Torquil chewed the inside of his cheek, deliberating whether or not to tell her. He didn’t much like the sound of Sam Appleby.
His arrogance grated. Anyway, Federica didn’t need any male friends now; she had him. ‘Nothing, sweetness, just the office,’ he replied with a smirk.
Sam Appleby might have hung up on him but he had just had the last word.
Torquil took Federica out to lunch in a small restaurant around the corner from
his house. The waiter, who knew Torquil well, gave them a table by the window and Federica sat staring unhappily out onto the grey pavement. ‘Uncle Toby has always been like a father to me,’ she said, stirring her spoon about the soup bowl. ‘My own father never bothered really, but Uncle Toby always had time for us. I have so many memories of him.’ She sighed, not bothering to wipe away a heavy tear that balanced on the end of her eyelashes.
‘You’re talking in the past, sweetness,’ said Torquil, stroking her arm with tenderness. ‘I’m sure he’s alive, you’ll see.’
‘Oh, he’s dead,’ she replied sadly. ‘If he were alive we would have heard.’
At that moment Torquil’s mobile rang with a loud shriek that jolted the entire restaurant.
‘Torquil here,’ he answered briskly. ‘Ah, Mrs Cooke, it’s Torquil Jensen. Any news?’
‘Is Federica with you?’ Helena asked, ignoring the usual pleasantries.
‘I’ll pass you over.’
‘Fede, sweetie, I’m afraid we still don’t know for sure. There are thirty-two dead. Toby and Julian aren’t among those, but they’re not among the survivors either. They still don’t know. They’re still looking. We’re all trying so hard to be
strong. Arthur’s been wonderful. He’s taken over completely. I didn’t think he had it in him.’
‘Oh Mama, I’m praying so hard,’ she whispered.
‘So am I. We all are.’
‘I never said goodbye,’ she choked, casting her eyes into the quiet street. Suddenly she saw Toby and Julian strolling happily up the pavement. Toby was eating a chocolate bar. She paused in astonishment, blinking furiously in case she was mistaken.
‘I know, sweetie, neither did I,’ Helena said with a sniff. Then after a moment, when Federica failed to respond she added, ‘Fede, are you all right?’
‘Mama, they’re here!’ she exclaimed in amazement.
Torquil turned around and looked out of the window.
‘Who is?’
‘Uncle Toby and Julian!’
‘What?’
‘They’re walking towards me up the road.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes!’ she replied, getting up and running out through the door. ‘Toby!
Julian!’ she shouted.
Toby smiled jovially as his niece ran towards him. She threw herself into his arms. ‘You’re alive,’ she laughed. They’re alive!’ she shouted into the telephone where Helena was anxiously hanging on at the other end.
‘Pass me over now!’ she ordered crossly. ‘They’re alive!’ she added, looking at her parents, Arthur and Hal in confusion.
‘Helena,’ said Toby, grinning into the speaker.
‘What the hell happened to you?’ she demanded.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The train crash.’
Toby frowned. ‘What train crash?’ he asked, perplexed.
‘For God’s sake!’ she gasped. ‘Don’t tell me you weren’t even on it?’
‘We took an early train, because Julian had a morning appointment in Soho.’
‘I don’t believe it!’ she exclaimed. ‘We thought you were dead. You worried us sick.’
‘Christ, I’m sorry.’
‘You bloody well better be!’ she said in fury. ‘God, Toby, we thought you were both dead. We’ve been out of our minds with worry. I’d even planned the
speech I was going to give at the funeral. Goddamn it! I love you!’ she whimpered before disintegrating into tears.
Jake took the telephone from her. ‘Toby.’
‘Dad.’ There was a brief pause while Jake searched for the words that only a moment ago had balanced impatiently on the end of his tongue.
Toby glanced at Julian in bafflement.
Finally, Jake settled for something less meaningful. ‘Come home soon, son, both of you,’ he said stiffly. He wanted to say more, but he couldn’t do it over the telephone.
Toby’s forehead creased in bewilderment. ‘Are you all right, Dad?’ he asked.
‘You’re alive. You’re both alive. I’ve never felt better in all my life,’ he announced triumphantly and Toby recognized his father’s old familiar voice, the voice that had resounded with affection before prejudice had throttled it.
Toby was passed to his mother, then Arthur and finally Hal. When he hung up he shook his head in astonishment.
‘You’d better come and join us for lunch,’ said Torquil, extending his hand. ‘I’m Torquil Jensen. You don’t know how much of a pleasure it is to meet you both.’
When Toby and Julian returned to Polperro they received a welcome neither felt they deserved. Most of the town joined Toby’s family and the Applebys on the platform and all clapped heartily when they stepped down from the train. Even Inigo had come out in his shabby cashmere coat and felt hat to show his delight that they had arrived home safely. Polly watched with pride as Jake embraced them both, patting them heartily on the back because his throat was too choked with emotion to speak. Toby’s vision misted as he hugged his father, a hug that destroyed the invisible wall that had grown up between them. Their eyes silently communicated all that they felt and their tears demonstrated the love that both considered inappropriate to express verbally. Helena watched happily as her family were finally reunited again, but she couldn’t help but wonder how their meeting went with Federica and whether they had managed to stall her marriage plans.
As Toby made his way through the crowd of well-wishers to the exit he was surprised to see Joanna Black, the girl he had once kissed at school, standing awkwardly by the door. She smiled at him. He smiled back, puzzled. ‘Hello, Joanna,’ he said.
‘Hello, Toby,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t think you’d remember me.’
‘Oh, I do.' he said and chuckled amicably.
‘I just wanted to apologize for cutting you dead that time in the grocery shop.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, that’s fine. It was a long time ago.’ He shrugged, watching her shuffle uneasily.
‘I know, but it wasn’t kind.’
‘.' wasn’t kind. That was a long time ago too.’
She lowered her eyes and curled a strand of her mousy brown hair behind her ear. ‘Well, that’s just it,’ she said quietly. ‘When you kissed me all those years ago .. .’
‘Yes?’
‘And I ran off in tears.’
‘Yes.’
‘I was hurt not because you kissed me. I wanted you to,’ she said shyly and laughed with embarrassment. ‘I was hurt because of the look of disgust on your face as you did it.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders again.
‘No, don’t be, really,’ she replied hesitantly. ‘I understand now. You didn’t
like girls, I didn’t know it at the time.’
‘Why tell me now?’ he asked.
‘I thought you were dead,’ she replied, simply.
‘Oh.’
‘I’ve been meaning to tell you for years, but I had never plucked up the courage.’
‘Thank you,’ he muttered, watching her slide through the door. He followed her out.
‘Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I’ve said it now.’ She laughed nervously, shuffling her feet in the cold. Then she embraced him. Toby stood rigidly as she sighed heavily. She had never got over that first girlish crush, or the hurried kiss in the playground. ‘See you around,’ she added before hurrying off.
Toby watched her go and shook his head. ‘You know, death does the strangest things to people,’ he said to Julian.
Julian grinned. ‘People should die more often,’ he mused. ‘It brings out the best in everyone.’
Death cert
ainly did bring the best out in everyone. Without realizing it each
member of Toby’s family had changed.
Jake had confronted his jealousy and won. Polly’s admiration for her husband had swelled thus uniting them where before his prejudice had divided them. Helena realized more than ever before the value of life and thanked God for Arthur who inflated with joy as she began to hold his hand under the table and smile at him with intimacy, the way she had when they first met. Hal emerged out of himself and began to notice those around him, albeit temporarily.
When Helena finally managed to ask Toby how his meeting had gone with Federica, she realized that it didn’t matter if they married. After all, marriage wasn’t life threatening.
‘I was surprised at how charming he was,’ Toby said, tucking into Polly’s mushroom risotto. ‘He’s much older than her, very handsome, clever.’
‘Very much the father figure, I think you’ll find,’ Julian added. ‘He couldn’t have been nicer.’
‘Will he be kind to her?’ Polly asked, as Jake filled her glass with wine.
‘She’s young,’ said Jake, ‘but she’s no fool, Polly.’
‘Oh, she knows what she wants, Dad,’ Toby reassured him. ‘There’s no
denying that. Anyhow, she’s not “little Fede” any more. She’s a woman. She’s grown up in quite a hurry since she met Torquil. She won’t budge on this one, I can tell you.’
‘She is vulnerable though, especially with a much older man who can manipulate her,' Arthur interjected.
‘Yes, she is vulnerable,’ Helena agreed. ‘She’s impressionable and this is her first love, she should probably play the field a bit.’
‘Fede’s not up to playing the field,’ Hal chuckled, squirting tomato ketchup onto his risotto.
‘Well, within reason,’ Jake argued.
‘Helena’s not suggesting she sleep around, Dad, just grow up a bit, gain a little more experience, meet other people. I agree with her. It is a worry her marrying the first man she falls in love with, however charming he may be. After all, marriage is for life,’ Toby said.
The Butterfly Box Page 40