Empress Bianca

by Lady Colin Campbell

  ‘But I do, my child,’ Bianca retorted. ‘I do.’

  The day after the accident Antonia, Moussey and Manolito flew from Paris by Concorde, arriving in Dallas on the following afternoon. After visiting Julio and seeing for themselves the utter hopelessness of the situation, they boarded the Lear, which Philippe had instructed to fly down to that ill-fated city to meet them and take them back to Mexico City, Bianca having flown in on it the evening before.

  A week later Bianca, Pedro and Dolores returned home with Julio, who was taken by ambulance directly from the airport to the intensive care unit of the Juarez General Hospital. There at the hospital awaiting their arrival were Antonia, Moussey and Manolito. As the family met the doctors and nursing staff now assigned to the case, it was immediately apparent who was calling the shots: Bianca. Within an hour, the siblings departed from the hospital, leaving Bianca there, at her insistence, alone with the second son she had now lost. It came as no surprise to Antonia, Moussey and Nanolito when Pedro announced that he was moving into Julio’s house, partly to comfort Dolores but also to avoid his mother. His family, who had learnt how his mother had arranged for him to be locked up in Dr Melhado’s psychiatric clinic while visiting Julio in Dallas, tacitly supported his decision.

  ‘And now she’s turning her beady eye on Dolores,’ Pedro said, filling them in on the latest developments.

  ‘Your mother has taken over all the medical arrangements,’ their sister in-law said, as they sat drinking long glasses of ice tea in the garden of the house she and Julio had rented, away from the grandeur of the Piedraplata family home. ‘Every idea of mine has been vetoed. “You’re too young to have an opinion. Yesterday she even went so far as to reject my suggestion that Julio should have his favourite picture of Biancita and myself beside his bed. She said it would be insensitive in case he should wake up with memory loss and get upset when he becomes aware that he can’t remember his wife and child. But the neurosurgeon said there’s no chance of him ever waking up or remembering anything, and I don’t see why I can’t honour my own husband and the father of my daughter by showing the world that we exist and care about him. The way she’s acting, you’d think she was the wife, and I was just a passing ship in the night. Surely I have a right as Julio’s wife and the mother of his daughter to have a say in my own husband’s bedside arrangements? Your mother’s taken over, and the only voice that’s allowed to be heard is her own.’

  ‘That’s Mommie Dearest for you,’ Pedro remarked, while neither Antonia nor Manolito said a single word in Bianca’s defence.

  ‘Maybe we should say something to Aunt Bianca,’ suggested Moussey. In truth, he had just gained an insight into his mother-in-law’s conduct that left him decidedly nervous about getting on her bad side. It had formerly been inconceivable to him that any woman could lock away her own son on trumped-up grounds simply to bring him into line. Now that Bianca seemed to be indulging that same streak of wilfulness at the expense of Dolores’ rights as a wife, he felt it was his duty to take his sister-in-law’s side, irrespective of the consequences.

  ‘You say something if you want,’ Pedro said, ‘but it won’t do any good. I’ve learned the hard way how that woman functions. To me, she’s as transparent as glass. She brooks no opposition to the implementation of her wishes, which is why I don’t for one second believe that she really wants Julio to be cared for at L’Alexandrine once he’s out of intensive care. If she’d really wanted that, she’d be getting it, instead of allowing him to return here and remain in hospital here, where you and Biancita can visit him. She just wants you to believe that she’s given way to you on an issue of importance to her and to yourselves, when in fact she was doing no such thing. My experience of Mama is that no one ever gets their own way with her…unless, that is, their way coincides with hers. Believe me, she was just letting you think that she’s sacrificed her way for yours.’

  Despite Pedro’s warning, Moussey did speak to Bianca on Dolores’ behalf when he got back to the Piedraplata family home. Her reply, however, was brief but devastating. ‘It’s out of the question. But even if I had been minded to accommodate that Roman Catholic whore, what Julio told me before I left Mexico week before last would be enough to prevent any mother from polluting her son’s bedside.’

  At a loss for words, Moussey looked embarrassed.

  Antonia came to his rescue. ‘What are you talking about, Mama?’

  ‘Don’t tell me Julio didn’t tell you how he caught Delores in bed with another man and planned to divorce her? That whore only married my darling son for our money,’ Bianca said and started to cry.

  Antonia shot Moussey a look of astonishment. Julio had said nothing to her. For a split second she wondered if maybe her mother were lying but naïvely discounted the possibility on the grounds that such conduct at a moment like this would be beyond even her. Maybe Julio said something to Moussey or to Pedro, she thought. Men sometimes didn’t like discussing sexual matters with their sisters. Especially sexually embarrassing matters.

  ‘Mama, it’s OK,’ she said, giving her mother the benefit of the doubt and rushing to embrace her. ‘Here, let me comfort you.’

  ‘It’s not OK,’ Bianca said between sobs. ‘Julio would never have had that accident if he hadn’t had so much to worry about. Between Pedro and that adventuress Dolores, the poor boy must have been distracted beyond belief. Do you know what his greatest fear was?’

  Antonia shook her head no. Moussey, finding himself in the middle of a maze, looked on, paralysed.

  ‘The impending divorce. He didn’t want to lose Biancita. You know how much he loved her. He was so worried that Dolores would get custody. He said he didn’t want to live a life without his one and only daughter. He also said that he didn’t want her having a mother figure like Dolores. He was terrified that she’d emulate her mother…become like her.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Antonia responded, stunned by this new revelation.

  ‘What’s happened is too awful for words. But you must both promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to either Dolores or Pedro. Since Julio didn’t say anything to you, I don’t want them knowing that I know. That’s very important. If they know that I know, it will split the family apart, and I don’t want that. Do you promise?’

  Antonia nodded soberly.

  Bianca then turned to Moussey to obtain his consent.

  ‘Of course, Aunt Bianca.’

  ‘Do you know if Manolito knows?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s very likely, if I didn’t know,’ Antonia said.

  ‘Then make sure you don’t inform him,’ Bianca said. ‘Aside from anything else, we don’t want him being educated too graphically about such matters at his tender age.’

  Antonio and Moussey nodded in agreement. ‘You see, my darlings,’ she then said, going in for the kill with a degree of calmness that only added to her portrayal of sincerity, ‘the fact is that Julio suspected Dolores of having more than one affair. In fact…I don’t know how to say this…as a mother, I find it almost inconceivable…but Julio believed that Pedro and Dolores have been lovers for some time. That’s why he set the trap when he caught her out with that other man. He was trying to catch her with Pedro.’

  ‘That’s not possible,’ Antonia said, less accusing her mother of lying than dismissing the accusation.

  ‘I’m not saying they are lovers, though you notice how quickly he’s moved out of this house and into hers. It’s what Julio suspected, that’s all I’m saying. And I’ll tell you something even worse. He said he wondered if Biancita was really his. He said the dates from conception to delivery didn’t quite fit. If you remember, he was in Connecticut for three crucial weeks nine months before Biancita was born.’

  ‘Mama, this is too unreal to be true. Biancita is the spitting image of you.’

  ‘That’s what I said when he brought up the question of the baby’s paternity. “Oh, she’s your granddaughter all right,” he said, “of that I have no doub
t. She looks too much like you to be anything else. But I do question whether she’s my daughter or Pedro’s.” Of course no mother wants to hear things like that…’ Bianca purposely let her words trail off to break the pace and give herself time to think.

  ‘How could he have even suspected something like that? Pedro would never betray us,’ Antonia said. ‘Julio ought to have known that.’

  ‘I’d only speak for myself, if I were you. Pedro’s done many things over the years that I’ve kept from you. But he’s your brother, and I don’t want to come between you, so I’ll keep my counsel.’

  Antonia’s mind was spinning. Stranger things had happened, she told herself. Dolores and Pedro were awfully close and always had been. No mother, not even Mama, she concluded, could lie about something like this - not at a time like this. ‘The torment poor Julio must have been going through, to think that Pedro might be Biancita’s father,’ she said.

  ‘You know what your brother was like,’ Bianca continued, knowing that she had won her daughter over ‘He loved Pedro, and he loved Biancita, so whether he was her father or uncle didn’t make that much difference. What did matter, though, was Dolores’ betrayal, and the example that darling little girl would have if she were brought up by her mother. Of course Julio didn’t blame Pedro. He felt Dolores had seduced his brother…the whole situation is too awful for words.’

  ‘Does Grandma know?’

  ‘I hope not, and I don’t want to take the chance of her finding out. The shock will kill her. You know how she loves Pedro and will never hear a word against him. No, I think it’s better we keep this one away from her.’

  An unspoken distance now crept into relations between Antonia and Moussey on one side, and Pedro and Dolores on the other. This breach was further solidified after Julio’s removal from intensive care, which in itself was such a dreadful occurrence for all concerned that it needed no embellishment to qualify as a genuine tragedy, for they had to face the hopelessness of the situation all over again. Julio would never recover. He was as good as dead. Bianca being Bianca, however, she could not resist the opportunity to exploit the situation and undermine her daughter-in-law while furthering her plans for Biancita under the guise of assisting her.

  The family had gathered back at the Piedraplata family home after Julio’s move into the wire-laden, machine-filled room that would hereafter be his world. The air was heavy with grief and shock and disbelief. Bianca and Pedro had even suspended hostilities and refrained from making adverse comments about each other for the first time in years as they circulated in the drawing-room, speaking to loved ones and the many friends who had dropped in to pay their respects and say goodbye to Bianca before her departure for abroad.

  Out of the corner of his eye, however, Pedro saw his mother walk over to Dolores, who was standing speaking to his grandmother, Leila Barnett. Bianca was suddenly all sweetness and light, kissing the unfortunate Dolores and smiling at her while she spoke.

  ‘Darling girl, my heart goes out to you,’ she announced sweetly. ‘I shudder to think what it must be like to be an effective widow at twenty-five. I know we’ve had our differences in the last few days, but I don’t want you to think we as a family are abandoning you now that Judio is no longer consciously with us. You must believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to see that you have as comfortable a life as possible. It’s the least we can do, isn’t it, Mama?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Leila Barnett. ‘You’re family, Dolores, and we never desert our family. Ever.’

  ‘You’re right, Mama,’ Bianca said brightly then continued as if what she was about to say had come as a sudden idea. ‘I want to send you and your sister and mother for a month’s stay at the Botkin Institute in Santa Barbara. It’s the best health farm in the world. They’ll pamper you and treat you kindly and gently help you over this terrible period. The worst is yet to come. I know. I’ve lost a husband and a child before, so I know the grief of loss. Once life returns to a slower rythym after this period of frantic activity stops, the reality of your loss really hits you. That’s true, isn’t it, Mama?’

  ‘It is,’ Leila said quietly, remembering the many months of anguish she spent alone after Bianca’s father had died.

  ‘That’s settled then. Speak to your mother and sister and give me some dates. I’d suggest you leave sometime next week.’

  ‘But what about Biancita?’ Dolores asked.

  ‘Don’t worry about her, darling girl. I’ll take care of her. She can come and stay with us at L’Alexandrine while you’re getting over the worst. Antonia and Moussey will be there with me and, truth be told, it will be nice to get to know my granddaughter a little better.’

  Dolores did not know what to make of the offer. She looked from Bianca to Leila and back, her expression one of perplexity.

  ‘I won’t take “no” for an answer,’ said Bianca, her voice the quintessence of concern. ‘You’re my daughter-in-law, and I need to do what’s best for you. Isn’t that so, Mama? Go on. Tell her. It’s our job to take care of her now that Julio’s not able to do so.’

  ‘It can’t do any harm, child,’ Leila said, smiling. ‘Go on. Take a break. You deserve it after all you’ve been through. If you don’t like the Botkin Institute, you can always leave.’

  ‘Or go anywhere else you and your mother and sister please,’ Bianca interjected brightly. ‘If you miss Biancita, I can always send Antonia over in the Lear with the little treasure, and you can see her.’

  Convinced, Dolores walked right into the trap. ‘OK…fine,’ she said. ‘Thanks. That’s really sweet of you, Madame Mahfud.’

  ‘Think nothing of it, darling girl,’ Bianca replied, smiling sweetly. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

  Twice during her stay at the Botkin Institute, Dolores telephoned her mother-in-law at L’Alexandrine to tell her how much she missed her daughter and to ask that the little girl be sent over to her.

  The first time was at the end of the fourth day of her stay there. ‘Of course I’ll send her over with Antonia to see you for a few days if you’re desperate,’ Bianca responded, ‘but she’s just settled down here, and I fear it will unsettle her if she goes back and forth. Why don’t you wait a few days and see how you’re managing? I know you’re recovering from Julio’s loss, but you must realize that so is she.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Dolores agreed dejectedly. ‘Let me speak to her.’

  ‘If she were here, I’m sure she’d like nothing better, but she’s gone into the village with Antonia and Moussey. She’s taken a real shine to the market,’ Bianca said, smiling affectionately as she played the part of the indulgent grandmother, then looked through the open window at the swimming pool, where Biancita was laughing uproariously as Moussey and Antonia threw her back and forth in the water.

  The second time Dolores called, Bianca, still preached concern. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to undermine your child’s progress in getting over her father’s accident,’ she added this time, ‘just to satisfy your own emotional needs. Being a mother myself, I know how tough it is the first time you’re separated from your child, but it’s our duty as mothers to place our children’s welfare above our own, don’t you think?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Dolores replied wanly.

  ‘I knew you’d see it my way. Julio always said what a wonderful wife and mother you were. In fact, maybe it would be a good idea if we just left things as they are and didn’t run the risk of upsetting her with a telephone conversation. It might be kinder all round if you saved it all till you see her again.’

  ‘Two weeks is a long time…’ Dolores started to say.

  ‘Exactly,’ Bianca cut in. ‘I knew you’d see my point. Two weeks is a long time to a little girl, and since she’s out of her normal environment and hasn’t associated the new one with missing you, it might be too hard on her. You know, darling girl, Julio was right. You really are an exceptionally thoughtful person. Which is all the more reason why you must try to forget ab
out all your troubles and just relax while you can.’

  Meanwhile Antonia and Moussey took care of Biancita at L’Alexandrine. She was an enchanting little girl. With the looks of her grandmother, the disposition of her mother and the personality of her father, she had the adults - Bianca included - falling over themselves to be with her. However, none became more attached to Biancita than Antonia. What added poignancy to the time spent with her niece was that Antonia had suffered two miscarriages in the first two years since her marriage. Sir Egerton Pickering, the eminent gynaecologist, had warned her that she might never be capable of giving birth to a live baby owing to a weak cervix. ‘The only chance you’ll have of carrying a child even close to term is if you were to lie flat on your back from the moment you discover you’re pregnant until you give birth, hopefully eight months later,’ he had said. ‘Well, if Sophia Loren can do it,’ Antonia had replied ‘I don’t see why I can’t.’‘Each case is different,’ Sir Egerton had observed. ‘While you must not lose hope, you must prepare yourself for every eventuality. In obstetrics, nothing is ever quite as straightforward as the public believes.’

  Meanwhile Dolphie and Stella Minckus were having the time of their lives at L’Alexandrine. With the self-discipline which had largely accounted for her worldly success, Bianca made no concession to the appalling grief she was suffering or, as she put it to Stella Minckus when the former beauty queen had offered to cancel the trip: ‘If there’s no way around grief…and there isn’t when you lose your favourite child…you may as well distract yourself and do your level best to give your friends a good time. So come, and we’ll act as if life were still normal.’

  The splendour of L’Alexandrine would have impressed anyone, but what really sprinkled stardust in the eyes of the socially ambitious Mr and Mrs Minckus was the assemblage of Old Money personages Bianca served up with the meals. Unknown to them, the irresistible lure of Belmont’s was casting its magic. Mary van Gayrib, Bianca’s New York PA, had been working the telephone lines behind the scenes, asking all the local and visiting grandees to lunch or dinner or for a day’s cruising, always with the specification that the occasion was ‘in honour of Mr and Mrs P Adolphus Minckus to celebrate their recent acquisition of Belmont’s’.