The Sapphire Widow

by Dinah Jefferies

  It was Elliot who had given structure to her life, Elliot who had given it meaning. She still imagined his sleeping body lying beside her, and when she opened her eyes in the morning and her gaze settled on his empty side of the bed, there was always a painful shiver of shock that he was gone. Since his death there had been times when Louisa simply forgot to breathe and she would find herself suddenly gasping for air. Breathe, she would command herself, breathe. But that didn’t help and she’d double over after a few minutes clutching her tight chest and sucking at air, as if sucking at life itself. Even if he had lied about the shares, surely there must have been a sound reason.

  As her thoughts spiralled, she longed to be with someone who had gone through a loss and come out the other side. While her father was comforting to be around, and she knew he understood, he rarely spoke of Louisa’s mother’s death. What she needed was another woman who had felt the same rising panic, the same sleepless nights, the same painful disconnection. Louisa didn’t know what she wanted to say exactly—just that she wanted the relief of being able to talk. Gwen had not lost her husband, but she had lost a child. One was neither worse nor better than the other. They were different, but Gwen seemed like the one person who might genuinely understand that she felt as if the large stone lodged in her chest would remain there and that her heart would never open again. At that point she called her friend to see if the invitation to visit the tea plantation still stood. Gwen assured her it did and so a few days later Louisa began the long drive to the hilly tea country.

  She hadn’t driven so far before on her own, and despite Gwen’s detailed directions was still a touch unsure of the route, but right now anything was better than staying at home. After leaving Galle she drove through the rainforest and noticed how heavily the area was being logged. Then she passed alongside the Gin Ganga River where gaggles of barely dressed children played at rolling stones in front of a large police station, but when she reached the crossing point, she hesitated. The narrow bridge over the river was supported by concrete pillars, but at its sides had only some flimsy-looking steel railings.

  When her hands began to tremble she stopped the car and got out. She gazed down into the rushing river and then looked up at air shimmering with flying creatures and, hearing the noises of animals in the undergrowth, she took deep breaths. Birds were screeching overhead and apart from several pariah dogs which lay dozily at the edges of the road, the whole place was teeming with life. Yet when she thought of driving again, fear whipped through her, and she prayed for the courage to continue the journey.

  As she negotiated the bridge she gripped the steering wheel, but all went well and she drove on, bypassing several rubber estates, to the point where she turned off on to a more minor road, just past a temple. Glancing out, she saw a group of yellow-robed monks sitting on a step, one of them smoking some kind of pipe. A little later, she turned off again and eventually, after crossing a second river, started climbing through a densely forested region. There the road wound up a mountain pass. Though Gwen had warned her the drive was grueling and would take the better part of a day, she had to admit to a feeling of excitement, despite the tiredness and hunger. It was all so new and she found, to her surprise, she was enjoying it. She pulled up just after another temple, which had to be about the halfway point, and decided to take a break and eat the sandwiches Camille had prepared for her.

  While she ate, a group of purple-faced monkeys eyed her silently, and as the enormity of what she was doing fizzed through her, she laughed. If only Elliot could see her now.

  When she had finished she drove on, climbing the many hills on the way to Hatton. Once she had taken another turning, she eventually arrived at the top of the hill overlooking the Hooper tea plantation, and the view took her breath away. A row of tulip trees lined the driveway below her, and she could see the plantation house was built in an L shape. She stopped the car to get out and gaze down at the shimmering lake. The place was truly gorgeous and she felt a slight stirring of hope. Perhaps this really was the right place to be?

  At the bottom of the drive she parked and as she got out of the car Gwen came running out of the house in an instant, ringlets flying in every direction.

  “Louisa, I am so happy you made it. Was the drive absolutely awful? You must be exhausted.”

  Louisa shook her head. “I was surprised. I didn’t get lost at all.”

  “Well, leave your case. One of the houseboys will bring it in. Let me take you through to the veranda at the back. We’ll have a long cool drink brought out.”

  They walked into the house and out again through some elegant French windows. And, blinking in the brightness, Louisa remarked at the buzzing and chirping filling the air.

  “It really feels wildly alive out here.”

  “It always does, especially in the morning, or late in the day like now.”

  Their drinks arrived and Louisa was grateful for the cool feel of the glass beneath her hands.

  “You’ll want a rest and maybe to freshen up, but I thought we could have a quiet chat for a few minutes.”

  Louisa gazed down at flower-filled gardens sloping down to the lake in three terraces, with paths, steps and benches placed between them, and the lake itself was the most gorgeous turquoise color.

  “So,” Gwen was saying. “How are you coping? I am so terribly sorry for what has happened. You must be devastated.”

  “It’s not easy. And, although my father is good to have around, my sister-in-law has gone back to her parents’ in Colombo. And nobody else really knows what to say to me.”

  “It was similar after Liyoni died. Everyone tiptoed around me until I felt like screaming.”

  “How did you cope?”

  “In some ways, it’s hard to remember the early days. I felt as if my world had come to an end, but then it became a case of putting one foot in front of the other and doing whatever there was to do next. It wasn’t long ago but it has become easier.”

  “I’m scared I’ll never feel normal again.”

  “Well, you won’t feel the way you did before. It will have changed you. It’s more a case of working out who you are now and getting used to that.”

  “I find myself crying at impossible moments.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  “Do you still?”

  Gwen nodded. “And I still feel such anger.”

  Louisa nodded. “It ambushes me when I least expect it and is so strong I can literally shake.”

  “I felt my world had ended, and it had. I didn’t feel alive: I felt broken. Truly. Broken.”

  “Thank you for being so honest,” Louisa said. “I’m so glad I came.”

  “I hope it will help. At the very least it will pass a few days. If you can just keep going, keep living, keep caring, you will find your heart does ease.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments.

  “I’m afraid we have a visitor for supper tonight. I had hoped it would just be the three of us, but Savi Ravasinghe has arrived to see Laurence on a plantation matter on behalf of his wife, my cousin Fran. She is a shareholder, you see, but you’ll like Savi. He’s an artist and very kind. Can you tolerate that?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Because you could have a tray in your room, if you prefer?”

  “No. It will do me good. I’ve been so little in company since Elliot died.”

  “Well, Savi is a lovely man. You can talk to him about anything. Come on, let me show you your room.”

  They went indoors and up a sweeping staircase, and then along a corridor to the very end. Gwen flung open the door to a room with windows in both exterior walls. “I love this room because it’s so airy. Will it do? The bathroom is next door. Dinner is at eight.”

  Louisa looked around her. “Thank you. It’s absolutely lovely.”

  After Gwen had left, Louisa went
to the window overlooking the gardens and part of the lake and leaned out to breathe the air. Rising up around the lake luminous tea bushes grew in symmetrical rows, and the women tea-pickers wore brightly colored saris. A riot of pink, green, purple and blue. There was such a feeling of calm about it all, Louisa relaxed. It was a magical place, and she already felt as if the weight in her chest had lightened—for a few minutes she had actually forgotten Elliot.

  It didn’t last. As she lay on the bed to rest she felt torn between grief at his loss and being burdened by his lies. The worst thing was the fear that after twelve years she didn’t know who Elliot had really been. What if the love at the heart of her marriage had not been the love she had imagined?

  She listened to the sounds of the birds and saw the sky darken. It was time to dress for dinner and put on a mask of cheerfulness. Gwen wouldn’t expect it, but something within Louisa meant she knew it was what she would, nevertheless, do. She decided on a navy dress, nipped in at the waist and with a wide belt, and after she had brushed her blond curls she felt a little better.

  As she entered the drawing room for drinks before supper she saw a bank of tall windows running across an entire wall. Their shutters had been left half open so she could glimpse the moon lighting the garden beyond. This room fronted the shining, silvery lake. The walls were painted in a soft blue-green and the whole place felt cool, with comfy-looking armchairs, and two pale sofas piled high with embroidered cushions depicting birds, elephants and exotic flowers. A leopard skin was draped across the back of one of the sofas.

  “Come and sit down with Savi,” Gwen said as she stood to greet Louisa.

  An elegant Sinhalese man rose at the same time. He had longish hair, a slightly hooked nose and smiling caramel eyes with heavy brows. He held out his hand. “You must be Louisa. I’m Savi Ravasinghe.”

  “Lovely to meet you,” she said as she shook his hand.

  “Will you sit?” he said.

  “Yes, sit with Savi,” Gwen said. “I need to check that Ayah is with the baby. Laurence will be down in a minute. Are you happy with Sinhalese food, Louisa?”

  “Oh, perfectly. Thank you.”

  “So,” Savi said as they seated themselves. “Tell me about you.”

  She took a quick breath. It was awkward meeting new people. “I don’t know what you already know.”

  “I know you have only recently lost your husband. I’m so sorry. Do you mind me mentioning it?”

  “Actually, I prefer it.”

  He smiled. “That I understand. You know Gwen’s little girl died?”

  “I do. I think that’s why she invited me here.”

  “And she is a very sympathetic woman. My wife thinks the world of her.”

  “Where is your wife?”

  “She has business interests in England and we live most of the year there, but I like to come back home from time to time and spend a few months here. I have an apartment in Colombo in Cinnamon Gardens. My wife, Fran, often comes too, but this time she didn’t.”

  It was unusual nowadays in Ceylon to come across a mixed marriage, but Louisa knew it had once been perfectly normal at a time when Englishmen had been in short supply.

  “Have you faced many difficulties?” she asked. “You and your wife, I mean.”

  “More so in England, to be honest.” He smiled. “But most people here tolerate us.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You live in Galle, I hear.”

  “I was born there and wouldn’t swap it for the world, though it’s lovely here, of course. And recently I had cause to go to a cinnamon plantation. I couldn’t help falling in love with it.”

  “I knew someone who went to live on a cinnamon plantation not too far from Galle, or at least that was the rumor. She was a well-known artist in Colombo and then she simply upped and disappeared. I’m just trying to recall her name.”

  “Oh?”

  He frowned. “It was an unusual name but I just can’t remember it.”

  Louisa felt surprised. “Did she have red hair?”

  “Yes! You don’t know her, do you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know her, but I think I may have met her just the once and then only very briefly.”

  “Small world.”

  “Do you know why she left Colombo?”

  “I don’t think anybody really knew. I’ve spotted some of her apparently new canvases for sale from time to time so she must still be painting.”

  “But nobody ever sees her?”

  “No. Ah look, here is Laurence.”

  Louisa nodded, and watched Gwen’s tall husband approach. He was broad-backed with short light-brown hair flecked with gray at the temples, and he wore a wide smile on his face. She thought of the last time she’d seen him, at their Christmas party, when everything had seemed all set to be wonderful. And suddenly it was as if a cold wind swept through her heart. How swiftly life could change. How drastically it could all be gone.

  When Louisa woke the next morning, soon after dawn, she rose immediately and enjoyed gazing out of the window at the still lake. A pearly mist lay over the water and the air felt fresh and pure. It will be a good day, she told herself. It will be a good day. Gwen’s son Hugh was due back from school in Nuwara Eliya and they were all set to have a picnic beside the lake, although Mr. Ravasinghe was leaving first thing. Before going down to breakfast, she washed and dressed in a pale green muslin dress with short sleeves, and then tied up her hair.

  Laurence was wearing shorts and already standing at the breakfast table with a plate in his hand when Louisa entered the dining room.

  “Morning. Would you like to join me on the veranda?” he said.

  She glanced across to where he was pointing at the wide-open French windows.

  “Breakfast always tastes better outdoors,” he added. “Don’t you think?”

  She smiled and looked down at the table where a serving dish had been topped with a rounded silver cover.

  “Kedgeree,” he said. “If you want anything else cooked, just ring the bell. Cook makes a pretty good fist of poached eggs. Tea and coffee will be brought out along with the toast. I’ll see you out there.”

  She spotted a bowl of buffalo-milk curd protected by a square of netting, and baskets of fruit: mangoes, passion fruit, apples and bananas. She helped herself to a bowl of the curd and then drizzled honey over it.

  By the time she sat down at the wrought-iron table outside, the mist had burned away. It was turning into a brilliant day, with the sun glittering on the lake and a light breeze to cool the skin. She watched a cloud of brightly colored butterflies floating just above the white lilies growing in earthen pots all along the edge of the veranda.

  “I hope you slept well,” Laurence said with a smile.

  “Very well.”

  “It’s our hill country air.”

  She nodded and met his eyes. “I suppose it must be. I’m glad to be here. It was kind of Gwen to invite me.”

  “My condolences about Elliot. We didn’t have a chance to speak alone last night.”

  “No.”

  He paused before speaking again and she noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch. “You may know that my first wife died,” he eventually said.

  “Savi Ravasinghe told me. I was sorry to hear it.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  She wondered what had happened and deliberated about asking him. Would it be insensitive? But with Elliot’s death still uppermost in her mind she felt she had to ask.

  “Do you mind telling me what happened?”

  He sighed. “She took her own life.”

  Louisa gasped. “Oh gosh. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “As I said, it was a long time ago.” He paused again. “Anyway, enough of dwelling on the past. The present is what matters to
day. And this picnic will be delightful. I’m sure it will do you good.”

  “I already feel better just being away from home.”

  “Being in a different environment can take one out of oneself. Even if it is only temporary.”

  A couple of hours later, when Hugh was due to arrive home, Gwen and Louisa were in the large sitting room with baby Alice. Gwen asked Louisa if she was happy to hold the baby while she went to settle a few final details of the picnic. At first Louisa felt nervous at the thought but then, as Alice fell asleep in her arms, she watched the fluttering eyelashes and softly stroked the child’s rosy cheeks with her fingertips. She bent over to smell the baby’s hair and when a feeling of peace washed through her, she felt a sense of gratitude toward Gwen. Holding Alice had silenced the noise in her head. Coming here had been the right thing to do.

  A few moments later a tousled-haired boy tore into the room followed by Gwen.

  “Say hello to Mrs. Reeve, Hugh.”

  “Hello Hugh,” Louisa said. “Do call me Louisa. Just back from school?”

  He nodded.

  “And how old are you now?”

  He beamed at her and spoke proudly. “I’m ten.”

  “That is quite an age. And are you looking forward to the picnic?”

  “You bet! Can I see Alice?”

  “Of course.”

  He came across and knelt at her feet. “She’s very little, isn’t she?”

  “Do you want to hold her?”

  He got to his feet. “No. Mummy says I’ve got to change now.” He grinned at her. “Will you come swimming with me?”

  “Oh, I didn’t bring a costume.”

  “I’ve got a spare one,” Gwen said.

  Gwen and Louisa remained in the sitting room for another half-hour and then, when Hugh came racing back in, Gwen settled Alice in her Moses basket and called the butler to ask him to carry her down to the lake. After that she collected Laurence from his study and they all made their way down. A couple of houseboys carried the hamper and several bags, along with the rugs. They also extracted three chairs from the boathouse at the edge of the lake. As Laurence, Gwen and Louisa made themselves comfortable on the chairs, they were watched by a pair of long-tailed toque monkeys sitting at the base of a nearby tree.