The Sapphire Widow

by Dinah Jefferies

  She laughed a hard, sharp laugh. “This is all nonsense. Are you insane? Completely mad?”

  “I wish there—”

  “Stop right there, Leo.” Her voice had come out thin and rasping. She swallowed hard, horrified by her own display of raw emotion. She longed to curse at him, shout, scream that this was wrong. All wrong. Elliot would never have betrayed her.

  “I can’t think what possessed you to tell me this,” she said in a tight voice. “Now please leave.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly. If there’s anything I can do?”

  “Go. Just go!”

  He turned on his heels and within moments he was gone.

  She collapsed back onto the bench, staring after him, the dogs whimpering at her feet. She wrestled with what she had heard. Sucking in her breath, she fought the urge to weep. She picked up Zip and hugged him to her, breathing in his damp doggy smell and feeling hollowed out, as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. At first, she tried to deny what he had told her. It couldn’t be true. And yet Leo would have no reason to lie, would he? Was this somehow tied up with the shares? She bent forward and cradled her head in her hands. Then she sat up straight again and clenched her hands into fists. The feeling of wanting to lash out intensified, the pain and anger too overpowering to bear. How could he possibly have lied to her all these years? They had been married for twelve years but he had a seven-year-old son. No. She let the words sink in until they echoed so loudly she clapped her hands over her ears. A son. A son. No. It couldn’t be true. How was it possible she had never suspected a thing? Had she been fooling herself all this time? Had the love between them never been real? The questions crashed around in her head but there were no answers. There never would be.

  By the time Margo returned, Louisa was sobbing. She hadn’t moved from the bench and, though she was aware of feeling terribly hot, it was as if she’d lost the ability to stand and walk away. Tommy and Bouncer had wandered off in search of shade, though not before whining their own anxiety over her distress. Zip remained on her lap although he was now fidgeting.

  Margo slid on to the bench beside her and put an arm around Louisa’s shaking body, waiting for the sobs to subside before she spoke. When Louisa was a little calmer, Margo took hold of her hand and gently nudged Zip away.

  “Darling, it’s best if we go inside now. You’re overheating. I’ll take you to the upstairs sitting room and get some mango juice sent up, then you can tell me all about it.”

  * * *

  —

  For the following few days Louisa felt bereft, as if the news of the child had reached into the heart of her and knocked her soul out. Everything, her life, her marriage, her hopes for the future, had come crashing to the ground. Deeply shocked, she dug her fingernails into the fleshy part of her palm to ward off the sickness she felt. She wanted to think of something else, but Zinnia and her child took over every waking thought. She lay on the bed with a pillow over her head as if to shield herself from the truth. Margo came to sit with her but didn’t ask questions. Louisa was grateful. She wasn’t ready to say the dreadful words aloud. Sometimes she saw Margo’s worried look but had no strength to lessen her sister-in-law’s concern.

  Then one afternoon, she squinted up at Margo and shared what Leo had said. She watched the shock of it register on the younger woman’s face, saw the way her hand flew to her mouth, saw her lips begin to tremble and her eyes widen in disbelief. Louisa then started crying. She made a horrible gasping sound as the pain poured out. Margo wept too and the women held each other.

  Eventually Margo pulled away. “Dear God. I can’t believe it. You’re sure it’s true?”

  Louisa took a shuddering breath. “Why would Leo lie about it?”

  “I just can’t believe it of Elliot.”

  “I know. I’ve been over and over it in my head.”

  Margo doubled over and Louisa wrapped an arm around her.

  They stayed like that for several minutes, but after a while Margo straightened up and wiped her damp cheeks. “Sorry. It’s the shock. I can’t take it in. I just can’t believe my brother would do such a thing.”

  “I feel the same.”

  “What are you going to do about the money Elliot left Leo? Presumably it was for this woman and her child?”

  Louisa nodded. “I shall go to the bank, withdraw the money and send someone to Cinnamon Hills to give it to him. It isn’t much, but he can give it to Zinnia. What else can I do?”

  Margo shook her head. “I wish Elliot were here. He’d straighten all this out.”

  “You really believe that?”

  Margo shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “So, what’s next?” Margo eventually said. “You’re very flushed. Do you feel able to take a bath and get dressed? You haven’t eaten a thing for days and your father has called twice too. I haven’t known what to say to him. Do you think you might eat some toast?”

  Louisa nodded and felt a burst of energy. “If I’m not going to fade away I shall have to face the world sooner or later.”

  “There’s no need for anyone to know.”

  “I’m sure there are people who do know. I don’t see how he could have kept this completely secret for so long. Do you think people have been pitying me, when all along I was congratulating myself on having a wonderful marriage?”

  “Nobody has ever breathed a word. I don’t think anyone here knows.”

  “I feel like such an utter fool.”

  “I’d be bloody furious if I was you. In fact, I am bloody furious with my brother!”

  “And all the time I was losing his babies he already had a child. It hurts, Margo. It really hurts.”

  Louisa tried to convince herself it had all been lies. She didn’t know what Leo stood to gain by it but she simply could not accept Elliot had been unfaithful all that time. He had loved her as much as she had loved him, so how could this be true? Drenched in sweat, she cycled around the streets of Galle, knowing if she was less than her usually friendly self, people would put it down to delayed grief over Elliot’s death. Everything else was a fabrication she could not allow to destroy her. And yet, while she still refused to completely believe Leo, the doubt growled and clawed at her, especially at night. When it did she slipped out of bed and read a book, or pored over her plans for the emporium, then stared into the loneliness of the nighttime silence pressing up against her window. Mainly she plowed on through by burying herself in examining samples of the kinds of goods the emporium would sell, and pushing everything else to the back of her mind. But how she wished for a return to ordinary normal life!

  One morning, after a slightly better night, she made her way to the Print House with Margo. They were due to meet the locksmith she had finally hired. Margo tried talking to her about the child, but Louisa refused to engage. If she paid no attention to it, the whole business with Leo would go away. That was how she was dealing with it. Margo didn’t press her.

  On their way, they planned to call on a jeweler who might be keen to sell his goods in the emporium. Still too soon for the monsoon, it was another sweltering day, though the sea was looking a bit choppier than usual. Accustomed to the way the weather affected the sea, Louisa gazed out at it in silence. They hailed two wooden rickshaws for the ease of it and when they reached the jeweler’s, Louisa waved at a peddler she knew who passed them balancing vast bunches of king coconuts on his bicycle. Apart from the bars at the windows and the tall wooden doors painted yellow, the jeweler’s looked like a normal house. Inside it was anything but.

  The women walked through the solidly beamed entrance hall and rang a large rope bell. A young man appeared through an imposing arched doorway and led them through to a second room with a tall, airy ceiling. In there, two old Dutch chests were kept locked, and several glass-fronted antique cabin
ets housed the other treasures. Louisa nodded at the assistant and asked to see the owner, a man distantly related to the famous Macan Markar family of jewelers. They waited for a few minutes while admiring the embellished mirrors on the wall, and then an elderly man with a slight stoop came down a wide staircase.

  “Mrs. Reeve,” he said. “This is a pleasure indeed. Will you take mint tea with me in the roof garden?”

  Louisa glanced at Margo, who nodded, and they followed the man up the stairs to a roof garden shaded by vines growing over a wire pergola.

  “How lovely,” Louisa said as she gazed at the tops of coconut palms in the streets surrounding the garden and, beyond them, to the view of the deep blue sea.

  He indicated chairs where they were to sit and the women made themselves comfortable. The garden was mainly lawn, unusually for a roof terrace, and bright red flowers peppered its borders. Decorated urns held yet more flowers, and the whole effect was astonishingly bright and airy. Below them they saw women hanging out washing on the red-tiled roof tops, and there was a good view of the Dutch Reformed church and the hill of Rumassala.

  After the tea had been served, Louisa explained her idea for the emporium and asked if he’d be interested in being part of it.

  He listened carefully and there was a momentary silence while he was clearly thinking over her proposition. In the end, he sighed deeply before speaking. “I do not think I have the means to open a second shop here. Things have been, well, shall we say, a little tricky. But I have a cousin, also a jeweler you understand, who works in Colombo. I know he is looking to expand his sapphire collection. Why not allow me to approach him on your behalf?”

  “Thank you,” she said, rising from her seat. “That would be a great help. But now, we’d better get on. I’m meeting a locksmith in ten minutes.”

  He led them downstairs.

  As they reached the bottom, the assistant was in the middle of showing another man through to the back room. Louisa was surprised to see it was Mr. De Vos, who was now gazing at her with a broad smile on his face. The owner took a step to the side and while he exchanged a few hurried words with his assistant, De Vos spoke to Louisa.

  “Mrs. Reeve. How lovely to see you. I was hoping to pay you a call later this morning. Maybe we could have a few words outside.”

  “Of course.”

  They stepped through the front door and she smiled at him. “So?”

  “Well, it is a little bit tricky. As you know, your husband and I had joined forces in a business deal.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, the awkward thing is, he gave me a post-dated check to cover his share of the transaction—but unfortunately, when I presented it at the bank, the check bounced.”

  “I see.”

  “I know your husband was an honorable man so I wondered if, or rather when, you might be able to make good on the debt.”

  She steadied herself before she replied. “You have a contract for the transaction?”

  He smiled again. “Indeed.”

  “And how much did my husband owe you?”

  He scribbled an amount on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

  She tried to conceal her shock when she saw how much it was. “Let me see the contract and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and gave her a little bow before twisting around to walk back into the jeweler’s.

  As she turned to leave, she felt her heart beating against her ribs. More debts!

  “Well,” Margo said as they walked away. “What was that about?”

  Louisa swallowed hard. “Apparently Elliot owed money for some business transaction. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Owed it to that man?”

  “Honestly, Margo, it’s a small fortune, would certainly buy you a house or two…Oh God, you don’t think he borrowed the money for the down payment on the Print House as well? He told me he’d used profits from his spice business.”

  Margo shook her head. “He wouldn’t, would he? Have you spoken to your father?”

  “Not yet. I think I can handle it.”

  “If I were you I’d tell him. You don’t want to deal with everything alone.”

  As they walked on some low-lying clouds scudded across the horizon and for a moment it looked like rain. When they reached the Print House, Louisa drew out the bunch of keys and unlocked the large front doors. Inside it smelled a little musty and she sniffed the air. “I need to get the cupola cleaned so we can allow light to stream in, but let’s open some of these windows for now. At least it will smell fresher.”

  “Who’s your builder going to be?”

  “Himal maybe, but I need to finish the plans first.”

  After they had opened the plantation shutters and then the windows she showed Margo around the ground floor of the building. Then they climbed a metal stairway that led to the gallery circling the hall, where they noticed a spotted house lizard scamper up the wall and then lie still.

  “Now that one has come in, we can’t leave until he has either gone back out, or at least hidden himself from us.”

  “You believe the old wives’ tale?”

  Louisa laughed. “I just enjoy the idea. Do you like it up here?”

  “Very much,” Margo said.

  Louisa grinned. “I thought maybe we’d display paintings here. Once the light comes in, they’ll look gorgeous, and people can walk around viewing them while also gazing down at the stands below.”

  “You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?”

  “I had—until I heard about this new debt Elliot has left me with.” She shook her head. “The unpleasant surprises keep coming, don’t they?”

  “It’ll be all right.”

  “Will it? I’m not sure how. Whenever I think about Zinnia and the child I just feel sick.”

  As they were talking someone entered below and Louisa, glancing over the rail of the gallery, saw a small, wiry man eyeing the place and carrying a satchel.

  “Ah, it’s the locksmith.”

  Louisa went down, leaving Margo on the gallery.

  “Mr. Hassid,” she said and held out her hand. “Thank you so much for coming. The door is just through here.”

  She led him through one of the side rooms to the locked door. “Shall I leave you to work on it?”

  He nodded and she went back into the hall. “Margo,” she called. “Come down and look at these old printing presses. I was thinking about having one cleaned up and keeping it as a centerpiece.”

  Margo came down the stairs and ran a palm over one of the presses, which was partly attached to the beam above by chains. “It will take up a bit of room. Maybe the smaller one?”

  “You’re right.”

  At that moment there was a loud thump. “I think he may have gotten in.”

  They both went through to the previously locked room.

  The man glanced up. “I’m afraid I had to remove the entire locking mechanism. I can install a new lock if you like, though I don’t have the right kind with me.”

  “No need. I don’t know what I’ll be doing with the room yet. Now, how much do I owe you?”

  After Louisa had paid, and the man had left, the women entered the room. A desk and a swivel chair were the only furniture. “This must have been the office. Let’s see what’s in the drawers.”

  She pulled open the top drawer. Empty. Then the second drawer, which contained just a few sheets of yellowing paper. And when she opened the third drawer she found it empty too.

  “There’s nothing in here,” Louisa said.

  “I wonder why on earth the room was locked then?”

  After cleaning up the Print House a little, Louisa settled on having a bath and changing for supper, while Margo went to dive off Flag Rock and go for a swim.

  Louisa�
��s bathroom was tiled in blue and white with a window overlooking the garden which she now opened. She took out a clean white towel from the airing cupboard, ran a bath, lit a few scented candles and then, as the warm water slid over her, and she rinsed the dust and dirt away, she listened to the chorus of birds in the trees. She craned her neck to look out of the window and saw a burst of parakeets fly from one tree to another, but then she sank back into the bath. Apart from the birds, there was no other sound and the peace soothed Louisa.

  But, after a moment, completely unbidden thoughts of Elliot invaded her mind. That’s how it often happened now. She’d be busily doing some sewing, or some pruning outside, and would suddenly have to fight the rising panic when she heard his voice as clearly as if he had been standing beside her. She had not told her father of Leo’s claims about Zinnia and Conor. Telling him would make it seem too real. But, while she did her best not to dwell on it, how could she avoid considering whether Leo had been telling the truth or not? And, if it was true, how had Elliot managed to keep the child secret for all this time? This thought made it hard to breathe and as she struggled for air, the heat made her eyelids prickle. She stuffed her knuckles into her eyes to stop the tears from surfacing.

  Once she’d climbed out of the bath and had dried herself, she slipped into a dress with a nipped-in waist and a very nearly ankle-length skirt. It had light shoulder pads and a floral pattern, another of her dresses made up by the Colombo tailor. She kept her curls under control, pinning her hair up at the back and keeping the fashionable close-to-the-head look. Despite her tan, she still retained a natural-looking complexion which she highlighted with the use of a rouge in light pink. She usually didn’t bother, but something told her tonight was important, even though it would just be Margo and her father for supper.

  A little later as she went down the stairs, she was surprised by a knock at the front door. It was too late for a casual visitor so she couldn’t imagine who it might be but, opening the door herself, she was taken aback to see Jeremy Pike, the man Elliot used to sail with and whose car he had crashed, standing on the doorstep.