Margo came back in with a glass of water. “Sorry I took so long.”
“Can you soap yourself,” Louisa said, handing Zinnia a bar of soap and willing herself not to cry.
The woman took the soap and managed fairly well, while Louisa averted her eyes; it was just too intimate. Then she got to her feet and asked Margo to help support Zinnia as she climbed out of the bath.
Zinnia held out a hand to Louisa. Her face clouded over and a stricken look crossed it. “I’m sorry for the harm I caused you.”
Louisa didn’t take her hand but held her gaze and swallowed hard.
Then she and Margo managed to wrap Zinnia in a couple of towels Leo had brought down with the clean bedding.
“We need to get you to the sitting room,” Margo said, taking over, and practical as ever. Louisa gave her a wan smile and, somehow, they supported Zinnia as she stumbled through. Once she was safely on the sofa, Margo removed the towels and covered her with one of the fresh blankets. “Have you a dressing gown?” she asked.
Zinnia pointed at a robe hanging on the bedroom door and collapsed back onto the cushions behind her. Louisa bowed her head as tears blurred her vision, then she slipped outside where she gasped at the air in great emotional gulps, her eyes still stinging. “Oh God,” she whispered to herself, not able to get rid of the image of Elliot with Zinnia so soon after her first miscarriage. She remembered he’d said he had pressing business in Colombo and she’d felt hurt by it, but had tried to understand. Now she knew the pressing business had been another woman.
Margo came out. “You surviving?”
Louisa shook her head and Margo came straight over to hug her. When they drew apart she sighed. “Tough, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“If you want to go up to see Leo I’ll get on with cleaning her room. It’s really just the floor that needs mopping.”
“Conor will be up there.”
“He’s just a child. Maybe it would help if you got to know him a little.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, stay out here for a while and if you do decide to go up, just go. I’ll follow when I’m done, though maybe Leo could come back later to carry her back to her bed.”
“What about the sheets?”
“I’ll put them to soak in the bath.”
“Thanks, Margo. There’s a short cut up to Leo’s through the trees when you’re ready, though it’s probably better if you follow the road.”
After Margo had gone back in, Louisa deliberated for a while but eventually decided to go on up to Leo’s place. By the time she reached his house the rain was just beginning and when there was no reply to her knock at the door she opened it and went in. Upstairs Conor was sitting on the sofa playing with a pack of cards.
“Where’s Leo?” Louisa asked, feeling unnerved by the child’s silence.
He just shrugged.
“I heard you were doing some drawing. Would you like to show me?”
The boy glanced up at her but still said nothing.
“Well, maybe I’ll just sit here and if you feel like showing me you can.”
Although she tried not to stare, her eyes kept returning to the child. He was so like Elliot it was uncanny. She sat for a while, feeling uncomfortable and listening to the rain pounding the ground outside, then she got up to open a window and stare out before returning to wait again.
“Have you had lunch?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Shall I see if we can rustle up a sandwich?”
He glanced up at her again. “Leo will do it.”
She sighed. The child seemed terribly withdrawn.
After about half an hour Leo turned up and she saw his surprise as he took in the fact that she was sitting there with Conor.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “It was getting a bit much. Margo is washing the floors but she’d like you to carry Zinnia back to bed.”
“Of course.”
“And I think Conor’s hungry. I couldn’t get much out of him.”
“We’ll all have a sandwich. What do you say, young man?”
The boy beamed at him and came over for a hug.
“By the way,” Louisa said, “Doctor Russell has asked the laboratory to send the result of Zinnia’s blood test direct to you. It’ll only take a few more days.”
“Good. And thank you for all you’ve done. Are you all set for the ball?”
She nodded. “Are you?”
“I’ll get to your place at about seven. Does that give us time? I want to be sure this young man is tucked up in bed before I leave.”
As Conor went outside to play Leo gazed at her.
“What?” she said with a smile.
“I’m planning a little fishing trip with Conor tomorrow. I’m wondering if you might come too.”
“But why?”
“I think it would do him good to be around other people. Someone different and not just me. He really needs a break from his mother’s illness.”
“Wouldn’t it be better just the two of you?”
He shook his head. “I think it would lighten the atmosphere if you were there, but look, if it doesn’t feel right…”
“No. I’ll come.”
“That’s great. I think a day out on the boat will be fun. Zinnia’s illness annoys him and that makes him feel guilty.”
“He’s only a child,” Louisa said, though she couldn’t imagine ever feeling annoyed with the mother she had lost.
“Can you meet me at the beach at nine?”
Louisa was the first to arrive at the beach. The mist had burned off and the sky was now a pearly blue. She kicked off her sandals and left footprints in the wet sand as she trod down to the milky foam at the edge of the ocean. She took a few steps in and then ran back out to avoid the rolling waves, squealing as she felt the cool water splashing her legs. She looked up at the sound of laughter and spotted Leo and Conor watching her as they made their way down the beach. It filled her with relief to see the boy looking so willing. She laughed too and feeling herself relax, held her hand out to Conor.
“Why not take your shoes off and join me?” she called out.
After just a moment’s hesitation, Conor dropped the buckets he was carrying and raced down toward her, chucking his shoes behind him as he went, and then sprinting to the water’s edge. She took his hand and they ran in, staggering back as the waves rolled toward them.
“Isn’t anyone going to help me with the boat?” Leo said, as he put down two bags of fishing tackle, an outboard motor, and a small hamper.
“We both will. Won’t we, Conor?”
The child grinned and they joined Leo, who led them up the beach a little way to where a peeling, clinker-built boat, about twelve foot long, was tied to a palm tree.
“It was once bright blue,” Leo said. “It just needs a new coat of paint to be good as new.”
She felt a flicker of apprehension, but noticing the look on her face he smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly sound. I had it built locally on British lines, so it’s something of a hybrid. Goes just fine.”
He unknotted the rope and together they pushed the little boat down the sand toward the water’s edge, where he attached the outboard motor.
“Can you hold the rope?” he said, and passed it to Louisa. “I’ll just get the stuff.”
After a moment he returned, carrying the tackle and the hamper, which he then threw on to the boat. Conor went back for the buckets and the net that was curled up inside one of them. Leo took them from him and placed them at the bow end.
“Right, Louisa and Conor, you two jump in and sit on that middle seat. It’s just a couple of planks but safe enough.”
They climbed in and as soon as they were seated, Leo began pushing the boat into the
water. Once it was afloat he climbed in too, then passed the hamper to Louisa to stow under the covered bow panel, before he sat on the fixed seat at the stern end.
“There’s not much power in this motor,” he said, as he started it up. “But it’s enough to get out and pootle about. Now I need to concentrate. It’s easy to start but difficult to control.”
Louisa watched the shore recede. Seabirds were flapping about above them and she could see a few fishermen farther out in the ocean. There was a salty breeze to freshen the air and the sea sparkled with reflected sunshine. With no sign of rain, it was a perfect day for fishing.
Once they’d reached the point where Leo felt they might catch some fish, he cut the engine and dropped anchor.
“How are you both doing?” he said.
Louisa smiled and Conor bobbed up and down excitedly. “Can we fish now?” he asked.
“You bet. I’ll just get out the tackle.”
He unwrapped the longer bag and prepared a rod for Conor. Once he was done he passed it over.
“What about you, Louisa? Do you want a rod? Or you can help me throw out a line if you like.”
“I’ll help with that.”
She looked around at all the paraphernalia of fishing. Now Leo was preparing a line strung with floats and hooks and a net in the style of the local fishermen.
When it was ready he and Louisa flung it over the side. “Now what?” she said.
“We wait. Fishing is about waiting. Surely you know that?”
“I used to go out fishing with my father when I was a child, but Elliot found the whole business too slow. He liked sailing competitively so we never went out to fish.”
“I enjoy the physical activity of line-and-net fishing, but if it’s peace I’m after there’s nothing like a line and rod. It’s how I relax. And Conor is turning out to be a good little fisherman, aren’t you, young man?”
Conor grinned but didn’t speak, clearly concentrating on the task at hand. While they waited Louisa and Leo continued to talk.
“What are we likely to catch?” she asked.
“Mackerel, maybe, and anchovy in the net. We might be lucky and get some mullet or red snapper. Whatever we catch, I thought we’d have a barbecue on the beach afterward.”
“Lovely. What’s in the hamper?”
“Everything we need for a barbecue, of course, oh, and a flask of tea—would you like some now?”
She nodded.
“Can you carefully move across to the bow—in the hamper there you’ll find a flask and spare mug. There’s a bottle of lemonade for Conor, too.”
As she stood the boat rocked and, with her heart thumping, she held out her arms to stabilize herself. He grinned up at her before she made her way to the hamper and brought back their drinks. Leo poured the tea and opened Conor’s bottle, but Conor didn’t take it right away. With both hands he was clutching the now very bent rod and beginning to reel the line in.
“Need any help there?” Leo asked.
Conor shook his head, clearly determined to manage the catch all on his own. When he had finally reeled it all in, they saw a shining silvery fish flapping on the end of the line.
“What is it?” he asked Leo, his eyes glowing with pleasure.
“A decent-sized mackerel, I think,” Leo said as he took it from him and knocked it on the head. “Now we need a few more of those and we’ll have lunch.”
While the boy drank his lemonade, Leo prepared Conor’s line again and then passed the rod back to him.
They sat in silence for a while, Louisa humming a tune under her breath and transfixed by her surroundings: the sun beating down from a turquoise sky, the feel of the warm breeze, the deep blue color of the sea, and the sound of the water as it lapped against the sides of the boat.
“Singing to the fish, are you?” Leo said with a grin and she laughed.
Suddenly a fish flew through the air and landed with a thump in the bow of the boat. Louisa jumped in surprise and Conor almost dropped his rod.
“Now that is something,” Leo said. “A flying fish means we’re not far from a pod of dolphins. This little fellow would have been attempting to get out of their way.”
“And now he’s our lunch,” Conor added with glee. “Let’s watch out for the dolphins.”
As the boat rocked they kept their eyes peeled, scanning the sea for telltale splashes and frothy waves. Conor shouted out and they all spotted a gray-blue shape slipping through the water. They watched excitedly as pelicans began diving down from the sky to feed on the disturbed fish. After a few moments, Conor pointed at two or three dolphins leaping like acrobats as they chased each other at the side of the boat, one of them corkscrewing in the air before crossing underneath the bow. Louisa looked on, grinning with delight, as the Indian Ocean became packed with dolphins.
She had rarely seen a pod of them so close up and, falling under their spell, felt transported by these otherworldly creatures, sent to remind them of cheerful good humor and the utter joy of being alive. As she gazed, utterly mesmerized, they swam playfully alongside for a little longer, before leaping the waves and heading farther out to sea, leaving Louisa feeling exhilarated. The immense ocean was enough to produce this kind of wonder on its own, but the dolphins had been a special treat, infecting them all with a feeling of happiness. When it came to her that she hadn’t thought of Elliot all morning, she took a slow deep breath and gave silent thanks.
“Well, what a piece of luck,” Leo said and the warmth of his smile curled inside her.
A little while later he and Louisa pulled up the line and net.
“So, what do we have here?” Leo said as he examined the haul. “Ah, not bad. Some anchovies, just as I thought, and a mullet—but look, there are a few giant tiger prawns too. I think, along with the mackerel and the flying fish, we have just managed to catch our lunch. Well done, Conor, you can reel in your line now. We’re heading back to shore.”
The shore lay somnolent in the hazy midday heat, and Leo chose a spot in the shade of one of the strangler fig trees growing among the shrubland lining the beach. Further up the beach, a few turbaned fishermen had hauled in their nets and Louisa could see the buckets of prawns they’d just caught. They kept clear of the fishermen and Leo built a small fire, using some stones on which he balanced a little grill he had stored in the hamper.
Once the fire was ready he placed the fish on the grill and within a few minutes was sharing out the spoils on to Bakelite plates. The three of them sat on the grass licking their salty fingers as they ate the fish, washed down with more lemonade. Louisa yawned and stretched out her arms.
“Tired?” he asked.
“I don’t sleep terribly well since…”
“You know what I do when I can’t sleep?”
“What?”
“I get up at dawn and watch the day arrive. Why not join me tomorrow? I’ll meet you here just before it gets light. I’ll even cook you breakfast afterward.”
“I’d like that.” She paused. “Looking forward to the ball?”
He nodded. “Though it’s been a while since I last danced.”
“When was that?”
“At the Strand Hotel in Rangoon. An amazing place. If you ever get the chance, do stay there. Very grand.”
“You were in Burma as well as Malaya?”
“I worked for a teak-logging company for a couple of years.”
“But you didn’t stay there as long as Malaya?”
“No.”
“What made you leave? Was it what happened with Alicia?”
“Pretty much. I needed a change of scene.”
After that they slipped into silence with just the sound of the ocean and the seabirds in the background.
Before long Louisa was humming under her breath again.
“What is that son
g?” Leo asked.
“It’s an awful Shirley Temple song. ‘On the Good Ship Lollipop.’ I can’t get it out of my mind.”
He laughed. “I suppose that’s appropriate,” he said and began to sing the silly song too. Before long all three of them were singing at the tops of their voices before collapsing back onto the ground, with tears in their eyes and helpless with laughter, as the bemused fishermen stared at them.
When Leo arrived at the beach the next morning it was still dark, the sea calm behind them, and as they entered the track up through the plantation, Louisa enjoyed the blanket hush, silent but for their feet crunching the earth and the sound of her own breath. A throb of expectation passed through her as she gazed up at the still starlit sky, and it seemed as if the whole of nature lay waiting. After a few minutes, the stars dimmed and the sky turned indigo. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the peace and the fresh morning air, but the silence was instantly broken by the screech and chatter of fruit bats flying from one tree to another.
As she glanced back over the ocean, the sky quickly changed to a different, slightly brighter blue, with a line of turquoise and a strip of red where it met the purple sea. She savored being out with Leo, while the rest of the world still slept, and a dreamlike feeling gripped her. Not quite day. Not quite night. It felt mystical and she liked it. Gradually, as the blue faded and the sky turned a dark red-gold in color, a few birds began celebrating the approach of day.
“It happens so suddenly, doesn’t it?” she said. “The light.” And as she spoke the sky began to pale and she could now see the shadowy shapes of the trees looming on either side of the track in the smudgy light.
A breeze got up just as the dawn chorus proper began. As it developed the noise was shattering and she couldn’t help laughing. It felt as if the entire forest was singing, building to a wild cacophony.
“Does Conor sleep through this?” she asked, struggling to be heard.
“Yes. I often have to drag him out of bed. Poor thing. His mother allows him to stay up far too late.”
“Is she a good mother?”
“She’s not a conventional one, that’s for sure, but she does her best.”
The Sapphire Widow Page 23