The Butterfly Box(135)

Molly cancelled the drinks she had planned with a couple of friends from university and hovered with her sister by the window to catch a glimpse of the dark stranger who was courting their friend.

Federica had nothing glamorous to wear. Her wardrobe consisted of sensible work suits. So Molly leant her a cream cashmere polo neck to go with black jeans and Hester offered her the new sheepskin coat she had bought in Harvey Nichols. But when the shiny Porsche drew up outside the flat and the immaculately dressed Torquil stepped out in a pair of black suede trousers, which he wore over boots, Molly knew someone would have to take Federica in hand.



‘Christ, he’s a knock-out,’ Molly exclaimed, her mouth agape.

Hester rushed to her sister’s side. ‘Wow, Fede, is it really him?’ she squealed in amazement. ‘You lucky thing.’

Federica stalled by the door, trembling. ‘I’m so nervous, I feel sick,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I won’t know what to say.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Molly sharply. ‘Of course you’ll know what to say. Just because he’s handsome doesn’t mean he’s different from everyone else. He’s probably just as nervous.’

‘Enjoy it, Fede,’ said Hester encouragingly. ‘Let him entertain you, that’s what Mummy always says.’

‘He’s bloody gorgeous,’ Molly sighed, lighting a cigarette and wishing he had seen her first. ‘Just don’t be innocent. He’ll be expecting a sophisticate.’ ‘Oh, God, Molly,’ she wailed. ‘You’re making me even more nervous.’

‘Well, if you don’t go out now he’ll drive off and that’ll be that,’ Molly added bossily. ‘Go on!’

When Federica descended the steps onto the street, her pale face and anxious eyes were illuminated by the incandescence of the street lamps and Torquil felt as if his stomach was floating inside his belly, lifting him off the ground. She walked up to him with the same shy smile that had made his spirits soar the day before. He greeted her with a kiss and smelt the sweet scent of ylang-ylang that she had put into her bath. ‘You look beautiful,’ he breathed and noticed the colour sting her cheeks with pleasure. Then he opened the door and

watched her settle onto the tanned leather seat. As he closed it and walked around to the other side of the car he cast his eyes up to the window where the faces of Molly and Hester were pressed up against the glass and waved. To his amusement the faces disappeared like a couple of apparitions.

‘I’m glad you dressed warmly,’ he said, turning the key in the ignition and pulling out into the road.



‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘Surprise,’ he replied and she watched his profile as he grinned with satisfaction.



‘You like surprises, don’t you?’ she said.

‘As long as I’m the one doing the surprising. Don’t ever think about surprising me. I won’t like it.’

‘I’ll remember that.’



They drove along the Embankment towards Parliament Square. It was a cold, dry night. The sky sparkled above the hazy glow of a city that is never dark and the crescent of the moon floated on the surface of the Thames like the ghost of a sunken ship. Federica could not have hoped for a more romantic night. She

opened the window and let the cool air brush away her nervousness. Torquil parked the car and pulled a wicker basket and rug out of the trunk.

‘What’s that for?’ she asked in amusement.

‘All part of the surprise,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Follow me and you’ll find out.’ She followed him to a gap in the wall beside the Thames and descended the damp steps towards a pretty red boat that bobbed up and down on the swell. An old skipper waited with the same philosophical patience as the men of the sea that Federica had grown up with in Polperro and she felt a breath of nostalgia. He nodded to her without smiling and extended his rough hand to help her down onto the deck. She accepted his assistance and stepped onto the boat. Torquil climbed up to the front and threw the rug down.

‘There, come on up, we’re going for a long ride,’ he said, watching her smile in delight. He took her hand to steady her. ‘It’s much more fun over here, we can see where we’re going for a start,’ he said, moving the picnic basket.

‘I can’t believe you’ve organized this for me,’ she exclaimed, sitting down.

‘I want to impress you,’ he replied truthfully. ‘Okay, Jack, we’re ready to roll,’ he shouted to the skipper who tapped his cap and disappeared behind the controls. The engine roared before settling into a gentle rattle and they made their