The Butterfly Box(142)

‘Not yet,’ she explained. ‘I wanted to tell you first.’

‘Well, call Toby,’ she suggested. ‘I’m afraid this is all too sudden, I haven’t

met the man yet so I can’t make a comment. Why don’t you have a long engagement to give you both time to get to know each other?’

Torquil wants to marry immediately.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. He’s so impulsive. Mama, we love each other,’ she insisted.

‘Your father and I loved each other too.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with you and Papa. This is me and Torquil, we’re two entirely different people. We both know what we want.’

Helena sighed heavily. As if Federica was old enough to know what she wanted?

When Toby heard the news he was devastated and furious. ‘Julian and I are going up to London immediately to talk to her,’ he told Helena briskly. ‘We’ll take the early train tomorrow. I know I’ve met this Torquil before, so has Julian, and although we can’t remember where, he certainly left a bad taste in our mouths.’ ‘Try to talk some sense into her, Toby, she’s out of her mind.’

‘She won’t marry him, don’t worry,’ he replied.

‘She’s determined.’

‘I know. But she listens to me.’

Thank God, because she doesn’t listen to me any more,’ she replied defensively, remembering with the residue of an old bitterness how she always listened to her father. ‘Where are you meeting her? Won’t she be at work?’

‘No. Torquil’s made her give up her job. She’s languishing in his house in The Little Boltons.’



‘Very nice,’ said Helena tightly.

‘Very,’ Toby agreed. ‘We’re going straight there.’



News travelled fast. Polly was appalled and accidentally knocked one of Jake’s model boats onto the floor where it shattered into hundreds of small pieces. When he returned home from work in the evening to find his treasured creation in bits his mouth twitched with rage until he recognized the pain in his wife’s eyes, because they tended to droop like a sad dog when she was unhappy.

‘Federica’s marrying this man,’ she said helplessly.

Jake shook his head, ‘There are more model boats but only one Federica. I hope she knows what she’s doing,’ he said quietly.

‘She thinks she’s marrying her father,’ said Polly. ‘According to Ingrid, who hears it all from her girls, the man’s forty years old and looks just like Ramon.’ ‘Handsome devil then,’ he said.

‘Devil being the operative word, I fear,’ Polly replied gravely.

Helena was giving herself a manicure when she heard the newsflash on the radio. She wasn’t concentrating, half listening and half dreaming herself out of her mundane existence. But the words focused her thoughts into one small point that sent cold panic slicing through her veins with the violence of freshly sharpened knives.

The train that Toby and Julian had taken to London had crashed.





Chapter 31


Cachagua

Estella screamed and sat up in bed, staring into the darkness and panting in terror. Ramon was wrenched back from the hot African jungle into the cold fever of his lover’s nightmare. He stretched out his hand and switched on the light. He sat up and drew her into his arms, stroking her damp hair and murmuring words of reassurance. ‘Mi amor, it’s a bad dream, nothing but a bad dream,’ he said, feeling the thumping of her heartbeat vibrate against his body like a terrified creature desperate to break out. ‘I’m here, my love, I’m here.’

‘I dreamed of death.' she said, still feeling the icy claws of fear scratching at her skin.

‘It was just a dream.’

‘It’s a premonition,’ she replied steadily. ‘It’s the second time I’ve had it.’

‘Mi amor, you’re frightened of something, that’s all.’

‘It will happen a third time,’ she said, holding him tightly around his shoulders with trembling arms. ‘Then it will happen for real.’

Ramon shook his head and kissed her neck. ‘So, who died in your dream?’

he asked, indulging her.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t see his face,’ she replied, blinking away her tears. ‘But I fear it was you.’

‘It’ll take more than a dream to kill me off,’ he joked, but Estella didn’t smile.

‘Perhaps it was Ramoncito,’ she choked. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Look at me,’ he said, holding her gently away at arm’s length. ‘Look into my eyes, Estella.’ She stared at him with the hollow eyes of the tormented and watched him smile at her with love. ‘No one’s going to die. At least, you can’t predict a death in a dream. You’re anxious about something and it’s playing with your subconscious. Perhaps you’re worried about my trip to Africa.’