Sam thought of Federica. If it had helped Violet why not Federica? He sat down at the desk and typed out a verse. He had decided to send it anonymously because he felt there was more chance of her reading it and acting upon it if she didn’t know it came from him. After all, he had tried to reach her
twice and failed both times. Then he had gone all the way to London on the train to deliver it.
He had stood in wait outside her house under a black umbrella, so that she wouldn’t recognize him. Then he had hung around on the pavement for over an hour willing her to return. It had taken him that long to realize that she was already in the house. When he had peered in through the window he had caught a glimpse of her wandering about the rooms in her dressing gown, eating a packet of crisps. It was mid-afternoon. She was most certainly alone. He had resisted the temptation to ring the bell and slipped the letter through the box in the door instead before walking away and returning to Polperro on the late afternoon train.
He had spent the entire journey back to Polperro thinking about her. The image of her wandering through the rooms of her large, elegant house in her dressing gown, eating to assuage her unhappiness, had evoked feelings of both anger and pity. He had wanted to lie in wait for Torquil and hit him over the head, finishing him off for good. But he knew the only way to free her was to teach her how to do it herself. He hoped the letter might inspire her as it had inspired Violet. He dreamed of one day loving her himself, but those
dreams were frail clouds on the horizon.
‘You know, your wife’s going to the gym? She’s already lost weight. She only ate a salad last night at the Blights’. Not like her at all,’ Lucia said scornfully.
1Poverina, I’d hate to exercise and diet. Sex is the only pleasant way to stay in forma.1
‘She’s not going to a gym,’ Torquil replied loftily. ‘She’s got a personal trainer. I arranged it for her. It’s a good thing too, she needs to lose a bit of weight.’ ‘Sweet,’ she sighed. ‘It’s all for you, you know.’
‘I know. She’s been very distracted lately. I can’t seem to get through to her. Her silence drives me mad. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Perhaps losing some weight will put the smile back onto her face.’ He shook his head in order to be rid of his domestic problems and grinned down at his mistress. ‘Now how about slipping into that little black ensemble I bought you?’
‘Well, you'll have to be quick, I’m meeting Fede for lunch at the Mirabelle.’ ‘Well, come here then,’ he said, holding her against him and running his hand up the backs of her legs.
‘Do you still make love to Fede?’ she asked as his fingers traced the tops of
her lace stockings.
‘Of course.’
‘No results yet?’
‘None.’
‘I’m sure I’m fertile.’
‘I’m sure you are, angel,’ he said, spanking her on her naked bottom. ‘Ah, you’re ready for me.’
‘I never wear knickers when you come to visit,’ she said and laughed throatily.
But as much as Torquil tried to lose his anxieties in Lucia’s succulent flesh, he was unable to stop thinking about his wife. He sensed her detachment and it alarmed him.
Chapter 37
Helena should have recognised her daughter’s unhappiness, because she had suffered too and knew marital discontent better than anyone. But Helena had never had the ability to see further than herself and her own needs. She only saw Hal because, unlike Federica, she needed him. He had always been the part of Ramon that she had been able to hold onto. As much as she had tried to convince herself otherwise, she believed she had never stopped loving Ramon.
Arthur was kind and compassionate, doting and generous - everything that a woman should desire in a husband, but she yearned for the magic of those early years with Ramon. They haunted her by night in the form of sensual dreams, which reminded her of that transient paradise, and by day in the form of a constant, nagging regret. The worse she treated Arthur the harder he tried to please her.
At the start of their marriage she had welcomed his affection with gratitude, and she thought she finally had everything she could ever want. But after a while her thoughts had been dragged back across the sea to another life where
she believed, at one point, she had truly known happiness. She couldn’t help but wish for something else, something more, something better. She seemed always dissatisfied. But Arthur’s patience was limitless. He felt he understood his wife. She had been neglected and hurt. She needed attention and understanding not severity. He was sure that given time she would soften and allow herself a piece of happiness. He was certain his love was enough.