‘Oh, Nacho, really. Is this what your silence is about? Ramon’s lifestyle? It’s really none of our business. If it works for them it shouldn’t concern you or me.’
‘But does it work for them?’ he said, looking at her steadily. ‘I don’t know that it does. I feel something in my bones.’
‘They’re old bones, Nacho, I’m surprised they still feel anything at all.’ She smiled.
‘They’re old bones, woman, but they’re as sensitive as they always have been. Will you walk with me up the beach?’ he asked suddenly, draining his glass.
Mariana looked surprised. ‘Now?’
‘Of course. We old people have to strike while we’re still able to. Tomorrow may be our last.’
‘What nonsense, mi amor, you really are very miserable to be with sometimes. But, yes, I’ll walk with you up the beach. We can take our shoes off and get our feet wet, hold hands like we used to.’
‘I’d like that very much.' he said, removing his panama hat and kissing her soft cheek.
‘You old romantic.' she said and laughed at their foolishness. They were too old to play these games.
Ramon tucked Federica into bed. He noticed the box was on the table beside her.
‘I’m frightened the box might not be here when I wake up.' she said suddenly, her smooth face creasing with anxiety.
‘Don’t worry, Fede, it will be here when you wake up. No one’s going to take it while you’re asleep, I promise.’
‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had, I don’t want to be without it, ever.’
‘You won’t be.' he reassured her, kissing her forehead. ‘Have you noticed Señora Baraca’s dog isn’t barking tonight?’
‘He’s happy and tired, like me,’ she said, smiling up at her father.
‘He’s exhausted.’
‘What about tomorrow, can we take him out before we go to Cachagua?’
‘Of course we can,’ he said, touching her cheek with the tips of his fingers. ‘We can take him up the beach again.’
‘I feel sorry for Señora Baraca,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Because she’s so sad.’
‘She chooses to be sad, Fede.’
‘Does she?’
‘Yes. Everyone has a choice, they can either be happy or sad.’
‘But Mama told me her husband died,’ she protested.
‘Mama’s right. But her husband died over ten years ago, before you were born. Now that’s a long time ago.’
‘But Wachuko was sad for his whole life.’
‘Yes he was. But he didn’t have to be. Sometimes it’s better to move on rather than dwell on the past,’ he said. ‘One should learn things from the past and then let them go.’
‘What should Señora Baraca have learnt from her past?’ Federica asked, yawning.
‘That she should spend more time looking after her dog than mourning her
dead husband, don’t you think?’ he laughed.
‘Yes,’ she said and closed her eyes. Ramon watched her as she drifted off into the world of princesses and magic butterflies. Her long lashes caught the light that entered from the corridor, giving her a celestial beauty. Her face was long and noble, generous and honest. He felt his throat tighten with emotion at the thought of leaving her and while it didn’t weaken his resolve it just made it a little harder to accept. He bent down and kissed her forehead again, feeling her velvet skin against his dry lips. He smelt the fragrance of her soap and the clean scent of her hair. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and protect her from the harsh reality of a world that would only disappoint her.
Before he went to bed he crept into Hal’s room to watch him as he slept. He didn’t feel so close to his son. The child was only four and barely knew him. He was more attached to his mother and gave his father little attention. Hal didn’t need him like Federica did. He watched the little boy suck on his thumb and cuddle his toy rabbit as he slept. Hal looked as if he embodied the qualities of an angel, as though he had been dropped into bed by God himself. His skin was flawless, his expression serene and contented. Ramon ran his rough hand over the boy’s hair. Hal stirred and changed position but he didn’t wake up. Ramon left as quietly as he had come.
The bed was cold in spite of the warm night. Helena slept curled up at one side, almost falling off the edge in her effort to avoid him. Ramon lay on his back staring up at the icy moonlight that crept across the ceiling. Neither recalled the fevered interlude of the afternoon. They didn’t want to. Helena wished it hadn’t happened and flushed with shame when she thought of it. So she pretended it simply hadn’t happened. She felt him next to her, not because he moved, he didn’t, but because the atmosphere was so heavy it was as if a third person occupied the space between them. She felt afraid to move or make a sound so she breathed shallow breaths and lay as rigid as a corpse. When sleep finally overcame them it was tortured and fragile. Helena dreamed of arriving in Cornwall but not being able to find Polperro. Ramon dreamed of standing on the beach while Federica drowned out to sea. He did nothing to save her.