trouble too.’
‘Who’s that?’ Sam asked, feeling an invisible hand wrap itself around his throat.
‘My father.’
‘Your father?’
‘Yes, he’s at the root of Hal’s problem.’
‘How did he help you?’ he asked, fixing his eyes on the road in front of him and gripping the steering wheel in an effort to control his impulses.
‘I wasn’t going to tell you, because I feared you might think it ridiculous. But Papa sent me anonymous notes of such lovely poetry. He must have written them himself, after all, he’s a poet as well as a novelist.’
‘I see,’ said Sam tightly. His heart flooded with disappointment, but he couldn’t bring himself to dampen her happiness and tell her that the notes had really come from him.
‘He’s very spiritual and philosophical. His notes just opened my eyes, I suppose, and helped me to see my situation more clearly. I felt I wasn’t alone, that he was there helping me. He gave me the strength to leave Torquil. I want to thank him. But I think he could help Hal too.’
‘So, how long will you stay?’
‘As long as it takes. I’ve got nothing to keep me here.’
‘No,’ he said flatly, swallowing his misery in order to brood on it later when he was alone. ‘Nothing.’
Chapter 40
Hal wanted to get better. Polly said that was the first step and a very brave step indeed. Helena was appalled when she heard, but Federica was firm. ‘He needs a new scene,’ she said. ‘And so do I.1
Helena insisted that she could nurse him back to health. ‘You don’t need to take him across the world, for goodness’ sake!’ she exclaimed, hurt that Hal was ready to leave her and humiliated that she hadn’t been able to help him herself.
‘We’re going to find Papa,’ Federica admitted finally. ‘I know that Hal’s problem goes back to when he was a child in Chile. He needs to talk to him.’
Helena went white with indignation, as if Federica was attacking her personally for leaving Ramon. She sat tight-lipped and furious, smouldering with guilt and jealousy because she wasn’t included.
Arthur was so relieved that at last someone had taken responsibility for Hal he bought them their tickets to Santiago.
‘Don’t thank me,’ he said to Federica, ‘this is to thank you. You don’t know how grateful I am.’
Federica knew he was discreetly thanking her for more than preserving the health of his stepson. She kissed his fleshy face and whispered, ‘Don’t forget the good times with Mama, will you. There were many more than bad.’
But Arthur was determined to wait. Sadly he had no choice. If she didn’t come back of her own accord, he would have to let her go.
Sam was mortified that Federica was leaving Polperro and hurt that she believed there was no reason to stay. He wanted to shake her, tell her he loved her with his whole heart and his whole being, but he knew that if he did he would ruin any chance he had.
She would come to him when she was ready or not at all. He’d just have to be patient. The day before she left he arrived at Toby and Julian’s house to say goodbye. He had bought her a gift, hoping that she’d remember him each time she used it.
‘Oh, Sam, you really shouldn’t have bought me a present,’ she said, taking the package from him. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his moth-eaten jersey barely able to keep out the cold that penetrated right through to his bones. She opened the brown paper to find a Pentax camera. ‘My God!’ she
exclaimed. This is a proper camera.’
‘It’s got a proper zoom lens too,’ he said, smiling in order to hide his despair.
‘You’re so sweet, Sam, thank you,’ she replied, kissing him on his taut cheek. He breathed in the scent of her skin that invaded his senses whenever she came close and resisted the impulse to pull her against him and kiss her properly like he had done that night in the barn.
‘Don’t forget your friend, will you?’ he said, suppressing his emotion.
She grinned at him with gratitude. ‘You’ve been such a good friend, Sam. I’m so grateful. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d never have got through these last weeks.’
‘Well, don’t forget that you did it all by yourself,’ he said. ‘You don’t need anyone any more, you’re strong on your own.’
Federica frowned at him and thought how like her father he sounded.
Mariana had just come in from a walk along the beach when the telephone rang. She picked it up to hear the crackle of a long-distance call and then the thin voice of a young woman. ‘Hola, quìn es?’ she said, putting her hand over