The Butterfly Box(3)

Federica cleared away her breakfast, humming to herself and skipping around

the kitchen as she did so. Hal played with his train in the nursery. Helena remained by the window.

‘Mama!’ shouted Hal. ‘My train is broken, it’s not working.’ Helena picked up her packet of cigarettes and strode out of the kitchen, leaving Federica to finish clearing up. Once the table was wiped and the crockery washed up she put on her cooking apron and waited for Lidia to arrive.

When Lidia bustled through the gate she saw Federica’s small eager face pressed up against the glass, smiling broadly at her.

‘Hola} Señorita,’ she said breathlessly as she entered the hall. ‘You’re ready early.’

‘I’ve even cleared away the breakfast,’ replied Federica in Spanish. Although her mother spoke excellent Spanish they had always spoken English as a family, even when her father was home.

‘Well, you are a good girl,’ Lidia wheezed, following the child into the kitchen. ‘Ah, you angel. You’ve done all the work,’ she said, casting her dark eyes over the mixing bowls and spoons already laid out on the table.

‘I want it all to be perfect for Papa,’ she said, her cheeks aflame. She could barely contain her impatience and suppressed her desire to run by skipping instead of walking. That way the nervous feeling in her stomach was indulged a little but not too much. Lidia struggled into her pink overalls then washed her swollen brown hands. She suggested Federica do the same.

‘You must always wash your hands before cooking, you don’t know where they’ve been,’ she said.

‘Like Señora Baraca’s dog,’ giggled Federica.

‘Pobrecito,’ Lidia sighed, tilting her round head to one side and pulling a thin, sympathetic smile. ‘He’s tied up all day in that small garden, it’s no wonder he barks from dawn till dusk.’

‘Doesn’t she take him out at all?’ Federica asked, running her hands under the tap.

‘Oh yes, she takes him out occasionally, but she’s old,’ Lidia replied, ‘and we old people don’t have as much energy for things like that.’

‘You’re not old, Lidia,’ said Federica kindly.

‘Not old, just fat,' said Helena in English, walking into the kitchen with Hal’s toy engine. ‘She’d have much more energy if she didn’t eat so much. Imagine carrying that bulk around all day, no wonder she wheezes all the time.’

‘Buenos dias, Señora," said Lidia, who didn’t understand English.

‘Good morning, Lidia. I need a knife to mend this blasted train,’ said Helena in Spanish, not even bothering to force a smile, however small. She was too anxious and impatient to think of anyone else but herself.

‘I wouldn’t worry about that, Don Ramon will be home soon and he can fix it. That’s men’s work,’ said Lidia cheerfully.

Thank you, Lidia, that’s very helpful. Fede, pass me a knife,’ she said edgily. Federica handed her the knife and watched her walk out again.

‘Oh, it’s so exciting that your Papa is coming home,’ enthused Lidia, embracing Federica fondly. ‘I’ll bet you didn’t sleep a wink.’

‘Not a wink,’ she replied, looking up at the clock. ‘He’ll be here soon,’ she said and Lidia noticed that her small hands trembled when she began to cut the butter up into pieces.

‘Careful you don’t cut yourself,’ she said gently. ‘You don’t want your Papa to come back to a daughter with only seven fingers.’ She laughed, then wheezed and coughed.



Helena, who was usually very deft at mending things, broke the engine. Hal started to cry. Helena pulled him into her arms and managed to cheer him up by promising him another engine, a bigger, better one. ‘Anyway, this engine was old and tatty. What use is an engine like that? The train looks much better without his engine,’ she said and thought how much she’d like to be a carriage on her own without an engine. She lit another cigarette. The doors to the garden were open, inviting in the gentle sea breeze that smelt of oranges and ozone. It was too hot to be sitting in suburbia, they should be down on the beach, she thought in frustration. She wiped her sweating brow with her hand then looked at her watch. Her throat constricted. His plane would have landed.



Federica and Lidia buzzed about the kitchen like a couple of bees in a flowerbed. Federica loved to be included and followed Lidia’s instructions with great enthusiasm. She felt like a grown-up and Lidia treated her as one. They chatted about Lidia’s back pain and her stomach cramps and her husband’s verruca, which was giving him a lot of trouble. ‘I’m afraid of putting my feet where he’s put his,’ she explained, ‘so I wear a pair of socks even in the shower.’