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The Butterfly Box(45)

By:Santa Montefiore


‘So,’ she said, blinking happily, ‘if we’re going to get you a boyfriend we’ve got to get you looking good. You’re far too fat!’ Toby laughed bashfully. ‘The diet starts today, and you’re staying more than a month. Ramon and I aren’t travelling again until March and I’m not sending you back to London until

you’re ready, understand?’ He nodded. ‘Love is the best thing in the world. I want you to have the sort of love I have,’ she added.

‘For the first time ever I feel it’s possible,’ Toby replied, taking her hand and squeezing it. Suddenly he felt lighter and more positive. As they walked back up the road to Cerro Castillo where Ramon and Helena had a beautiful house overlooking the sea, Toby felt as if he was seeing the world for the first time in many years. He wanted to take a boat out and lie under the sun, rocking gently on the waves, gazing out onto the horizon that suddenly held so many promises he wanted to run to it and embrace it.



Toby looked across at Helena who now lay sleeping against the seat belt, her troubled eyes shut to the turmoil of the last month, dreaming of better times no doubt. Her breathing was slow and deep as if even in sleep she recognized the familiar air of her home country. How life has its ups and downs, he thought, at least after a down one can only go up. He glanced at the children in the mirror and noticed the gentle stirring of their bodies as they left the comfort of their secret worlds to open their eyes onto unfamiliar countryside. He wished it were spring, then England wouldn’t look so bleak.

Federica sat up and blinked out of the window at the passing fields, scattered white with a thin covering of frost.

‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked.

‘Not quite, Fede,’ he replied jovially. ‘Tell me about your magic box?’ he asked, watching her open and close it absentmindedly.

She sighed and her face lengthened sadly. ‘All right,’ she said, recalling her father’s secure embrace and inwardly wincing because with that memory invaded the less pleasant one of the conversation she had overheard in Cachagua. But as she began to tell him the story of the Inca princess the colour returned to her cheeks and her spirits lifted. By the time they stopped for lunch in a quaint village pub she no longer felt sad but intrigued. Intrigued by all that was new about her.





Chapter 11


When they turned the corner into the narrow lane that wound its way down to the house where Toby and Helena had grown up, Helena felt her heart turn over. She rolled down the window to smell the familiar scents of her childhood. But it was January and the air was frosted so she smelt nothing. This did not dampen her enthusiasm. As they drove through the gates and onto the gravel the white house rose into view like a steady old friend, exactly as it always had been, pretty in spite of the winter that left its walls naked and exposed.

On hearing the car, Jake and Polly, who had spent the previous hour pacing the rooms in agitation, hurried out of the front door to welcome the weary travellers home. Polly noticed immediately that her daughter was thin and gaunt but she was surprised at how well the children looked. Federica ran into her arms and embraced her in excitement.

‘You have your own room, Fede, and I’ve even made you chocolate crispies for tea because I remember how much you liked them when I made them for you in Chile.' said Polly, hugging the skinny child who held on to her waist like an orphaned monkey. Hal clung to his mother’s legs and begged to be picked up.

‘Hal, sweetie, you’re too big to be carried. You’re four and not a small four either,’ Helena laughed, kissing her father with emotion. ‘God, it’s good to be home. I feel better already.’

‘Do come in out of the cold. It’s warm in the kitchen, let’s all go and talk in there,’ Polly suggested, ushering Federica in with her capable big hands.

‘Well driven, Toby,’ said Jake, patting his son stiffly on his back. ‘It was very good of you to pick them up.’

‘No trouble at all, Dad,’ he replied, grateful for his father’s praise. He didn’t get much of it these days.

Polly laid the table with a chipped teapot that Toby had once dropped and an odd collection of mugs she had acquired over the years. She then loaded up a tray with chocolate crispies, biscuits, cake and Marmite sandwiches. Unlike other Chilean children Hal and Federica had grown up on Marmite which Polly had sent out regularly to Viña along with the Mary Quant makeup Helena couldn’t do without. Polly looked at her daughter with worry. She was still good looking but her radiance had faded like a dried flower. Neglect had

sucked the juice out of her and left her dehydrated. Polly wanted to wring Ramon’s neck, but she was careful to wait until she was alone with Helena before she talked about her errant husband. The children warmed up in front of the Aga, eating their way through the tea like hungry locusts. They settled in quickly and Hal overcame his shyness when he saw the chocolate cake.