The Butterfly Box(58)

‘I received a letter from Papa today,’ Federica told Hester as they sat on the raff in the middle of the lake. ‘He’ll be visiting us soon.’

‘That’s nice, what did he say?’

‘He wrote me a story. He writes wonderful stories,’ she said, her cheeks burning with pleasure.

‘Is that his job?’

‘Yes. He writes books. He once wrote about Polperro for the National Geographic. That’s how he met Mama.’

‘Really, how romantic.’

‘It was. He wrote a secret message in the article that only she would understand. She realized then that he loved her.’

‘Molly says your parents are divorced,’ said Hester suddenly before she had time to stop herself. Federica gasped in horror and her face stung crimson.

‘Divorced? No, that’s not true. Who told her that?’ she asked tearfully.

‘I imagine she made it up,’ said Hester quickly.

‘Well, it’s not true. They aren’t divorced. Papa’s coming to visit soon. Tell her that. If they were divorced he wouldn’t write me such a nice letter, would he?’

‘Of course not. Molly makes up loads of things,’ Hester said, wishing she hadn’t mentioned it for Federica’s face was now grey and agonized. They sat in silence while Hester was tortured with regret and Federica with uncertainty.

‘If I tell you a secret, will you promise to keep it for ever?’ said Federica quietly, blinking sadly across at her friend.

‘For ever. You can trust me. You know you can,’ said Hester, wishing to make it up to her.

‘Don’t tell anyone about this. Anyone at all.’

‘I won’t, I promise.’

‘Not Molly.’

‘Especially not Molly,’ said Hester firmly.

‘Well, we were in Cachagua, staying with my grandparents. I overheard my parents arguing,’ she began hesitantly.

‘What about?’

‘Mama was accusing Papa of not caring about us, that’s why he spent so much time in other countries. I didn’t tell you before, but Papa always travelled a lot. We rarely saw him. He’d suddenly turn up out of the blue after a few months. Sometimes one month, sometimes more. He’d never say when he was coming home, he’d just arrive. She said that their marriage was only a bit of paper and that she was giving him his freedom. She said he’d never have to come home again.' Federica’s chin wobbled with despair.

‘But he’s written you this letter,’ said Hester, shuffling up to her friend and placing a comforting arm around her shoulders.

‘I know. He wouldn’t have written it if he wasn’t coming back, would he?’

‘Of course not. If he didn’t want to see you again he wouldn’t have written at all, would he?’

Federica shook her head. ‘No, he wouldn’t have written,’ she agreed.

‘So there’s nothing to be sad about. In fact there’s everything to be happy about. He’ll be coming to visit soon. Maybe very soon.’

‘If they were divorced, I’d know about it, wouldn’t I?’

‘Yes. They would have told you.’

‘Mama said that we’d live in England and Papa would come and see us just like he always has done.’

‘Well then, that’s the truth,’ Hester conceded. Federica wiped her tears with a hanky that she pulled out of her pocket. The only person Hester knew who carried a hanky in their pocket was Nuno. ‘You know, my mother says that people often say things they don’t mean when they fight.’ She added, ‘My father says terrible things, but we don’t really worry about them because when he’s angry he’s a different person. I think your parents were different people when they fought. I doubt they meant it.’



‘Me too,’ Federica agreed, feeling a lot better.



‘Why don’t we ask Sam to light a fire for us, then we can toast some marshmallows?’ Hester suggested happily.

Federica blinked across at her friend with gratitude then focused her thoughts on Sam. At once she forgot about her father and the conversation she had overheard in Cachagua. Paddling furiously, they made their way across the glassy lake to the long reeds and bulrushes.



Sam was not happy to be distracted from his book. They found him lying on the sofa in the sitting room, eating a packet of salt and vinegar crisps and listening to David Bowie. He told them to go and find someone else.

‘But there is no one else, Sam,’ Hester said.

‘What about Bea?’

‘It’s Saturday, silly,’ she replied.

‘Well, she’s here because I heard her,’ said Sam, taking another handful of crisps.