Then there were the children. She couldn’t comprehend that someone could love their children and yet care so little for them. He had written once but he hadn’t visited. It was now August. She often heard Federica listening to her butterfly box, miles away, riding on the mesmerising waves of her father’s stories as if that would bring her closer to him. Suddenly she was overcome with the possibility that something ill might have happened to him. She hadn’t considered that as a reason for his silence, she had been too busy blaming him for neglecting them. Defeated by guilt and remorse she pulled herself away from the window, lit a cigarette and dialled his parents’ number in Santiago.
1Hold,’ responded the maid in a distant voice. Helena tried to ignore the lengthy delay and asked to speak to Mariana. She waited with a constricted heart as Mariana came to the telephone.
‘It’s me, Helena,’ she said, trying to sound buoyant.
‘Helena. How nice to hear from you,’ Mariana replied, her tone at once
betraying her resentment. She had thought so often of her grandchildren, wondering how they were and whether they were happy in their new home. She had minded very much that they hadn’t written. She had waited for their letters with growing impatience and disappointment. But she didn’t want to reveal her feelings to Helena in case she put the telephone down and shut them out for ever.
‘I haven’t heard from Ramon since I left. Is he all right?’ Helena asked quickly, but she could tell from her mother-in-law’s voice that nothing dramatic had happened.
‘Hasn’t he called you?’ said Mariana in surprise.
‘No. He wrote to Fede,’ she said weakly, trying not to get emotional. She wasn’t meant to care any more.
‘Is that all?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, he’s now back in Chile. He’s bought an apartment here in Santiago. He’s got a new book coming out next March, it’s getting quite a lot of attention.’
‘I see.’
‘How are the children?’
They’re happy here. Of course they miss you both. They’re enormously fond of you and Nacho. So am I,’ she said, inhaling the cigarette held with a trembling hand. Suddenly she felt a stomach-wrenching homesickness that took her by surprise.
‘Are you happy?’ Mariana asked, sensing her daughter-in-law’s distress across the wire.
Helena paused. She wanted to say that she was happy, but she didn’t know whether she was or not. She only knew that for some strange reason she missed Ramon and needed to hear from him. ‘Yes,’ she replied impassively.
‘I am pleased,’ said Mariana, not convinced.
‘It’s just taking a while to get used to living here again,’ she said. ‘I’m lonely,’ she added to her amazement, then wondered where the devil that had come from.
‘You’ll settle in. It’s a big thing starting all over again in a new country. Sometimes the grass is greener on the other side until you discover that your problems follow you wherever you go.’
‘Yes,’ Helena replied automatically. Suddenly she realized that Mariana was right. Her problems had followed her to Polperro. She was still lonely. Still
dissatisfied. She had believed that coming home would change everything, that she would be able to return to her childhood, to that idyllic state before responsibility and domesticity had changed her.
‘You don’t often know what you have until you have lost it,’ Mariana added gravely. ‘What shall I tell Ramon?’ She still hoped they might see sense and realize that what they had was worth holding on to.
Tell him that his children miss him. Tell him to call or write or, better still, to come and visit,’ she said, unable to prevent the bitterness from seeping into her words. Tell him not to desert them because they need him.’
‘And what about you, mi amor?'
‘Nothing. I’m calling for the sake of the children,’ she retorted flatly.
‘Bueno. I’ll tell him,’ she replied. ‘Please send the children all our love, we miss them terribly. Perhaps they could write, we would love to hear from them.’
‘Of course. I’m so sorry. My mind has been elsewhere,’ said Helena guiltily and made a mental note to get the children to paint pictures of their new home for them.
When Helena put the telephone down she sunk into an armchair and watched the shadows edge their way into the room and into her head, where they grew, casting doubt into her mind. Had she perhaps been too hasty? She tormented herself with memories of Chile. Having despised it she now longed for it. She thought of her friends, the sunshine, the beach, the smell of the orange trees in the garden, the sound of children playing in the street, the barking of Señora Baraca’s dog. She remembered the days when Ramon would return home to her outstretched arms, carrying her straight up to their bedroom where they would lie for hours discovering each other again after long weeks of separation. Those had been happy times. He had even managed to satisfy her when she had hated him. Such was the power of his nature. She had been eaten up with bitterness because she had been unable to possess it, to tame it. Here she was now, the other side of the world, still longing to possess him. She didn’t dare ask herself whether she might have brought her children to England in order to get him to react, because he hadn’t reacted in the way that she had hoped he would. He had let her go. So now what?