The Forget-Me-Not Sonata(108)
‘It’s a fantastic-looking tree, isn’t it?’ she said, sitting beside him.
He drew her against him and kissed her temple. ‘This moment is such a gift, Audrey. To be here with you, in the middle of this immense open space. It’s like paradise. We can be ourselves and I can tell you I love you in a loud voice without worrying that I’m going to be overheard.’ She laughed as he shouted it out to the sky. ‘I love you, Audrey Forrester, I love you, I love you, I love you.’
‘Stop!’ she cried, wiping her eyes. ‘You are a silly old thing.’
‘But I’m your silly old thing.’
‘Yes, you are.’ Then she said in a serious voice, ‘This is the way it should have been. I feel closer to you than I do to anyone else and I haven’t seen you for years.’
‘I know, it’s as if we saw each other yesterday. That’s the definition of true friendship and, Audrey, I want you to be my lover. I would like you to be my wife, but above everything else you’re my dear friend.’
‘I only married Cecil because I thought I would never see you again. I thought you had gone for ever, Louis. But I never stopped loving you.’
‘I know, my love. Don’t torment yourself,’ he said gently. ‘I was hurt and angry when I found out, but it was I who left you.’
‘Why did you leave?’ she asked, shaking her head, remembering how hurt she had been by his apparent selfishness.
‘Because with Isla’s death everything changed. You even looked different. Distant, impassive. The fight had gone. I knew duty would come before love. I knew you couldn’t go against your parents’ wishes. I knew it was over.’
‘But it didn’t have to be. Perhaps in time,’ she ventured quietly.
‘No, not even in time. The irony is that now they believe Isla loved me they wish I was their son-in-law.’
‘It makes me so angry. If I wasn’t married to Cecil . . .’
‘But you are.’
‘Perhaps I could . . .’
‘Audrey,’ he interrupted sternly. ‘I’m not going to ask anything of you now. I made that mistake before. Let’s just live for the moment like two leaves in the wind, going wherever it blows. Let’s not make any decisions or plans. I don’t want to lose you again.’
‘You won’t. Oh God, Louis, you won’t, I promise you.’
He held her close and kissed her, transforming into reality dreams worn thin over the long years of waiting. His kiss was tender and passionate and sad and they both recalled their conversation beneath the stars in the grounds of the Hurlingham Club, when struck by the transient beauty of the moment they were both overcome with a bittersweet sense of melancholia. But his kiss swept away the past twelve years and healed the pain of their parting and the subsequent years of loneliness and regret that had aged them before their time.
They galloped back to La Magdalena, their laughter carried on the wind so that birds seeking shade among the leaves of the tall plane trees flapped their wings and took to the sky and the ostriches scattered like feathers over the grassy plain. They relished the feeling of freedom as their ponies sped across the pampa and without thinking of tomorrow or dwelling on the regrets of yesterday they smiled without inhibition and shouted excitedly into the air.
Lunch was beneath the shade of a threadbare parasol on the terrace, looking out over the uninterrupted plains. El Chino displayed the barbecue that smouldered beneath the eucalyptus tree and his small brown eyes shone with pride. He had killed the cow that morning and the meat was tender and fresh, lying in neat rows on the grill. He bent over to tend to it and Audrey noticed the ornate knife tucked into his wide silver-coined belt and thought how wonderfully flamboyant the gauchos were. Gaitano handed her a round wooden plate and she chose a large slice of tender meat. ‘There’s enough food here for an army,’ she said as El Chino placed the piece on her plate accompanied by a thick chunk of toasted bread.
‘It’ll feed the gauchos and Costanza,’ Gaitano replied. ‘But I’m hoping you’ll come back for seconds. We’re very proud of our herds.’
‘Do you spend all your time out here?’ she asked.
‘I don’t go to the city these days. I’m too old and I have too many memories that I would like to forget. It’s quiet here and peaceful. Buenos Aires is fraught and I’m no longer a political animal. I gave that up long ago, thank the Lord. Politics brings nothing but unhappiness. Not only in this country. I opt for a simple life nowadays and I’m happy this way. Come and sit down and enjoy your food.’