The Forget-Me-Not Sonata(113)

They climbed into bed and lay entwined. She thought she would be nervous, she had only ever made love to her husband, but Louis’ touch was so familiar she felt as if she had been this intimate hundreds of times and that with each time it only got more loving.

His kiss was ardent yet tender and all the while he watched her with those faraway eyes that were no longer faraway to her for the world of dreams that he inhabited had embraced her too. Her senses were overwhelmed with the spicy scent of his skin, the rough sensation of his face and the feel of his body pressed tightly against hers as if wanting to dissolve through her and into her so that their souls could join together as one. She realized afterwards that she had never truly made love before. She had often enjoyed physical closeness to Cecil in a friendly sort of way, but it had never really been about love. Love was what had happened after the birth of her children. But with Louis she made love, bathed in it, smelt it, wrapped herself around it so that she became it. She had never in her life felt so cherished. Sex was no longer sexual but spiritual and she felt blessed that she had experienced physical love in its purest form. ‘It could always have been like this,’ she said as she lay against him, her hot body cooled by the breeze that swept in to witness their union  .

‘And it will be, I promise you,’ he replied, his fingers playing with the curls that spread out across her shoulders. In the rarefied air of their love they both believed it was possible.

In the weeks that followed they snatched moments together when Cecil was at work or asleep in his bed. They rode out across the pampa while Gaitano watched from the terrace. They danced across the sitting-room floor when Mercedes was too busy with Oscar to notice or even care and they played the piano as the evening shadows ate into the precious hours and filled them once again with that sweet melancholy, as familiar to them now as an old, trusted friend.

But as much as Audrey was dazed with love she was not blinded by it. She was aware that her husband was drinking too much. He’d arrive home in the evening with alcohol on his breath and reach for the decanter before even speaking. He no longer lingered at her bedroom door, gazing on her hopefully, ready to mend the cracks in their marriage or at least to forget in the darkness that they were there. He retreated to his study after dinner leaving his brother and his wife to play the piano together as if he knew he was being betrayed but didn’t have the will to confront them. And Audrey let it go on because she knew that the moment she spoke about it their marriage would be over. She longed to run off with Louis, but the twins would be home for the holidays in a few weeks. She would have to wait until they were back at school before she made any decisions. Louis didn’t press her or even ask her to discuss their future.

‘Let’s just live in the moment,’ he said. Audrey was only too happy to oblige.





Chapter 24



Cicely was sorry to see the twins return to the Argentine for Christmas. She had enjoyed having them for half-term and on the odd exeat weekend. Leonora had helped Panazel and Florien in the garden, planting bulbs and picking fruit while Alicia had insisted on bringing her friend Mattie, whom Cicely didn’t much like. She was an arrogant child and sulky. Alicia would disappear with her onto the farm and get up to God knows what kind of mischief. Cicely had once caught them tormenting Florien, not that she had minded, the boy was quite capable of looking after himself, but they made an unattractive duo. They had ignored Leonora most of the time and if it hadn’t been for the gypsies Cicely would have had to say something, but Leonora was quite happy playing in the caravans and listening to Masha’s stories. ‘I should like to be a gypsy,’ she had said. ‘I would love to live in a caravan and work in the garden all day. It’s a lovely life.’ Alicia and Mattie had scoffed, screwing up their pretty noses condescendingly.

‘You’re so simple,’ they had teased unkindly. ‘We’re going to make something of ourselves, be famous, not some silly gypsy watching the world go by in a muddy field!’ To Cicely’s amazement Leonora continued to look up to her sister with the kind of adoration that requests nothing in return. She didn’t seem to blame Alicia for her wickedness, although she was obviously hurt. She regained her composure with dignity then wagged her tail again like Barley.

Cicely had grown tremendously fond of Leonora. She was an endearing child and unspoiled, unlike her sister: as loving as Audrey was to her two daughters, she had unwittingly ruined Alicia. She had been born with all the physical advantages and yet Leonora had been given the greatest advantage of all, a beautiful nature. Cicely wasn’t that unhappy to see Alicia go, but when she looked out onto the garden to see only Panazel and his son pottering in the borders, her heart yearned for the plain little girl with the sensitive face and gentle smile who longed for nothing more than the simple life of a gypsy. Barley missed her too. He used to lie on the grass watching her in her muddy jeans and gumboots, waiting for her to take him on a long walk around the fields and woods. Now he seemed rootless, following Cicely instead but distinctly dissatisfied.