‘Why was it so important to Sofia that she see him? Would she have gone away voluntarily before speaking with him?’
The watchfulness was back in Henrietta’s face, an indecision.
He waited.
‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘I don’t know what she wanted with him, only that it was desperately important to her. She feared something too terrible to share with any of the rest of us. She said it was for our own sakes.’
Ramon was frightened. He hid it well, but Pitt had seen fear too often not to know it with familiarity that tugged at him where he himself had known it. Old ghosts were back again from times he had thought forgotten. It was the fear of losing someone you trusted, of being left alone.
In that moment Pitt was certain Ramon had not hurt Sofia. But had he feared she would be attacked, even assassinated, and he had taken her against her will in order to save her life? She had not struck Pitt as a woman willing to be martyred if it were avoidable. She was far from finishing her preaching.
Why was he convinced of that? He might have imagined the hunger for life he thought he felt in her. She was completely alien to him in all her beliefs, attitudes, the very fibre of her life.
Then he realised he was wrong.
How many times had he rescued Charlotte from an impossible situation because she was on a crusade for some cause, and had taken a risk from which she could not escape? The passion was the same, the outrage at pain and injustice, the blind belief that she could and should do something about it.
‘Do you know why Señora Delacruz wished so much to speak with Mr Hall?’ Pitt asked. ‘He does not seem to me to be likely to change his opinions, or his judgement, and I don’t believe Señora Delacruz is naïve enough to think that he would.’
‘It was nothing to do with reconciliation,’ Ramon agreed quietly. ‘It was something she wished to help him with, or at least to try. She did not tell me what it was. She trusted me, but she did not wish me to know it, for my own protection.’
‘She was afraid of it?’ Pitt asked.
‘Yes. I think she was,’ Ramon admitted.
Pitt searched his face and saw no guile in it at all, not even the faint amusement at self-knowledge that Sofia may have been making excuses, because whatever it was did not fit with the honour he believed of her. Pitt had a sudden glimpse of the burden of living up to other people’s conception of your strength and honour, of unfailing courage. It would be instinctive to protect them from the reality you knew to be within yourself. It was surely right to do it with children – was this not what he was trying to do with Jemima – but what of the disillusion if Sofia’s words were hollow and her actions self-serving?
Where did you stop? When did you allow the first dream to be broken? Or did it just happen, and you tried afterwards to mend what you could?
Could Sofia have gone of her own accord, just to escape the weight of living up to everyone else’s unbearable need? He could understand that with a shiver that for a moment took his breath away.
‘Thank you,’ he said to Ramon. ‘You have given me an awareness of thoughts that had not occurred to me. Would she have gone away willingly before seeing Mr Hall?’
Ramon bit his lip and breathed in and out again several times before answering. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and there was no colour left in his face. ‘No, señor, she would not.’
Pitt was late home, after going through the threatening letters yet again. He still found himself disturbed by the anger in them, the hatred generated by those who professed to worship a God of universal mercy and a love for all mankind.
‘It’s fear,’ Charlotte said quietly. They were sitting in their usual chairs in the parlour, a brisk fire burning in the hearth, and the curtains drawn against the sudden, hard spring rain and the wind that drove it against the glass. Daniel was upstairs in his room,
The watchfulness was back in Henrietta’s face, an indecision.
He waited.
‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘I don’t know what she wanted with him, only that it was desperately important to her. She feared something too terrible to share with any of the rest of us. She said it was for our own sakes.’
Ramon was frightened. He hid it well, but Pitt had seen fear too often not to know it with familiarity that tugged at him where he himself had known it. Old ghosts were back again from times he had thought forgotten. It was the fear of losing someone you trusted, of being left alone.
In that moment Pitt was certain Ramon had not hurt Sofia. But had he feared she would be attacked, even assassinated, and he had taken her against her will in order to save her life? She had not struck Pitt as a woman willing to be martyred if it were avoidable. She was far from finishing her preaching.
Why was he convinced of that? He might have imagined the hunger for life he thought he felt in her. She was completely alien to him in all her beliefs, attitudes, the very fibre of her life.
Then he realised he was wrong.
How many times had he rescued Charlotte from an impossible situation because she was on a crusade for some cause, and had taken a risk from which she could not escape? The passion was the same, the outrage at pain and injustice, the blind belief that she could and should do something about it.
‘Do you know why Señora Delacruz wished so much to speak with Mr Hall?’ Pitt asked. ‘He does not seem to me to be likely to change his opinions, or his judgement, and I don’t believe Señora Delacruz is naïve enough to think that he would.’
‘It was nothing to do with reconciliation,’ Ramon agreed quietly. ‘It was something she wished to help him with, or at least to try. She did not tell me what it was. She trusted me, but she did not wish me to know it, for my own protection.’
‘She was afraid of it?’ Pitt asked.
‘Yes. I think she was,’ Ramon admitted.
Pitt searched his face and saw no guile in it at all, not even the faint amusement at self-knowledge that Sofia may have been making excuses, because whatever it was did not fit with the honour he believed of her. Pitt had a sudden glimpse of the burden of living up to other people’s conception of your strength and honour, of unfailing courage. It would be instinctive to protect them from the reality you knew to be within yourself. It was surely right to do it with children – was this not what he was trying to do with Jemima – but what of the disillusion if Sofia’s words were hollow and her actions self-serving?
Where did you stop? When did you allow the first dream to be broken? Or did it just happen, and you tried afterwards to mend what you could?
Could Sofia have gone of her own accord, just to escape the weight of living up to everyone else’s unbearable need? He could understand that with a shiver that for a moment took his breath away.
‘Thank you,’ he said to Ramon. ‘You have given me an awareness of thoughts that had not occurred to me. Would she have gone away willingly before seeing Mr Hall?’
Ramon bit his lip and breathed in and out again several times before answering. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and there was no colour left in his face. ‘No, señor, she would not.’
Pitt was late home, after going through the threatening letters yet again. He still found himself disturbed by the anger in them, the hatred generated by those who professed to worship a God of universal mercy and a love for all mankind.
‘It’s fear,’ Charlotte said quietly. They were sitting in their usual chairs in the parlour, a brisk fire burning in the hearth, and the curtains drawn against the sudden, hard spring rain and the wind that drove it against the glass. Daniel was upstairs in his room,
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