Mariana sadly, lowering her head.
‘This is it,’ Helena replied, sighing heavily.
‘So when will you go?’ Ignacio asked bleakly.
Ramon looked at Helena. Helena shrugged and shook her head. ‘I don’t know yet. I suppose it will take a while to pack up our things. I’ll have to tell my parents. We’ll have to tell the children. I suppose we’ll leave as soon as we’re able to,’ she replied, then began to bite her nails with impatience. She wanted to leave right away.
‘Divorce will not be easy,’ said Mariana, thinking of the Catholic Church that prohibited it.
‘I know,’ Ramon replied. ‘We don’t want a divorce. We don’t want to marry anyone else. We just want to be free of each other.’
‘And I want to go home,’ said Helena, surprised that she and Ramon were at last agreeing on something.
Ramon thought of Estella and wished he could take her away with him. Helena thought of the shores of Polperro and felt herself getting nearer.
‘When are you going to break it to those dear little children?’ Mariana asked coldly. She thought their actions wholly selfish. Think very carefully before you do it,’ she warned. ‘You’ll hurt them beyond repair. I hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘We’ll tell them tomorrow, before we go back to Viña,’ said Helena resolutely, watching her husband warily. How far did she have to push him? she thought, his heart must be made of stone. Mariana pulled herself up from her chair and retreated sadly into the house. She suddenly looked old.
‘At least they’ll have their grandparents around to comfort them,’ Ramon said with bitterness, looking at his wife accusingly.
‘This isn’t my fault, Ramon,' she said in exasperation. ‘You’re the one who is refusing to change.’
‘It’s no one person’s fault, Helena,’ Ignacio interrupted. ‘It’s the fault of the both of you. But if that is what you want it’s the way it has to be. It’s life and life isn’t always a bed of roses.’ Ramon wished it were a bed of Estella’s roses. ‘Tell them tomorrow and be kind,’ he added, but he knew there was no gentle way to tell children that their parents no longer loved each other.
Helena was too emotional to sleep. She sat outside beneath the stars, devouring one cigarette after another, watching the smoke waff into the air on the breeze before being swallowed up by the night. She was deeply saddened and anxious about telling her beloved children, but she knew it couldn’t be avoided. It would have been crueller to pretend nothing was wrong. They’d suspect something in the end, or at least Federica would. She imagined her daughter’s innocent face and felt a stab of guilt penetrate her heart. She dropped her head into her hands and wept. She tried to convince herself that it would all be okay once they were settled in Polperro. They would be gathered up by her parents, whom Federica had met a few times and Hal only once. They would love England and make new friends. She thanked God she had always spoken English to them, at least that was one obstacle they wouldn’t have to overcome.
It must have been about one in the morning when she treaded softly down the corridor towards the room where her children were quietly sleeping. She crept in and watched their still bodies in the dim moonlight. They slept unaware of the earthquake that was going to shatter their lives on the morrow. She ran her white hand down Hal’s brown face and kissed him on his cheek. He stirred and smiled but didn’t wake up. Then she tiptoed over to where
Federica slept, her magical butterfly box on her bedside table where she could guard it, even in her sleep. She picked up the box and studied it without opening it for she didn’t want to wake them with the music. Her heart lurched when she recalled Federica’s happy face gazing up at her father in gratitude, holding his gift against her chest, treasuring it as much because it was from him as for the box itself.
‘This is it,’ Helena replied, sighing heavily.
‘So when will you go?’ Ignacio asked bleakly.
Ramon looked at Helena. Helena shrugged and shook her head. ‘I don’t know yet. I suppose it will take a while to pack up our things. I’ll have to tell my parents. We’ll have to tell the children. I suppose we’ll leave as soon as we’re able to,’ she replied, then began to bite her nails with impatience. She wanted to leave right away.
‘Divorce will not be easy,’ said Mariana, thinking of the Catholic Church that prohibited it.
‘I know,’ Ramon replied. ‘We don’t want a divorce. We don’t want to marry anyone else. We just want to be free of each other.’
‘And I want to go home,’ said Helena, surprised that she and Ramon were at last agreeing on something.
Ramon thought of Estella and wished he could take her away with him. Helena thought of the shores of Polperro and felt herself getting nearer.
‘When are you going to break it to those dear little children?’ Mariana asked coldly. She thought their actions wholly selfish. Think very carefully before you do it,’ she warned. ‘You’ll hurt them beyond repair. I hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘We’ll tell them tomorrow, before we go back to Viña,’ said Helena resolutely, watching her husband warily. How far did she have to push him? she thought, his heart must be made of stone. Mariana pulled herself up from her chair and retreated sadly into the house. She suddenly looked old.
‘At least they’ll have their grandparents around to comfort them,’ Ramon said with bitterness, looking at his wife accusingly.
‘This isn’t my fault, Ramon,' she said in exasperation. ‘You’re the one who is refusing to change.’
‘It’s no one person’s fault, Helena,’ Ignacio interrupted. ‘It’s the fault of the both of you. But if that is what you want it’s the way it has to be. It’s life and life isn’t always a bed of roses.’ Ramon wished it were a bed of Estella’s roses. ‘Tell them tomorrow and be kind,’ he added, but he knew there was no gentle way to tell children that their parents no longer loved each other.
Helena was too emotional to sleep. She sat outside beneath the stars, devouring one cigarette after another, watching the smoke waff into the air on the breeze before being swallowed up by the night. She was deeply saddened and anxious about telling her beloved children, but she knew it couldn’t be avoided. It would have been crueller to pretend nothing was wrong. They’d suspect something in the end, or at least Federica would. She imagined her daughter’s innocent face and felt a stab of guilt penetrate her heart. She dropped her head into her hands and wept. She tried to convince herself that it would all be okay once they were settled in Polperro. They would be gathered up by her parents, whom Federica had met a few times and Hal only once. They would love England and make new friends. She thanked God she had always spoken English to them, at least that was one obstacle they wouldn’t have to overcome.
It must have been about one in the morning when she treaded softly down the corridor towards the room where her children were quietly sleeping. She crept in and watched their still bodies in the dim moonlight. They slept unaware of the earthquake that was going to shatter their lives on the morrow. She ran her white hand down Hal’s brown face and kissed him on his cheek. He stirred and smiled but didn’t wake up. Then she tiptoed over to where
Federica slept, her magical butterfly box on her bedside table where she could guard it, even in her sleep. She picked up the box and studied it without opening it for she didn’t want to wake them with the music. Her heart lurched when she recalled Federica’s happy face gazing up at her father in gratitude, holding his gift against her chest, treasuring it as much because it was from him as for the box itself.
Similar Books
