Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (20 page)

Santi could not believe that the beautiful Eva could fancy Agustin. He was mystified and furious. Agustin! It simply wasn’t possible. He squinted his eyes as he cast them over to the terrace where Sofia now sat cross-legged on the grass with Maria and Eva, their heads together like a trio of plotting witches. What is she up to? he thought, knowing better than to trust her.

‘He didn’t let on, I’m afraid. He’s keeping his cards very close to his chest,’ said Sofia later as she and Eva helped themselves from the buffet. ‘If I were you I would just wait for him to make a move. I can’t recommend anything else. He certainly wouldn’t like a woman to make the first move. You know men.’

‘Well, at least he didn’t say he didn’t like me,’ Eva said hopefully.

‘No, he didn’t say he didn’t like you,’ replied Sofia truthfully.

‘Thank you, Sofia, you’re a real friend.’ Eva kissed her on the cheek. Sofia felt a moment’s guilt, but then the feeling passed and she cut into her juicy
lomo
hungrily.

During the next few days Sofia watched Eva float around Santa Catalina like Snow White followed by the drooling dwarfs in the shape of Fernando, Agustin, Sebastian, Niquito and Angel. She noticed to her relief that since their conversation Santi had lost interest. He virtually ignored her. Even Eva had stopped talking about him as if she knew the battle was lost. Sofia basked in her victory.

As Eva’s holiday drained away Sofia began to see less and less of her. She would disappear for hours on horseback or go into town with Chiquita. She knew her way around now and began to entertain herself. Sofia was delighted. Her plot had worked. Not only had she deterred her from pursuing Santi but she had also somehow managed to avoid having to entertain her all week. She would have been more delighted if Santi hadn’t been equally elusive. However, he claimed to have been over on the neighbouring
estancia
hitting a polo ball around. Sofia supposed that he was angry with her for breaking the bad news to him about Eva’s secret romance with Agustin. He’ll get over it, she thought dismissively.

Eva’s last day was spent by the pool and on the tennis court. She said goodbye to the cousins before disappearing into the house to pack and change. Once she had gone, Santi sat down next to Sofia and secretly gave her a note sealed in a plain white envelope.

‘Chofi, please give this to Eva just before she goes,’ he requested.

‘What is it?’ she asked, turning it over in her hands curiously.

‘One last chance. Make sure Agustin doesn’t see, won’t you. He’ll kill me if he finds out.’

Sofia shrugged. ‘All right, if that’s what you want, but it won’t do you any good,’ she said and smiled at him sympathetically.

‘It might,’ he replied hopefully.

Sofia ran back to the house. She had just enough time to steam open the letter before Eva left for the airport. She rushed into the kitchen and boiled the kettle. Poor Santi, she thought, he hasn’t got a clue. She couldn’t imagine anyone fancying Agustin over Santi. It was just inconceivable. Still, she had convinced him. She chuckled to herself as the steam bellowed up against the seal, enabling her to carefully peel it back. Leaning against the counter she opened the neatly folded paper and read the short, handwritten message.

Next time, mind your own business, Chofi.

She was stunned. Blood flooded into her face until it throbbed with embarrassment. She read it again slowly. Again and again in disbelief. Then she tore it into tiny little pieces and threw it in the bin. She then paced the kitchen in panic, not knowing what to do next, not wanting to face Santi or Eva.

Finally she realized she had no choice but to walk out with her head held high and act as if nothing had happened. Eva was saying goodbye to Maria, who tearfully embraced her new friend and swapped telephone numbers and addresses. Sofia looked about for Santi but to her relief he wasn’t there. She smiled the smile of a good actress and hugged Eva, breathing in once again the fresh lemon smell of her cologne. She promised to spend the following summer holidays in Cachagua and to write often.

Suddenly, Santi strode out of the trees with a determined step. He walked past Sofia, pulled the delicate Eva into his arms and kissed her so ardently on her pretty pink lips that the other girls had to turn away in embarrassment. They held each other vigorously, the way lovers do when they don’t want to part. They kissed with the intimacy of two people familiar with each other’s bodies. Sofia felt the blood plummet from her head to her toes, and the world

spin about her. When they wrenched themselves apart, Eva climbed into the car and disappeared down the long avenue of trees. Santi waved until she was nothing more than a glint on the horizon, then he walked up to Sofia.

‘Don’t ever lie to me again,’ he said steadily. ‘Do you understand?’ Sofia opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out but air. She strained her neck to prevent the tears from falling and dared not blink in case one broke free and revealed her shame. Then he smiled at her and shook his head. ‘You’re very naughty, Chofi.’ He sighed, putting an arm around her neck fondly. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

When Santi broke the news at the end of the summer holiday that he was leaving to study in America for almost two years, Sofia fled the room in tears. Santi ran after her but she shouted at him to leave her alone. Fortunately, he knew better than to do as she asked and followed her out onto the terrace.

‘You’re going in a month? How come you didn’t tell me before?’ she said, turning on him angrily.

‘Because initially I was going to go in September when my courses start, but I want to travel for six months first and then for a few months afterwards. Anyhow, I knew you’d be upset.’

‘But I’m the last to know. I am, aren’t I?’ she sobbed crossly.

‘Yes, you are. I suppose. I don’t know. No one else is very interested,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders.

‘Two years?’ She wiped away the tears that made glistening tracks down her dusty cheeks.

‘Well, almost two years.’

‘How many months exactly?’ She sniffed.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, when do you come back?’

The summer after next. October, November - I’m not sure yet.’

‘Why can’t you study here like everyone else?’

‘Because Papa says it’s essential to live abroad. I’ll improve my English and get a good qualification.’

‘I’ll help you improve your English,’ she said meekly, smiling sadly through the blur that made him look like a fuzzy shadow.

Santi laughed. ‘That would be interesting,’ he mused.

‘Will you come back for the holidays?’ she asked hopefully.

‘I don’t know.’ He shrugged his shoulders again. ‘I want to travel and see the world. I’ll probably spend the holidays travelling.’

‘You mean not even for Christmas?’ she gasped, suddenly feeling empty inside at the prospect of living two years without him.

‘I don’t know. Probably not. Mama and Papa will come and see me in America.’ He watched his cousin sink onto the floor and almost cry a puddle onto the paving stones. ‘Chofi, I’ll come back. Two years isn’t such a long time,’ he said softly, surprised at the violence of her reaction.

‘It is. It’s for ever,’ she stammered. ‘What if you fall in love and marry an American? I might never see you again.’

Santi laughed and placed an arm around her, pulling her against him. Sofia closed her eyes and wished that he loved her like she loved him, then he wouldn’t go away and leave her.

‘I’m hardly going to get married at eighteen, am I? That’s silly. Anyway, I’ll marry an Argentine. You don’t think I’d leave Argentina for ever, do you?’

Sofia shook her head. ‘I don't know. I don’t want to lose you. I’m going to be stuck here with Agustin and Fercho with no one to defend me. They’ll probably stop me playing polo altogether now.’ She sniffed and nuzzled her face into his neck. He smelt of ponies and that musty male smell that made her want to stick her tongue out and lick his skin.

‘I’ll write to you,’ he suggested.

‘You promise?’

‘I promise. Long, long letters. I’ll tell you everything. And you must write to me and tell me everything, too.’

‘I’ll write every week,’ she replied resolutely.

Sitting there in his arms she realized that her feelings had gone beyond the

affection one might feel for a brother, even a special one, and trespassed into something much deeper and forbidden. She loved him. She hadn’t really sat down and thought about it before, but with the scent of his body clinging to her nostrils, with the feel of his skin against hers and his breath on her forehead she knew that the reasons for her possessiveness were because she loved him. She didn’t just fancy him - she loved him. Yes, she loved him with all her heart and soul. Now she understood.

For a frightening moment she almost lost herself and told him. But she knew it was wrong. She also knew that he loved her like a sister so there was no point revealing to him her dark longing when it would only bewilder him or at worst send him running in the opposite direction. So she sat pressed against him and he remained ignorant of the force that sent her heart pounding into her ribs like a maddened bird throwing itself against its cage in its barely restrained yearning to fly out and sing.

Santi returned to his house pale and confused and told Maria how upset Sofia was that he was leaving. ‘She was in tears. I couldn’t believe it. She was shattered,’ he related in bewilderment. ‘I knew she’d be upset, but I had no idea she’d be
that
upset. When I left her she just ran off.’

Maria immediately rushed over to find her cousin and bumped right into Dermot playing croquet with Antonio, Soledad's husband who maintained the estate. When she told him why his granddaughter had taken flight he put down his mallet and lit his pipe. Dermot loved his granddaughter with an intensity that he had once felt for his own daughter. To him she was more radiant than the sun. When he had arrived in Argentina after the death of his wife it had been little Sofia who had kept him from yearning to join her. ‘She’s an angel in disguise,’ he would say, ‘one of God’s little angels.’

Grandpa O’Dwyer drove up to the ombu tree in the
carro
with Antonio at the reins. He felt more comfortable with Antonio and Jose than he did with his daughter’s adopted family, in spite of his inability to communicate in anything else but gesture. Sofia was sitting at the top of the tree with her head in her hands. When she saw her grandfather step unsteadily down from the cart she put her head in her hands again and cried even louder for his benefit. He stood at the foot of the tree and called at her to come down.

‘Nothing will come of crying, Sofia Melody,’ he said, puffing on his pipe. She thought about it a while and then slowly descended. When she reached the bottom they both sat down on the grass in the gentle morning sunshine. ‘So,

young Santiago is going to America.’

‘He’s leaving me,’ she moaned. ‘I was the last person to know.’

‘He’ll come back,’ he said kindly.

‘But he’s going for two years. Two years! How will I live without him?’

‘You will,’ he said sadly, remembering his lovely wife. ‘You will because you have to.’

‘Oh Grandpa, I’ll die without Santi.’

Grandpa O’Dwyer puffed lazily on his pipe and watched the smoke waft up and dissolve into the air. ‘I hope yer mother doesn’t know about this,’ he said seriously.

‘Of course not.’

‘I don’t think she’d be very pleased. You’d heap a whole lot of trouble on yer young shoulders if she were to find out.’

‘What’s wrong with loving someone?’ she asked defiantly.

Grandpa O’Dwyer’s mouth curled up at the corners. ‘Santiago’s not someone, Sofia Melody - he’s yer first cousin.’

‘So what?’

‘So a lot,’ he replied simply.

‘Well, it’s our secret now.’

‘Like my liquor,’ he chuckled, licking his pale lips.

‘Exactly,’ agreed Sofia. ‘Oh Grandpa, I want to die!’

‘When I was yer age I loved a beautiful girl, just like you. She meant the world to me, but she disappeared to London for three years. Now Santiago’s only going for two. But I knew that one day, if I waited, she’d come back to me. Because do yer know something, Sofia Melody?’

‘What?’ she asked sulkily.

‘Everything comes to those who wait.’

‘No, it doesn’t.’

‘Have yer ever tried?’

‘I haven’t had to.’

‘Well, I waited. And do yer know what happened?’

‘She came back, fell in love with you, and married you. Right?’

‘Wrong!’ Sofia raised her head curiously. ‘She came back and I realized that suddenly I didn’t want her no more.’

‘Grandpa!’ she laughed. ‘What did you say comes to those who wait?’ ‘Wisdom. Time gives you the opportunity to stand back and be objective.

Wisdom doesn’t always bring the expected or it wouldn’t be worth the wait, would it, if you already knew what it was going to tell you? Those years of waiting gave me wisdom. When she came back I chose not to have her. I had learned that she wasn’t the girl for me after all. Lucky for you I didn’t marry her because then I would never have married yer grandmother.’