Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (55 page)

‘You’re wicked,’ said Sofia who was clearly amused.

‘Not wicked. I’m doing them both a favour. Zaza needs an adventure. Tony needs a new Zaza. Zaza needs a new Zaza, believe me.’

‘I should watch my back,’ laughed Sofia.

‘Don’t worry, you’re not my type. You’re far too clever. No, you wouldn’t be any fun at all.’

While Sofia slept that night she dreamed. She was sitting up in her hospital

bed talking to Ariella and Zaza who were trying to convince her to leave David and join them in Provence. She was shaking her head, laughing, saying no she wouldn’t and they were laughing too, telling her how much she would love it. Then the door swung open and in walked a woman dressed in black. She was bent and crooked, resembling a crow, and she hobbled as she walked as if she were dragging a foot behind her. She smelt, for Ariella and Zaza recoiled, holding their noses before disappearing into nowhere. Then, suddenly, the woman was reaching into the cot and grabbing her child. Sofia was screaming, holding on to Honor, desperate not to let her go. The woman was so ugly and deformed she didn’t look like a human being at all, more like a bat. She was saying. ‘You promised to give up your child. You can’t change your mind now.' Then she turned into Elizabeth Harrison, staring at her with those watery, bulbous eyes that swam about in the sockets like oysters.

The nurse shook Sofia to wake her. She was very distressed, sweating and screaming for help. When she awoke she stared at the nurse with large, frightened eyes as she took a while to realize that she was, in fact, awake and not trapped within the nightmare.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Harrison? You were having a bad dream,’ the nurse

said compassionately.

‘I want my husband,’ sobbed Sofia. ‘I want to go home now.’

The following day David came to take Sofia home. Once more installed within the safe walls of Lowsley Sofia forgot about her dream and the strange witch who had tried to steal her child away. She sat by the fire with Sam and Quid wagging their thick tails, chatting happily to Hazel, the nurse, who was holding Honor in her arms, gently rocking her as she slept. David worked in the office next door and Sofia thought how pleasant it was that life had returned to normal. Then she cast her thoughts to Zaza and Tony and wondered whether life would ever be the same again for them.

Honor crawled around the dining-room table in the furry lion costume that Sofia had bought her at Hamleys, roaring fiercely at her friend Molly who ran ahead of her, squealing in mock terror. The other children who had come for Honor’s third birthday party were in the kitchen with Sofia, clinging shyly to their mothers’ legs. But Honor wasn’t afraid of anything. She would often disappear for ages only to be found by her anxious mother, lying tummy down on the grass, studying a caterpillar or a slug that happened to inspire her curiosity. She was fascinated by everything, especially nature, and confident that if she wandered off for long enough, her mother or nanny would eventually find her.

Today was a very special day, her mother had said. It was her birthday. She could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and often did at other people’s birthdays, but today she wouldn't have to sing it because all her friends would sing it to her. Then she could blow out the candles, something she loved doing, and often did on other children’s cakes, much to her mother’s embarrassment as the child would disintegrate into tears and matches would have to be found in

order to light the candles again. Today was a celebration of three years of joy that she had given Sofia and David as much as an excuse for their daughter to enjoy her own party with all her friends.

Sofia’s heart had expanded over the past three years like the universe. Grandpa O’Dwyer had always said that the purpose of life was to create more and more love. Sofia thought he’d be very proud of her as her heart was literally throbbing with it. She loved her daughter more with each dawn, more with each change that occurred as she grew and developed her own, very strong, personality. She’d spend long hours drawing with her, reading to her, taking her out across the fields for walks or sitting her on her small pony, Hedgehog, and leading her up and down the path which led to the woods. Honor was curious and fearless. She would carry her friend, Hoo, the blue silk hanky that David had given her, wherever she went and Hoo made her feel secure. If Hoo got lost the house had to be systematically searched until he appeared, usually behind a sofa or under a cushion, and was returned to his anxious friend who couldn’t sleep without him.

‘Honor!’ shouted Hazel as best she could, which wasn’t much at her age. She had arrived at Honor’s birth, hired for a month, but had ended up there for good after David and Sofia had begged her to stay on full-time. She had taken it as a compliment and agreed, having grown immensely fond of Honor and her parents in the short while she had known them.

She had later celebrated her decision when she had met the roguish Freddie Rattray, the widower who ran the stud farm with the help of his daughter Jaynie. Sofia called him Rattie, but Hazel couldn’t bring herself to be so informal although everyone else seemed to call him Rattie as well. To her he was Freddie, but only after he had begged her not to call him Mr Rattray. That makes me sound so old,’ he had said. ‘Freddie makes me feel that at least I’m only halfway over the hill. I don’t want to see the other side for a good many years.’

Hazel had laughed demurely, running a damp palm over her shiny white hair that was pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. She seemed to spend a lot of time taking Honor down to see the horses and often accompanied Freddie when he took the child for a walk on Hedgehog. Sofia, usually quick to detect a growing affection such as theirs, was too busy watching her daughter to notice the tender looks and flirtatious laughter that resounded from the stables.

‘Honor, tea-time!’ shouted Hazel, walking into the dining room to find the two girls skipping happily round and round as if imagining their own merry-go-round. She caught Honor as she galloped past and helped her out of her lion costume. Honor had specifically asked to wear a ‘pretty dress’ for her tea-party. Sofia had laughed at her early sense of occasion. ‘Now, let’s go and see what Mummy has made for tea,’ she said.

‘Chocolate Crispies!’ cried Honor, her blue eyes widening with glee.

‘Chocolate Crispies!’ copied Molly, stomping after her.

In the kitchen, Sofia was helping the other mothers seat their children. Johnny Longacre was crying, having been hit by Samuel Pettit, and Quid had already licked little Amber Hopkins’s face - which her mother considered extremely unhealthy. She was rushing about like a wasp trying to find a clean cloth with which to wipe the child’s face.

‘Honor, sweetheart, come and sit down,’ Sofia said calmly amid the chaos. ‘Look, aren’t those sandwiches clever? They're in the shape of butterflies.’

‘Can I have a Chocolate Crispie, please?’ Honor asked, stretching her hand out to take one.

‘No, not until you’ve had your Marmite sandwich,’ said Sofia, grimacing as

the smell of Marmite clung to her fingers.

‘Sofia, can you please remove your dog? He’s trying to eat Amber’s sandwich,’ said Amber’s mother in exasperation. Sofia asked Hazel to put Quid in the study, out of trouble. ‘You may as well put me there too,’ she laughed. ‘I’m in such deep trouble you can barely see me.’

‘Sofia, Joey didn’t get a marshmallow. There don’t seem to be any left. Marshmallows are his favourites,’ said Joey’s mother, her plain face creasing up apprehensively, afraid that her beloved boy might have to go without. Sofia thought she looked like one of the eggs that Honor drew faces on at breakfast.

Just then the kitchen door opened and in stepped Zaza, dressed in pale brown suede trousers and tweed jacket, her lips painted into a red scowl as she saw the kitchen full of screaming children and their over-anxious mothers.

‘Good God, what is going on in here?’ she gasped in horror when Sofia clambered over a howling child to greet her. ‘If these are Honor’s friends I just hope she gets more discerning as she grows older.’

Zaza, it turned out, had lasted six weeks in Provence with Ariella and later Alain. ‘I knew when I was no longer wanted,’ she had told David. ‘Alain was adorable, though very vague - he barely noticed us most of the time. Still,

Ariella’s besotted by him, and after I had served my purpose I left them to it and came home.’ Then Tony had told her that she had returned a much more interesting woman, whatever that meant, and he was considering sending her back for a refresher course the following year. Sofia had been pleased things had returned to normal. She had been surprised at how much she had missed Zaza.

This party is turning into a nightmare,’ Sofia sighed, watching the children stuffing themselves with chocolate. ‘One of them is going to throw up any minute, I just know it.’

‘Not over my suede trousers or I’ll wring his little neck,’ said Zaza, stepping back.

‘Why don’t you go and sit in the drawing room, it’s safer in there,’ suggested Sofia.

‘Actually, I came to tell you that Tony is throwing me a birthday party for my fiftieth this summer.’ Zaza smiled broadly. ‘I don’t know whether I should be celebrating or committing suicide - still, it’ll be a summer lunch-party and we’d love you both to come.’

‘Of course we’ll come. It’s not as though we have to go very far, is it?’ she

laughed.

‘Now if you don’t mind I might go and sit this one out. Come and find me when it’s all over, or at least when they’ve all washed their hands and faces.’

Back at the tea-party, Honor’s face was mottled with pieces of chocolate and cake. Her fair curly hair was studded with Smarties, put there by a sweetly enamoured Hugo Berrins, who was now flicking jelly at the other children, not so sweetly. Sofia rolled her eyes and leant back against the sideboard with Hazel.

‘Do you think Honor will ever look the same again?’ she said wearily. She had noticed she’s been feeling very tired recently.

Hazel smiled and placed her hands on her wide nurse’s hips. ‘If it weren’t for that little monkey,’ she said, pointing to Hugo Berrins, ‘she’d look as clean as if she’d just been bathed. I’ll take her straight up once they’ve all gone and wash it all away.’

‘She has enjoyed it, though, hasn’t she?’

‘She loves being the centre of attention. No one loves being adored more than Honor.’

‘Oh dear, I know where she gets that from,’ laughed Sofia wryly.

Finally the mothers wrapped their children in their heavy coats and led them out into the March evening, shouting to Sofia, ‘See you at school on Monday.’ Sofia waved them off, delighted to see them go and determined to do something different for Honor’s fourth birthday. ‘I don’t think I can cope with this again next year,’ she said to Hazel. ‘Perhaps we’ll just have a small tea-party.’

‘Oh, you’ll go through it again, Mrs Harrison. It always used to surprise me how mothers would put themselves through that sort of chaos year after year. But the little ones love it, don’t they?’ Hazel took a sleepy Honor by the hand and led her up the stairs to be bathed. Sofia kissed her little nose, which was the only part of her face not covered in chocolate and jelly, before crossing the hall in search of Zaza.

Zaza was beside the fire listening to music, smoking a cigarette and reading a book on Argentine
estancias.

‘What’s that?’ asked Sofia, sitting down beside her.

‘It’s a book called
Estancias Argentinas
- I thought you might like it,’ said Zaza.

‘Where did you get it?’

‘Eddie gave it to me. He’s just come back. He’s had a wonderful time

playing polo out there.’

‘Really,’ said Sofia impassively.

‘What a beautiful book. Was your house like these?’

‘Yes, exactly like those.’

‘You know, I think Eddie was playing with a friend of yours,’ said Zaza. ‘In fact I know he was, because Eddie said they talked about you. In fact, they’re over here now, in England. He’s a professional. He said he knew you.’

‘Who was that?’ asked Sofia, not sure that she wanted to know.

‘Roberto Lobito,’ replied Zaza, narrowing her eyes and watching for Sofia’s reaction. Eddie had said that Sofia had apparently had a scandalous affair with someone her parents had disapproved of and that is why she had left. She wondered who that man might have been. Sofia relaxed her shoulders and Zaza crossed Roberto Lobito off the list of suspects.

‘Oh, him,’ she said and chuckled. ‘He was always a good player, even then.’ ‘He’s married - an exquisitely beautiful woman. They’re over here now until the autumn, I believe. I hope you don’t mind but I asked them to my party.’ ‘Right,’ said Sofia. Zaza blew the smoke out of her nose then waved her hand in front of her to push it away from Sofia who hated cigarettes.

‘I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful woman than Eva Lobito,’ she sighed, taking another deep drag.

‘Eva Lobito?’ Sofia recalled Eva Alarcon from all those years ago and wondered if it was the same person. She had only ever known one Eva.

‘What does she look like?’ she asked curiously.

‘White-blonde hair - like an angel’s. Long face, olive skin. Pretty laugh. Very graceful, long legs, heavy English accent. Charming.’ There was no doubt about it, that description belonged exclusively to Eva Alarcon, and Sofia was going to see her again, and Roberto, after all these years. She knew that to see them would bring back happy memories, trailing in their wake that inevitable melancholia, but she was curious and her curiosity was stronger than her anxiety. She longed for the party like one longs for a drink, knowing the headache and sickness that will surely follow.