Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (68 page)

‘It wasn’t easy, you know,’ he said after a while, his eyes fixed on the route in front of them.

‘What wasn’t easy?’ she asked, confused.

He sat pondering for a moment, rocking up and down with the motion of the cart. ‘I love your mother. We’ve had bad times. You leaving and never coming back made her retreat into herself. I know she appears cold. She’s uncomfortable with herself. You made that insecurity worse.’

‘How do you mean?’ she asked, surprised.

‘She didn’t fit in - you did. Everyone loved you. She found it difficult to love.’

‘But she used to love me?’ asked Sofia, and then looked upon the words with amazement, as if she hadn’t said them.

‘She still does. But...’

‘Yes?’ She watched his profile and saw in it the expression of a man about to reveal some terrible secret.

‘I fear I am somewhat to blame for the . . . troubled relationship you have had with your mother,’ he said gravely. ‘I have wanted to tell you about it for a very long time.’

‘How could you be? You always saw my side. You were always there for me. In fact you over-indulged me most of the time.’

‘Sofia, when your mother was carrying you, things weren’t easy between us.’

He struggled to find the right words and Sofia sensed what was coming. Things were strained. I couldn’t cope. We were both very unhappy.’

‘You had an affair?’ Sofia interrupted. His shoulders dropped; he was relieved, probably, that she had saved him from having to say the words himself.

‘Yes,’ he replied, and she could see that his remorse still tormented him. This seems to be some sort of hideous family pattern, thought Sofia to herself. God, what am I doing?

‘When I fell in love with your mother,’ Paco continued, ‘I had never met anyone like her before. She was fresh, carefree - she had a naturalness about her that is difficult to describe. When I brought her to Argentina things began to change. She became someone else. I tried to hold on to her but she grew more and more distant. I found the person I had lost in the arms of another woman. She’s never recovered from that betrayal.’

They sat in heavy silence. Sofia began to realize then why they had been so harsh on her when she had committed her sexual misdemeanour. By punishing Sofia, her mother was punishing her father for having loved someone else. Her poor father was too entangled in his guilt to dissent.

‘How could she have blamed her child simply for having been born during a difficult time?’ asked Sofia. ‘I can’t believe she hated me because I reminded her of your infidelity.’

‘She never hated you, Sofia. She never hated you. She just found it difficult to bond with you. She tried. She was jealous of you because I loved you so unconditionally, as did your grandfather, Grandpa O’Dwyer. She felt you stole the two most important men in her life.’

The two most important men in Mama’s life were always Rafa and Agustin,’ she said sourly. ‘I don’t think she tried at all.’

‘She looks back on the past with deep regret.’

‘Really?’

‘She has longed for you to come home.’

‘I didn’t understand, Papa. I was a child when you sent me away. I felt so dejected. I didn’t want to turn my back on you all, but I felt you had all turned yours on me. I felt so guilty that I had got myself into such a mess. You were so disappointed. I thought it would hurt less if I never saw you both again.’

‘I’m sorry,
hija.
We can’t turn back the clock. If I could, I promise you I would pay all the money in the world. But we have to live with our mistakes, Sofia. I have lived heavily with mine.’

‘And me with mine,’ she said hoarsely, and looked out over those humid plains.

‘Shall I drop you off at Chiquita’s house? Then you can go and see Maria,' he said, turning the horses back in the direction of home.

Once they arrived at Chiquita’s house Sofia turned to her father. To her surprise she saw in his eyes that old familiar twinkle and for the first time since she had arrived, there was that easy unspoken communication between them. She had thought she would never feel it again. And yet as he smiled tenderly at her she found herself fighting her tears. When he touched her hand she felt she was once more a part of him. She reached forward and embraced him lovingly and without inhibition. And he held her close in the way he used to.

Sofia watched Paco as he turned the cart around and headed back into the trees. As a child she had believed her parents to be united by something greater than themselves. It was their divine right as children that their parents were there for them, and although her relationship with her mother was strained, she never once suspected that things might have been difficult between man and wife. In fact, she had never troubled herself to think about anyone else; she had always been too busy feeling sorry for herself.

It was very hot, the midday sun shone mercilessly down and she squinted in the glare. It was also very humid. Her skin felt sticky and uncomfortable. She would have welcomed a shower or a swim. She remembered as a child this heavy air building up for days, culminating in a fantastically dramatic storm. Storms in the
pampa
are uniquely terrifying. As a child Sofia believed the heavens to be thundering with the footsteps of a hundred grey monsters playing out a fearful celestial battle above her.

She entered the house. It was soothingly quiet and still in the cool shadows out of the sunshine. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Then she heard

the low hum of voices at the end of the corridor. She padded down towards Maria’s room. One of the doors on the right was open but she didn’t notice it until a firm hand grabbed her and pulled her inside. She caught her breath but before she could panic, Santi’s mouth was on hers, smothering any cry that might have escaped had he not silenced her. He half dragged her back into the darkness. She could hardly take the situation seriously but her laughter was muffled by his warm, sensuous mouth. He too was sweaty.

‘You said you were coming early - where have you been?’ he whispered into her ear.

‘I went for a ride in the
carro
with Papa,’ she replied and then laughed as he kissed her neck. That tickles.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you all morning,’ he said ardently. ‘You sure know how to tease!’

‘Santi, I didn’t do it to tease. Papa wanted me to join him. I’m really pleased I did.’

He ran his hands up her body under her dress. She squirmed with pleasure. ‘It went well then?’ he breathed into her hair.

‘I feel close to him again, Santi. He didn’t elaborate, typical Papa, but we understand each other again.’

He pulled her dress up to her waist and buried his face in her neck, pressing his hot body against hers. ‘I want you now, Chofi,’ he whispered, pushing her against the wall. It was cold against her back.

‘We can’t. Not under the same roof as Maria,’ she protested weakly.

His fingers traced her body with the urgency of someone who knows they may be discovered at any moment, yet finds the thrill of that possibility too alluring to resist. Those familiar hands found their way to her secret places, and overwhelmed by his touch she was no longer able to speak or dissent. The only sound was his deep breathing and the rustle of her dress. She felt wanton. Being sexually aroused makes one reckless; she didn’t care if anyone discovered them, for at that moment she wanted to cry out in delight. Santi made her feel young again. Vibrant, confident - the Sofia she had left behind with her memories. It felt exhilarating to be that person again. She writhed as his hands ran over her skin. He had a firm, shameless way of touching her body that she found unbearably arousing. He was excited by every part of her that made her a woman. He wanted to smell, taste and enjoy her in a way that was quite animal and blushingly uninhibited. As he made love to her against the wall nothing

else existed but that small room.

‘I can’t go and see Maria like this.' she whispered breathlessly once it was all over.

‘Shhhhh.’ He placed a hand on her mouth and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Footsteps. He pushed her against the wall without taking his eyes off hers. The footsteps came closer, lightly stepping down the corridor. Sofia hardly dared breathe. Her imagination had already conjured up the scene. The horror on the face of Claudia. The disappointment in the eyes of her father. Once more leaving in disgrace. Her heart hammered in terror. But the footsteps passed innocently by the door and continued out of earshot.

She fell limply against him. He breathed deeply and kissed her damp forehead.

‘Lucky.' he whispered.

‘O
Dios
, Santi. What are we doing?’

‘What we clearly shouldn’t be doing. Now let’s get out of here.’

‘But I want to see Maria.' she said truthfully. ‘I came to see Maria, you know.’

He smirked at her and shook his head fondly. ‘Well, you saw me instead.

God, you look a sight,’ he added lovingly. ‘You can’t be seen by anyone looking like that.’

‘Where shall we go? We’re bound to be seen by someone.’

He thought a while. ‘Look, you run into the bathroom and clean up - your hair’s all over the place. You look wonderfully sensual. I love you like that, but Maria will guess immediately. I’ll meet you in her room.’

‘Okay.’

‘Right, let’s check the coast is clear.’ But he stood unmoving.

‘Well, go on then,’ she said.

He held her face in his hands and kissed her again.

‘I don’t want to go. Look,’ he said, placing her hand on his trousers, ‘I could do it all over again.’

She laughed quietly onto his chest. ‘You fool, you can’t go out like that either - we’re stuck here!’ They both laughed uncontrollably at the absurdity of the situation. They were in danger of getting caught and ruining everything and yet all they could do was laugh like a couple of schoolchildren. Finally he edged his way to the door and peered out.

‘Come,’ he hissed at her. Together they tiptoed down the corridor holding

their breath, their laughter evaporated. As soon as they reached the next door she dived inside and into the safety of the bathroom. He walked on towards his sister’s room.

Once in the bathroom, Sofia leant back against the door and breathed again. She could still feel Santi’s hands on her body and her skin glowed with exhilaration. When she looked in the mirror she could see what Santi had meant. Her cheeks were red and her eyes sparkled. She looked louche and wanton. It gave her pleasure to see herself like that. She washed her face and tried as best she could to tidy herself up.

Maria was pleased to see her. Her brown eyes lit up when Sofia entered the room. Suddenly Sofia felt guilty that she had allowed herself to make love to Santi under the same roof as her dying cousin. It just didn’t seem right. She sensed Padre Julio wagging his bony finger at her from his gilded seat in the heavens.

Santi was sitting languidly in an armchair sipping a glass of wine; there was no guilt in his expression. Eduardo sat at the end of Maria’s bed. Claudia was nowhere to be seen, much to Sofia’s relief. She greeted Santi as if she hadn’t seen him since the day before. When she bent down to kiss him he squeezed her arm twice - that had always been a secret code between them. She squeezed him back.

Eduardo looked grey and in spite of his smile his eyes gave away his hopelessness. Her heart cried out for them both. How could she be enjoying Santi in the midst of so much sadness?

Maria was weak but happy. They all chatted together and no one mentioned her illness. They all wanted to hope that she was going to get better; no one wanted to face the harsh truth that she was slowing down. They talked about the children going back to school. Maria didn’t want them to go but it was better for them that their lives assumed some sense of normality. They would leave with Claudia and her children. Sofia caught Santi’s eye when Claudia’s name was mentioned and she could detect that he was as eager for their time alone together as she was.

Maria tired easily. When her eyes began to droop they decided to leave her to sleep and moved onto the terrace. Claudia was sitting neatly on the bench under the veranda with her daughter curled up against her like an affectionate dog. Sofia smiled stiffly at her, expecting a frosty reception. To her surprise,

the other woman’s eyes revealed an anxiety they hadn’t had before. She looked fearful. Claudia sat up and gently pushed her daughter off with a gesture. The others were all helping themselves to drinks and taking their time in coming out to join them. Sofia had to make some conversation with Claudia; it was unavoidable.

‘So,’ she deliberated, ‘you’re going back to Buenos Aires tonight.’

‘Yes,’ Claudia replied, lowering her eyes. There was an awkward pause during which Sofia shuffled about not knowing whether to stand or sit.

‘Which school do the children go to? San Andres?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ Claudia said unhelpfully.

‘I went there.’

‘I know, Santi told me.’

‘Right.’

‘Santi and I have a lovely relationship, he tells me everything,’ she said defensively.

‘I know. He told me how good you’ve been to him. You’ve made him very happy,’ Sofia enthused through gritted teeth.