Page 40 of The Lost Story of Sofia Castello

39

PORTUGAL, 2000

The next morning after a fitful sleep, I take a quick shower and hurry downstairs. I hear Sofia before I see her, violently whisking some eggs in a bowl.

‘Good morning. Everything OK?’ I ask cheerily, although inside I’m plagued by questions about what I saw last night. Is Sofia hiding things from me because she doesn’t trust me?

‘Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?’ she replies sharply. She’s still in her dressing gown and her face is completely bare of make-up, with dark shadows beneath her eyes.

‘No reason, it’s just that you seem to be beating those eggs to within an inch of their lives. Are you all right?’ I ask, gently placing my hand on the back of her shoulder. I need to make her feel safe, and that she doesn’t need to hide things from me.

‘Oh!’ She stops beating and gives an embarrassed laugh. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t sleep very well, so I guess I’m taking my frustration out on them.’

‘Well, rather them than me,’ I joke before going over to the table and pouring us both a glass of orange juice. ‘I’ve typed up all of yesterday’s recording, so I’m ready to carry on whenever you are,’ I say breezily, so I don’t seem like I’m pressuring her, even though I’m desperate to hear the next instalment.

‘Oh,’ she replies flatly before pouring the eggs into a pan on the stove. ‘I’m not sure if I’m in the right mood for it today, to be honest.’

Disappointment courses through me, coupled with panic. My instinct must be right. For some reason, she no longer trusts me. What if she decides to quit the project altogether? What if I never find out what happened? And then, even worse, what if I have to go back home? Perhaps I ought to let her know how much her story is affecting me? She might find it encouraging.

‘That’s a real shame. I enjoyed hearing about Trafalgar. Although it did make me a little wistful.’

‘Wistful for what?’ she says as she stirs the eggs, giving me a disbelievingly look over her shoulder.

‘For that kind of love.’

She slams her spoon on the counter. ‘That wasn’t love!’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I thought…’ Once again, I’m on the back foot, trying to think of something to say to make things better. ‘It sounded like you had such a powerful connection.’

She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again, and I notice her hands clenching into fists by her sides. ‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ she finally mutters before removing the eggs from the heat.

I watch as she opens a cupboard door and gazes inside. Then she goes over to the fridge and does the same, without taking anything out of either.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask softly.

‘I just feel a little unsettled.’ She gives me a weak smile. ‘All of this dredging up the past.’

I contemplate telling her that I saw her in the garden last night but quickly decide against it. She seems way too volatile, and I don’t want to push her. ‘We don’t have to do any more today. I could spend the day going over what I’ve written so far – and then if you like, I can show it to you.’ I wouldn’t normally show a client my rough first draft of their chapters, but maybe it would help her to see how powerful her story is, and that it needs telling.

She nods. ‘That might be for the best.’

‘Would it be OK for me to take another look at the suitcase of memorabilia? So that I can describe things like the gas mask in more detail.’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ She starts dishing up the eggs. ‘It’s in the living room where we left it.’

After we finish breakfast, Sofia goes for a walk on the beach and I take the suitcase up to my bedroom. Part of me is hoping that I’ll find some sort of clue as to why Trafalgar turned out to be such an unhappy memory for her. I root through the old newspapers and the card from Judith and the gasmask and clothes, and then I realise that the tin box is missing. Before I can give that any more thought, I hear the front door open.

‘ Ola , Sofia?’ I hear Gabriel call, and I relax. But then I see Sofia making her way back up the beach. If she comes home and finds Gabriel and I together again, she might freak out, especially given the mood she’s in, so I decide to stay silent and pretend I’m not here.

I listen to Gabriel moving about in the kitchen and then, thankfully, I hear the front door open and close again and all goes quiet. I creep downstairs into the hallway just to make sure and see that the kitchen is empty, but I notice a folded piece of paper propped against the jug of juice on the table. My curiosity getting the better of me, I go over and unfold the paper. There’s only one sentence, but of course it’s in Portuguese, so I can’t understand it. Then I see a word I know only too well – Lily. The note is about me.

I think back to the furtive conversations I’ve overheard between Sofia and Gabriel, and I get the strongest urge to translate it. Perhaps it will give me a clearer idea of what’s going on. I peer out of the kitchen window. Sofia hasn’t reached the garden yet. Hopefully I’ll have time to translate enough of it to work out what it means. I take the note and race upstairs to get my Portuguese dictionary. I manage to translate the key words, writing them down in English in my notebook. Sofia, We need to talk about Lily – urgently! G

I’m so stunned I forget to check to see if Sofia’s coming and I jump at the sound of the back door closing downstairs.

‘Lily!’ she calls from the kitchen. ‘Where are you? I’ve had a change of heart – I think we should continue with the book today.’

Shit! I look at Gabriel’s note. How on earth am I going to explain taking it upstairs? I can hardly say that he gave it to me.

‘OK great!’ I call back. ‘I’ll be down in a second.’

I start pacing the room, praying for inspiration. One thing’s for sure: I have to get the note back in the kitchen because it’s only a matter of time before Sofia sees Gabriel and he’ll ask her if she’s read it. I shove it in my pocket and gather up my tape recorder, notebook and pen.

I find Sofia in the kitchen, looking a lot better than she did before. The fresh sea air has clearly invigorated her, and her eyes are sparkling and her cheeks are rosy.

‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ she says as soon as I come into the room. ‘I told my problems to the sea, and it told me not to be so self-pitying.’ She gives a sad smile. ‘One thing no one really tells you about becoming older is how damn infuriating it can be.’

‘Infuriating?’ I ask, sitting down at the table, wondering if there’s any way I could slip the note back against the jug without her seeing.

She nods and comes and sits opposite me and pours herself a glass of juice, instantly putting paid to my plan. ‘Yes, when you realise that there’s nothing you can do with all of your regrets – there’s no time left to try to rectify them.’

I wonder what she means by this, and if it’s connected to Trafalgar. Before I can ask, I hear a cough from outside and, to my horror, I see Gabriel striding up the garden path.

‘It’s Gabriel!’ I squeak, hoping she doesn’t detect the panic in my voice.

‘Oh yes.’

I watch, heart racing, as she gets up and goes over to the door.

‘Did you get my note?’ Gabriel asks Sofia as soon as he sets foot in the kitchen. When he sees me, he smiles, but unlike yesterday on the beach, his smile looks slightly strained.

‘What note?’ Sofia asks.

Fingers trembling, I reach in my pocket for the note under the table and throw it onto the floor.

‘The note I left on the table.’ Gabriel looks at the table and frowns. He looks back at me and his frown deepens. ‘I put it by the jug.’

‘How strange.’ Sofia comes back to the table and looks at the jug. ‘I just had a drink and there was no sign of any note.’

Now they both stare at me. I shrug, hoping I don’t start to blush.

Sofia looks under the table. ‘Oh, hang on.’ She bends down and retrieves the note. ‘Is this it? It must have blown under in the breeze.’

I relax a little and watch as she unfolds it and starts to read. This should be interesting.

‘Oh.’ She shoots a glance at me, then looks at Gabriel. ‘Yes, some fish would be lovely,’ she replies in a fake-sounding voice.

Gabriel looks confused for a moment, then the penny obviously drops and he nods enthusiastically, as he obviously realises she’s making something up because I’m there.

‘OK, I’ll bring some later.’ He gives a sheepish smile, and I feel stupidly disappointed and embarrassed that I should have read so much into what happened between us on the beach. My embarrassment grows as it dawns on me that this might be the ‘urgent’ thing he wants to talk to her about. Is he going to tell her that he’s concerned I have a crush on him?

To make matters even worse, he mutters something to Sofia in Portuguese and she gives a brisk nod. What the hell is going on?

I stare at Sofia, and when she catches my gaze, she instantly looks away as if embarrassed.

‘Well, we’d better get back to our book writing,’ she says in a tone so falsely jolly it sounds really jarring. ‘Good luck with your fishing, Gabriel.’

‘OK. Thank you,’ he replies awkwardly before looking at me. ‘Good luck with your book.’

‘Thanks,’ I mutter but with zero enthusiasm.

Desperate to vent my frustration, I decide to email Jane.

‘I just have to catch up with some correspondence,’ I say to Sofia as Gabriel leaves. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

I go upstairs and connect to the internet. There’s a response from Jane waiting for me in my inbox.

Dear Lily,

I’m so glad to hear that my email helped and just wanted to check in with you that everything is OK after you said you’d had a trying day. Anything I can help with? Just let me know if you need me to go to bat for you…

All my love,

Jane

As soon as I read her words, I feel a surge of relief. Jane is so warm and kind-hearted, I sometimes forget that she’s also a formidable powerhouse of an agent, and on the rare occasion she’s had to ‘go to bat’ for me, due to a celebrity client messing me around or a publisher reneging on a clause in my contract, she’s a force to be reckoned with. As much as she was excited about this job, I feel certain she wouldn’t even be intimidated by Sofia Castello. As I click on reply, I can’t help smiling at the prospect.

Good morning, Jane!

Thanks so much for your email. No need to go to bat for me – yet at least – but things have got a little strange here. I really like Sofia, but I feel like she’s keeping something from me. I’ve no idea what it could be, but she’s been acting weirdly and hiding things from me. There’s a guy who lives locally, who’s kind of like her Man Friday, and I’ve caught them talking about me in Portuguese a couple of times about some kind of secret. I know I must sound really paranoid, but it’s all a little unsettling, especially as I’m so far from home. I hope you don’t mind me venting to you, but obviously I can’t say anything to her as I don’t want to jeopardise the job and you’re the only person I can talk to about this. No need to reply as I know there’s nothing you can do, but thank you for reading and for always being there!

Lots of love,

Lily

I press send, then reread the email Jane sent me about the butterfly breaking out of the chrysalis, and I feel a sense of determination growing inside of me. I’m not going to allow Gabriel and Sofia’s weird behaviour to intimidate me. I am strong and I am wise and I’m really experienced at my job. And I absolutely can be trusted. So I’m going to go downstairs and I’m going to coax Sofia’s story out of her even if it kills me.