Page 117 of The Seven Sisters

‘I’ve had a note this morning from a friend of mine. They are looking for young ladies to assemble at Igreja de Nossa Senhora da Glória do Outeiro, the church not far from your parents’ house. Senhor da Silva Costa, the engineer on theCristoproject, has decided he will decorate the statue with a soapstone mosaic. He’s looking for a large number of willing hands to stick the soapstone on the netting, triangle by triangle. It will be a long job, but from what my friend tells me, it will be performed by women from the best backgrounds. I have noticed you don’t seem to have many suitable female acquaintances in Rio. This would be the perfect way for you to make more friends.’

‘Yes, of course, I’d be glad to help,’ Bel agreed. ‘Especially as it’s for such a worthy cause and a project close to my heart.’

‘Then I will reply to her and say that you have volunteered. Perhaps you can begin tomorrow.’

‘Yes,’ said Bel as the maid served her coffee.

After breakfast, Bel took a walk around the gardens, deep in thought. At least the mosaic would give her something positive to spend her time doing, because here, it was obvious she was never going to be mistress of her own household. Even though Luiza had thrown her a bone by telling her how the household accounts ran, she continued to organise everything herself. If Bel made a suggestion for the dinner menu, it would be rejected, and when she’d attempted to ask yesterday if they could use the Limoges dinner service rather than the Wedgwood, she was told that it only came out for family celebrations such as birthdays and anniversaries.

Every day, Gustavo would disappear off to his club straight after lunch, which meant she spent endless hours of the afternoon alone. Her stomach gave a sudden lurch – so what was she going to do aboutthisafternoon?

By lunchtime, Bel was in a state of frenzy. At half past one, she called for the car.

‘Luiza,’ she said, when she found her writing letters in the drawing room, ‘I am off to see Madame Duchaine in the city. Loen will accompany me. I may be some time as she’s fitting me for my winter wardrobe.’

‘Well, I hear she’s very costly and her stitching can sometimes be clumsy. I can give you the name of another dressmaker who is far less expensive and very reliable.’

‘As a matter of fact, Madame Duchaine has always done an excellent job for me,’ Bel retorted. ‘I will see you at dinner, Luiza.’

Without waiting for her mother-in-law’s look of surprise that Bel had actually dared question her judgement, she walked towards the door and pinned on her hat.

Loen was already waiting there for her. ‘Well?’ she whispered as they walked towards the car.

‘I don’t know,’ she groaned.

‘Then we shall go to Madame Duchaine’s and if you decide to feign a headache, I will follow your lead,’ Loen said as they climbed into the car. The driver set off, Bel staring sightlessly out of the window, her heart pounding so hard against her chest she felt it might burst open.

When they arrived at Madame Duchaine’s, Bel and Loen climbed out of the car.

‘There’s no need for you to wait, Jorge,’ Bel told the driver. ‘I will be some time. Please return and collect me at six.’

‘Yes, senhora.’

She watched him pull away from the kerb, then entered the salon with Loen.

Ten minutes later, Bel found herself staring blankly at her reflection in the full-length mirror, her mind in turmoil, while Madame Duchaine fussed around her with a tape measure and pins. She was still in an agony of indecision, her stomach churning. If she didn’t make her mind up soon, it would be too late anyway.

Madame Duchaine stood up and moved behind Bel, surveying her handiwork in the mirror over Bel’s shoulder. As her beady eyes reached Bel’s face, she frowned.

‘Why, you do not look well at all, senhora. You are very pale. Are you perhaps sickening for something?’

‘I am feeling a little faint,’ Bel agreed.

‘Well, perhaps we should continue the fitting on another day? I think it may be best if you leave and take some rest,’ she said, surreptitiously eyeing her client’s stomach in the mirror.

In that split second, Bel caught Loen’s eye, and knew her decision had been made for her.

‘Yes, perhaps you’re right. I will telephone tomorrow to make another appointment. Come, Loen,’ she added to her maid. ‘We shall leave now.’

As the two women left the salon and emerged onto the street, Bel turned to Loen. ‘Well, this is it. I must be out of my mind, but I’m going to meet him. Wish me luck.’

‘Of course. Just be sure to meet me back here in time for the car to pick us up. And Senhora Bel,’ she added softly, ‘even if you decide you can never be with him again after today, I think you are making the right decision to see him.’

‘Thank you.’

Bel walked swiftly through the streets of Ipanema towards Rua Visconde de Pirajá. Twice she turned back in uncertainty, but then retraced her footsteps forward, until she found herself in front of Laurent’s apartment block.

Yes, she told herself.I will go inside, tell him in person that I can’t ever see him again, just as I did in Paris. And then I will leave.