Page 124 of The Seven Sisters

‘I . . . I don’t know. My mother is still refusing to tell my father,’ she murmured as she sat down abruptly in a chair.

‘Oh my Bel, how difficult things are for you just now. You’re still so young – not even at your twentieth birthday – and yet you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. This bad news has almost certainly made you look at your own life too.’

Bel wasn’t sure whether she felt patronised or comforted by his comment. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘It has.’

‘I’m guessing that you must also be in a quandary of guilt because of the news you’ve just had. Deciding whether this means that you should do your duty as a faithful wife and daughter and forget me. Or whether your sudden realisation of how short life really is means you should take advantage of the time you’ve been granted and live your life following your heart.’

Bel stared at him in surprise. ‘How could you know that is exactly what I have been thinking?’

‘Because I am a human being too,’ Laurent shrugged. ‘And I believe that the powers up above often throw us such dilemmas to make us fully aware of our situations. But it is onlywewho can ever make the decision as to what we should do.’

‘You are very wise,’ Bel commented quietly.

‘As I said, I am simply human. I am also a few years older than you and have been forced to make decisions in my past that have involved asking myself the same questions. I understand, and don’t wish to prejudice you either way. And I want to reassure you that if you wish me to stay with you here in Brazil during this difficult time, I will. Because I love you and I want to be here for you. I also understand that my love for you has made me a better person. There, I have learned a lesson too!’ Laurent smiled at her wryly. ‘But . . . I am still notcompletelyselfless. So if I stay, you would have to promise me that when the . . . situation with your mother is resolved, you and I will come to a decision on our future. But that is not for now. Come, let me hold you.’ Laurent opened his arms to her and she rose slowly and went into them.

‘I love you, my Bel,’ he said, as he stroked her hair tenderly. ‘And I am here if you need me.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied as she clung to him. ‘Thank you.’

*

As June turned to July, Bel returned home from an afternoon working on the soapstone mosaic at the Igreja da Glória to be informed by Loen that her father was waiting for her in the drawing room.

‘How does he seem?’ she asked Loen as she removed her hat and handed it to her.

‘He appears to have lost some weight,’ said Loen cautiously. ‘But you must see for yourself.’

Taking a deep breath, Bel opened the door to the drawing room and saw her father pacing the room. He turned as she walked in, and Bel saw that Antonio had indeed shed some pounds. But more than that, his handsome face was gaunt and tiny trails of lines had etched themselves onto his skin. His black wavy hair, which had previously contained only a sprinkling of silver around the temples, was now almost uniformly grey. Bel felt he had aged ten years since she had last set eyes upon him.

‘Princesa,’ he said, walking towards her and embracing her. ‘It seems so long since we last saw each other.’

‘Yes, it must be three months or so,’ Bel agreed.

‘Of course, you are a married woman with your own life now, and have no time for your old Pai,’ he joked lamely.

‘I have been at the house visiting Mãe many times in the past few weeks,’ countered Bel. ‘You have never been there. It seems it is you who is unavailable, Pai.’

‘Yes, I agree, I have been busy. As I’m sure your father-in-law has told you, the coffee business is very difficult at the moment.’

‘Well, I’m glad to see you today at least. Please’ – Bel gestured to a chair – ‘sit down and I will send for some refreshments.’

‘No, I don’t need anything,’ said Antonio, sitting down as his daughter had requested. ‘Izabela, what is wrong with your mother? On Sunday, she spent most of the day in bed. She said she had a migraine, as she has said many times before in the past few months.’

‘Pai, I . . .’

‘She’s ill again, isn’t she? I noticed over breakfast this morning that her skin has a terrible colour to it and that she ate nothing.’

Bel stared at her father for a while. ‘Pai, you’re saying that you haven’t seen these signs before now?’

‘I have been so busy at the office that often I leave before your mother rises and am not home until after she is in bed. But yes . . .’ Antonio hung his head. ‘Perhaps Ishouldhave seen, but didn’t wish to. So,’ he said with a sigh of despairing resignation, ‘do you know how sick she is?’

‘Yes, Pai. I do.’

‘Is it . . . ? Is it . . . ?’ Antonio couldn’t bring himself to utter the words.

‘Yes, it is,’ Bel confirmed.

Antonio stood up and hit his temple with his palm in anguish. ‘Meu Deus!Of course I should have seen! What kind of man am I? What kind of husband am I to my wife?’