Page 120 of The Seven Sisters
‘No, you don’t understand,’ she sighed, and rolled away from him onto her side. She felt his hand caress the soft contour of her hip, then slide into the valley of her waist. He pulled her towards him, so that they lay curved into each other’s bodies as one.
‘I know,ma chérie, I know. It’s a terrible, terrible mess. And we must both do all we can to shield your husband from it.’
As his hand moved upwards to cup her breast, she sighed with pleasure and wriggled luxuriantly against him. All thoughts of Gustavo were forgotten as Laurent made love to her again, and she was transported to realms of pleasure that she’d never visited before.
Afterwards, Bel too dozed contentedly until she jumped awake and saw the time.
‘Meu Deus!I must leave. My driver will be waiting for me at Madame Duchaine’s,’ she gasped in panic, scrambling out of the bed. She collected her clothes, which were either twisted in the sheets or strewn on the floor, and dressed as fast as she could. All the time, Laurent watched her quietly from the mattress.
‘When will I see you again?’ he asked.
‘Not tomorrow, for I must make an appearance at the church where I’m helping with the making of the mosaic for theCristo’s outer-self. But maybe on Monday?’ she said as she hurriedly tidied her hair, then pinned on her hat and moved towards the door.
Laurent was immediately by her side, encircling her in his arms.
‘I shall miss you, every second.’
Bel shivered as she felt his nakedness press against her. ‘And I you.’
‘Until then,ma chérie. I love you.’
Bel glanced at him one last time before walking out of the door.
38
Over the next few months, Bel floated through the days on a wave of heightened emotion. It was as if her life before that afternoon in February at Laurent’s apartment had been no more than a dull, grey existence without meaning. Now, when she woke up in the morning and lay thinking of Laurent, every part of her body tingled with adrenaline. The blue of the sky beyond her bedroom window seemed almost dazzling in its brightness and the flowers in the garden exploded before her eyes in an exotic kaleidoscope of colour.
As she walked down the stairs each morning to breakfast and took her place opposite the pinched, disapproving face of Luiza, she’d think of Laurent and allow a secret smile to form on her lips. Nothing could touch her, nobody could hurt her any longer. She was protected and inviolate, simply through the love the two of them shared.
However, when she was unable to visit him at his apartment for a few days, Bel would plummet down to the depths of despair, torturing herself with visions of where Laurent was, what he was doing and who he was with. An icy fear would beset her, freezing the blood in her veins and making her shiver, even though the burning sun still forced sweat onto her brow. The truth was that he was free to love anyone he chose. And she was not.
‘Mon Dieu, chérie,’ Laurent had sighed as they had lain together in his big mahogany bed a few days ago, ‘I admit I’m finding it harder and harder to share you. The thought ofhimtouching you at all sends shudders through me. Let alone in the way I just have,’ he’d added as his fingers lightly brushed her naked breast. ‘Run away with me, Bel. We’ll return to Paris. No more hiding, just endless hours filled with good wine, good food, talking, making love . . .’ His voice had trailed off in a whisper as his lips had covered hers.
Thankfully, at least, her mother-in-law had unwittingly played a part in keeping her lover near her for the time being. As she’d promised to, Luiza had introduced Laurent to many of her rich friends in Rio, who were shown Bel’s sculpture and wanted to immortalise their own family members in a similar fashion. Laurent was currently working on a commission of a chihuahua, beloved by its wealthy owners. In essence, her mother-in-law had become Laurent’s patron, and the irony was not lost on Bel.
‘Not exactly the kind of work I want to be doing,’ he’d admitted to her, ‘but it keeps me out of trouble when you’re not here.’
So, on the afternoons when Bel was unable to steal away, Laurent would chip away at the block of soapstone that Luiza had acquired for him from a mine-owning relative of hers. Luiza’s suggestion that Bel should volunteer to help clad theCristoin the thousands of mesh sheets of soapstone at the Igreja da Glória had provided a perfect alibi for her absence from the Casa. And as her own hands closed around the smooth, cool triangles of the same material that Laurent was working on, the feel of it would comfort her.
It was only Luiza who noticed her comings and goings to and from the Casa, as Gustavo was spending more and more time at his club and arriving home before dinner stinking of alcohol. Bel’s husband rarely enquired about her daily routine.
In fact, thought Bel as she put on her hat and Loen went to call Jorge, the family’s driver, these days Gustavo hardly noticed her at all. In the past four months since her affair with Laurent had begun, the attentiveness he’d shown her at the start of their marriage had disappeared completely. Although at night, as she joined Gustavo with trepidation in the bed they shared, he’d still attempt to make love to her, more often than not the process ended with him being unable to perform. Bel had deduced that this must be due to the fact that most of the time he could hardly stand upright before he climbed into bed. And on more than one occasion, he had passed out cold in the very act of trying to enter her. She’d roll him off her and would lie next to him, listening to his drunken snores and smelling the sourness of his breath, which seemed to permeate the bedroom. Most mornings, she’d be up, dressed and breakfasted before Gustavo had even woken.
If his parents noticed their son’s drinking problem, they did not allude to it. The only time Luiza probed her daughter-in-law about their marriage was to ask if there was any news of a grandchild yet. She would then sniff in displeasure when Bel assured her there was not.
Given her passionate physical relationship with Laurent, Bel was continually anxious that her body – which had not responded to Gustavo’s initial frenzied attempts to produce an heir – might succumb to Laurent’s gentle touch. And in fact, it had been her lover who had seen the worried frown creasing her forehead one afternoon and had explained to Bel how it was possible for her to attempt to avoid conceiving a child. He’d described to her the workings of her body in a way her mother never had, and told her how to watch and feel for the times when she was most likely to conceive.
‘It’s not fail-safe,chérie, which is why so many of us Catholics continue to have such large families.’ Laurent had smiled at her ruefully. ‘But there are ways that I can play my part too when you are in the danger time.’
Bel had looked at him in wonder. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘There are many artists like myself in Montparnasse who have wished to indulge in a little fun, but not end up being pursued by a woman claiming she is carrying our child.’ Laurent had seen her stricken face and moved quickly to put his arms around her and pull her to his chest. ‘Chérie, sadly, things are as they are for the present, and I would not like to see you compromised.Orany child of mine brought up by that excuse for a man that is your husband,’ he’d added. ‘So for now, we must take care.’
Bel left the Casa and climbed into the car, staring out of the window as Jorge drove her the short distance to her parents’ house in Cosme Velho. Due to the fact that any spare moments she could steal from the time she was away from the house were spent with Laurent, Bel had not seen her parents for over a month. And yesterday, Loen had asked her when she might next be visiting her mother.
‘Soon, soon,’ Bel had replied with a jolt of guilt.
‘I know you are . . . busy, but perhaps you should go and see her,’ Loen had said pointedly as she’d helped Bel into her dress. ‘My mother is worried about her.’
