Page 131 of The Seven Sisters
‘Nor has it been easy here without you.’
‘No, I am sorry,’ she offered.
‘Please, don’t apologise,’ he said hastily. ‘I am very happy you are back.’ He smiled tentatively. ‘I have missed you, Izabela.’
‘Thank you, Gustavo. Now, I must get ready for dinner, and so must you.’
He nodded at her, and made his way towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Bel walked to the window, observing that the qualities of the light had subtly altered since the seasons had changed. It was past seven o’clock in the evening, but the sun was only just starting to descend to the earth. Bel realised it was mid-October and the height of spring in Rio. Turning back towards the bed, still dazed by her realisation in the bath, she saw that Loen had laid out a dress that she rarely wore, due to its flowing design – Gustavo preferred his wife to wear clothes which defined her comely figure – and her eyes filled with tears at her maid’s thoughtfulness. Once dressed, she left Gustavo upstairs and walked down the stairs to the drawing room, preferring that option to facing her husband alone. As she reached the bottom, she eyed the front door, wishing with all her heart that she could open it and run now to Laurent. For there was no doubt in her mind that the child she carried inside her was his.
*
Over dinner that night, Bel realised that little had changed here since she’d been away. Luiza was still cold and patronising, hardly offering a word of sympathy for her loss. Maurício was a little more forthcoming, but spent most of the evening discussing the financial intricacies of Wall Street and something called the Dow Jones Index with Gustavo, which had apparently seen a mass selling of stocks last Thursday.
‘I thank God I decided to sell the stocks I held last month. I hope your father did the same,’ said Maurício. ‘Luckily, I didn’t have many to begin with. Never did trust those Yankees. They’re trying to shore up the market at the moment, hoping it will have settled over the weekend, but I doubt we’ve seen the worst yet. Long term, however, if the market does crash, it will have a devastating effect on our coffee industry. The demand from America, which accounts for most of our produce, is sure to fall like a stone. Especially with the mass overproduction Brazil has seen in the past few years,’ he added gloomily.
‘It seems a blessing that our family got out of the American markets when we did,’ said Luiza pointedly, shooting a glance at Bel. ‘I’ve always believed the avaricious get their just deserts sooner or later.’
Bel chanced a glance at her husband, who returned an unusually sympathetic smile at his mother’s inference.
‘We may no longer be rich, my dear, but at least we are stable,’ said her father-in-law neutrally in response.
On the way up to bed that evening, Bel turned to Gustavo.
‘How bad is this situation in America? Do you know? I’m obviously concerned for my father. What with him being out of Rio for the past week, he may not know much of any of this.’
‘As I’m sure you realise, I didn’t follow the markets previously,’ Gustavo admitted as he opened the door to their bedroom. ‘But from what my father says, and based on the facts that I’m only just beginning to understand, it’s very serious indeed.’
Bel went into the bathroom, her mind whirling with the events of the past few hours. She undressed and once again could not help but stare at the small but visible bump, still hoping she’d somehow been mistaken earlier. As she donned her nightgown, she simply had no idea what she should do. But the one thing shedidknow was that she couldn’t bear her husband to touch her tonight. Taking as long as she could with her ablutions, she left the bathroom, hoping and praying Gustavo would have fallen asleep. But he was lying in bed wide awake, watching her.
‘I’ve missed you, Izabela. Come to your husband.’
Climbing tentatively into bed beside him, a million excuses went through her mind. But not one of them was sufficient to give to a husband who’d been without his wife for the past two months.
She realised Gustavo was still staring at her.
‘Izabela, you look terrified. Do I frighten you that much?’
‘No, no . . . of course not.’
‘Querida, I understand that you are grieving and perhaps need some time before you are able to fully relax. So let me simply hold you.’
Gustavo’s words were a complete surprise to her. And, given the realisation of her current condition earlier, the pain of watching her mother die and the news over dinner of the situation in America, his empathy was enough to bring further tears to her eyes.
‘Please, Izabela, don’t be frightened of me. I promise I only wish to comfort you tonight,’ he reiterated as he reached to turn out the light.
She allowed Gustavo to pull her into his arms, and lay there on his chest, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. She felt his hand stroking her hair, and, as she thought of the tiny heartbeat inside her, her emotions see-sawed towards guilt.
‘While you were away, I had plenty of time to think,’ Gustavo said softly. ‘I remembered how we were when we first met, how we used to talk about art and culture and laugh together. But since we married, I feel we have been drifting apart, and I take a lot of responsibility for that. I understand I’ve been spending far too long at my club. Partly, if I’m honest, to get me out of this house. We both know the atmosphere is somewhat . . . austere.’
Bel lay in the dark listening to what he was saying, but decided to make no comment until he had finished.
‘But that again is my fault. I should have been firmer with my mother when I married you. Told her point-blank that you would now be running the household and that she must retire gracefully into the background to allow you to do so. Forgive me, Izabela, I have been weak and have not stood up for you, or for myself, when it was needed.’
‘Gustavo, it’s hardly your fault that Luiza dislikes me.’
‘I doubt it’syoushe dislikes,’ he replied bitterly. ‘She wouldn’t take to anyone who threatened her position in the household. She even suggested to me that, given the fact that you’d not yet managed to conceive a child since we were married, she could speak to the bishop and have our marriage annulled. On the grounds that we had obviously not shared intimate relations.’
