Page 113 of The Seven Sisters
When they arrived back at the house, Carla asked her if she wanted to come in for some refreshment, but Bel declined and told her driver she must go straight home. She needed some time alone to collect herself, and she knew if she stayed with her mother, she might give herself away.
How can he be here? Why has he come?
But of course, Laurent had been with Senhor Levy, so she could only presume he’d been sent by Landowski as his envoy to oversee theCristoproject for him.
Yes, thought Bel, climbing out of the car and walking reluctantly up the front steps, that was it. Laurent’s presence in Rio was nothing more mysterious than that. She made her way straight upstairs to her bedroom, knowing that Gustavo wouldn’t be home from his club for at least a couple of hours and feeling relieved at the prospect.
Lying on the bed, Bel breathed deeply and tried to think rationally. The chances were that she would never set eyes on him here. It was unlikely their paths would cross in Rio, as the engineer Senhor Levy was not part of their social circle and Heitor da Silva Costa was still in Paris. It was simply a cruel twist of fate that she’d seen him today. And with all her heart, as she remembered the sweet smile he’d given her as they’d stared at each other for that split second, she wished she hadn’t.
*
The following evening, Gustavo arrived home early from his club and told her she was not to enter the drawing room until he gave the word. She could see from his expression that whatever it was he’d bought her as a wedding gift had pleased him. She prepared to show her appreciation for whatever it might be.
‘Your parents are joining us for dinner tonight, as well as another surprise guest, so put on your most beautiful gown,’ her husband suggested.
*
Laurent too had been moved and unsettled by his glimpse of Izabela standing in the viewing pavilion. The sun had been behind her as he had looked up, which had made her appear almost angelic; her whole being lit up. In the days since he’d heard from Levy of her wedding, the excitement he’d felt when he first arrived in Rio had been tempered with misery. He’d decided the best thing he could do was to view the construction project as soon as possible, so at least he could tell Landowski all was looking well for his sculpture. Then he would also see a little more of the land he’d travelled so far to reach, and afterwards, return home to France. Now he knew for certain Izabela could never be his, there was nothing here for him. He’d berated himself for his impetuous decision to board the ship in the first place. However, he had stayed for the past month, fuelled by the knowledge that at some point Izabela would return to Rio from her honeymoon, and by a blind belief that they would meet by chance.
And then yesterday, Monsieur Levy had told him that Monsieur da Silva Costa had contacted him, asking for Laurent’s telephone number.
‘It seems Gustavo Aires Cabral would like to meet the sculptor of his wife in person. He’s invited you to dinner at their beautiful house tomorrow evening. I believe he also wishes to pay you,’ Levy had added. ‘He will call you to make the arrangements in due course.’
‘Thank you.’
Laurent had decided initially that he would of course refuse the dinner offer, and arrange to meet the man at his club in Rio to receive payment for the sculpture. Izabela’s husband was hardly a person with whom he wished to become acquainted.
But then yesterday afternoon he’d seen her . . .
Now, after endless debates with himself, he’d decided – whether the husband was there or not – that he’d allow himself an evening when he would have the pleasure of gazing at her beautiful face once more. So when Monsieur Aires Cabral had called him, he accepted the invitation to attend the dinner.
As the taxi drove through the streets of Ipanema and out of the hecticness of the city into the suburbs, Laurent wondered now what on earth had possessed him. Surely, spending hours in her presence was suicide for his heart? It would only reignite his passion further. However, he thought, as the car turned into the long drive of an elegant colonial-style house, he was here now and would simply have to make the best of it.
Laurent climbed out of the taxi, paid the driver and stood staring up in wonder at the facade of the building, which was certainly one of the most impressive he’d seen in Rio so far. He mounted the wide marble steps to the gracious front door and rang the bell.
It was opened by a maid, and he was ushered into a drawing room, already occupied by two middle-aged couples. In the corner of the room, draped with a tablecloth to hide it from view, was what he recognised from the shape as his sculpture.
‘Ah, you have arrived!’ said a thin man with features that reminded him of a rodent as he entered the room behind him. ‘The sculptor himself!’ He smiled and held out his pale hand. ‘Gustavo Aires Cabral. And you must be Senhor Laurent Brouilly.’
‘Yes. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, senhor,’ he replied, noticing that the man’s handshake was rather weak and that he stood at least four inches below Laurent in height. Surely, he thought, as Gustavo guided him over to introduce him to the other occupants of the room, this scrawny, unattractive man could not be Izabela’s new husband?
‘Champagne, senhor?’ asked a maid, offering him a glass from a tray.
‘Merci,’ he said as he shook hands with Gustavo’s parents, and was then introduced to Izabela’s mother and father.
Antonio Bonifacio, a tall, attractive man, with flecks of grey appearing in his black hair, shook his hand heartily, and Carla gave him a warm smile. She was a beautiful woman and Laurent could see where Izabela had inherited her dark, sultry looks from. Neither of them could speak French, so Gustavo translated for them both.
‘Senhor Bonifacio says that Izabela has told him so much about Professor Landowski and the time she spent in theatelierwhile you sculpted her. He waits to see if you have captured her beauty well enough,’ said Gustavo.
‘I can only hope you think I’ve done your daughter justice, senhor,’ Laurent replied, feeling the mother’s eyes upon him, assessing him as he spoke. He recognised her as the woman who’d been with Izabela yesterday on the top of Corcovado Mountain.
‘Senhora Carla says that of course, Izabela doesn’t know anything about either the sculpture being here, or you,’ said Gustavo, ‘and that it will be a big surprise for her when she comes down to join us.’
‘It certainly will,’ Laurent replied with feeling.
*
‘Are you ready?’ said Gustavo, entering the bedroom and finding Bel sitting on the bed looking pensive.
