‘Not long . . .’ Bel’s voice quavered with emotion at his coldness. She steeled herself to ask Gustavo what she needed to. ‘She has requested that she be taken to the mountains to spend her last days at her belovedfazenda. Gustavo, would you let me accompany her?’
He stared at her with glazed eyes. ‘How long for?’
‘I don’t know. It could be weeks, or perhaps, God willing, two months.’
‘Would you be back by the beginning of the season?’
‘I . . .’ It was impossible for Bel to put a timescale on the final time she would spend with her mother merely to suit her husband. ‘I would think so, yes,’ she managed.
‘Well, I can hardly say no, can I? But of course, I would prefer you here by my side. Especially as there seems to be no heir so far, and this will delay the production of one further. My mother is getting most perturbed that you seem infertile,’ he said cruelly.
‘I apologise.’ Bel lowered her eyes, wanting to retort that the situation was hardlyherfault. It was at least two months since Gustavo had managed to successfully make love to her, although she accepted that he probably couldn’t remember the full extent of his ineptitude.
‘We will try tonight,’ he said, grabbing her suddenly and throwing her back onto the bed. With one movement, he was on top of her and clumsily pulling her nightgown up, then she felt his hardness poking and prodding to find where it needed to be, but failing to hit its target. His mouth descended on hers and she felt him moving against her, as though he thought he was inside her. As usual, she felt Gustavo’s weight fall more heavily on top of her as he finally moaned with relief before rolling off her. Bel felt the stickiness already congealing on her thighs and looked at him with a mixture of revulsion and pity.
‘Perhaps tonight we will finally have made a child,’ he said, before his breath was consumed by drunken snores.
Bel stood up and went to the bathroom to clean Gustavo from her skin. How he could possibly believe that the apology which had been their coupling could result in the miracle of a baby, Bel did not dare to question. Any slight aptitude he had once shown as a lover was lost – along with his memory of such events – in the mire of drunkenness.
However, she thought, as she made her way back to the bedroom, if what she had just endured was the price for leaving Rio to be with her mother until the end, then she was content to have paid it.
*
The following morning, Bel left Gustavo sleeping and went down for breakfast. Both Luiza and Maurício were at the table.
‘Good morning, Izabela,’ said Luiza.
‘Good morning, Luiza,’ Bel replied politely as she sat down.
‘Gustavo is not joining us?’
‘He will be down very soon, I’m sure,’ said Bel, wondering at her need to protect her husband from his mother.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Very well, thank you.’
Every morning, this was the beginning and end of the conversation, the rest of breakfast only punctuated by the odd grunt of pleasure or disapproval emanating from behind Maurício’s newspaper.
‘Luiza, I must tell you that my mother is extremely unwell,’ said Bel as she stirred her coffee. ‘In fact, it is very doubtful she will live to see another summer.’
‘I am sorry to hear that, Izabela,’ replied Luiza, a subtle raise of an eyebrow her only physical reaction to the news. ‘This is very sudden. Are you quite sure?’
‘Sadly, yes. I’ve known for some time, but my mother wished me to say nothing to anyone until she had to. That time has now come and she has requested that she spends her last days at ourfazenda. Which, as you know, is five hours’ journey from here. She has asked me to go with her and help nurse her to . . . the end. I spoke to Gustavo last night and he has agreed that I should go.’
‘Really?’ Luiza’s thin lips puckered in displeasure. ‘That is indeed generous of him. For exactly how long will you be away?’ she asked, voicing the same question as her son.
‘I . . .’ Bel could feel the tears beginning to rise in her eyes.
‘Surely, my dear, for as long as it takes,’ said a sudden voice from over his newspaper. Maurício gave her a nod of sympathy. ‘Please send my best wishes to your dear mother.’
‘Thank you,’ Bel whispered, feeling touched by her father-in-law’s sudden show of empathy and support. She took out a handkerchief and surreptitiously dabbed at her eyes.
‘Perhaps you can at least say when you will leave?’ Luiza demanded of her.
‘At the end of this week,’ Bel confirmed. ‘My father will accompany us and stay for a few days, but then, of course, he must return to his office in Rio.’
‘Yes,’ said Maurício gravely. ‘I can understand that things must be difficult for him at the moment. They are difficult for us all.’