Read Online The Butterfly Box by Santa Montefiore - Free Book Online Page A

and wondered whether her father would remember his promise to take her to the beach with Rasta. She hoped he’d wake up and not spend all morning in bed, as he was apt to do. She skipped lightly down the stairs, through the hall and into the kitchen. Hal sat on the floor running his engine over the terracotta tiles, under the table and chairs, talking to himself and still making the noises of a train.
    Federica helped her mother lay up for breakfast in the dining room. When her father was at home they stopped eating in the kitchen, which was an English habit of Helena’s that she had never dropped, and ate like Chileans in the dining room. Lidia would arrive at ten to clean the house and cook the lunch.
    Ramon rarely went into the kitchen. He had grown up with staff, unlike Helena, whose family kitchen had been the very heart of her home.
    Ramon awoke to find himself alone in the strange bed. It took a moment for him to remember where he was and for the heavy feeling of his wife’s unhappiness to find him again. He cast his eyes to the window where the curtains danced with the cold breeze that came in off the Pacific bringing with it the damp sea mist. He didn’t want to get up. The atmosphere in the room was stiflingly oppressive. He wanted to cover his head with the sheets and imagine he was far away on the clouds, above the mist and the misery that hung dense upon the walls of the house like slime. He lay there with a sinking feeling in his chest, suppressing the impulse to get up, pack his bag and leave.
    Then he heard the gentle footsteps of his daughter. The sinking feeling turned to one of guilt and he peeped out over the sheets.
    ‘Are you awake, Papa?’ she asked. He saw her expectant face advance, her large blue eyes blinking at him hopefully. She treaded softly so as not to wake him if he was still sleeping. She moved slowly like a shy deer uncertain whether the animal in the bed was friend or foe. Ramon pulled the sheet down so that she could see he wasn’t sleeping. Her face lit up and she smiled broadly. ‘I’ve made you breakfast, Papa,’ she said and her cheeks shone proudly. ‘Can we go down to the beach, even though it’s misty?’
    ‘We can go to the beach right now,’ he said, brightening up at the idea of getting out of the house. ‘We’ll take Rasta with us. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then we’ll head off to Cachagua.’
    ‘Mama says it’ll be sunny by the time we get to Cachagua,’ she said, jumping from one foot to the other impatiently.
    While Ramon was in the bathroom Federica skipped around the room, opening the curtains and making the bed. She was used to looking after her mother, but looking after her father gave her more pleasure. It was a novelty. Ramon ate his breakfast for Federica’s sake. Hal had finished his and was playing quietly by himself in the nursery. His interest in his train far exceeded his interest in his father, whom he looked upon with suspicion because he sensed the strained atmosphere as all small children do. Helena sat at the table sipping a cup of black coffee. Ramon noticed her eyes were red and her face sapped of colour. He smiled at her politely, but she didn’t smile back until Federica bounced in with hot croissants. Only then did she sit up and make an effort to act as if everything were normal.
    After breakfast Ramon once again took Federica by the hand and led her down the road to the beach, the other hand holding onto Rasta’s leash. Federica no longer cared whether it was sunny or misty. She was with her father, just the two of them. She felt special and cherished and she hugged the butterfly box tightly against her chest. They took off their shoes, Ramon’s large brown explorer’s feet made Federica’s small pink ones look even smaller and more vulnerable. Together they walked up the beach, letting the sea catch their toes and cover them with foam. Ramon told her stories of the places he’d visited and the people he’d met and