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Authors: Santa Montefiore

Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (52 page)

BOOK: Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree
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‘And David really has vowed never to see him again?’

‘It’s over,’ she replied and ran a finger across her neck in a mock execution.

‘Over.’ She laughed. ‘Ariella came to pick up her paintings last week and stayed not just for tea but for the whole night. We talked and talked, I didn’t want her to leave.’ She watched Zaza squirm.

‘And David?’

‘Let bygones be bygones.’

‘Quite incredible. Incredible.’ She sighed, chipping off a piece of scarlet nail varnish that had begun to peel. ‘You are eccentric, both of you.’

‘Oh goodness, look at the time. I’ve got an appointment before meeting David at the office at four,’ said Sofia, looking at her watch. ‘I really must be going.’

‘What’s the appointment for?’ asked Zaza, then checked herself. ‘I mean, you’re all right, aren’t you?’

‘Oh yes, fine. Just the routine dentist and hygienist,’ Sofia said nonchalantly.

‘Okay. Give David my love,’ said Zaza, scrutinizing Sofia from beneath her heavy green eyelids. Dentist my ass, she thought to herself. She wondered whether it might really have something to do with a certain gynaecologist.

Sofia arrived at David’s office at four-thirty. She was trembling and pale yet she smiled with the restraint of someone with an enchanting secret. The secretary swiftly put the telephone down on her boyfriend and greeted the boss’s wife enthusiastically. Sofia didn’t wait to be announced but walked straight into her husband’s office. He looked up from his desk. Sofia leant back against the door and smiled at him.

‘Oh God, you are,’ he said slowly, his face crumpling into an anxious grin. ‘You really are? Please tell me you really are.’ He removed his glasses with a shaking hand.

‘I am,’ she told him and laughed. ‘I don’t know what to do with myself.’

‘Oh, I do,’ he said, springing to his feet and striding over to her. He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly against him. ‘I hope it’s a little girl,’ he breathed into her neck. ‘A miniature Sofia.’

‘God forbid,’ she giggled.

‘I can’t believe it,’ he sighed, pulling away from her and placing his large hand on her belly. ‘There’s a little human being in there, growing a bit every day.’

‘We can’t tell anyone for a couple of months - just in case,’ she cautioned him. Then she remembered the expression on Zaza’s face. ‘I had lunch with Zaza at her house. I pretended I had to go to the dentist. But you know Zaza. I

think she’s a little suspicious.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll fend her off,’ he said, kissing her forehead.

‘I would like to tell Dominique, though.’

‘Very good idea. You must tell anyone you like.’

Sofia didn’t suffer the usual morning sickness. In fact, to her surprise she felt incredibly well and boisterous. David flustered around her not really knowing how to cope but wanting to be involved and supportive. Where her last pregnancy had been a miserable experience, this time was altogether different. She felt so full of joy that Santiguito’s memory receded into the mists of her mind. David spoiled her with attention. He bought her so many gifts that after a few weeks she had to tell him not to buy any more as she was running out of places in the house to put them. She talked to Dominique every day, and the latter promised to come over at least once a month.

After the couple’s three-month silence was broken, Sofia was besieged by vans full of flowers and gifts from excited friends and relations of David’s. As she was unable to ride in her condition Sofia took up the piano again, taking lessons three times a week with a lively octogenarian whose face reminded her of a tortoise. She made regular visits to her gynaecologist in London and spent hundreds of pounds on items for her baby that she simply couldn’t do without. Certain that she was going to have a girl she chose the most feminine things she could find and asked Ariella to paint all the Winnie-the-Pooh characters skipping across the walls of the baby’s bedroom. ‘I want it to be a light, happy room,’ she said. Ariella's artistry was such a success that she ignited a trend that took her all over Gloucestershire with her paintbrush and E.H. Shepard’s illustrations to copy.

In February an exuberant Zaza arrived for tea with a carload of her children’s old baby clothes. She sat down on the sofa as near as possible to the fire and lit a cigarette with a gleaming silver lighter that Tony had given her for Christmas.

‘Darling, it’s so cold in this house. What’s happened to your heating?’ she complained, shivering.

‘I’m boiling hot all the time. I think it’s all part of being pregnant,’ said Sofia, who sat perfectly comfortably in a sleeveless polo-neck.

‘It might very well be, but what about the rest of us? Really, I’m surprised David doesn’t put his foot down.’

‘David’s an angel. He had to run out last Sunday and get me a jar of olives. I

had a terrible craving. I just had to have them.’

‘Yuck, I’ve never much liked olives. How ghastly,’ Zaza grimaced. ‘Now, let’s open this case and I shall show you my booty. No darling, not you. You sit where you are and let me do the heavy work,’ she added bossily when Sofia tried to help lift it onto the coffee-table. Zaza unzipped it with care, holding the zipper between the pad of her thumb and the knuckle of her forefinger to avoid breaking a nail.

These were Nick’s,’ she said, holding up a pair of red velvet trousers. ‘Adorable, don’t you think?’

‘Perfect for a two-year-old boy,’ laughed Sofia.This is going to be a girl.’ She placed a hand on her swollen belly.

‘You don’t know,’ said Zaza. ‘That lump looks like a boy. I remember, mine was that shape when I had Eddie. Dear little thing he was.’

‘No, I know it’s going to be a girl. I sense it.’

‘Whatever it is, as long as it has ten fingers and ten toes it really doesn’t matter.’

‘It does to me,’ Sofia said, wishing silently for a girl. This is sweet,’ she added, pulling out a tiny white dress. ‘Now this
is
for a baby girl.’

That was Angela’s. So pretty. Of course, they grow out of these things far too quickly.’

‘You’re very kind to lend them to me,’ said Sofia, holding a miniature pair of blue shoes.

‘Don’t be silly. I’m not
lending
them to you - I’m giving them to you. I don’t need them any more.’

‘What about Angela? She may need them one day.’

‘God - Angela!’ she huffed. ‘She’s going through that hideous adolescent stage. She says she doesn’t like men and that she’s in love with a girl called Mandy.’

‘She’s probably only doing it to irritate you,’ said Sofia knowingly.

‘Well, it’s working. Not that I’m worried about Mandy.’

‘You’re not?’

‘No, I’ve fancied women in my time - not that I’ve touched one since school. But Angela’s so moody with it. She’s rude and disrespectful, spends all our money and then asks for more, as if the world owes her a living. Or at least that we do. Give me ten Eddies any day. The rate Angela’s going, she won’t be needing these,’ she said, stuffing her red talons into a couple of knitted

bootees. ‘No, I’m relying on Eddie to one day make me a granny, but not for many years, I hope. I’m really far too young and glamorous to be a granny. Seen Ariella lately?’

‘Not for a while, she’s busy painting.’

‘That room is something of a wonder to behold. She’s very talented,’ said Zaza, raising her thin eyebrows and nodding in admiration.

‘She’s coming for the last weekend in March,’ Sofia informed her. ‘Why don’t you and Tony come too? David would love to have you both. I’ve got my surrogate parents, Dominique and Antoine coming over as well. It’ll be great fun. You’d adore Dominique.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Ariella and I never did get on. I’ve never liked her,’ she mumbled hesitantly.

‘That was years ago. You’re both different people now. If I can love Ariella then surely you can too. Please come. Being pregnant is all very well, but I can’t ride and have very little to do except practise my scales for the tortoise. I need good company,’ she pleaded.

Zaza thought about it for a moment. ‘Oh, go on, twist my arm,’ she said happily. ‘I’d love to. It’ll give me a break from Angela. They can have the whole bloody house to themselves.’

Then that’s settled. Good,’ said Sofia.

As March was slowly driven out by an impatient spring that scattered the garden with snowdrops and early daffodils, Sofia’s belly swelled with the growing blessing inside her that decided to jump about whenever she wanted to be still. Sometimes she could see a little fist mould itself for a moment in her skin as the baby kicked and punched in its eagerness to come out into the world. Sometimes it danced to the hesitant music of her piano playing until the tortoise, Harry Humphreys, would look so afraid as to almost hide his face in his shell while her shirt moved around mysteriously beside him. David liked to place his head on her tummy and listen to the baby shuffling around in the amniotic fluid. They spent long hours discussing what they thought she would look like, what features of theirs she might inherit. ‘Your rich brown eyes,’ said David, kissing Sofia’s eyelids.

‘No, your beautiful blue eyes,’ she said, kissing his.

‘Your nose.’

That I agree with,’ she laughed, kissing his larger nose fondly.

‘Your mouth.' he said, placing his on her lips.

‘Of course.' she agreed ... ‘But your brains.'

‘Naturally.'

‘My body.'

‘I should hope so if she’s a girl. Your horsemanship. Your daring.’

‘Your sweet nature instead of my stubbornness.’

‘And your pride.'

‘All right, don’t rub it in!’

‘Your funny walk.’

‘It’s not that funny.’

‘Yes, it is - you walk like a duck,’ he said and she laughed.

‘Do I?’ she said coyly. But she knew she did and she knew how attractive it was. Santi had accused her of putting it on to get attention; he had said it made her look self-satisfied and arrogant. But she didn’t put it on, she had always walked like that.

‘If it’s a boy...’

‘It won’t be a boy. I know she’s a girl. A little girl.' she said emphatically. Another Sofia, God help us!’

She threw her arms about his neck and kissed the soft skin beneath his ear. He held her tightly and hoped for her sake that their child would be a little girl and that she would be as adorable as his wife.

Ariella arrived first. She could barely conceal her fury when Sofia told her that Zaza was coming. ‘Well, I’ll suffer with good grace,’ she said condescendingly as David carried her suitcase up to her room. Sofia was helping her unpack by giving instructions from the bed when the dogs barked announcing the arrival of a car. Sofia looked out of the window and waved at Zaza and Tony.

‘David’s down there,’ said Sofia, settling back onto the bed again.

‘Let’s leave them to it, shall we?’ suggested Ariella. ‘It’s always strange coming back here and not owning it. It’s a beautiful house. I can’t think what possessed me to leave,’ she joked.

‘Well, I’m glad you did, so please don’t change your mind.’

‘Oh all right, if you insist.’

Just then the dogs trotted in followed by David, Tony and Zaza.

‘Darling Ariella, it’s been so long,’ gushed Zaza, pulling her scarlet mouth into an artificial smile.

Ariella smiled back coolly. ‘Years, actually. How have you been? Still with Tony, I see,’ she said, watching Tony and David wander on down the corridor.

‘Oh darling Tony, I know a good thing when I see one,’ Zaza said and laughed nervously. ‘You look well, Ariella,’ she added. She could call Ariella lots of things but she couldn’t deny her the luminous beauty for which she was so famous.

‘Thank you. So do you,’ Ariella replied politely, running a slender white hand through her angel hair.

‘That room, you are clever. It’s brilliant,’ Zaza said, referring to the baby’s bedroom.

‘I’ve been somewhat inundated with requests. I can hardly keep up,’ Ariella told them.

‘Well, darling, clever you. Clever, clever you. I never knew you painted so well.’

‘Cartoons aren’t my
metier
actually, but it’s new and I like new things.’

‘Yes,’ said Zaza.

Sofia showed Zaza to her room, leaving Ariella to finish her unpacking.

‘Darling, you never told me how exquisite she is,’ hissed Zaza, when they

were out of earshot.

‘You’ve known her for years.’

‘Yes, but she’s got more beautiful. She never, well - glowed like that. She did glow, yes she did, but differently. She’s incredible. Much nicer than I remember,’ she chattered excitedly.

‘Good,’ said Sofia, watching Zaza’s control slip into a childish exuberance.

Dominique and Antoine arrived last of all. Their plane had been delayed and they descended from the car dishevelled and exhausted but not without humour.

‘Antoine has promised me my own jet,’ said Dominique as she entered the hallway, pushing past the dogs. ‘He says I never have to travel commercial again. It’s far too stressful and ruins my looks.’

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