Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (53 page)

‘She is right,’ Antoine declared in his heavy French accent. ‘If I buy one, why not ten, then all her friends can enjoy them too.’

Sofia waddled over to embrace them, as much as was physically possible. ‘I’ll be able to get closer in a few weeks,’ she joked, breathing in the familiar scent of Dominique’s perfume.

‘When is the baby arriving?’ asked Antoine.

^l
Cher
Antoine, I’ve told you countless times - only ten days to go. Any moment now.’

‘I hope you’re ready to roll up your sleeves, darling,’ said Zaza to David. ‘It could come at any moment.’

‘I’m ready to roll up mine,’ Tony interjected jovially. ‘I’ve already delivered two of my own although I’m slightly out of practice.’

‘That’s not the only thing that requires practice,’ said Zaza under her breath. Ariella grinned and glanced at Tony; it didn’t surprise her. He looked like the sort of man who was more at home smoking a cigar with the other codgers. Her attention was diverted as Quid stuck his nose aggressively into her crotch.

‘For goodness' sake!’ she wailed as she tried to push him away. He forced his nose further in, wagging his tale wildly.

‘Quid, stop,’ ordered David in amusement.
‘Quid!
Sorry, Ariella, he’s not used to such fragrant women. Come on, Quid, behave. You shouldn’t treat ladies like that, it’s not gentlemanly behaviour.’

‘For goodness’ sake, David, can’t you learn to talk to your dogs properly?’ Ariella complained. ‘They’re not people. Honestly,’ she sighed, brushing down her trousers and marching across the hall to the drawing room.

Once there, she slipped out of her shoes and curled up on the sofa, pulling her feet up from the floor to avoid the dreaded Quid who eyed her lasciviously from David’s feet. Dominique, dressed in large, floppy green trousers and a bright floral cardigan that reached down to her knees, perched on the fireguard, her hands playing with the beads that hung about her neck like shiny red beetles. Zaza stood the other end of the fireguard, striking a pose, or so Sofia thought. She held her cigarette high in the air where it smoked at the end of the black ebony holder. Her short brown hair was sleek, cut into a severe bob and her narrow green eyes surveyed the room from their lofty height. She watched Ariella warily, taking care not to let her guard down. Ariella had a tongue as sharp as a shark’s tooth and as bloodthirsty, she reminded herself. David, Antoine and Tony stood by the window discussing the garden.

‘Fancy shooting some rabbits?’ suggested David. The garden’s full of the damn pests.’

‘Don’t be mean,’ shouted Sofia from the bed. ‘Poor little things.’

‘What do you mean, poor little things? They eat all the bulbs,’ David objected. ‘What do you say?’

‘All right,’ said Tony.

^l
Comme vous voulez,’
Antoine shrugged his shoulders.

The following day was mild for March. The sun shook off the winter fogs and blazed enthusiastically, pleased to be out. Ariella and Zaza appeared for breakfast elegantly clad in mild country colours. While Zaza’s green tweed trousers and jacket were stiffly new, Ariella’s pleated tweed skirt ensemble had belonged to her grandmother and had softened and faded with the years. Zaza glanced at Ariella enviously, while Ariella smiled with the contentment of someone who knows they always look immaculate whatever the occasion.

David took the key from a small drawer in the hall and opened the gun cabinet. He chose one for himself and a couple for Antoine and Tony. They had belonged to his father who had been a keen shot in his day and were all elegantly engraved with the initials
E.J.H.
for Edward Jonathan Harrison.

Sofia wrapped herself in a sheepskin coat of David’s and grabbed a long stick from the cloakroom to keep the dogs in check. As they gathered on the gravel at the front of the house Dominique appeared in a bright red coat, yellow and blue striped scarf and white tennis shoes.

‘You’ll scare all the animals away dressed like that,’ Tony said, cheekily, looking at her in mock horror.

‘Except the bulls,’ beamed Ariella. ‘I think you look marvellous.’

‘
Cherie
, perhaps you should borrow a coat of Sofia’s?’ Antoine suggested kindly.

‘You can if you like,’ said Sofia, ‘but I’d rather you came like that to warn them all of the danger.’

‘If Sofia wants me in red, she shall have me in red,’ Dominique decided. ‘Now let’s go. I need a good walk after all that toast and scrambled eggs. No one cooks breakfast like the English.’

They walked up the valley towards the woods. Every few minutes the men would indicate to the women that they had seen a rabbit and everyone would have to stop and remain very still until they had shot it. Tony, who had missed everything, turned to the four women and hissed, ‘If you would all stop talking I might shoot something.’

‘Sorry, darling,’ said Zaza. ‘Pretend we’re not here.’

‘For God’s sake, Zaza, they can hear your voices in Stratford!’

The party moved on up the path like a slow train stopping at every station. Sofia kept the dogs under control by patting them on their backs every now and then with the stick and saying, ‘Heel!’ which they seemed to understand.

Once the rabbits had all been either frightened away by the gunfire, or Dominique’s coat, David and Antoine tucked their guns under their arms and called it a day. Tony, who had still missed everything, furiously looked about for something to shoot. Finally he aimed at a plump, low-flying pigeon, pulled the trigger and watched in delight as a few feathers sparked into the air. The bird flew on.

That’ll come down,’ he said trumphantly.

‘Yes, it will,’ said Ariella, ‘when it’s hungry.’

‘Right, that’s it,’ huffed Tony. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Let’s walk on and get some exercise. A couple of us need to talk less and walk more.’ He turned to Ariella who was laughing so hard she had to hold on to Zaza for support. ‘Women,’ sighed Tony. ‘They are so easy to amuse.’

By Sunday Zaza and Ariella were firm friends yet the balance of their friendship was uneven. Zaza, still wary of Ariella, was very much in her thrall. She laughed at all her jokes and glanced at her after she had spoken to check her reaction. Ariella was more amused by Zaza than impressed. She enjoyed the power her beauty gave her and took pleasure in watching it dazzle Zaza like a fox in torchlight. Sofia watched their dynamic with amusement and loved

Ariella all the more for playing with Zaza so effortlessly.

As Sofia wandered down the upstairs landing that evening, she heard Zaza and Tony arguing in their bedroom while they packed their cases to leave. She stopped to listen.

‘For God’s sake, don't be so pathetic. What on earth for?’ Tony was saying, his voice patronizing as if he were talking to his daughter.

‘Darling, I’m sorry, I can’t expect you to understand,’ Zaza told him.

‘Well, how can I? I’m a man.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with being a man. David would understand.’

‘You’re just showing off,’ said Tony.

‘I didn’t want to discuss it in this house,’ hissed Zaza, obviously afraid of being overheard. Sofia felt briefly guilty.

‘Well, why did you bring it up then?’

‘I couldn’t help it.’

‘You’re being very childish, you know. You’re no better than Angela, the pair of you.’

‘Don’t put me in the same basket as Angela,’ snapped Zaza crossly.

‘You want to run off to France with Ariella, Angela’s in love with a girl called

Mandy - what’s the difference?’

The difference is that I’m old enough to know what I’m doing.’

‘I give it a month. Go and try it out if you want to, but she’ll spit you out when she’s bored . . .’

Just then Sofia experienced a sharp pain in her womb. She cried out as she leant against the wall for support. Tony and Zaza came out of their room to see what the noise was and ran to her aid.

‘Oh God, it’s the baby!’ declared Zaza excitedly.

‘It can’t be,’ gasped Sofia. ‘It’s not due for another ten days. Ouch!’ she cried, bending over.

Tony ran down the stairs shouting for David while Dominique and Ariella rushed out of the drawing room into the hall. Antoine followed Tony and bellowed down the corridor for David. David, who was cleaning his guns, wandered out of the gun cabinet to find his wife being helped down the stairs by an anxious-looking Zaza. He dropped his rag and strode to her side. Sam and Quid sprang about in excitement hoping they were about to be taken for another walk.

‘Dominique, get her coat. Where are my keys?’ he stammered, feeling his pockets. ‘Are you all right, darling?’ he said, taking Sofia’s other arm. She nodded to make him feel better.

‘It’s okay, you can take mine,’ said Ariella, holding her keys out, watching Quid warily.

‘Thank you. I owe you one,’ David replied, grabbing them.

‘I don’t think you do,’ she said as Quid trotted towards her with a determined look in his eyes.

Dominique helped Sofia into her coat. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she said. ‘Antoine, you’re going back to Geneva alone. I’m staying.’

‘As long as you like,
chirie,’
he replied and shrugged his amiable shoulders.

‘Quid, Quid,
noV
shrieked Ariella, looking about for David, but he had left the front door open behind him and the sound of tyres on gravel indicated that she would have to fight the dog on her own. ‘It’s just you and me, doggie!’ she hissed. ‘And I take no prisoners!’

‘How unusual,’ commented Zaza. ‘First babies are always late.’

Sofia was frightened. It had nothing to do with giving birth. Nor was she even afraid that her child might be in danger. She knew everything was all right. She knew her child had just lost patience with the wait, and she didn’t blame it. So had she. But she was afraid she might, after all, have a boy.

‘Where’s Dominique?’ she asked anxiously as they wheeled her into the delivery room.

‘Waiting downstairs,’ David replied shakily.

‘I’m frightened,’ she choked.

‘Darling...’

‘I don’t want a boy,’ she said tearfully. David held her hand tightly. ‘If it’s a boy, what if he’s like Santiguito? I don’t think I could bear it.’

‘It’ll be all right, I promise,’ he said reassuringly, pretending to be strong. He had never felt this nervous before, his stomach was skipping all over the place. Sofia looked so unhappy and he was powerless to help her. He didn’t know what to say. Besides, he was feeling faint himself. He fought his nausea by focusing on comforting his wife. But Sofia continued to fret. She saw

Santiguito’s small round face looking possessively into hers. How could she love another child? Perhaps she shouldn’t have got pregnant in the first place.

‘I’m frightened, David,’ she said again. Her mouth was dry, she needed a drink.

‘Don’t worry, Mrs Harrison. First-time mothers are always a little apprehensive. It’s only natural,’ the nurse said kindly.

I'm not a first-time mother!
cried out Sofia in her head. But before she could think any more about Santiguito she was pushing and screaming and squeezing David’s hand until he winced and had to pry her nails out of his palm. The last birth had been long and painful. To her surprise this baby slid out into the light of the hospital lamps with the speed and efficiency of someone anxious to leave the place they came from and arrive. The child’s arrival was welcomed by a sharp smack and signalled by a shrill cry as it inhaled for the first time a gulp of life-sustaining air.

‘Mrs Harrison, you have a beautiful little girl,’ the doctor said, giving the baby to the nurse.

‘A girl?’ sighed Sofia weakly. ‘A girl. Thank God.’

‘That was quick!’ David said heartily, trying to cover up the emotion that

stuck in his throat like cottonwool. ‘Very quick.’

The nurse laid the baby, now wrapped in a white muslin square, onto the mother’s breast so that Sofia could hold her and look into her mottled red face. Accustomed to overwhelmed parents she turned away tactfully to allow the father to say a few proud words to his wife.

‘A little girl,’ he breathed, peering over the muslin to take a look. ‘She’s the image of her mother.’

‘Honestly David, if I look like this I may as well give up now,’ she joked weakly.

‘Darling, you were so brave. You’ve performed a miracle,’ he whispered, his lips trembling at the sight of the tiny human being that twitched in her mother’s arms.

‘A miracle,’ she repeated, kissing her new baby’s damp forehead tenderly. ‘Look how perfect she is. She’s got the tiniest little nose - it’s as if God forgot to give her one and stuck it on at the last minute.’

‘What shall we call her?’ he asked.

‘I know what
not
to call her.’

‘Elizabeth?’ he said and laughed.

‘What was your father’s mother called?’ Sofia asked.

‘Honor. What about your mother or grandmother?’

‘Honor, I like that name. Very English. Honor. Just Honor,’ she said, watching her baby with shiny eyes.