Read Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree Online

Authors: Santa Montefiore

Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (9 page)

‘I’m bored,’ she huffed, wriggling her brown toes that were stretched out in front of her across the sofa. It was raining. Fat summer drops that rattled against the windowpanes. It had rained all day, hard and constant and unrelenting. Santi had gone into town with his cousins Sebastian, Angel and Niquito. Maria was over at Anna’s house with Chiquita, Panchito and their Aunt Malena with her young son Horacio. Sofia didn’t share Maria’s love of playing with small children, so she had left her to it. She stretched lazily. There was nothing to do and no one to play with. She looked around the room and sighed. The boys were deep in conversation.

‘I’m just as good at polo as Agustin, and Papa knows it,’ she persisted, waiting for her brother’s response. ‘After all, he let me play in the
Copa Santa Catalina
.’

‘Shut up, Sofia,’ said Fernando.

‘Sofia, you’re being very boring,’ said Rafael.

‘I’m only stating the truth. There you all are, discussing sport like your sex is the only one that does it well. Girls would be just as good as boys if they were given the opportunity. I’m living proof.’

‘I’m not going to rise, Sofia,’ said Agustin, rising, ‘but what I will say is that I’ve got more strength than you could ever muster. So don’t even compare us.’

‘I’m not talking strength. I’m talking wit and skill. Of course I know men are stronger than women - that’s not the point. Typical you, Agustin, to miss the point.’ She laughed scornfully, pleased that she had provoked a reaction.

‘Sofia, if you don’t shut up, now, I’m going to personally throw you out into the rain, and then let’s see who cries like a girl,’ snarled Fernando, exasperated.

At that moment Santi burst in like a wet dog, followed closely by Sebastian, Angel and Niquito. They were all complaining bitterly about the weather, wiping the rain off their faces.

‘We could hardly drive back up the track.' he said breathlessly. The mud is just unbelievable.'

‘It’s a miracle we didn’t get stuck,’ said Sebastian, shaking his dripping dark hair over the tiled floor.

‘What’s your grandfather doing out in this weather?’ Santi asked, turning to Sofia.

‘I don’t know, what is he doing?’

‘Walking around as if the sun’s out.'

‘Sounds just like Grandpa.' chuckled Sofia. ‘Hey, Santi, are girls just as good as boys at sport?’

‘She’s been a pain all morning, Santi. Do us a favour and take her away,’ said Rafael.

‘I’m not taking sides if that’s what you’re angling for, Chofi.’

‘I’m not talking about strength or anything like that. Skill, cunning . ..’

‘You’ve got more cunning than most boys.’ He agreed, moving her legs so he could join her on the sofa.

‘I just said I’m as capable as Agustin,’ she explained. She watched Agustin’s shoulders hunch irritably. He muttered something under his breath to

Fernando and Rafael.

‘Well, prove it,’ Santi shrugged. ‘You could go on about it for hours. You’re obviously being annoying.’

‘Okay. Agustin, do you want to be beaten at back gammon?’ she challenged.

‘Play with Santi, I’m not in the mood.’ He scowled.

‘I don’t want to play with Santi.’

‘Because you know you’ll get beaten,’ Santi said smugly.

‘That’s not the point. I’m not pretending to be better than Santi, or Rafa or Fercho. I’m saying that I’m better than Agustin.’

Her brother suddenly got to his feet and glared at her. ‘Okay, Sofia, so you want to be beaten? Go and get the board and we’ll see who’s better.’

‘Leave it, Agustin,’ said Rafael, tired of his brother and sister’s constant bickering. Fernando shook his head disapprovingly. Sofia was trying at the worst of times, but when she was bored she was unbearable.

‘No, I’ll play, but on one condition,’ said Agustin.

‘What’s that?’ she replied, lifting the board out of Miguel’s games drawer.

‘If I win, you agree that I’m better than you at everything.’

‘All right.’

‘Set it up then call me when you’re ready. I’m going to get a drink.’ And he wandered out of the room.

‘Are you really prepared to agree to that?’ asked Santi, watching her set up the board.

‘I won’t lose.’

‘Don’t be so sure. Luck has a lot to do with it too, you know. You just might be unlucky.’

‘I’ll win, luck or no luck,’ she replied pompously.

When Agustin and Sofia rolled the dice to start the game the others gathered around like crows to watch the match, except Fernando. He sat himself at his father’s card table, lit a cigarette, then began piecing together the half-finished puzzle that lay scattered there.

‘Santi, you’re not to help Sofia. She’s got to do it on her own,’ Rafael said seriously. Santi smirked as Sofia threw a double six.

‘I don’t believe it, you lucky cow,’ spat Agustin competitively, watching his sister build up a heavy wall of pieces, blocking in two of his players. Sofia felt just as competitive as her brother but tried hard not to let it show. Instead she casually threw the dice, made ridiculous comments and fixed an arrogant smirk onto her face that she knew would annoy him.

Sofia won the first game - but that wasn’t enough. It was understood that any game, whether it was tennis or tiddly-winks, had to be the best of three. On winning the first game she couldn’t resist but show off about it.

‘You see? Poor old Agustin! What does it feel like to be beaten by a girl?’ she crowed. ‘And I’m younger than you!’

‘It’s the best of three. I have plenty of time to win,’ he said with forced calmness.

Sofia caught Santi’s eye and winked at him. He slowly shook his head at her in reproof. He could tell all this bragging was only going to make her fall a harder one.

The second game commenced. Sofia’s comments dried up as she seemed only to manage to throw low numbers while Agustin threw fives and sixes. The smile melted off her face leaving a rather unattractive scowl. Santi watched her in amusement. Once or twice he could see her making an unfavourable move and tried to catch her eye, but she didn’t look up from the board. She sensed the game slipping away from her. Her cheeks burned scarlet when Agustin

captured one of her players and then threw the dice again as there was no free place for her to come on. She could feel his self-satisfied grin, it crawled beneath her skin and made her squirm.

‘Hurry up,’ she ordered petulantly. ‘You’re just slowing it up to annoy me.’

‘Look who’s changed her tune,’ he goaded. ‘Not smirking any more, are we?’

‘Right, one all,’ announced Agustin triumphantly. ‘Ready for the decider, sister dear?’

Fernando hadn’t been listening. In fact, he had been making a big effort not to listen. The puzzle had kept him interested for a few minutes, and his cigarette had been good. He picked up the packet and lit another. When he heard Sofia whining from the other end of the room, he thought things sounded more interesting. Throwing the match into the empty fireplace he sauntered over to see what was happening.

‘So, Sofia’s being beaten by a boy?’ he laughed, taking a look at the state of play. His cousin didn’t reply and hung her head. Leaning over like a big bat, he cast a shadow across the board. Sebastian, Niquito and Angel made jokes each time Sofia tossed the dice; Agustin, who was now winning, laughed heartily. Rafael, who had initially wanted his brother to win, typically changed sides to support the underdog. He always relented when Sofia got upset. Santi, of course, wanted Sofia to win. He had always felt like a protective elder brother where she was concerned. He could see she was miserable she was losing and probably wishing she hadn’t been so overconfident. He finally caught her eye as she looked at him sheepishly. She had probably only baited Agustin for attention and because it was raining and she had nothing better to do than aggravate everyone. He knew Sofia. He knew her better than anyone.

‘I’ve won!’ Agustin proclaimed proudly, placing his last pieces into the leather slot to the side of the board.

‘You cheated,’ Sofia said, crossly. Santi laughed and rolled his eyes.

‘Shut up!’ replied Agustin. ‘I won fair and square and I’ve got five witnesses.’

‘You still cheated,’ she said grouchily.

‘Chofi, admit defeat gracefully,’ said Santi seriously, wandering out of the room.

‘I won’t. Not from Agustin. Not from him, ever!’ she cried, and flounced out after him.

‘Well done, Agustin,’ Fernando applauded, patting him roughly on the back. ‘That shut her up. Now we’ll have a peaceful afternoon.’

‘You’ll now have a peaceful afternoon,’ sighed Rafael. ‘We’ll have a horrible evening. She’ll sulk for days.’

‘No one sulks like Sofia,’ agreed Agustin. ‘But it’ll be worth every tantrum. I enjoyed that. Anyone else fancy a game?’

Sofia followed Santi down the corridor.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked, dragging her hand along the wall.

‘You should have better grace when you lose.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘You should - a bad loser is very unattractive.’ He knew that would get a reaction. Sofia was very vain.

‘I wasn’t that graceless. Only with Agustin. You know how he gets to me.’

‘I gather you baited him in the first place.’

At that moment the door burst open and in tumbled Chiquita, Maria and Panchito under a large black umbrella.

‘It is foul out there,’ gasped Chiquita. ‘Ah, Santiago, be a dear and help Panchito out of his things, he’s soaked through. Encarnacion!’ she shouted.

‘What’s Dermot doing out in the rain?’ asked Maria, wringing her hair out with her hands.

‘I’m going to see Grandpa,’ Sofia announced, rushing past them. ‘See you later.’

‘It’s so unlike summer to rain like this, it just hasn’t stopped all day,’ said Chiquita, shaking her head.

Sofia ran through the trees shouting for her grandfather. It really was raining hard, and she couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to venture out in such a deluge. To her amusement she saw him across the plain knocking croquet balls through hoops, watched miserably by a couple of sodden dogs whose tails hung limply between their legs.

‘Grandpa, what on earth are you doing?’ she asked as she approached.

‘The sun’s about to come out, Sofia Melody,’ he replied. ‘Ah, good shot, Dermot! Told you I’d do it,’ he added to the dogs as the blue ball glided easily through the hoop.

‘But you’re soaking wet.’

‘So are you.'

‘You’ve been out here all afternoon. Everyone’s talking about it.’

‘I’ll be dry soon. That sun’s on its way out, I can feel it already on my back.’

Sofia felt the cold drips sliding down hers and shivered. She cast her eyes up to the sky, expecting there to be nothing but grey mist. But to her surprise she found a resplendent glow beginning to break through the cloud. Squinting her eyes to stop the rain falling in, she could feel the heat on her face.

‘You’re right, Grandpa. The sun
is
about to come out.’

‘Of course I am, girl. Now take a mallet. Let’s see if you can hit the yellow through that hoop over there.’

‘I’m not in the mood for games. Agustin’s just beaten me at backgammon.’

‘Oh dear. You weren’t a good loser, I’ll bet.’ He chuckled.

‘Wasn’t that bad.'

‘If I know you, Sofia Melody, you flounced off like a spoilt princess.’

‘Well, I wasn’t very happy,’ she conceded truthfully, wiping a drop off the end of her nose with the back of her hand.

‘Charm will only take you half the way,’ he said wisely, before trotting off in the direction of the house.

‘Where are you going? The sun’s coming out.’

‘Time for a drink.’

‘Grandpa, it’s four o’clock.’

‘Exactly.’ Then turning to her he winked. ‘Don’t tell yer mother. Follow me.’

Dermot led his granddaughter by the hand in through the kitchen door so as not to bump into Anna. They squelched their way furtively down the tiled corridor, leaving a glistening trail behind them. Casting his eye about him he cautiously opened the linen cupboard.

‘So this is where you keep it, Grandpa,’ Sofia hissed, as his hand disappeared between the towels then withdrew clasping a bottle of whisky. ‘Don’t you worry that Soledad might find it?’

‘Soledad is my partner in crime. A fine woman for secrets, is Soledad,’ he said, licking his lips. ‘Come with me if you too want to be a partner in crime.’ Sofia followed him back down the corridor, out through the kitchen door and across the courtyard towards the trees.

‘Where are we going?’

‘My secret place.’

l
Your
secret place?’ repeated Sofia, who loved intrigue. ‘I have a secret place too.’ But her grandfather wasn’t listening. He was cradling that bottle of whisky to his chest with the care of a new mother carrying her baby. ‘It’s the ombu tree,’ she said.

‘I’ll bet it is, I’ll bet it is,’ he mumbled in front of her, almost jogging with impatience. Finally they arrived at a small, wooden shed. Sofia must have walked past it hundreds of times and never noticed it.

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