‘Not even if you knew that you stood to inherit this house?’ Yara eyed me.

‘I assure you that I was adopted by an extremely wealthy man and I want for nothing financially. Please, Yara.’

She stared at me for a few seconds, then gave a small sigh of surrender.

‘The letters you read that were written to my mother ended when Senhora Izabela returned to Rio, yes?’

‘Yes. The last one was posted from the ship when it docked in Africa on its way back from France,’ I confirmed. ‘I know Bel returned home to Rio. I’ve seen the photos of her wedding to Gustavo Aires Cabral in the archives.’

‘Yes. So, I will tell you what my mother said happened to Izabela in the eighteen months that followed . . .’

Izabela

Rio de Janeiro

October 1928

30

‘Izabela! My beloved daughter, you are returned home safe to us!’ Antonio cried as Bel walked off the gangplank and into his open arms. He clasped her in his strong embrace then stood back to look at her. ‘Why, what is this? You feel like a sparrow to hold. Have you not been eating? And you are so pale, princesa, but I suppose that is the Northern European weather for you. You need the hot sun of your own country to put some colour in your cheeks. Come, they are already loading your trunk into the car and it is parked not far along the quay.’

‘Where is Mãe?’ Bel asked, as she walked by his side. The sky was unusually grey and gloomy for October and she only wished the sun had been out; that at least might have lightened her mood.

‘She’s resting at home,’ her father replied. ‘She has not been well.’

‘You said nothing in your letters to me,’ Bel said with a worried frown.

‘I’m sure your presence will speed her recovery.’ Her father stopped beside an impressive silver car and the chauffeur opened the door to the back seat so Bel could climb inside.

‘What do you think?’ asked Antonio as he joined her on the soft grey calf-leather seat. ‘I had it shipped from America. It is a Rolls-Royce, a “Phantom”, and I believe the first one in Rio. I will be proud to take my princesa in it to the cathedral on her wedding day.’

‘It is beautiful,’ said Bel automatically, her thoughts still with her mother.

‘We will take the scenic route along the beach, to remind my daughter of what she has missed,’ Antonio instructed the driver. ‘We have so much to tell each other, it will be hard to know where to begin,’ he said. ‘But business-wise, all is very good here. The price of coffee rises daily, thanks to the demand from America, and I have purchased two further farms. My name has also been put forward as a possible candidate for the Federal Senate,’ he said proudly. ‘Gustavo’s father, Maurício, nominated me. They have just completed a new and marvellous building in Rua Moncorvo Filho, where even the floor and the cornices are decorated with coffee beans. That is the power of our simple bean here in Brazil.’