In the last two weeks of Carla’s life, Fabiana, Bel and Loen took it in turns to sit with her so that she was never alone. One evening, in a rare lucid moment, Carla had reached weakly for her daughter’s hand.

‘Querida, there is something I must say to you while I still can,’ she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, so that Bel had to lean in close to hear her words. ‘I understand that married life has not been easy for you so far and I feel it is my duty to offer some guidance—’

‘Mãe, please,’ Bel interrupted desperately. ‘Gustavo and I have had our problems, like all married couples, but really, there is nothing for you to concern yourself with now.’

‘Maybe not,’ Carla continued doggedly. ‘But you are my daughter and I know you better than you can imagine. It has not been lost on me that you may have developed an . . . attachment to a certain person who is not your husband. I saw it that night at the Casa when he came to unveil his sculpture.’

‘Mãe, really, it is nothing. He is . . . was only a friend,’ Bel said, shocked to the core that her mother had noticed.

‘I doubt it,’ Carla replied with a grim smile. ‘Remember that I also saw the look that passed between you that day on Corcovado Mountain. You pretended you did not know him, but I could see you did, very well indeed. And I should warn you that following that path can only result in heartache for all concerned. I beg you, Izabela, you have been married for such a short time. Give Gustavo a chance to make you happy.’

Not wishing to distress her mother further, Bel nodded her acquiescence. ‘I will, I promise.’

Two days later, Fabiana came to Bel’s room at sunrise.

‘Senhora, I think it is time to call for your father.’

Antonio came immediately, and for the last hours of his wife’s life, barely left her side. The end came peacefully and Antonio and Bel stood together at the end of the bed, their arms around each other, weeping silently.

They travelled back to Rio together after the funeral – Carla had insisted on being buried in the small cemetery in Paty do Alferes – both of them desolate.

‘Pai, please,’ Bel said as they arrived at Mansão da Princesa and she prepared to return to the Casa. ‘Anything you need, you must tell me. Shall I come and visit you here tomorrow? See how you are? I’m sure Gustavo wouldn’t mind if I stayed with you for the next few days.’

‘No, no, querida. You have your own life to lead. Me?’ Antonio looked around the drawing room in which he’d spent so many hours with his wife. ‘I have nothing left.’

‘Pai, please don’t say that. You know Mãe’s last wish was for you to try to find some happiness in the rest of the time you have here on earth.’