‘Of course I will,’ I said, trying to hold back my tears.

‘I do have some jewellery too that belonged to me and to your great-grandmother. And the Fazenda Santa Tereza, my mother’s childhood home. I run a small charity which helps women from the favelas. The charity uses the farm as a place of refuge for them. If you were able to keep that going, I would be very happy.’

‘Of course I will, Beatriz,’ I whispered, my throat constricting at her words. ‘Beatriz, I really feel I don’t deserve this. Surely you have friends, family—’

‘Maia! How can you say that you don’t deserve it!’ There was real passion in Beatriz’s voice now. ‘Your mother gave you away at birth, denied you your heritage, which, might I add, once upon a time meant something here in Rio. You are a continuation of the Aires Cabral line, and although money can never make up for the loss you have suffered, it is the least I can do. And should do,’ she underlined.

‘Thank you, Beatriz.’ I could see that she was becoming agitated and I didn’t want to upset her further.

‘I trust that you will use the legacy wisely,’ she said, as I saw the now familiar wince of pain.

‘Shall I call for the nurse?’

‘In a few moments, yes. But first, Maia, before you’re tempted to say that you will stay with me until the end, I will tell you equally firmly that after today, I do not want you to come and visit me again. I know where I’m headed and I don’t wish for you to witness my final demise, especially as you are still grieving for your adoptive father. Yara will be with me and she is all I need.’

‘But Beatriz—’

‘No buts, Maia. The pain is so dreadful now that even though I have resisted so far, this afternoon I will ask the nurse for some morphine. And then the end will come quickly. So . . .’ Beatriz forced a smile. ‘I am only happy that I have been lucky enough to share my last lucid moments with my beautiful granddaughter. And you are beautiful, my dear Maia. I wish so many things for your future. But most of all, I wish that you will find love. It is the only thing in life that makes the pain of being alive bearable. Please remember that. Now, you may call for that nurse.’

A few moments later, I hugged Beatriz to me and we said our final goodbyes. As I left the room, I could see that her eyelids were already drooping and she managed a fragile wave as I closed the door behind me. Sinking onto the bench, I put my head in my hands and sobbed quietly. I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder and looked up to see that Yara had sat down beside me.

‘She never knew that Laurent Brouilly was her father, did she?’

‘No, Senhorita Maia, she didn’t.’