Leaving thoughts of Europe and the glories it held in the jungle behind her, Bel stood up and made her way back through the garden and into the house.

14

On the morning of her eighteenth birthday, Bel woke to see heavy grey clouds scuttering across the horizon beyond her window and heard the sound of approaching thunder. This indicated a storm which would gather ominously in power as the sky was lit up with great bolts of lightning. Then suddenly, the heavens would open and unceremoniously drop their contents on Rio, drenching its unfortunate inhabitants.

As Gabriela bustled around the room, firing Bel’s schedule for the day at her, she too turned to the window and studied the sky.

‘We must only pray that the clouds decide to burst before your party and the rain is gone when your guests begin arriving. What a disaster it would be if your beautiful gown was mud-spattered as you stepped out of the car and into the hotel. I will go to the chapel and ask Our Lady to finish the rain before tonight, and for the sun to appear and dry up the puddles. Come now, Senhorita Izabela, your parents are waiting for you in the breakfast room. Your father wants to see you before he leaves for the office. It is a very special day for all of us.’

Much as she loved Gabriela, Bel wished for the hundredth time that Loen was here to share this special day with her and to calm her nerves.

Ten minutes later, she walked into the breakfast room. Antonio rose from the table, his arms outstretched towards her.

‘My precious daughter! Today you come of age, and I could not be prouder of you. Come, embrace your father.’

Bel walked into his strong, protective arms, smelling the comforting scents of the eau de cologne he always wore and the oil he used on his hair.

‘Now, go and kiss your mother and we will show you the gift we have for you.’

‘Piccolina,’ said Carla, forgetting herself and using the old Italian endearment. She rose from the table and kissed her daughter warmly, then stood back and threw her arms wide open. ‘Look at you! You are so very beautiful.’

‘Inherited of course from your dear mother,’ Antonio interjected, casting a fond glance at his wife.

Bel could see his eyes were filled with tears. It was rare to see her father display emotion these days and she was immediately transported back to when they were just a simple Italian family, before Pai had become very rich. The thought brought a lump to her throat.

‘Come, see what we have bought for you.’ Antonio reached down to the chair next to him and produced two velvet-covered cases. ‘Look at this,’ he said, reaching eagerly for the lid of the larger box to reveal what was inside. ‘And these.’ He opened the second, smaller box.

Bel gasped at the beauty of the emerald necklace and earrings in front of her. ‘Pai! Meu Deus! They are exquisite.’ Bel leant closer and with her father’s nod of permission, lifted the necklace from its silk lining. It was formed of gold, with emeralds which graduated in size and culminated in a glorious, shining stone that would rest in the centre of her décolletage.