‘You are ready to go?’

‘Yes.’ Bel stood patiently in the drawing room as her mother and father inspected her.

‘You look beautiful, my princesa,’ said Antonio admiringly. ‘What man could refuse you?’

‘Are you nervous, querida?’ asked Carla.

‘I’m taking a train up Corcovado Mountain with Gustavo, that is all,’ said Bel, trying hard to contain her rising irritation.

‘Well,’ said Antonio, visibly jumping as the doorbell rang, ‘we shall see. He has arrived.’

‘Good luck, and God bless you,’ said Carla as she kissed her daughter on both cheeks.

‘We’ll be waiting here later for the news,’ called Antonio, as Bel left the room and found Gabriela outside, waiting to pin on her new silk cloche hat, purchased especially for the occasion.

Gustavo was standing on the doorstep, his thin, wiry frame looking unusually dapper in a cream linen suit, a jaunty straw hat perched on his head. ‘Senhorita Izabela, you look beautiful. I have our driver waiting outside. Shall we go?’

As they walked to the car and both climbed into the back seat, Bel realised that Gustavo was far more nervous than she was. On the three-minute drive to the tiny station from where the train up to Corcovado Mountain left, he was silent. He escorted her from the car, and they climbed into one of the carriages, which in reality was one of two basic carts attached to the back of a miniature steam engine.

‘I hope you will love the view, even though it is not a comfortable ride,’ commented Gustavo.

The train began its ascent up the mountain, the incline so steep that Bel felt her neck straining to keep her head upright. As the train gave a lurch, instinctively Bel grabbed Gustavo’s shoulder, and he immediately encircled her waist with his arm.

It was the most intimate physical gesture they had shared so far, and although Bel felt no stirring from it, neither did she feel revulsion. It was akin to the comforting touch of an older brother. The noise from the engine made any conversation impossible, so Bel relaxed and began to enjoy the ride as the little train chugged through the lush urban jungle, the roots of which lay at the back of her own garden.

Bel was almost disappointed when the train drew into the station at the top and the passengers climbed out.

‘There is a vantage point here that affords an excellent view of Rio, or we can climb the many steps right to the top and see how they are digging out the foundations for the Cristo Redentor,’ said Gustavo.

‘I want to go right to the top, of course,’ smiled Bel, and she noted his approving look. They followed the braver souls up the steep steps, the burning sun testing their endurance as they grew warmer and warmer in their formal clothes.

I must not sweat, thought Bel, as she felt her undergarments damp against her skin. Finally, they arrived at the plateau at the top of the mountain. In front of them was a viewing pavilion. Further along the mountaintop, Bel could see mechanical diggers tearing out chunks of rock with their giant claws. Gustavo took her hand and pulled her into the shade of the pavilion.