understand, Senhor Ricardo, is if you made such a good profit on your last expedition, why could you not use that money to fund another voyage?’
I hung my head in shame. ‘I regret it is almost all gone. My friends said I was a fool, but alas, it is too late.’
I glanced fleetingly up at Dona Lúcia and saw her bridle.
‘Your friends would appear to have more sense than you do. A young man who wantonly squanders his fortune is certainly a fool. I wager that women, drinking and gambling were your ruin. That’s usually how a man and his money are parted.’
I let her scold. The more harshly she judged me now, the more guilty she would feel later. And when a man or woman feels guilty they always assuage their conscience by giving far more money than they would otherwise do.
‘What, no fine words, Senhor Ricardo?’ she said. ‘You were eloquent enough just now. Are you ashamed to admit the truth?’
‘I confess that I am, Dona Lúcia. You see before you an abject wretch who has failed his duty as a son. For the truth of it is, my poor dear father became sick. I took him to all the best physicians and bought whatever treatments they prescribed in a desperate attempt to save his life – rare herbs, pearls crushed in wine, tonics and purges. One physician recommended pure cold air, so I paid porters to carry my father into the mountains. Then another physician said the mountain air was harmful, instead we should bathe him in sea water, so I rented the best rooms I could find at the sea, but it was all to no avail. He sadly died. He was relying on me and I failed to find the cure for him in time.’
I bowed my head to hide my tears and it was several moments before I was able to continue.
‘My sweet, gentle mother was heartbroken and terrified for the future, for I had five unwed sisters all needing dowries so that they might catch respectable husbands. I could not let the poor woman fret over such a burden. So all the money I had left from paying for my father’s treatments I gave to my mother to provide for her and my little sisters. I am a fool, as my friends so rightly say, for I left myself almost penniless, but what else could I do?’
I sighed heavily, and Pio, who has been well trained, reached out his tiny paw and stroked my cheek, laying his little head on my shoulder in a most affecting manner.
Dona Lúcia sighed almost as deeply as I had and, taking her cue from Pio, stroked my hand. ‘That such a thing should happen is tragic, tragic! But you mustn’t blame yourself. You did everything you could. You have been a jewel of a son to your parents and your sisters. A saint! No mother on earth could ask for better.’
I almost wished my mother had been there to hear me called a saint. Then she would realize that there are some people in this world who do appreciate my talents. But it was just as well she wasn’t for she might have disputed a few of the trivial details of my story. It was entirely true that I was half an orphan. You didn’t think I’d lie about something like that, did you? But my mother would tell you it was shame over my wicked and dissolute behaviour that killed the old man. Rather an unfair accusation, if you ask me. But then she had thought me a sad disappointment ever since I said my first word, which apparently was a word no mother would ever want to hear her son utter. She could be a harsh woman at times.
Dona Lúcia, on the other hand, was a charming if blessedly gullible creature, who was perfectly content that I was whatever a mother could wish for in a son. And that kind of touching faith is bound to bring out the best in any fellow. I swear by the time I left that perfumed courtyard she was almost on the verge of adopting me as her own kin.
I was to return in five days’ time when she would have my money … her money … ready for me to collect. She had originally proposed two weeks to gather the finances, but I had persuaded her that the ship needed to sail within
I hung my head in shame. ‘I regret it is almost all gone. My friends said I was a fool, but alas, it is too late.’
I glanced fleetingly up at Dona Lúcia and saw her bridle.
‘Your friends would appear to have more sense than you do. A young man who wantonly squanders his fortune is certainly a fool. I wager that women, drinking and gambling were your ruin. That’s usually how a man and his money are parted.’
I let her scold. The more harshly she judged me now, the more guilty she would feel later. And when a man or woman feels guilty they always assuage their conscience by giving far more money than they would otherwise do.
‘What, no fine words, Senhor Ricardo?’ she said. ‘You were eloquent enough just now. Are you ashamed to admit the truth?’
‘I confess that I am, Dona Lúcia. You see before you an abject wretch who has failed his duty as a son. For the truth of it is, my poor dear father became sick. I took him to all the best physicians and bought whatever treatments they prescribed in a desperate attempt to save his life – rare herbs, pearls crushed in wine, tonics and purges. One physician recommended pure cold air, so I paid porters to carry my father into the mountains. Then another physician said the mountain air was harmful, instead we should bathe him in sea water, so I rented the best rooms I could find at the sea, but it was all to no avail. He sadly died. He was relying on me and I failed to find the cure for him in time.’
I bowed my head to hide my tears and it was several moments before I was able to continue.
‘My sweet, gentle mother was heartbroken and terrified for the future, for I had five unwed sisters all needing dowries so that they might catch respectable husbands. I could not let the poor woman fret over such a burden. So all the money I had left from paying for my father’s treatments I gave to my mother to provide for her and my little sisters. I am a fool, as my friends so rightly say, for I left myself almost penniless, but what else could I do?’
I sighed heavily, and Pio, who has been well trained, reached out his tiny paw and stroked my cheek, laying his little head on my shoulder in a most affecting manner.
Dona Lúcia sighed almost as deeply as I had and, taking her cue from Pio, stroked my hand. ‘That such a thing should happen is tragic, tragic! But you mustn’t blame yourself. You did everything you could. You have been a jewel of a son to your parents and your sisters. A saint! No mother on earth could ask for better.’
I almost wished my mother had been there to hear me called a saint. Then she would realize that there are some people in this world who do appreciate my talents. But it was just as well she wasn’t for she might have disputed a few of the trivial details of my story. It was entirely true that I was half an orphan. You didn’t think I’d lie about something like that, did you? But my mother would tell you it was shame over my wicked and dissolute behaviour that killed the old man. Rather an unfair accusation, if you ask me. But then she had thought me a sad disappointment ever since I said my first word, which apparently was a word no mother would ever want to hear her son utter. She could be a harsh woman at times.
Dona Lúcia, on the other hand, was a charming if blessedly gullible creature, who was perfectly content that I was whatever a mother could wish for in a son. And that kind of touching faith is bound to bring out the best in any fellow. I swear by the time I left that perfumed courtyard she was almost on the verge of adopting me as her own kin.
I was to return in five days’ time when she would have my money … her money … ready for me to collect. She had originally proposed two weeks to gather the finances, but I had persuaded her that the ship needed to sail within
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