Renaldo (21 page)

returned for the noonday meal. He confessed the obvious to Lydia, that he was

smitten by her and would like to stay in contact with her if she would not be

offended.

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Lydia countered by asking endless questions about his life in Argentina.

She had already been told certain facts by her mother. Señor De Seta was a

widower with no children, extremely wealthy, and a man of great influence

on both sides of the Atlantic. But she also wanted to know the more personal

details. Where did he live? How had he adapted to a life alone? What was

Buenos Aires like? Was there room for another woman in his life? His kiss

both startled and reassured her that there was.

Lonfranco stayed on at Lowliam for the next four days. When it was time

to depart for Southampton to catch his passage back to Argentina, Lydia and

Liam made the journey with him. His bond to the Peters family had cemented

quickly, and he invited whichever of the troupe that could make the crossing to

visit him in Argentina the following February. Liam Peters was heartened by

the suggestion, for that disgusting month happened to be bleak midwinter in

England, but midsummer in Buenos Aires.

Liam pretended to be interested in the structure of the ship’s hull while

the two lovers said their passionate good-byes on the wharf. The next time

Lonfranco set foot on English soil again, it would be one year hence, on the

occasion of his marriage to Lydia Anne Peters.

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The nuptials followed eleven months of ardent transatlantic

correspondence and a month-long visit to Argentina by Lydia and her

father. The young English woman had taken to studying Spanish in

preparation for her journey, and Lonfranco was surprised at her fluency and ease

with the language.

The visitors were escorted on grand tours of the capital and the surrounding

environs, with an accommodating stop at one of the many British pubs or cafés

always on the itinerary, lest Liam suffer from liquid culture shock. Lonfranco’s

special guests were treated to a performance at the Colon Opera House, a boat

cruise on the Rio de la Plata, a gala ball at Casa San Marco, and a polo match

at the very British Hurlingham Club, where Lonfranco vindicated himself for

his poor showing in his last match in England. All this and much more were

crammed into a very exhausting two weeks.

Finally it was time to depart for the much anticipated trip to Buenos

Recuerdos. Liam in particular had had his fill of the city life and the transplanted

snobs from ‘over ’ome.’ He told Lonfranco that he longed to fill his nostrils with

the smell of manure again.

Pergamino was just the place to satisfy his desire. Liam seemed a new

man as he spent hours inspecting livestock and learning about South American

breeding techniques. He was constantly in the company of Hector Brown,

the bilingual grandson of transplanted English stock. Brown had attained

the position of head overseer of the cattle operation at Buenos Recuerdos, and

was Lonfranco’s most trusted employee. This, of course, freed the proprietor

of the estancia to spend as much time as he pleased exploring the Pampas on

horseback with his ladylove. A guitar was always in evidence on these outings,

and often after a picnic lunch and several soulful tunes, they would make love

on a blanket ensconced in a world of their own.

Lydia’s attitude toward her sexuality had been strongly influenced by her

wartime experiences. Life had seemed so insignificant at the time, and pleasures

so fleeting. She had given herself first to a young captain in the Blackwatch

regiment, and then had heard of his death less than a month later. There had

been others after him, but she never considered herself promiscuous. She wanted

to give, to soothe, to comfort these poor boys to whom life had dealt aces and

eights. A dead man’s hand.

JAMES McCREATH

Lydia had not resisted Lonfranco’s amorous advances as they strolled in

that wooded glen near Lowliam many months before. She was afraid of losing

him, as she had all the others, but she also felt a stronger passion for this Latin

lover than she had ever previously experienced. After their relationship had

been consummated, she confessed her past liaisons with a forthrightness that

surprised, but did not offend her suitor. The slate was clean as far as he was

concerned, and he had told her so. The past was in the past, and it would stay

there forever. The topic was never discussed again.

Their parting was excruciatingly painful, and the months leading up to

the wedding seemed to move with the speed of a tortoise. When the wedding

party finally arrived from Argentina, it included several members of Porteño

society whom Lydia had preciously met, as well as a sprinkling of polo players

and business associates. In total, thirty-six people made the voyage from the

Southern Hemisphere to take part in the most talked about, widely publicized

social event in High Wycombe since the end of the war.

Lonfranco’s English business associates turned out in full force, kidnapping

him on his last night as a single gentleman, and forcing him to take part in

their loss of bachelorhood rituals. It mattered not that he was a widower, not a

bachelor, as he loudly protested.

“A red herring, old chap. Now come on, another pint and chug-a-lug this

time!” came the anonymous reply.

The ceremony, while Roman Catholic, did not offend the vast majority

of guests who were Church of England followers. The priest welcomed them

warmly, and even inserted a prayer and one hymn from their solemnization of

matrimony service so that the Anglicans would feel at ease.

As expected, Liam Peters saw to it that no one left the reception hungry or

thirsty, and the festivities continued until dawn. The newlyweds stole away to

the Hillingdon Inn just after midnight and took up lodging in the room where

Lonfranco had stayed the year before. It was the room in which they had been

alone together, ever so briefly, for the first time.

A honeymoon in Italy followed, then a short visit to Lowliam to say their

good-byes, and it was off to Argentina to start a new life together. That life

would be blessed by a baby in September of 1921, and Lonfranco finally felt

that his life was complete and fulfilled with the birth of his infant son.

Named Peter Figueroa De Seta, after the Peters’ surname and Lonfranco’s

mentor, the boy would be the shining star in his parent’s constellation. The

only cloud that appeared in the De Seta’s bright and happy life together was

Lydia’s inability to become pregnant again, due to complications during Peter’s

birth.

Lonfranco was not upset in the least at this news, for having lost a wife

and baby during childbirth already, he was thankful that he would not have to

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experience that ordeal again. He had his son, and the bloodline would endure.

What more could a man ask for?

The years passed quickly, with good health and financial success blessing

the De Seta household. Peter grew to be an intelligent, sensitive young man

with a faculty for the sciences. He was enrolled in the Newton Academy at

age six, and graduated twelve years later, cum laude and class president. He

continued on to medical school at the academy and became one of the top

pediatric surgeons in the country.

Life for Lydia and Lonfranco was idyllic during those years. Their love for

each other never faltered, and they doted on their son as if nothing else in the

world mattered. Lonfranco taught him to ride and play the guitar, much as old

Roc Sena had done for him. The boy was instilled with a love of the land and

its wildlife, as well as a respect for the almighty peso and the benefits that hard

work could reap.

He inherited his gentleness and tranquility from his mother. She read to

him in English, so that he would become fluent at an early age. She taught him

of the great poets and writers, and also of the wonders of the world and beyond.

She shared with him her stories of the horrors of war and warned him to always

avoid armed confrontation as a solution to a problem. She imbued him with a

true love for children with the many stories of her own childhood as one twelfth

of Liam Peters’ offspring.

It was with Lydia’s blessing that Peter decided to practice pediatric

medicine instead of pursuing a career in the family business, as his father

would have preferred. Lonfranco was not unduly upset about his son’s chosen

vocation and actually found the fact that there was an esteemed surgeon in the

family, a source of great pride.

The three De Seta’s traveled to England and Europe on many occasions to

renew old acquaintances with family and friends. All that came to an abrupt

halt in 1939, the year that Peter entered medical school and Adolph Hitler

entered Poland.

England was at war with Germany for the second time in two decades,

and, once again, the Peters family would encounter the grim reaper.

Brothers Edward and Toby, the guitar enthusiast, would perish in the

insanity that swept across Europe and infested the Pacific Rim. Argentina

again remained neutral, although the advances in mechanized transportation,

especially in the aviation field, made the world a much smaller place.

‘Splendid isolationism’ had become a phrase borrowed from the Americans

before their entry into the first Great War. Both the Allied and Axis powers

exerted enough pressure on Argentina to make the reality of the phrase far

from splendid. Nevertheless, by 1945, the storm had been weathered and life

returned to normal for the globe-trotting elder De Setas.

9

JAMES McCREATH

As always, Argentine politics remained volatile during this period, with

a succession of governments attaining then losing the favor of the masses.

Lonfranco continued to use his influence wisely, and this allowed the family

assets to continue to prosper.

In February of 1946, an opportunistic army officer by the name of Juan

Domingo Perón swept to power and began what would become the most

remarkable political career in Argentine history.

Perón had great appeal with the common people, but he also had a

firm grasp of the economic realities of the time. The military was a valuable

asset when it came to dealing with dissidents or troublemakers, but it was

the bankers and financiers that would determine the real fate of his regime.

The master politician played all the angles to perfection. Despite several well

documented public atrocities, Perón remained in the presidential palace for the

next nine years.

Juan Perón’s ascent to the presidency occurred in the same year as Peter

De Seta’s ascent to the surgical staff of the Children’s Hospital of Buenos Aires.

A kind and sympathetic practitioner, Peter was at his best in the company of

ailing youngsters.

Always wanting to do more for his young patients, he easily convinced his

philanthropic father to establish a summer camp for terminally ill children on

the banks of the Rio de la Plata, north of the city near Tigre.

The camp, optimistically named ‘No Se Preocupe’ or ‘Don’t Worry!’ was

Peter’s pride and joy. Every spare moment he could find was spent planning

further expansion or fundraising for new facilities.

His two other passions were the classical guitar, with which he often

entertained his adoring charges, and surprisingly for such a gentle man,

the Boca Juniors football team. Hard times had fallen on his alma mater’s

professional club, and Newton’s once lofty Prefects languished in the depth of

the Argentine third division table.

It was the pride, the color, and the passion of the Boca Junior’s fans that

were the siren’s call to Peter. The first time he ever witnessed a match at the

Bombonera, their raucous, rollicking, intimate stadium, he knew that he was

hooked. Perhaps it was his Italian roots finding a home and a cause, for there

was real passion in the heart of Peter De Seta, too, and on game days he would

often become one of ‘the bad and the brave’ on the Bombonera terraces.

He would buy blocks of tickets and give them away to the soccer mad

parents of his patients. It was not unusual to see a star player visiting one of

Peter’s wards in the hospital or teaching the children the game they loved on

the beach at No Se Preocupe.

One of the more prominent local families in Tigre happened to have a

direct connection to camp No Se Preocupe. Ernesto Robillar owned several

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ferries that plied the waters of the Tigre delta as tourist vessels. On weekends,

when hundreds of Porteños took the hour-long train ride to Tigre, they would

most likely step aboard one of Robillar’s boats. There they would continue

their escape further out into the delta, where parks lined with weeping willows