Jardim Cruzeiro (Crucifix Garden), January 1999

Francisca knocks on the door of Senhor Higino dos Santos. According to her sister-in-law, Livia, he ‘receives’ spirits, although only when he is suffering from his nerves. But Francisca does not want to talk to him in his spiritual capacity as a Candomblé priest – she has come to discuss a delicate subject. ‘Come in, my daughter’, he says, motioning her with his fleshy black hand into the dark room. It has brick walls, a concrete floor and no windows; once he shuts the street door the only light is from a candle on the table. He motions her small frame towards a chair on one side of the table. His huge form laps over the seat of the chair on the other. Francisca does not know how to start. She stares at the divining shells on the table. He stares at her voluptuous lightbrown cleavage and divines the cause of her embarrassment. ‘If you don't want to bring another child into the world, then I can prepare something for you. Cravo tea. Have you heard of it?’ Francisca nods her head and answers, ‘Yes, my sister-in-law told me to come to you.’ He lifts his great frame up and goes through a curtain just behind her. Francisca makes a plan: ‘I will prepare it early tomorrow morning, and then, if Livia is right, I should be rid of it by the afternoon novela’.