Secrets of Spain Trilogy

by Caroline Angus Baker

  “I can promise you that your grandmother was not a murderer. She was a wonderful woman. She was heartbroken after my father died. She was wealthy after her husband passed away, and she cared for me very well in a time when our nation was starving. I don’t know how she coped. There were men interested in her, but she refused them all. She said she had already had her great love. She told me that I was all she needed. It was her who pushed me to be a torero. She was the one who gave me the opportunity. She was the one who wanted me to build a family with a woman I loved. That is why, when I fell in love with your mother in a heartbeat, I knew I was doing the right thing. Mamá told me that when you lock eyes with your true love, you know it. That is what she did.”

  “So… you push for this life of family ties and bullfighting because that is what she wanted for you?”

  “She wanted me to honour my father, and to have the happy life that she didn’t have.”

  “So why keep her a secret?” Cayetano asked with a frown. It made no sense. “What is wrong with any of that?”

  “Things are never that simple. My reasons are just that – mine.”

  “So who was my grandfather? Was I named after him?”

  “My mother married a man named Ignacio Reyes Paz. Of course, I have no memories of him. But she did say to me once, one night when she was particularly teary, that if I had a son, that I should name him Cayetano.”

  “Why?”

  “It was her brother’s name.”

  “You have an uncle?”

  “No, he died before I was born.”

  “In the war? Was he a soldier?”

  “¡No escarbes el pasado!” Paco cried.

  “I’m not digging up the past! I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

  “Then don’t. Let’s go back to the car.”

  Father and son turned and headed back in the direction they had walked in; the total silence failed to fill the awkward space between them. Cayetano didn’t think that he had any reason to apologise to his father. Paco had no reason to stay quiet about his family. They were just normal people who had been through a difficult time. Every family in Spain had grandparents who could say the same. “You and your mother are right about one thing,” he said.

  Paco sighed. “What?”

  “About knowing when you love someone. The moment you look into their eyes, you know you have found something special. I know how you felt when you first looked at Mamá, and how abuela would have looked at abuelo. I have felt that.”

  Paco frowned at his son. “I thought you said you were sure that you and María were over.”

  “Who? No, not María, Papá. María was a mistake. I shouldn’t have married her. No… I am in love with another woman. I knew it the moment I looked at her.”

  “Cayetano…”

  “It’s Luna, Papá. The girl I saved from the bag-snatcher. I helped her up off the path, and I swear, the moment I looked at her, something in my life changed.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, boy,” Paco barked.

  “How is that ridiculous?” Cayetano scoffed. “You said that was how you felt when you saw Mamá for the first time.”

  “Yes, I was infatuated with her. It was lust as well.”

  Lust between his parents? Pass. “But you just told me about this romantic story of love at first sight that happened to you, and the same happened to your own mother! Did you just make that up? Why is it so hard to believe I felt like that?”

  “Because you make mistakes, and you’re already married.”

  “I recall it was you and Mamá who pushed me to marry María. Marry the girl from the wealthy and well-connected Medina family. I was the reluctant one, remember?”

  “Oh yes, blame us for your mistakes. That wouldn’t be new. At your age, Cayetano…”

  “At my age?” Cayetano cried. “I’m able to run my own life! But instead, I have my father as my manager, who wants to control my whole career and my personal life! I’m surprised I was even allowed to move out of home! At least Sofía has a life, even if it is not of a high enough standard for you and Mamá. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t feel!”

  “Yes, all right! Your mother and I… I loved her as soon as we met. And what happened? I got her pregnant, Cayetano. She was 15 years old. I was 30. What went on between us caused a lot of pain. Yes, it all worked out. Yes, you came into the world, and we loved you. Yes, the rifts it caused in her family did heal over time. But don’t think love at first sight is an instant happy ending.”

  “I’m not saying that my life has become a fairytale. I nearly lost my leg three weeks ago. My mind is in reality. But I am in love with Luna.”

  “Really? Do you even know her surnames?”

  “Luna Montgomery Merlini. At least… I think that is what her name is…”

  Paco rolled his eyes. “Terrífico.”

  “No… I mean… her surname is Montgomery. She is not Spanish, so she only has one family name. Merlini is her married name. I don’t know if she uses both or…”

  “She is another man’s wife? This just gets better.”

  “No!” Cayetano practically squealed in frustration. “Do you remember, a few years ago, there was one of those Tour de France cyclists, an Italian guy, who was killed in Valencia by some drunk driver?”

  Paco’s face screwed up. “Vaguely.”

  “That was Fabrizio Merlini. Luna was his wife.”

  Paco fell silent for a moment. “I am sorry to hear that. But…”

  “But even so, I’m in love with her! I know how crazy that sounds. You know I’m not one to speak like this, not to anyone. Papá, you only have to look at her and you will understand. There is something about Luna, like she is someone I already know. I swear to God…”

  “I swear to God that you want this New Zealand girl to seduce you. Think with your head, Cayetano.”

  “I seduced her,” Cayetano shot back.

  “Jesucristo en el cielo,” Paco swore under his breath. “She is as loose as the other women from her country.”

  “Papá! Just because you knew one woman, once, who was from New Zealand, and you didn’t like her, doesn’t mean a thing. I don’t know where you get your ideas from, but you have her all wrong. She is a good person, and strong, and a dedicated mother…”

  “She has children? A gold-digger then…”

  “Damn it!” Cayetano yelled as the pair reached Paco’s car parked near the entrance to the park. “Is it too much to ask to get a bit of support from you?”

  Paco fumbled in his pocket for his keys and eyed his son again. “When did you meet her?”

  “Three weeks ago.”

  “Before your goring.”

  “The day before.”

  “I couldn’t get hold of you the night before your performance. That morning you were late for preparation… were you with this woman? This grand seduction you speak of maybe? Did you fall and destroy the Beltrán name because you were with this woman who gives it away for free?”

  “I’m walking home. I can’t do this anymore.”

  “You can’t walk, it’s miles. You will hurt your leg.”

  “It can’t hurt any more than you hurt me, Papá,” he replied, and turned away from his father.

  “That suits me just fine. Maybe you can have a moment to think about how you’re being ridiculous.”

  Cayetano hobbled away from his father, and didn’t bother to look back. He would walk with his cane all the way to Valencia just to prove his father wrong. He was in love with Luna. He had only seen her a few times, and his father was right – he didn’t know her. Yet, somehow there was something that bound her to him.

  Once around the corner and out of sight, Cayetano stopped and leaned against the wall of the building. He rested his cane against the rough old brickwork and pulled his phone out, and flicked through the numbers. Luna Montgomery. It had been a week since she had left his kitchen. He had just admitted to his father – and himself – that he was in love with her, so there was no
reason not to call her.

  Fidgeting with his cane, Cayetano looked around him at the others going about their day on the street as the phone rang and rang. Now he had worked up the courage, she wasn’t going to answer. Maybe she was at work. He could almost imagine her on her bike – yellow she had said it was – in the park that weaved through Valencia city, as she pointed out the sights to English tourists. When the call clicked over to the answerphone, he became struck with panic. Leave a message? And say what?

  “Hola, este es Luna Merlini. Me dejan un mensaje. This is Luna Merlini. Please leave me a message.”

  Screw it. There was only thing to do – go to Valencia.

  7

  Cuenca, España ~ marzo de 1939

  Luna Beltrán stood in her bedroom and looked at her dress that hung on the single hook on the wall. It had hung there for some time, and she had wanted to wear it to the annual fiesta. It was made of beautiful, pure white full-length silk, which was something hard to get hold of at the moment. It was overlaid with delicate white lace, with delicate lace sleeves. Her father had got it made in Francia for Luna while she cared for her ailing mother. No one else had a beautiful dress like this. Luna knew that she lived in a nation where every day could be your last, but to have something so simple yet so precious lifted her spirits. The dress was a reminder of a better time than now. This white dress in Luna’s room was the single thing she owned that reminded her that life could be different. Better.

  It was almost time to head up to the plaza for the town meeting that had taken the place of the now cancelled fiesta, but Alejandro and Sofía were nowhere to be found. Her brother had gone to the hospital to meet his wife when she finished her shift, and neither had returned. Go on, Luna. Try on the dress. Of course, there was no reason to wear it tonight. This year they would bring the remaining people of the town together, who would get emotional about how they would to fight to save their lives.

  She changed into the gown and felt the softness of it against her body. If the day came that she had to flee Cuenca, the dress would be the only thing she would take with her.

  She turned sharply at the sound of a knock on the door. Alejandro had probably forgotten his key again. He did it all the time. No doubt her brother would tease her about the dress again. It had been Sofía’s wedding dress, but she wouldn’t mind Luna wearing it.

  “La chispa.”

  Luna’s eyes widened in surprise when she opened the door. There stood Cayetano Ortega; he looked all tidied up for a change. He wore a simple black suit, complete with tie. When he said he would dress up on the night of the fiesta, he had meant it. His curly black hair was shining under the single light that hung outside the door, and was bright as his smile. La chispa. The spark. “What is la chispa?” she asked.

  “You are. You’re the spark that sets off a blazing fire in me.”

  Luna couldn’t help but giggle and look away from him. Her cheeks that felt as if they were on fire. She had no idea what it was about her brother’s friend. She had known him for years. He had come to Cuenca from Madrid 10 years ago, when he was only 15, and alone. He was charming, and funny, and sensual, and so, so wrong for her. He was the man she couldn’t lust after. She had once been a proud Catholic girl – she shouldn’t have lusted after anyone. She was old enough to know that all women lusted for men, and this man, who was clearly very interested in her, was the man she loved. Not the man she had promised to marry at her father’s request.

  “Alejandro isn’t here,” she said. “He has gone to the hospital to get Sofía.”

  “That was a while ago,” Cayetano frowned. “He left me at the Libertad on the corner at least half an hour ago.”

  “You and Alejandro keep that bar in business. Any time I need to look for him, I know to check the Libertad.”

  “We men have much to discuss.”

  “You mean you and Alejandro talk on and on about all the bullfighting you both love but don’t get to enjoy anymore?”

  “That also. We don’t want to trouble you fine ladies with the details.”

  “You take Scarlett to the bar.”

  “Señorita Beltrán, are you jealous?”

  “Jealous? No,” she scoffed. “That bar is disgusting, as are the men who frequent the place.”

  “Men like me? I might head back there now. They have a fire, unlike my place. It’s cold out here.”

  Luna rolled her eyes. The cheeky look on his face was too sweet to deny. “Come in, the fire is on.”

  Cayetano stepped inside the dark living room and went straight over the dull orange glow of the fire in the stove and held out his hands, and felt them tingle in response to the warmth. “Thank you,” he said to Luna and watched her close the front door. “I realise it’s improper for me to come in when you’re at home alone.”

  “It’s you, Cayetano.” Luna stepped carefully over the wooden floorboards in her long dress. “I trust you.” It was herself that she didn’t trust.

  “You shouldn’t. I don’t trust myself. I have done things I’m not proud of.”

  “There’s a war on. What goes on in wartime is against all the rules that we live by. After all the battles you’ve fought in, the world can’t be the same for you.”

  “So… if I said that I came around here, even though I knew that Alejandro wasn’t home… would you mind?”

  “Why would you do that?” she said. Her heart jumped in her chest. She knew why; she hoped so anyway.

  “Because I have sat by for years, watching you at every opportunity. People are scared of what is about to happen. Life is about to change for us, and I have wasted too much time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Republicano leaders have left to live in exile, in Francia. We have been abandoned by those whose cause we fight. It’s bad enough that the Británico government endorsed the Nacionales government a few weeks ago. As soon as Franco’s troops get here, they will take our town, and that’s it. They will win. We are all as good as dead.”

  Luna ran her hands over her dress and took in the information. It felt so stupid to want the chance to wear a gown to a party when their lives were in danger. “We have to get Papá out of Madrid.”

  “I’m trying,” Cayetano replied and took a few steps over to her. “But an anarchist leader as well-known as Juan Pablo Beltrán is of course in danger. As soon as he is here, we are all going to go to Valencia, and hopefully we can get on a boat and out to Francia. Maybe then we can hide out somewhere. Scarlett is desperate to go home to Nueva Zelanda because… she… she just needs to get out of España. It’s been unkind to her.”

  “I thought Scarlett would have run to the front lines, gun in hand, to fight again.”

  “This time she can’t. She doesn’t want to abandon España, but it’s complicated. She has to leave.”

  “I don’t want to abandon España,” she said with defiance. “None of us should.”

  “I would kill every soldier to save us if I could do it, Luna. But we need to face reality – we will lose this war. Our chances of success are hindered now that the troops have got through to Vinaròs and cut Valencia off from Barcelona. We’re trapped.”

  “The rebels haven’t taken Madrid.”

  “Not yet they haven’t. I just want to move you all out to Valencia.”

  “You and Alejandro want to take up arms again, don’t you?”

  “I doubt it would help. I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry that I never danced with you when I had the chance.”

  “I wish you had asked me. I wish Alejandro or Papá would have allowed it. Juan Pablo and Isabel lost seven children. Alejandro and I were the only ones who made it to adulthood. You can’t blame them for being over-protective.”

  “I suppose that Juan Pablo thinks he has found a good husband for his daughter in Ignacio. He doesn’t want a man like me for you.”

  Luna could barely swallow; a lump of nerves was stuck in her throat. She shouldn’t have let him inside. It wasn’t proper.
She was a good girl, but it was as Cayetano said – they could all be dead very soon. The laws of propriety no longer applied. If the Republicans lost the war, their deaths would be brushed over in the annuals of history, and Cayetano and Luna would be just numbers lost in a war that the world had ignored for their own gain. Only Hitler and Mussolini were allowing their countries to engage in the war, and that brought nothing but misery. “Dance with me now.”

  Cayetano stepped forward and stood all but against her. “I’m afraid I’ve never danced before.”

  Luna took his right hand and placed it on her hip and took his left in hers. She tenderly placed her other hand on his shoulder. “Like this,” she said, not sure how close to stand to him, she had only ever danced with her father and brother before now. There was no use in showing him the steps; they could do no more than the slightest shuffle in the tiny dark room. What their feet did was irrelevant to her anyway. She was with the man who awakened her.

  “Did you know that love is like water?” he whispered in her ear. He watched her soft brown eyes look up at him innocently. She was so beautiful, so delicate; too good for him. She was Alejandro’s sister and Alejandro had told him not to touch Luna, but he couldn’t help himself. Alejandro knew about the night Cayetano had spent with Scarlett in Requena. That was proof to Alejandro that Cayetano would never be faithful to Luna. That night with Scarlett was a simple mistake, a moment of comfort. Everyone knew Cayetano wasn’t good enough for Luna Beltrán, except Luna. He wanted to be good enough for her. He would have done anything to change who he was to be a proper suitor for her affections.

  “How is it like water?”

  “Because you can fall in it and you can drown in it. I know that I can’t live without your love.”

  “If you send us away to Valencia, I might never see you again.”

  “The things that we love always leave us. Holding on to love is like holding on to sunlight – it can’t be done. The love you have in your heart can never leave. All you can truly ever have is the love that you have inside you. The love I have moves through my veins, and it’s so powerful that it burns me.”