Secrets of Spain Trilogy

by Caroline Angus Baker

  ~~~

  Consuela lay awake in the bed, and prayed little Inés wouldn’t be woken by the pounding rain. With luck, the child slept in her new bed across the room.

  The front door burst open, and Consuela sat bolt upright on the mattress. She fumbled for her new silk nightgown, and fought it on in the dark as she went into the front room.

  There stood José, dripping buckets of water onto the wooden floor. He took laboured breaths, as if he had run up the three flights of stairs. In one arm hung a newborn baby, who bawled; in the other José held two other children, jammed together inside his gigantic arm, both clutching his wet uniform.

  “Querido, what’s going on?” Consuela asked as she fumbled for the light switch.

  José’s eyes squinted as he adjusted to the light. “My darling, I need your help.”

  Without a word, Consuela took the crying newborn from José’s negligent hold and cradled him in her arms. The poor child seemed freezing, his clothes soaked and threadbare. José put the other two on the floor, and they both began to cry as well; one could stand, but one sat on the floor, lost in his own confusion.

  “That one,” José pointed at the older child, “is about two years old, named Pedro. That one,” he pointed to the smaller one, “is about one year old and named Jaime. The baby is named Luis and is about two months old.”

  “Where did they come from?” Consuela asked as she swayed the wet baby, who began to respond to the cuddle.

  “Abandoned,” José lied to his wife. “They’ve just been found, and they need somewhere to stay tonight.”

  “These poor children,” Consuela said and sat down on the floor next to the other boys. “They are so beautiful.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Oh they are.” José could hear the soft and besotted tone in Consuela’s voice. “All these children need is a bath, fresh clothes and a meal. A little love can go a long way.”

  José paused and watched her sit with the children, who both responded to her gentle voice with a smile through their tears. The love she had for children outranked anything José had ever witnessed. “Keep them,” he blurted out.

  “What?”

  “Keep them. They have no parents.” José looked at the children; while they were cute, they bore no resemblance to their beautiful mother, which was a good thing.

  “Adopt them?”

  “I can get the paperwork to say we are the biological parents. People do it, we could too.”

  “Nonsense. Besides, it’s one thing to say you’ve just had a baby, but the older two? How do we lie to people about that?”

  “We hide! We move! I don’t know, Consuela.” José rubbed off the drops of rain that ran from his hat and onto his face. “Please, my sweetheart, I need help. I must go back on duty; Fermín is waiting. Can you watch the children for me?”

  “Of course. Inés is asleep so I can help these little ones.”

  José paused a moment longer to watch Consuela; her eyes gleamed with pleasure at the sight of the children. José smiled in spite of himself. He had just given his wife what she wanted. He had done God’s work; saved children from someone who didn’t deserve them, and gave them to a woman who did. Now he needed to find a burial spot in the mountains, and all would be well.

  28

  Madrid, España ~ Mayo de 2010

  Luna sat on the end of the bed, her eyes closed. Her tongue felt as if it swelled in her mouth as it always seemed to before she threw up. She took a few deep breaths through her nose, and the rising sensation of illness subsided again. Luna opened her eyes, which adjusted to the faint light of the lamp across the room. She looked at Giacomo and Enzo, both asleep in their beds. Her young sons had slept the whole way to Madrid, hot and uncomfortable with a nasty dose of the cold. Bringing them to Madrid, which had not yet embraced warm spring temperatures like Valencia, would do them no favours. At 6:30 in the evening, they were asleep, in Cayetano’s apartment, and the thought of leaving them to join the crowds outside for the San Isidro fiesta didn’t appeal. But tonight was Cayetano’s biggest fight of the year, the main attraction at Las Ventas.

  Luna got up from the end of Giacomo’s bed and touched his forehead. The boy didn’t stir and seemed cooler than earlier in the day. She turned and felt Enzo; he too had cooled down again. It was just a fever, but the thought of them waking while she was out, and feeling alone, broke Luna’s heart.

  Out in the hallway, footsteps passed the children’s room. As per tradition, the apartment filled with Cayetano’s family, all in the living room while the star torero prepared in silence, in his dressing room. Luna had been in with Giacomo and Enzo for over an hour while everyone arrived, and she couldn’t deny she was avoiding all of them. Cayetano’s sister Sofía wasn’t coming tonight, instead refusing to be part of the whole bullfighting ‘charade’, as she called it, so Luna’s only friend wasn’t in attendance. Inés had promised to watch the boys, but Luna felt awful. She would stand behind the barrier at Las Ventas with Paco and José. One liked her, the other despised her. Luna hadn’t spoken to any of the Morales clan since the fight at Rebelión weeks ago. She hadn’t spoken to Miguel since the idiotic kiss at Escondrijo. She knew he and Cayetano had words over the incident.

  Luna jumped as her phone vibrated in her pocket. She left her sleeping boys and stood out in the hallway, not registering the number on the screen.

  “Hola, esta es Luna.”

  “Luna, hello, it’s Jorge Arias, from the historical memory association.”

  “Hey, Jorge. I’m surprised to hear from you on a public holiday.”

  “My entire operation runs out of my apartment, so I can never escape my work. I got your DNA test results yesterday, but I didn’t have a chance to call you until now. I suppose you’re busy with bullfighting today.”

  “I’m trying to avoid all that as best I can.”

  “I’m no fan of the spectacle myself.”

  “It’s hard not to feel degraded by being there, witnessing the whole thing.” Luna paused; hopefully no one had heard that statement. “The test results came back fast.”

  “You’re in luck; we have opened a few other sites, and none produced any human remains, so your bone was a bit of a treat. Plus, the lab staff go on holiday next week, so they rushed the test through so they could have a few extra days off for San Isidro.”

  Ah, the time-honoured Spanish tradition of puente, bridging a gap between a weekend and middle-of-the-week public holiday. It finally had a proper use.

  “I may not have the news you wanted to hear, Luna.”

  Luna frowned; she wasn’t sure what she hoped to achieve. “Please, any news will be enlightening.”

  “A quick search through the database shows we have no matches to the bone in our system. Also, the date of the finger doesn’t suggest a civil war grave site. The bone is not old enough, most likely from the fifties, not the thirties.”

  Luna couldn’t help but sigh, but suppressed the flicker of disappointment. The thought of finding someone murdered and uncovered had a sense of justice, but that had disappeared. “What happens now?”

  “Well,” Jorge said with a sigh, “due to the haphazard nature of these operations, no one knows you have a grave out there. We could do nothing and there would be no problem with that. I asked them to do the test again, to check if the bones were from the forties, since the Franco regime murdered plenty of people around that time. In the fifties, most of the reprisal killings were finished.”

  “The Porta Coeli monastery near Escondrijo was open until 1956. Plenty of people died and disappeared there.”

  “That is something to consider. While people focus on bodies from the civil war era, plenty were murdered post-war, as well. You would do well to find who lived at Escondrijo in the fifties.”

  “I know who lived there, a man named Alejandro, who I inherited the land from after he died. He moved there in the fifties after he got out of jail, and it was abandoned after the last owner fled in 1938.”<
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  “And he’s dead?”

  “Sadly, yes, Alejandro died just after Christmas.”

  “That’s the inevitable problem with the line of work I do, Luna. Twenty years ago there were people alive and able to help locate and identify bodies. Now we are running out of time as people pass away.”

  “What can we do with these bodies?”

  “We can unearth them. With lack of access up on that hillside, we will have to dig by hand, uncover and package up the bodies and transport them to the facility here in Madrid. We may be able to match bodies through DNA, or a little detective work in the surrounding area and its inhabitants may be in order. As soon as we begin a dig, people come forward to share stories. Someone may be able to help us with your bodies, even if they aren’t civil war era. If your friend Alejandro had nothing to do with their deaths and no one lived at Escondrijo before him, the bodies had to get there somehow. It may not be a ‘conventional’ mass grave, but a mystery all the same.”

  “What should I do?”

  “That’s up to you, Luna. I know the notion of the bodies being put in containers does upset people, at least they are being thought of, and looked after as they deserve.”

  “I want to know who these people were and what happened to them.”

  “Unearthing them would be a decent start. There is a significant difference between bodies laid to rest and bodies dumped or hidden. If you are prepared to go ahead with the project, we can help, but there are costs involved.”

  “I’m happy to cover costs.” Luna paused; she heard the bang of a cupboard in Cayetano’s dressing room.

  “I will call you in the next few days, and we can make a plan. Tonight, my girlfriend is dressing up in her traditional San Isidro outfit, and we are going to the parade in Lavapies.”

  “Makes a change from wielding placards in Puerta del Sol.”

  “But no less crazy!”

  “Hasta luego, Jorge.”

  Luna put her phone in her back pocket and knocked on Cayetano’s door. “Who?” she heard him bark.

  “Me.”

  “In that case, come on in.”

  Luna opened the door to see Cayetano standing before the full length mirror across the room. She shut the door behind her and noticed his prodigious wardrobe wide open, where rows of glorious traje de luces’ hung in silence. Each sparkled in the gentle overhead lighting. Cayetano glanced at Luna’s reflection in the giant mirror as he adjusted the shoulder straps of his tight taleguillas, his tight royal blue pants. “What can I do for you, my darling?” he asked, his face serious. “I thought I could hear your voice.”

  “I was on the phone in the hallway. I guess I’m breaking an ancient bullfighting rule by being in here with you.”

  Cayetano stepped his long pink silk socks into his zapatillas, his black bullfighting shoes, and smoothed his slicked black hair behind his ears. “You’re the one person allowed in this room, you already know that.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Excited, not nervous. Has Miguel apologised to you yet? I told him he had to, or I would fire him.”

  “I haven’t spoken to anyone, I’ve been in the boys’ room.”

  “Of course, how are they?”

  “Okay.” Luna paused and sat down on the enormous white couch underneath the arched window. “With a virus they feel terrible, but it’s short and no harm is done. They will be okay.”

  “Lucky it’s a public holiday and school is closed.”

  “Not in Valencia, only Madrid. But I see what you mean, they can’t attend school.”

  Cayetano turned back to the mirror and readjusted his corbatín, a narrow black tie. “With the wedding weeks away now, you will need to be in Madrid more and more. They will miss even more school.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Now that you aren’t competing in the Tour de France, we need to book another honeymoon. A proper one. I was thinking the Canaries, or Morocco.”

  “Hot.”

  “You bet.”

  “I prefer the Pyrenees in the north; it’s cooler for the boys.”

  Cayetano looked Luna in the eye through the reflection in the mirror. “You want to take the boys on our honeymoon?”

  “Yes, of course I do. Caya, they’re six years old.”

  Cayetano raised his eyebrows for moment. “Is there any point in trying to change your mind?”

  “Nope.”

  “Imagine all the fun we could have on our own. We could leave them with Mamá and Papá for three, four days and then come and get them, and carry on somewhere else.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it. It’s not because I don’t want them around, I’m just aiming for time for us. We’re not very adept at alone time.” Cayetano ran his hands over his chaquetilla, his short jacket, the intricate embroidery rough on his scarred hands. Luna watched him take a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He exhaled and opened them again. She watched him move his arms gracefully as if he held his cape. “Are you ready to go out there? The bullring is sold out tonight.”

  “I’m ready. With all the craziness of going back and forward to Valencia hasn’t helped, but being in Madrid for the last week to relax has helped. Tonight needs to be perfect.”

  “Do you remember that guy, Michael, who first showed me Escondrijo and found that apartment by Mercado Colón for Darren?”

  “Sure, the English real estate agent guy.”

  “He’s branching into property management for holiday rentals. He says an apartment like mine could fetch a reasonable price. It’s not guaranteed income every week. But for things like Las Fallas and the Formula One racing, I could earn top dollar renting out my place, and on quieter weeks, too. Some people prefer rentals near the beach, and out of the old town. I could earn more per week renting out my apartment than being a part-time bicycle guide, like when you met me.”

  “But where would you live?” Cayetano frowned as he spun on the smooth marble floor and looked at Luna.

  “I could live here with you, if you don’t mind three houseguests.”

  Cayetano shook his head. “Did you just agree to move to Madrid? Because I could swear, just a few weeks ago we argued, and neither of us wanted to move.”

  “We could try it for a year or two, and see how it goes. Neither of us wanted to change cities, but you have more to lose than me, so I have to let you win.”

  Cayetano sat next to Luna, his suit uncomfortable. “I will repay this kindness, you know that,” he said as she took his hands.

  Luna watched the soft pad of his thumb rub over the back on her hand, close to where her heavy diamond engagement ring sat on her finger. “One day at a time for now, ¿sí?”

  “Sí.” Cayetano leaned close and took her lips with his. Rather than the typical passionate kiss, instead he was gentle and calm with her. Luna felt one of his strong hands against her back of her head in desperation to hold her close. Luna could see the flickers of green in his dark brown eyes. “I’ll do anything you need to make the move easier, okay?”

  Luna nodded, and Cayetano kissed her again. “Renting out my apartment means I don’t let go of the home Fabrizio bought for me and the boys. It makes it much easier. Should have thought of it months ago.”

  Cayetano smiled and Luna noticed the ever-emotional man had the glint of a tear in his eye. “I thought you loved Valencia more than me.”

  “I love you more… just.”

  “Is that a joke?”

  “Umm…”

  Cayetano chuckled and leaned away from Luna just a little. “I keep waiting for the catch here.”

  “We don’t need to worry about anything else tonight.”

  “So there is a catch?”

  “I will still need to go to Valencia sometimes.”

  “I assumed that.”

  “There is still Escondrijo to restore.”

  “Okay, we can have it as our holiday home if that makes you happy.”

  “I would like that.
I would also like to have the bodies in the grave moved. The DNA tests are back; the bones aren’t civil war era.”

  “You’ve been dealing with that again?”

  “They are from the fifties and need to be buried in a cemetery. They can be recovered and put in storage until they can be named and reburied.”

  Cayetano’s face folded into a disapproving expression. “You still went ahead with the tests, even after all the times I said I didn’t think it was a good idea?”

  “Caya, this is marvellous news. These people can be moved and rest in peace as they should have the first time. We can get on with Escondrijo. I know the search for my grandfather brought trouble, but this isn’t the same thing.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what Papá and Papí say about this.” Cayetano got out of his seat and paced back and forward a few times.

  “You just said you would make my move to Madrid easy. Smoothing this over is part of that. Dealing with the graves and José’s weird problem with it is part of making things easier, Caya. I need you on my side.”

  “I can’t believe you would bring up this problem right before I’m due to go in the ring.”

  “I’m saying that it can be solved, Caya, not that we have a problem! We don’t have to tell anyone about this. Sweetheart, I’m not trying to upset you. I’m delivering good news here. Escondrijo is no longer a problem. We can get on with our lives.”

  “I never talk to anyone when I prepare for a fight,” Cayetano muttered under his breath and shook his hands. “Don’t ruin this for me. María always stayed out of my way.”

  “Wow, that’s the first time you’ve ever wanted me to do something the way your ex-wife did.”

  “It must be time to go.” Cayetano grabbed the door handle and left the room without another word.

  Luna followed him down the hallway past the boys’ room and into the living room, filled with the whole family. Paco and Inés sat on the couch with José and Consuela. Around the room were the ever faithful cousins Hector, Alonso, Eduardo and Miguel. Cayetano’s uncles, Pedro, Jaime and Luis all sat at the glass dining table across the room.