“Oh, I suppose it will get ruined,” Jaime said with a fake sense of disappointment.
“There isn’t any evidence against this Mariñelarena woman… Fuck it, I’ll release her to you, but I’ll need identification and your signatures. Mariñelarena’s in your care. Go and wait outside, there’s a side door around the corner.”
Jaime and Luis stood together outside, away from the stench of the prison and enjoyed a cigarette in the afternoon sun. “I like this city,” Luis said, rocking back and forward in his boots.
“You’ve seen the old town area and the prison,” Jaime scoffed. “Not a good tour.”
“But we can be whoever we want out here, not Padre’s workers.”
“Says the guy who just busted two women from prison using Padre’s connections and Paco’s fake signature!”
Twenty minutes passed before the tiny wooden side door opened, and the pair turned in interest. Two women appeared, squinting against the afternoon sun. One, the waitress and the other the loud mouth activist. Inmaculada recognised Jaime and hurried over. She smelled of the foul odour of the prison; her brown hair matted and filthy. She wore a simple brown dress, obviously thrown at her upon release, her feet bare. The way she walked suggested pain.
“What?.... How?...” she stumbled as she threw her arms around Jaime. “I don’t even know your name and you’ve saved my life!”
“I’m Jaime Morales,” he said with a smile, hoping Inmaculada wouldn’t kiss his cheeks. She wasn’t her usual self; those teeth weren’t clean.
“How can I ever thank you?”
“You already have, by talking my brother out from under that table, the night of the fire.”
“Fire,” Alazne scoffed. Dressed the same as Inmaculada, her hair also a knot of dishevelment. The pair had lice, too. Alazne looked dirty; her skin covered in something Jaime didn’t wish to identify. “That was no fire.”
“But we can’t talk about it, or we’ll go back to prison,” Inmaculada replied.
“Thank my brother, Luis,” Jaime said, and Inmaculada threw her arms around him. “He came up with the plan to assist you.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Inmaculada’s eyes filled with tears, and they trickled through the dirt on her face.
“Just go home, Inmaculada. Your family will be worried.”
“They have been. My mother has been by every day, but they wouldn’t let me see her.”
“I’ll find you a taxi,” Luis said.
“No need. I live just a 15 minute walk from here…”
“Nonsense, we’ll get you home safe,” Luis insisted.
“You must come inside and meet my family!”
Jaime stepped aside to Alazne, who looked to the cobbled ground. He offered her a cigarette, and she took it with gusto. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asked.
“No, I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Are you sure? You got released into my care.”
“Thanks, Jaime-boy. I don’t know why you helped me…”
“Neither do I.”
“I won’t stop from trying to bring on the death of the government.”
“I’m sure, Señorita Alazne.”
Alazne let Jaime light her cigarette, and she took off around the corner, barefoot. Just like that. Gone, again. Jaime turned to Luis and Inmaculada, and they headed to the main road in search of a taxi. Just another crazy day in Valencia.
9
Madrid, España ~ Abril de 2014
The best thing about the Beltrán manor in Madrid was the silence. In La Moraleja, outside the city, peace reigned. The houses, separated by huge yards and the masses of pine trees left standing when the area was first established north of Madrid, gave a sense of privacy and seclusion. With the road separated from the front yard with a gated and fenced area and a row of trees, the eight-bedroom home stood like a stone double-storey barrier to the backyard, also surrounded by trees. As Luna sat in the early summer sunshine, the children could run and play, shattering the peace with their laughter.
“The small things,” Cayetano mused as he sat on the wooden steps of the balcony next to his wife.
Luna nodded as she watched Giacomo and Enzo standing on the lawn spread before them, blowing bubbles for their tiny siblings. Paquito and Scarlett squealed with unfettered delight, trying to catch them, before the bubbles floated up, over the fence around the swimming pool and tennis court and disappeared into the clear sky.
Luna rested her head on Cayetano’s shoulder and closed her eyes under her dark sunglasses. She felt him kiss her forehead, and she smiled. “I have a secret.”
“This sounds ominous,” Cayetano chuckled and put an arm around her. “Is this about the get together with Jorge?”
“No, no, nothing about the Escondrijo. It’s about Darren. He’s is keeping a secret from Sofía, which means I have to keep it from you.”
“Cabrón.”
“Darren is not an asshole. He’s just… not sure yet…”
“What has he done?”
“He might get a huge new cycling job next year.”
“Why keep that a secret? At least he has something to do after his retirement, unlike me.”
“Don’t make this about you, Caya. Darren’s deal isn’t certain yet, so he is waiting to share it with everyone.”
“But he told you?”
“Well, yes. Darren said he is interested in hiring me if he gets to manage a whole racing team.”
“When did he say this?”
“About a week ago.”
“And you’re just telling me now?”
“There was no point in saying anything since it’s just a dream at this stage.”
“So why tell me now?”
“I don’t know… I was just thinking about it… working in pro-cycling again.”
“You want to work? What about the children?”
“It’s a flexible job. I can handle both. I raised Giacomo and Enzo and worked. Flexible hours will mean I’m still a full-time mother.”
“That’s impossible if you’re away for work.”
Luna lifted her head from Cayetano’s shoulder and sat up straight. “Why are you mad?”
“I’m not.”
“Then don’t raise your voice.”
“I thought things were fine here, for both of us.”
“For you.”
“And where would you live if you got this job? Valencia?”
“I don’t know.”
“So you haven’t thought this through at all. Preciosa, we have the perfect life here, so why ruin it?”
“What happens after you retire?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe we could relax for a while, perhaps take the kids on a holiday somewhere. New Zealand even if you wanted.”
“Darren got me a job on this year’s Tour de France – I get to ride on the lead motorbike and assist the lead riders with their time strategies.”
“You mean be the girl who holds the chalkboard, so the leaders know how far in front they are?”
“Well, yes.”
“You want to go motorbike riding for three weeks with Darren?”
“It’s his farewell Tour de France.”
“It’s my farewell season but you don’t come along to support me.”
“I’ll be at Las Ventas next week.”
“That is not the same, Luna. I have fights in July, who would care for the children while you’re in France?”
“I checked the schedule – you only fight in France in July. You have a fight in Nimes the day after I get there with the race! I have a rest day, so you could fight, and I could be there. It’s tight, but it’s achievable.”
“And you want to be away from the children for three weeks? Shit, Luna, there was a time when you wouldn’t let me take them for a walk down the street without your supervision.”
“That would be very hard… Perhaps you could come along on the Tour? You aren’t fighting much in July.”
“Is that practical?
”
“Can’t we figure something out? This trip is my only chance.”
“When we got married you said cycling no longer gave you what you needed, and this new life did.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t love the same things as always. It’s not work; it’s a volunteer role if that’s a concern. I won’t be getting paid; you’ll still be the family breadwinner. I don’t want your ego hurt.”
“Oh, you’re funny today. I worked for our life here, Luna.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Of course, but my retirement is already putting everything at risk.”
“Then let me pick up the slack, Caya.”
“Don’t worry, la chispa, I will take care of everyone. We’ll see if you can take your holiday in France.” Cayetano turned away from Luna as he heard the familiar sound of Jaime’s voice come from inside the house.
“My holiday,” Luna muttered under her breath.
“My treasured nephew,” Jaime said as he wandered through the doors from the living room and out onto the balcony. He wound his way around the expensive outdoor furniture and embraced Cayetano, kissing him on both cheeks. “How are you this afternoon?”
“Fine, tío Jaime,” Cayetano replied and looked over his uncle’s shoulder to see Paco there. “Papá, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Nice to see you too, hijo,” Paco joked as he kissed Luna hello.
“Kids, say hello to our guests,” Luna called.
“Hola,” came a song from Giacomo and Enzo, who went back to whatever game they had devised with their babies.
“Caya, go and fetch us some drinks,” Paco said as he sat down next to Luna, and Jaime followed.
“But…” Cayetano began.
“That’s why he got married,” Luna replied, “so I could do everything for him.”
“Nonsense,” Paco dismissed his son. “Luna looks after everyone while you run off all over the country. I will sit with my daughter-in-law and you will fetch the drinks, Caya.”
Cayetano shuffled off towards the kitchen and Paco turned to Luna. “Is everything well with you, my young one?”
“Your son just gave me a bitch-slap with his words and didn’t even notice,” she replied with a smile.
“That sounds about right. Should I punish Caya the way I did when he was a teenager?”
“What was that?”
“Make him run laps of the paddocks at Rebelión,” Jaime replied. “Or for those months we spent living in apartments in Madrid when Caya was 16, around the streets.”
“Yes I would like that. I’m glad you’re here, Paco. I need to talk to you about something important…”
Jaime could take Luna’s hint. “I’ll go and pretend to help Caya,” he said with a wink and went back inside the house.
“Is something wrong, hija?” Paco asked with a frown.
“No, no. But it’s Escondrijo. The bodies,” Luna lowered her voice. “Three bodies are identified, which leaves the young woman… The suspected mother of Jaime and his brothers…”
“Oh. Is it time to deal with that?”
“I’m afraid so. And the bodies of Sofía Perez and Cayetano Ortega.”
“Can’t they stay at Escondrijo?”
“They can; I suppose. Sofía was your biological mother; it’s up to you. I’m the single surviving relative of Cayetano Ortega, that we know of…”
“Apart from King Juan Carlos himself.”
“I doubt the King wants to dig up the body of his bastard half-uncle. Besides, no DNA evidence, so no royal link.”
“True. Can I think about what we should do? I can’t face it. I’ve made peace with the fact that my mother, Luna Beltrán, was my aunt. Alejandro Beltrán and Sofía Perez still don’t feel like my real parents, even after five years of the truth.”
“I understand. We don’t have to do anything at the moment. The bodies are not even registered with the association digging up the war bodies. It’s the body of the girl - Jaime, Pedro and Luis’ biological mother - which is the issue.”
“Both José and Consuela are dead now. All three brothers made peace with the death of their parents, and now their sister is dead, too.”
“Except Inés was not their real sister.”
“And I’m glad Inés never found out that fact,” Paco said. “My wife loved her younger brothers.”
“They were her brothers in all the ways that count.”
“If we tell the Morales brothers that they’re adopted, and we knew for years and kept the secret, they will hate us, Luna.”
“I assumed that.”
“Let me dwell on it.”
Cayetano and Jaime returned a moment later, Cayetano carrying a tray filled with coffee. He set it down the steps of a long wide balcony as everyone settled back into relaxing in the sun.
“So let’s just get it out there,” Paco announced. “I want to come back to work full-time as your manager, Caya. It is your final season, and you can’t do anything but be the best.”
“Jaime managed me just fine last season, and this year so far,” Cayetano said.
“I appreciate that, Caya,” Jaime said, “but now it’s time for me to go back to work at Rebelión, if there’s any work for me.”
“Are things bad at Rebelión?” Luna asked.
“We make a profit,” Paco said. “The recession is still biting hard, but, you know, councils still pay big money for fights, much to the disdain of their townspeople. Since we cut back on staff, things have been easier.”
“My daughter, Mirabel,” Jaime said, “Her husband has got a new job in Salamanca, so I don’t need to support them or the kids anymore. My other daughter, Rosa, just got the rarest of treats – a promotion at work. So just Alonso and Eduardo need work, but as long as Cayetano is fighting, they are employed. Alysa and I will always have a home at Rebelión.”
“And Luis had good news this morning,” Paco added. “His youngest, Sara, her restaurant in Alicante is doing well. Thanks to having her sisters Benita and Carina working there, that branch of the Morales family is going well.”
“So we just have Hector to worry about,” Cayetano said.
“Once he finishes as your personal assistant, maybe he can be a waiter for his sisters,” Jaime joked.
“Miguel is happy is Rebelión, though working with his father Pedro each day strains their nerves,” Paco said with a sigh. “But with no other work, Miguel is stuck with his father for now.”
“Miguel can come on the road with us more often,” Cayetano offered.
“Life at Rebelión isn’t all bad,” Paco said. “With cooks like Isadora, Alysa and Jovana living at the main house, we live like kings!”
“Jaime?” Luna asked, “You never told us the story about the time you met your wife. You never mentioned how you ended up in jail in Valencia either?”
“Those two stories are interlinked,” Paco said with a grin. “José has departed this world, so we can talk about it again.”
“Padre was so furious with me!” Jaime said, as he watched the children play nearby, laughing and dancing together to a tune Enzo sang. “José expected good brides for my brothers and me. Inés had married well with Paco, and we were next. Pedro married Jovana, after a quick engagement. One minute Pedro was being nursed in the hospital after the Cafetería Rolando bombing. Next minute he and his nurse got married! Luis and I were expected to marry well; luckily Isadora was such a catch.”
“You met Alysa in Valencia, didn’t you?” Luna quizzed.
“I did, during one of Spain’s most difficult periods. Christ, I get nervous just mentioning it. I still expect Padre to stalk out here and tell me to shut up at once.”
“Why couldn’t you talk about what happened?” Luna asked.
“It was the only time I ever disobeyed Padre.”
“Sounds like a story you need to share,” Cayetano said. “Come on, Uncle Jaime, none of us are strangers to misbehaviour.”
“One day, I promis
e.”
~~~
Deep laughs, high spirits. The sound of children playing, the voices of men buoyant and laid back. Nothing mattered tonight; Cayetano would take to the sand at Las Ventas, the bullfighting capital of the world. Another sell-out crowd. Tonight held no melancholy. No murky visions of the future, no contemplations of what might be, could or couldn’t be. Tonight the great ‘El Valiente’ would take on the second and fifth bulls of the night, put in the middle of the six fights to tease the crowd. The audience would be knowledgeable and demanding. In Madrid, a torero would fight not only the bulls, but also the drafty winds which haunted Las Ventas, and the audience. Those who paid double or triple for seats in the shade would be comfortable for the first few performances. But once the warm sun set behind them, the wind would take over and gnaw at the bones of all who sat on top of one another on the concrete steps and worn cushions.
“They have the largest, meanest, bulls available from Hoy de Manzanares.” Pedro boasted, as he put his feet up on the dark wooden coffee table. Cayetano’s bachelor apartment in Madrid had become home to his cousin Eduardo, his wife Elena, and their two young daughters. Still, Las Ventas fights meant the apartment became ground zero for preparations, since tradition dictated Cayetano always prepare in his pre-wedding apartment. “Tonight, Caya will be terrific.”
“There is no equal,” Jaime said next to his brother on the dark leather couch. A picture of Cayetano in full dress hung behind them on the pale-painted wall, the sun pouring in the nearby window.
“What about me, Papá?” Eduardo joked to Jaime. “You’re here, in my borrowed apartment, with your feet up, so the least you could do is praise your banderillero sons.” Eduardo and Alonso were not in their traje de luces’ yet; they dressed at the arena while Cayetano got all the attention. The brothers had their hair slicked back in an identical style.
“This is still Cayetano’s apartment,” said Elena, Eduardo’s wife. She had dressed up in a beautiful green summer dress, smooth and well-defined; like her features. Her two daughters played in the kitchen with Giacomo and Enzo, the four of them entertaining Paquito and Scarlett with much delight, accompanied by the pastries Elena had given them. “So no feet on the tables, Señores.” Elena shoved her father-in-law’s feet off the table and the same with Pedro’s.
Secrets of Spain Trilogy Page 97