‘Bring some baby clothes too,’ I advised him, also telling him the location of Ally’s birth certificate. Having given him instructions on how to get to Sacromonte, I called Ma, and I could hear the deep emotion in her voice. After all, in essence, it was her first grandchild.
‘I cannot wait to see him and Ally,’ she said. ‘Please send her all my love and congratulations.’
‘I will. And, Ma, are you sure it’s still okay that I’m coming home to see you?’
‘Of course it is, Tiggy. I would like nothing more than to care for you. I only hope you are well enough to make the journey.’
‘I am, Ma, I promise.’
‘You must be at the private jet hub at Granada airport by four thirty. So, I will see you later tonight. Safe journey, chérie.’
I walked back along the path in the bright sunshine, still feeling guilty about the private plane, but also thinking how my past and my present seemed to have collided here.
‘The old world and the new world,’ I murmured as I approached the hotel. The fact that Ally’s baby had been born in the same bed as I had made it all the more poignant. And as for Charlie . . .
‘Tiggy, can I have a word before I leave?’
Talk of the devil . . .
‘Yes, of course.’ I nodded briskly as I hovered by the iron gates. I saw Marcella eyeing us with interest.
Charlie stood up from where he’d been eating his breakfast. ‘Shall we go and sit on the wall? Might as well enjoy the view for the last time.’
He walked through the gates and led me a short way up the narrow path, so we were free from prying eyes.
I hopped up on the wall, my legs dangling like a child’s, as he merely sat on it, his feet touching the ground.
‘I have to go in ten minutes, but . . .’ he sighed. ‘It’s time I came clean with you, Tiggy.’
‘About what?’
‘The future. Yours, mine, Kinnaird’s . . . It’s just not fair on you if I don’t. With your instincts, you’ve probably guessed something was up anyway.’
‘Yes, you seemed so enthusiastic at Christmas and then you left and . . . to be honest, Charlie, I felt you were avoiding me or something.’
‘I was, yes, or at least, not you, Tiggy, but the situation. I just didn’t know what to say. Put it this way, this is a conversation I’ve got to have with Cal and the other members of staff when I get back. I was trying to wait to see if there was any other way, but having gone down every possible avenue, I really don’t think there is one.’
‘You mean, the estate is bankrupt?’ I asked him.
‘I wouldn’t go that far, to be fair.’ He gave me a wry smile. ‘I mean, there’s not any cash in the coffers, but forty-five thousand acres, plus a very nicely refurbished house – even with a loan on it – is worth something.’
‘Oh, I’m really sorry, Charlie. Zed told me it was bankrupt.’
‘Yes, he mentioned that to me too when he called me to offer to buy it.’
‘Oh my God! He told me that he was thinking about it. You haven’t said yes, have you? Not that it’s any of my business of course,’ I added hurriedly.
‘No,’ Charlie chuckled. ‘Even though the offer he made me was healthy. In a way, I wish I could consider offers, but that’s the trouble. At the moment, I can’t do anything.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s a very long story. Put simply, my right to inherit the Kinnaird estate has been challenged. Therefore, until it’s sorted out in the courts, the estate isn’t mine to sell.’
‘What?! But that’s ridiculous! You’re the rightful heir – the only heir . . .’
‘Well, that’s what I thought, yes, but it seems I was wrong.’
Charlie gazed across the peaceful valley, his eyes moving up to the Alhambra above us. He let out a long sigh and in it, I could hear all the weariness he felt.
‘But who’s challenged you?’ I asked him.
‘Would you mind if I don’t go into detail? As I said, it’s a long story, and I’ve got to leave for the airport in five minutes. I’m telling you this, because until the situation is sorted out, my hands are tied. I can’t do anything other than keep Kinnaird ticking over, which means all the plans we had are on hold. And knowing how long it takes for this kind of thing to even come to court, it could be years before there’s a resolution. Please, Tiggy, don’t take what I’m saying as a dismissal,’ he added hastily, ‘there’s still a job for you at Kinnaird for as long as you want, and I’d love you to stay on, of course I would, but equally, it’s not fair of me to pretend that your job spec will be extended in the near future. I’m aware that you’re capable of a lot more than babysitting four wildcats. It’s not what you’ve spent five years of your life training for, is it? What I’m trying to say, Tiggy,’ Charlie hurried on, ‘is that once we’ve got you better, even though it pains me to say so, you may want to look for another job. I’d never forgive myself if I was in any way holding you back from what promises to be your brilliant career.’
I looked at his almost perfect profile and it took everything I had not to reach out my hand to his.
‘I’m so sorry, Charlie. It sounds like a nightmare.’
‘It’s not been great, but having said that, I’m not going to feel too sorry for myself. No one’s died and myself and my family aren’t starving. It’s only three hundred years of Kinnaird history after all.’ He turned to me and gave me a sad smile. ‘Anyway, I’d better be going. Marcella’s offered me a lift to the airport. Now, the most important thing of all is that you promise me you’ll take some rest when you get to Atlantis. I’ll be giving your ma instructions for your care.’
‘I promise, Charlie, and please don’t worry about me. You’ve got enough on your plate.’
‘I will worry, Tiggy, but whatever happens, I hope you’ll be back up to Kinnaird soon, even if it’s to say goodbye.’
I watched him stand up and felt tears pricking my eyes at his words. ‘I will.’
‘I’m really sorry about last night too. Not my usual style. In fact, I haven’t kissed a woman other than my wife in the past seventeen years. It was completely inappropriate, and I hope I didn’t offend you, especially after all I said about Zed and his behaviour.’
‘You really didn’t, Charlie,’ I said, horrified he thought that his attentions were unwanted when they so weren’t.
We walked back to the hotel in silence, and he picked up his overnight bag from the terrace.
At that moment Angelina appeared beside us, as if out of nowhere.
‘I came to say goodbye, Mister Charlie. Visit again soon and we will talk some more.’ She reached up to kiss him on both cheeks.
‘I will.’
‘Ay, you should know that she’ – Angelina pointed at me – ‘has the answer to your problem. Bye-bye.’
Charlie and I exchanged a puzzled glance as the old woman left the terrace as quickly as she had appeared.
‘Right. Well then, keep in touch and let me know how you’re feeling, won’t you?’
‘I will,’ I said, as Marcella joined us.
‘Ready for the ride of your life, Charlie?’ Marcella chuckled.
‘I absolutely can’t wait,’ Charlie said, rolling his eyes at me, as he followed her. ‘Bye, Tiggy.’
When they’d left, I poured myself a glass of water and drank thirstily, thinking that perhaps it was no surprise Ulrika was insecure about her husband. It was obvious he had a magnetism that women responded to. Yet he seemed largely unaware of it.
‘And perhaps that’s part of his charm,’ I muttered as I left the hotel to walk down the road and see how the new mother and baby were getting on.
I found Ally sitting in a chair outside Pepe and Angelina’s cave with a sleeping Bear in her arms. There were faint shadows beneath her eyes, doubtless from the demands of her first night of feeds, but they were sparkling with happiness and contentment.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Tired, but other than that, absolut
ely wonderful!’
‘You look wonderful, Ally, I’m so happy for you. By the way, I called Thom and he’s busy organising consulate appointments as we speak.’
‘Sounds like my brother,’ she said with a grin.
‘I doubt he’ll make it to Sacromonte today. Would you like me to stay another night, in case he doesn’t arrive until tomorrow?’
‘No, I’m honestly fine, Tiggy. I’ve got other people here to look after me, don’t forget. You go to Atlantis and let Ma fuss over you for a while. Speaking of Ma, did you manage to call her too?’
‘Yes, and she was thrilled to hear the news, as you can imagine. She sent her fondest love.’
‘Well, tell her I’ll bring Bear to see her at Atlantis soon.’
‘I will. Now, I think I’d better go and wake up Pepe.’
‘You do that. I was about to take a rest anyway, while this little one’s sleeping.’
‘I’ll see you later to say goodbye, darling Ally.’
I went up to the hotel and knocked on Pepe’s door.
‘What time is it?’ Pepe muttered grumpily as he opened it, obviously having just woken up. But as he saw my face, he simply took me into his arms. ‘Okay, querida, I must go down and prepare breakfast for Angelina, and you and I need some food too . . .’
After Pepe had dressed and we’d walked down to the blue door, he sat me down in the little garden and busied himself in the kitchen. He returned with a tray of warm bread and coffee and Angelina in tow.
‘So, you are going home,’ she said.
I nodded. ‘Yes, in a few hours. But I’ll be back as soon as I’m allowed,’ I responded quickly. ‘I still have so much more to learn from you—’
‘Sí, and we will still be here when you return. Even if Pepe is old and fat . . . I am strong as an ox,’ Angelina winked at me.
‘I want to stay here with you two,’ I said. ‘But Ally and Charlie think it’s best I go back to Geneva . . .’
‘Sometimes you must trust others to know what is best for you. And for them,’ Angelina chuckled. ‘Don’t deny those who love you a chance to care for you. Understand?’
‘Sort of, but I really don’t want to leave.’
‘I know, because this place is in your heart. You are welcome here any time you wish.’
‘Thank you.’ I chewed the delicious bread, and tried my best to savour these parting moments with my newfound family. Gathering my courage, I asked them what I knew we had been putting off during my time here in Granada, simply because the outcome had to be a sad one. ‘Before I go, can you . . . can you please tell me about my mother and father? I have so many questions, and I can’t leave without knowing—’
‘Yes, Erizo, of course we must tell you,’ Angelina said, and then sighed heavily. ‘Not all of it is happy, and perhaps we have been selfish in not telling you before. But Pepe and I do not often like to think of it . . .’
Pepe took her hand in his, and we all sat together quietly for a few moments. Then Pepe seemed to rouse himself, and raised his brown eyes to meet mine.
‘So, I will begin, because I was there. It was 1944, and as the world was still destroying itself in a war, Lucía was in South America at the height of her career . . .’
Lucía
Mendoza, Argentina
September 1944
Flamenco dress with train (bata de cola)
A dancing dress with a long and voluminous skirt requiring great skill to manoeuvre.
29
Meñique went out onto the terrace, squinting in the bright September sunshine. He leant against the balustrade, looking out over the vineyards that scattered the valley below and, beyond that, the snow-capped peaks of the Andes mountains. Never in his life had he breathed air as pure as this, and even at such a high altitude, the sun warmed his skin pleasantly. He loved it here.
He was ashamed to admit that Lucía’s recent misfortune had proved a godsend for him: after years of relentless touring through South America, the cuadro had been performing in a packed theatre in Buenos Aires when, during a particularly ferocious farruca, Lucía had stamped the stage so hard, her foot had splintered the boards.
Her ankle had been badly sprained, and the doctor warned her there would be no more dancing for good if she didn’t give it time to mend. So Lucía had at last been forced to give in and take a break. The rest of the cuadro had disbanded for the season, travelling to their own performances across Argentina and Chile.
It was the first time in all his years with Lucía that Meñique had had her all to himself, and it had been bliss. Perhaps it was the strong painkillers she was taking, or simply the unbelievable stress she placed on her body catching up with her, but Lucía had been as calm as he’d ever known her. If they could stay like this forever, Meñique knew he would marry her tomorrow.
‘Telegram, señor.’
Renata, the maid, came out onto the terrace to hand it to him.
‘Gracias.’
He saw it was addressed to Lucía, who was dozing on her sun lounger. He opened it, simply because she would hand it to him to read anyway.
It was in English, and Meñique sat down at the table and began to decipher it.
ALL TERMS ACCEPTED STOP PASSAGE BOOKED FROM BA TO NY 11 SEPT STOP LOOK FORWARD TO GREETING YOU ALL HERE STOP SOL
‘¡Mierda!’ Meñique swore, his heart pulsing with anger. Standing up, he marched over to Lucía.
‘You have a telegram,’ he said loudly, watching her jump awake. He threw it towards her and it fluttered to the tiled terrace in the warm breeze.
‘I do?’ Lucía sat up and reached down for it. Seeing it was in English, she offered it back to him but he refused. ‘What does it say?’
‘I think you know very well, Lucía.’
‘Oh.’ She glanced back down at the telegram, searching for a word she could recognise. ‘Sol.’
‘Yes, Sol. Sol Hurok. Apparently you are going to New York.’
‘No, we are going to New York. As if I would leave you behind! You would be proud of me – I negotiated very well.’
Meñique took time to breathe deeply.
‘Did you ever think it might be a good idea to tell me what you were planning?’
‘Not until he had accepted my terms. Each time he asked me before, he snubbed you and the cuadro and only wanted me. So’ – Lucía reached her arms up to him with a big smile – ‘now I can tell you.’
Given the fact that Lucía could not read what the telegram said, Meñique surmised that the ‘terms’ had been ‘accepted’ during a couple of late-night telephone calls when Lucía had thought he was asleep.
Meñique sank slowly onto a chair; after his earlier sense of peace now despairing, for so many reasons that it would take him time to compute them all.
‘Aren’t you happy, Meñique?’ she asked him. ‘This has been my dream.’ Lucía stood up, now a bundle of nervous energy and excitement. Her little feet started tapping on the terrace. ‘Can you imagine? Finally, it is North America! South America is ours, but now we must rob La Argentinita of the true prize!’
‘So, this is all about her, is it?’ Meñique said, avoiding her gaze.
‘It’s about nothing and nobody. It’s about a new place to show my dancing to the payos. And New York payos are the richest in the world.’ Lucía walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. ‘Does this not excite you?’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Señor Hurok said he may be able to hire Carnegie Hall! Can you imagine that? A handful of Spanish gitanos taking the stage of the world’s greatest concert hall!’
‘I like it here in Mendoza, Lucía. I’d be happy to stay in South America for the rest of my life.’
‘But we have seen everything there is to see here, done everything there is to do!’ Lucía released him and paced along the wide terrace filled with burgeoning pots of dramatic red blooms, mirroring the colour of the scarf around Lucía’s neck. ‘We have been to Uruguay, Brazil, Chile, Colombia’ – she counted the countries off on
her fingers – ‘then Ecuador, Venezuela, Mexico, Cuba, Peru—’
‘Next time, Lucía, when you make a plan that includes me, I’d ask you to have the decency to tell me.’
‘But I was keeping it as a special surprise! I thought you would be as happy as I!’ Lucía looked so forlorn that Meñique’s anger abated somewhat. She had obviously genuinely thought he would be pleased.
‘I have loved being here with you and I just –’ he shook his head – ‘wonder whether we will ever come to rest anywhere. And have a life together.’
‘Maybe we will not rest, but we do have a life, and it’s exciting, and I will be earning fourteen thousand dollars a week!’
‘We do not need more money, Lucía, we have enough already.’
‘Nothing is ever enough. We are gitanos. Life is a constant search, we can never stay still, you know that.’ Lucía surveyed him. ‘Maybe you are getting old.’
‘Maybe I am just tired of travelling constantly. Maybe I want a home. With you, Lucía . . . And one day, children.’
‘We can have all that, but first, let’s complete our adventure and go to New York.’ Lucía walked towards him then sank to her knees, grabbing his hands. ‘I beg you. I must have America. Do not deny me this.’
‘Pequeña . . .’ Meñique took another deep breath. ‘Have I ever denied you anything?’
*
This time, as they set sail for New York, calm seas meant there was no sickness amongst the company, which had grown to sixteen strong during their six years in South America. Lucía had automatically been offered the best suite on the ship and other passengers on board bowed to her or raised their hands in recognition every time she deigned to appear on deck.
‘How are you feeling?’ María caught Meñique as he leant over the railing, wrapped in a thick coat and a scarf, generously loaned to him by a fellow passenger who had seen him shivering up on deck in the autumnal breeze.
‘Sad that we are leaving South America behind us. The warmth, the colour . . .’
‘Yes. I understand. I feel it too. But what can we do?’
‘Nothing, María.’ Meñique reached out and put an arm around her shoulder. Over the years, the two of them had become close, taking comfort and strength from each other when either José or Lucía became difficult.
The Moon Sister Page 44