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Like One of the Family

Page 22

by Nesta Tuomey


  ‘Let’s go then,’ she said, almost gaily.

  ‘Excuse me while I get my car key.’ He disappeared into the other room. Jane could hear him talking to someone, another man by the sound of it, through the half-open door.

  ‘Mummy, are we buying an apartment?’ Ruthie was almost bursting with excitement.

  ‘Shush! Not a word.’ Playfully, Jane stopped her mouth. ‘Our secret. Okay?’ Over the masking hand, Ruthie’s eyes were enormous.

  Fernando came out and beckoned them to follow him outside to where a white Seat was parked at the kerbside. He assisted Ruthie into the back, then politely motioned for Jane to get in. Very courteous and gallant! Jane smiled to herself as she tucked her skirt about her. Everything but click his heels! Within seconds they were pulling out into the traffic.

  Fernando brought them on a quick tour of the show apartment and then retired to the courtyard to allow them time to view on their own. Jane wandered back through the tastefully furnished rooms and out on to the tiny flower-bedecked balcony. The pungent smell of geranium filled her nostrils and below, in the distance, the waves endlessly tumbled and broke on pale sand.

  ‘Mummy, it’s so beautiful,’ Ruthie came to stand beside her, and together they absorbed the scene.

  A tiny tortoiseshell kitten clambered over the apartment wall and toppled into a flower pot, where it clung mewing pitifully. With a little cry, Ruthie extricated it from the tangle of leaves and cuddled it to her chest.

  ‘You little dote,’ she breathed, and looked up at her mother with shining eyes, ‘Oh Mummy, this makes it just about perfect.’

  In that moment Jane made up her mind.

  Jane was by no means rich, but Eddie had left her comfortably off. In addition to his pension, there was her salary from the clinic and her own thriving medical practice. She owned her house and had the money she had got from the sale of the holiday cottage, as well as a few other sound investments her husband had made in the years before he died. She had never been extravagant herself. Her biggest expenditure was on her home and her children’s education. If she wanted to buy an apartment now in Spain there was nothing standing in her way.

  She glanced down at Ruthie’s entranced face. ‘You really like it?’ she softly enquired.

  ‘Oh Mummy!’ Ruthie sighed, her eyes like twin stars.

  ‘Come on then,’ Jane said, feeling suddenly as hopeful and excited as a young girl. With a last fond pat, Ruthie returned the kitten over the wall and followed her mother out of the apartment. They pulled the door after them and ran breathlessly down the stone steps leading to the courtyard.

  The Spaniard turned to look at them as hand-in-hand they came hurrying towards him, their faces radiant.

  ‘You like it,’ he stated, his naturally grave countenance suddenly swept by a smile.

  Jane nodded happily. ‘Very much. Can we go back to your office? I think we can do business.’

  ‘Very good, Señora.’ Fernando moved with alacrity to open the car door.

  ‘Mummy,’ Ruthie whispered, tugging urgently at Jane’s arm.

  Jane looked down at her. ‘What is it, Ruthie?’

  ‘Claire and Sheena,’ Ruthie prompted. ‘They’ll think we’ve been kidnapped.’

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Jane was horrified. She realised that she hadn’t given them a thought in the past hour. Whatever would they be thinking! She bundled Ruthie ahead of her into the car.

  ‘My girls,’ she explained to Fernando’s mystified face, ‘I’d forgotten all about them. Perhaps we can telephone the hotel when we get to your office.’

  ‘But of course.’ He turned his eyes back to the road and rapidly weaved his way through the traffic.

  By five o’clock that afternoon Jane had signed the conveyancing document on the Spanish apartment. The one she had picked was on the same side of the building as the show apartment, and had a prime view of the beach.

  Earlier, she and Fernando had gone to a solicitor together and arranged the financial details. Jane had already telephoned her own bank in Dublin and asked the manager to send the solicitor her deposit of one million pesetas - the balance would be paid on completion of the apartment, in approximately three months’ time - and all that remained was to sign the escritura which was sent off at once to the Registro de Propriedad.

  Now they stood outside the property developer’s office and shook hands.

  ‘May I drive you to your hotel?’ Fernando enquired. ‘It would give me much pleasure to do so.’

  Jane shook her head. ‘Thank you but I think a walk is what I need.’ She gave him a tired smile. Her head was aching from the events of the past few hours and she wanted time to be alone and think over what she had done. She had telephoned the hotel and asked the girls to come and collect Ruthie. They had arrived, agog with curiosity, but she had despatched them with a promise to fill them in later on. Doubtless by now Ruthie would have told them. Just now she badly needed a stroll in the air.

  ‘Sí. Comprendo, Dr McArdle.’ Fernando gave her professional title with quiet courtesy. ‘I look forward to our meeting tomorrow.’

  ‘Hasta luego.’ Jane smiled and turned away. There were one or two alterations she would like carried out in the kitchen and main bedroom, which Fernando assured her could easily be done. Now was the time to do it before the apartment was completed. Second thoughts were always the most expensive, Jane knew. She sighed, feeling as if she had run a marathon, and set out wearily for the hotel.

  Fernando watched Jane walk away, a smile in his dark eyes. He had been infected by her excitement and got almost as much fun out of her buying the apartment that afternoon, as she had herself. He had been greatly struck by the Irish woman. Una mujer hermosa, he thought approvingly, as she vanished around the corner. Alhough, perhaps, on reflection, he mused, not in the strictly physical sense. It was her mind and spirit that was truly beautiful, like that of his own mother. Interestingly enough, Fernando further mused, the doctor’s hair was very similar in colouring to what his mother’s rich auburn hair had once been, though sadly now streaked with grey. He smiled again and went on into the building.

  There was no one in the outer office. He went straight through to the inside room.

  ‘Congratulations, Father,’ he told the man seated behind the desk. ‘You were not here when I returned earlier, but I am happy to tell you we have sold yet another of our apartments.’

  Antonio Gonzalez looked at his son affectionately. ‘So Consuelo told me. But you are the one to be congratulated.’

  Fernando shrugged and laughed. ‘Perhaps,’ he conceded. ‘However, I think the lady herself deserves much of the credit. She came to us knowing exactly what she wanted and by good fortune we were able to supply it.’ He shook his head and whistled softly between his teeth. ‘Ayee, she took one look and decided it was for her. Olé.

  ‘If all our customers knew their minds so well we would not be able to build apartments fast enough,’ Antonio said wryly. ‘Still, we are not doing so badly. We shall soon have more than half of Las Cicadas accounted for.’ He swept some papers into a drawer and locked it. ‘You know,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘It might be worthwhile keeping that advertisement in the newspapers until the end of the tourist season.’

  Fernando frowned. ‘That is a good idea,’ he agreed politely. ‘But I must point out, Father, that it was not our advertisement in the newspapers, but in our front window, that drew Dr McArdle’s attention.’

  Antonio pondered this a moment. ‘All the same,’ he decided, ‘keep the other advertisement running another few weeks.’

  ‘Very well.’ Fernando took a silver pen from his pocket and made a memo. ‘By the way,’ he went on more enthusiastically, ‘the lady is coming again tomorrow to discuss the interior of her apartment. There are one or two small changes she wishes us to make. I thought we might throw in a few of the additional features as a mark of goodwill.’ He looked questioningly at his father. ‘Such as the vanity unit in the main bedroom and perhaps the gla
ss shower door in the bathroom.’

  His father looked surprised. ‘If you think so, Fernan. I leave it entirely to your judgement.’

  Fernando smiled. ‘You are thinking that the lady in question is young and beautiful and that I’m hoping to impress her with my generosity?’

  Antonio laughed. He came around the desk and clapped his son on the shoulder. ‘Why not? You are young and have been enamoured before.’

  ‘Undeniably. But Dr Jane McArdle is not a young irlandesa guapa, Father,’ Fernando said reprovingly. ‘She is a medical doctor and almost of an age to be my mother.’

  Antonio said nothing.

  ‘She is not young and beautiful,’ Fernando went on, ‘But - qué alma! Qué espíritu! I feel sure when you meet her you’ll agree.’

  Antonio had gone to the window and was looking out on the small patio at the rear of the building, seemingly entranced by a lizard darting in and out of the flowerbeds. If it wasn’t for the pulse throbbing in his forehead - always a sure sign that he was agitated - Fernando might have thought he had not heard. What his father might be upset about he could not for the life of him understand.

  Sheena went into raptures when she heard her mother had bought an apartment in Spain.

  ‘But you never let on,’ she kept saying. ‘How ever did you keep it so quiet?’

  ‘It all happened rather suddenly,’ Jane admitted. ‘I still can’t get over it myself.’

  ‘Our own apartment in Spain,’ Sheena gloated. ‘Doesn’t it sound grand, Claire?’

  Claire nodded, feeling a little left out of it. A little inner voice kept reminding her that it was nothing at all to do with her. It was wonderful, yes, but only for the McArdles.

  Jane laughed. ‘Sounds classier than a cottage in County Waterford,’ she agreed, catching Claire’s eye and smiling at her. ‘What do you think, Claire?’

  ‘I think it’s great,’ Claire said, her mouth wobbling.

  Jane felt stricken by their insensitivity. The poor child, she thought contritely, having to listen to the lot of them rhapsodising about the wonderful time they were going to have and never a mention of herself.

  ‘Of course you’ll be coming to Spain with us often,’ Jane hastened to reassure Claire and was touched to see the girl flush with pleasure. ‘Our holidays wouldn’t be the same without you, my dear,’ she added quietly. ‘You must know that!’

  Claire cast her a grateful look. ‘You’ve been so good bringing me away. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.’ She was on the verge of tears. ‘I’ll never forget it.’

  ‘Well, it has given us a lot of pleasure too, don’t forget,’ Jane said kindly. ‘Now let’s all go downstairs or Ignacio will believe we’ve deserted him and gone elsewhere for our dinner.’

  Jane reread her copy of the purchase agreement and pondered on how quickly she had made up her mind to buy the apartment. Well, she couldn’t rescind the agreement now without considerable financial loss, so she hoped she would never regret her decision. Somehow Jane didn’t think she would.

  Fernando was in the outer office next morning. When they all trooped in the door. he advanced with a smile and outstretched hand. ‘Buenos días, Señora... Señoritas.’

  Jane smilingly indicated the girls. ‘Ruthie you’ve met and this is my daughter, Sheena, and this,’ she continued warmly, putting an arm about her, ‘is Claire, who is like another daughter to me.’

  Claire blushed rosily at the compliment and Fernando looked at her with interest. He was his usual urbane self and, starting with Jane, gallantly shook hands with each of them. Sheena couldn’t take her eyes off him,, Jane noticed, with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

  ‘If you will come into the other office I will show you the plans,’ Fernando said, leading the way.

  When they were grouped about him he discussed the changes Jane wished to make and suggested a few improvisations which would enhance the property. He really knew his stuff, Jane thought, unsurprised to learn he had a degree in architecture from Barcelona University. A very impressive young man, she thought, not for the first time.

  The outer door opened and Antonio Gonzalez entered. At once Fernando jumped to his feet and extended his hand towards Jane saying, ‘Father, I would like you to meet Dr McArdle, who has just purchased one of our apartments.’

  Jane turned with a polite smile, which quivered and faded as she saw who it was. A lot older, his black hair streaked with grey, but unmistakably her Antonio Gonzalez. Her chest felt as though it had been struck by a bullet.

  ‘Señora,’ Antonio murmured, his dark expressive eyes, so like his son’s, meeting as he bent over her hand

  ‘We are just about to pay a visit to the show apartment,’ Fernando was saying. ‘Dr McArdle wishes her family to see it before returning to Ireland.’

  Antonio’s eyes strayed from Jane to the girls and back again. ‘When do you leave, Señora,’ he politely enquired.

  ‘We fly home tomorrow,’ Jane said, feeling as if she were in a dream. She automatically answered the other questions he put to her. When did she intend returning to Spain? And would she consider coming back in the spring for a short visit when the apartment was completed? He waited for her reply, his head on one side, eyes half-closed, regarding her inscrutably.

  As she spoke Jane was struggling to cope with the shock of seeing Antonio after all these years. Then, to her relief, they were all standing up and chorusing their goodbyes as Fernando cheerfully led the way to the outer office, clearly pleased she had met his father and happy at the prospect of showing off the apartment to the girls. She heard him answer something Consuelo said and then he ushered them on to the street to where his little car was parked. Jane was acutely aware of Antonio standing in the doorway gazing after them as they drove away.

  While Fernando was showing the girls over the apartment Jane stood on the balcony, thinking how much Antonio’s appearance had changed over the years and his voice not at all. She found herself remembering little mannerisms, like his way of pinching his forehead when puzzled and his sleepy, heavy-lidded way of listening. She had not thought of these things in years. Other memories came to her. She seemed to hear his murmuring voice in her ear, uttering little Spanish love words, and her face grew suddenly warm, making her glad she was by herself on the balcony.

  Jane had immersed herself in her work in the years following her husband’s death and had been hardly aware of men or the lack of them. But since meeting Antonio, her libido, inert even prior to Eddie’s passing, had received a reviving jolt. She had never expected to feel this way again and believed herself to be immune.

  She heard the girls trooping in and out of the rooms, questioning Fernando and sounding the praise of everything they saw. She could not hear his replies but every so often there was a merry burst of sound, suggesting that they were highly amusing.

  She took a deep breath and went to join them.

  ‘The young ladies have seen and approved of it all,’ Fernando announced, his dark eyes meeting Jane’s with amusement in their velvet depths.

  So like his father’s. Jane banished the thought and smiled back at him. ‘So what’s your verdict?’ she asked the girls.

  ‘Estupendo,’ came the chorus, followed by a burst of laughter.

  ‘See how quickly they learn.’ Fernando beamed. ‘Before you know it they will be speaking like Spaniards.’

  Jane felt pleased. He was really quite charming, she thought, and just the person to befriend the girls when they returned often to Spain. What a very satisfactory son-in-law he would make. She was appalled at herself.

  Oh God, matchmaking already! thought Jane in horror. She grimaced and vowed never to think this way again. Yet in spite of her good intentions she found herself watching Fernando for signs of preference as he led the girls outside to point out the view.

  By the time they had seen everything and returned to the car Jane had come to the conclusion that while Fernando was extremely courteous to each of the girls and trea
ted them impartially, if his eyes ever rested overlong on one of them it was always upon Claire.

  They were all a little sad as they sat over dinner that evening, their last in Spain for some time. What made it bearable, however, was the thought that this was not really goodbye, for they would be returning often now.

  On the way back to the hotel Sheena had said that she looked forward to bringing her easel with her on their next trip abroad and to capturing the Spanish scene on canvas; Ruthie expressed her intention of inviting Adela very often to play with ‘her’ kitten and Claire spoke lyrically of the view from the balcony and the heady scents perfuming the air. Only Jane had remained silent as she tagged along behind them, her thoughts taken up with the conversation she had had with Fernando.

  ‘My mother has a natural gift with colours,’ he had told her with pride, when she admired the decor of the show apartment. ‘At one time she was a very successful interior designer, but these days her health is not strong and she confines her talents to our apartment blocks.’

  Jane had been startled to hear him mention his mother. Now sitting with the girls she wondered at herself. Why wouldn’t Antonio still be married to her?

  Jane made an effort to put thoughts of Antonio out of her mind but, in spite of herself, he kept creeping back in again. That she still found him extremely attractive was painfully evident, judging by her earlier reaction. She sighed and decided she would have to discipline herself with regard to him. Now that she had bought one of his apartments she could expect to bump into him regularly. She would soon grow accustomed to it.

  Very well, she wouldn’t, but she wasn’t the inexperienced, besotted girl she had once been. She was a grown woman and a widow to boot, and whatever fate decided to throw her way she could confidently handle. She lifted her glass and happily proposed a toast. ‘To many more holidays like this one.’

  The girls solemnly clinked glasses and regarded each other over the rims.

  ‘Next time we’ll visit the caves,’ Jane promised.

  ‘And see a bullfight,’ said Ruthie, still disappointed at missing it.

 

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