Like One of the Family

by Nesta Tuomey

  Claire smiled reluctant assent.

  ‘Comprendo. So what is to be done?’ Alejandro sighed and turned to his companion. ‘Should we ask Señora Carmencita to make the formal introductions? He glanced back at Claire with an understanding smile. ‘Would that meet your requirements?’ Claire found her objections melting under his charm. Perhaps she was being silly.

  ‘Of course it would,’ Sheena said, impatient of such scruples. ‘Don’t pay any attention to Claire. She worries about nothing.’

  Still Alejandro hesitated, his eyebrows quirked.

  Claire smiled and nodded.

  ‘Estupendo,’ Alejandro said in relief and leaned towards the rag doll. To the amusement of the little girls he began, ‘Señora Carmencita I would consider it a great honour if you would introduce me to your charming friends.’

  Sheena grinned and mimicked through the doll’s head-dress. ‘I would be delighted, Señor,’ pointing first at the little girls and then herself, and pronouncing their names.

  ‘And now,’ Alejandro’s companion drawled, ‘Won’t you introduce me?’

  Alejandro laughed and clapped his shoulder. ‘Miguel Delgado is a very good friend of mine,’ he told them. ‘I am most happy to present him to you.’

  ‘Señoritas.’ Miguel bowed, and resumed his lazy watch on the girls again.

  Alejandro ordered wine and said, ‘Tonight we will go to La Hacienda, the best in town. But first we will take you to a friend of ours who owns a bar with the most delicious gambas.’

  There was a relaxed feeling between them now although Claire was still not at ease with Miguel. He seemed to her coarse and full of suppressed energy, or violence. Maybe it was only in her imagination, but she felt distinctly uncomfortable in his company. Before long she stood up and said they must go. Sheena was reluctant to say goodbye and there were many farewells before she could drag herself away.

  Between the attention of two good-looking young men and the wine Sheena was on a high as they walked back to the apartment, brimming with plans and ideas for further meetings with the two Spaniards.

  ‘Let’s see how tonight goes first,’ Claire suggested cautiously. She was more concerned with leaving Ruthie and Adela.

  ‘Are we right to go?’ she wondered.

  ‘Oh, they’ll be all right with Teresa,’ Sheena said carelessly. ‘Anyway we won’t be late. Alex says the show only lasts an hour.’

  Claire allowed herself to be persuaded. So often lately hers seemed to be the only dissenting voice. She was tired being the conscience for everyone.

  At the appointed hour the Spaniards were waiting for the girls in the courtyard and they walked to the bar where the gambas were every bit as good as Alejandro had promised. Miguel had been replaced by a young man called Luis, and no explanations were offered. Claire suspected that Sheena was disappointed but she was just as glad herself.

  At La Hacienda they were shown to a table and ice-cold glasses of Coke, laced with white rum, were placed before them. Claire drank slowly but Sheena, like everything else she did in life, tackled hers vigorously, airily opining that Cuba Libres were not a whole lot different from Coke. Except for the kick, Claire thought.

  Talking was difficult with all the tempestuous dancing going on so close at hand.. In time another round of drinks was brought, and then another. Alejandro seemed to be very wealthy, paying for everything.

  When the flamenco finished the Spaniards invited the girls on to the dance floor. The song that was playing ‘You’ll Never Stop Me Loving You’ had been popular the previous summer when Terry and Claire danced together. She felt such a wave of longing that she tightened her grip on Luis’s narrow shoulder and he glanced down at her in surprise. After a moment he thrust himself hard against her and Claire felt so moved by desire and all the rum she had drunk that she almost turned faint. She had not thought that she would ever feel sexual awareness again, nor had she wanted to.

  When they arrived back at the apartment she said goodnight at once and ran up to join Ruthie and Adela. She found the little girls sitting with Teresa stretched out on the couch, who raised a red suffering face as Claire came in the door.

  ‘Poor Teresa isn’t well,’ Ruthie said, jumping up at once and running over to her. ‘Her head is aching and she says she feels dizzy.’

  ‘I’m afraid I overdid it,’ Teresa admitted. ‘Too much blooming sun. I should have known better, lying on that balcony for hours.

  ‘Poor Teresa,’ Claire commiserated with her and went to get her a cup of tea and two paracetemol. By the time Sheena had said at last to Alejandro and come dashing up the stairs, it was clear to Claire unless by some miracle Teresa recovered from her sunburn before morning she would never be well enough to accompany them to Fernando’s house next day.

  Fernando sat behind the wheel of the Mercedes looking cool and relaxed as he drove the short distance into Nerja to pick up the girls. He wore light, stone-coloured linen slacks and a short-sleeved shirt with a button down collar and a bronze silk tie. His arms were dark from the sun and contrasted strongly against the soft pearl. He went the length of the street and turned into the parking lot before Las Cicadas. He had told Claire to expect him at three o’clock and it was now ten minutes before the hour.

  It was deeply satisfying to Fernando’s punctilious soul that he was early despite the many preparations needed to ensure that everything was in order for this afternoon’s tea-party.

  His first priority had been to ensure that Elena should take her afternoon nap undisturbed in the cathedral-like quiet of her bedroom, so that she would be rested and at her best for the visit. Leaving Christina to wake her mistress at the appointed time, Fernando had gone downstairs and supervised the laying out of the china and silverware bearing the Gonzalez crest, nodding his approval of the trays of sweet confectionery that Pilar had been preparing all morning and taking it upon himself to check that the limonada, as fresh and fruitily delicious as only Pilar knew how to make it, was keeping cool in big earthenware jugs on the marble shelves of the larder. All that remained was to shower and change into casual clothing, before driving into the town.

  As Fernando parked the Mercedes he glanced in the mirror, his attention caught by the sight of his younger brother jauntily crossing the concrete forecourt. He stared in surprise, for he had believed Alejandro to be far away in his military barracks in Cadiz.

  ‘Hola! Alex!’ Fernando called through the window and his brother checked and looked behind him.

  ‘Fernan. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I might ask you the same question,’ Fernando said with a smile, noting that Alejandro was out of uniform and carried no kit. ‘When did you arrive?’

  ‘Not long ago.’ His brother’s reciprocal smile was wide but his gaze was almost furtive, Fernando thought, frowning at the vagueness of his reply.

  ‘Does Father know you are here?’

  Alejandro shrugged. ‘There wasn’t time to tell him. I got the chance of a lift home and felt like coming.’

  ‘So we’ll see you later?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It all depends...’

  ‘I thought you said you felt like coming home.’

  ‘Yes I did... but you know how it is, Fernan,’ Alejandro smiled disarmingly. ‘Naturally I want to see my mother, but I am meeting friends and may decide after all to stay with them rather than inconvenience anyone at home. Anyway it is merely a flying visit... there may not even be time to go home.’

  Fernando regarded his younger brother gravely.

  ‘Are you in trouble, Alex?’

  ‘Of course not! What a suspicious mind you have. It’s just that if I go home it will only upset mother. You know how fussed she gets. She’ll want me beside her every minute and when I go she’ll miss me like the devil so perhaps...’

  Alejandro looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Very well.’ Fernando took pity on him. ’I will say nothing but only for her sake. She will be even more upset if she thinks you are here and she doesn’
t see you.’

  Alejandro looked relieved. ‘Thanks, Fernan. I’ll be home for a week in September and then I will be a model son, I promise.’

  Fernando suddenly recalled his purpose in visiting Las Cicadas and clapped his brother absently on the back. Alejandro was a selfish little beggar, he thought, but there was no real harm in him. He got along better with him than he did with Federico, who took himself far too seriously for his taste.

  ‘Make sure you do!’ With a last rejoinder Fernando turned away and ran lightly up the steps to Claire’s apartment. He forgot all about his brother the moment she opened the door.

  Señora Gonzalez, sitting on the patio, shaded from the sun by a huge parasol, stretched out her hand in welcome. She greeted each girl in turn in a low, sweetly accented voice and expressed polite regret that their chaperone had not been well enough to accompany them.

  ‘I was sorry to hear she is suffering from sunburn,’ Elena said. ‘It is so easy to underestimate the strength of the sun. I hope she will soon be recovered.’ Then turning to Fernando, she said, ‘Fernan, my dear, pour drinks for the girls. They must be thirsty.’

  ‘Certainly, Mother,’ Fernando replied, as he bent to kiss her, ‘but not until I have rung for your iced tea. I notice you have not had it yet.’

  As Fernando made himself useful, pouring glasses of chilled limonada and cheerfully handing them about, Claire took hers and went to sit near Elena. She was drawn to the frail figure and observing Fernando’s tender care for his mother, was struck by the deep affection between them.

  Sheena, glass in hand, wandered off across the smooth lawn to admire the flowerbeds massed with salvias, carnations and begonias. In one place they had been planted out in a striking arrangement to represent the Spanish flag. Fernando walked beside her, content to leave Claire with his mother.

  ‘Gosh!’ Sheena said in awe. ‘I bet that took someone hours of back-breaking toil.’

  ‘A fair amount,’ Fernando agreed, amused. It had taken their two full-time gardeners, along with some outside help, ten hours to produce the effect.

  ‘This place is enormous,’ Sheena said admiringly. ‘Just how big is it?’

  ‘About four acres.’ Fernando smiled .

  ‘Wow!’ Sheena was suitably impressed.

  Fernando looked back and saw that Claire was holding a book and leaning close to his mother’s chair. Elena was a great reader. He knew Claire was taking an Arts degree at college, which increased his interest in her. He was full of admiration for learning and, in addition to his architectural degree, would liked to have taken a degree in languages. He hoped some day to put this right. As it was, he was fairly fluent in German and French. He looked around at the sound of excited laughter and saw Ruthie and Adela frisking with his black Labrador.

  ‘What a friendly, beautiful dog,’ Ruthie gasped. ‘She licked my face.’

  Fernando laughed. ‘Stella is very fond of chocolate,’ he told her, eyeing the marks about the little girl’s mouth.

  Sheena shoved a tissue at her sister and said disgustedly: ‘Wipe your face, silly,’

  ‘I much prefer Stella,’ Ruthie said, thrusting her face close to the dog’s muzzle and Stella obligingly used her tongue again to great effect.

  ‘Honestly, Ruthie,’ Sheena scolded. ‘You can’t be taken anywhere. What would Mummy say if she were here.’

  ‘Mummy would approve,’ Ruthie said serenely. ‘She’s always telling us to use natural rather than artificial resources.’

  ‘Isn’t she incorrigible,’ she appealed to Fernando with such affectionate pride that he grinned back at her, liking her a little more than he had formerly.

  Claire was oblivious of them all as she chatted to Elena. She discovered that Elena was almost as great an admirer of Charlotte Bronte’s novels as she was herself.

  ‘I cannot decide which I like better,’ Claire confessed after some thought. ‘Jane Eyre or Villette?

  Elena smiled. ‘I have no hesitation in deciding upon Villette,’ she said. ‘I think if you have ever had to leave home and live for a time in another country you would share a fellow feeling with poor Lucy Snowe.’

  Claire considered this. At present she was away from home but she supposed that she wasn’t really qualified to judge since she wasn’t entirely amongst strangers. Oddly, she felt more at home here in Spain than she had anywhere else in her life, and had done so from her first day on Spanish soil.

  ‘Have you had such an experience, Señora?’ she asked shyly, wondering if she should be so personal.

  Elena nodded and sighed. ‘When I was eighteen I lived one whole year in England. Ah, but how I missed Spain. Alas, I did not have the consolation of Doctor John or Monsieur Paul Emanuel to alleviate my loneliness.’ She laughed gently to show she was not serious. ‘But, of course, I cannot complain having by that time already found my novio.’

  Claire remembered Fernando’s father, a big untidy man with bushy eyebrows and curly black hair.

  ‘Sadly these days I do not read as much as I would like,’ Elena was saying. ‘I get tired easily and find it difficult to support a book for long.’

  Claire had noticed how twisted the woman’s hands were and how restricted her movements. She had an idea, but hesitated to express it for fear of seeming presumptuous. But when Elena leaned back, looking ill and exhausted from all the effort of talking, Claire offered to come to the house and read to her.

  ‘Any time you want me,’ Claire said earnestly, her own eyes meeting Elena’s with such a look of concern that the older woman was startled.

  ‘I would like that very much,’ Elena said slowly, and was surprised to find it was true. There was something about the girl’s look that went straight to her heart. From the first moment Elena had felt an immediate rapport with her and now, watching her son’s eyes fixed ardently upon the young Irish girl as he strolled across the grass to join them, she perceived with a slight sense of shock that his interest in Claire was more like that of a lover than the family friend he claimed to be.

  TWELVE

  Claire went to Elena’s house and read to her as she had promised. In the beginning she was careful to keep the sessions short, fearful of tiring the sick woman, but she soon found that Elena could be relied upon to say when she had had enough.

  Fernando insisted on driving Claire, although she had assured him she was quite happy to walk. Once there, he would escort her to where his mother sat and ring for limonada and iced tea. Sometimes he lingered in the room while Claire was reading, sitting so quietly that she forgot all about him until Elena addressed him. Claire had not thought it possible to be so unselfconscious in his presence.

  Each afternoon Claire closed the book with the greatest of reluctance and went to replace it on the shelf. At the end of the first week when she held out her hand in farewell Elena clasped it and said in heartfelt accents,

  ‘Muchas gracias, mi querida. I look forward more than I can say to your next visit.’

  As though, Claire thought, she had never read Villette herself and couldn’t wait to find out what happened. When she said as much Elena smiled and nodded, ‘Yes, Claire... because you are making it come alive for me. In truth, I feel as though I am hearing it all for the very first time.’

  Claire had experienced this herself when reading a favourite book again after a long time, seeing nuances she had missed and gaining new insights into the workings of the characters.

  The following day she was ready again for Fernando when he called. Ruthie and Teresa were planning to walk to the hotel and take a swim in the pool with Adela. Once she knew that the little girl would be looked after for a few hours Claire found herself eagerly anticipating her visit to Fernando’s house. Influenced by Elena’s keen analysis of the vagaries of Lucy Snowe’s mind, Claire was coming to a new appreciation of Villette and no longer had any doubts as to which of the Bronte masterpieces she liked best.

  And so the afternoons repeated themselves, and it was turning out to be one of the mos
t enjoyable periods of Claire’s life. She felt as if she had always been making this daily trip to this Spanish house. She was reminded too of how she had felt years before when she had happily read her favourite childhood stories to Ruthie. In time she was moved to share this memory with Elena.

  ‘Ah yes, but now, querida, I am the fortunate one,’ Elena said. ‘Your coming here puts an entirely different complexion on my day and gives me so much joy.’ There was a flush on her normally pale cheeks and she was more animated than Claire had ever seen her. ‘Where before there was so little now there is so much,’ Elena told her with tremulous sincerity. ‘Truly my cup is overflowing.’

  Claire’s own eyes misted with tears. She felt both moved and embarrassed. ‘It means a lot to me too,’ she said gruffly. And felt it was a gross understatement. One afternoon, as Claire sat opposite Elena in the shaded room and removed the bookmark from the spot she had left off reading the previous day, Elena said gently. ‘Would you mind if we talked for a bit?’

  ‘Of course not. I’d love to,’ Claire readily agreed.

  ‘Tell me some more about your life in Ireland,’ Elena suggested, relaxing back in her chair. ‘You have a younger brother and are friendly with the doctor’s children, that much I know...’

  Claire gladly chatted away about her friendship with the twins and Ruthie, stressing how good Jane had always been to her, including her year after year in their holiday plans and treating her like one of the family.

  `’She is kind the doctor, and clearly you are very fond of her.’

  Claire nodded and went on to talk of Sheena and Terry. She did not know it but whenever she mentioned Terry’s name her expression was full of yearning. Elena watched her quietly.

  ‘And the children’s father?’ she asked. ‘He died some time ago, I believe.’

  ‘Yes.’ Claire dropped her eyes.

  ‘I can see you are very fond of them all,’ Elena smiled. ‘But I think you have an especially soft spot for your friend’s twin brother.’