“The surgery is closed today,” she said. “Come back tomorrow.”
We backed out of the surgery, apologising profusely.
“Do you know, when she turned round, I thought I recognised her!” I said later. “I think she’s Carmen’s cousin. I know she has a cleaning job at the town hall.”
“Well, why didn’t you say something?”
“I wasn’t sure, and you already had your pants down by then.”
Joe doesn’t blush easily, but I think he did that day.
We returned the next morning and the doctor read the letter my sister had translated. The injection was administered without mishap.
“Well, that’s another thing you can cross off your list,” said Joe. “Mission accomplished.”
“You can scoff at my lists as much as you like.”
Without lists, I am lost. And I was pretty excited about the next big item on my list; the viewing.
“I honestly think we might sell the house today,” I said to Joe again as we waited for the ‘English twosome’ to arrive, “but I almost don’t want it to happen. If I had a fairy godmother, I’d ask her if we could definitely sell it today, and that the buyers wouldn’t want to move in until after the summer.”
“Hardly likely!”
“I know, but I’d so love to have one last summer here in El Hoyo. I want to taste our grapes one last time, and I’d love to see Sofía get married. I just want to hang on to every last moment.”
High on the mountain, we saw Kurt’s car begin to descend the hairpin bends into the valley, closely followed by an unfamiliar car.
“That’s them,” Joe said.
I jumped up to check around the house, probably for the tenth time that day. When the knock came at the door, I counted to five before opening it. I didn’t want them to know I’d been waiting right behind the door.
“Good afternoon,” said Kurt. “Here are Alison and Steve to examine your house.”
I maintain that you can tell a lot from first impressions. Alison was smiling and friendly, and Steve’s handshake was warm. I liked them both on sight. I guessed they were about ten or twelve years younger than us and I recognised the expression on Alison’s face. It was the same enraptured expression that I had worn when we first set foot in El Hoyo so many years before.
“The village is beautiful,” breathed Alison. “Almost magical! All those wildflowers on the slopes, and the ancient mine. I love this place already.”
“She’s the airy-fairy one,” said Steve, laughing, nodding to his wife and pretending to roll his eyes. “She’s an artist, and we’re looking for somewhere quiet to live.”
“Here you vill discover quiet,” said Kurt.
Joe and I nodded.
“Oh gosh, don’t tell me that’s a bread oven over there!” exclaimed Alison. “And look at the thickness of these walls!”
“We’ll let Kurt show you everything,” I said. “Joe and I will be here if you need us. I’ll pour out some lemonade and take it into the garden for you when you’ve finished your tour.”
I’d never offered any of the other viewers refreshments.
“Well,” I hissed at Joe, “what do you think?”
“Nice couple, but way too early to say if they’ll buy it.”
“They will,” I said confidently.
The tour took a long time. While Alison soaked in the views from the roof terrace, and explored every room, Steve fired sensible questions at Kurt. Eventually the party returned and joined us under the vine.
“Oh look! The grapes are already forming!” said Alison looking up in delight. “And we would definitely keep chickens!”
“Well, the coop is all set up and ready to go,” I said, pouring iced lemonade into glasses. “All you need to do is pop in some chickens and you’ll have fresh eggs every day, just like we had.”
Alison leaned forward, and her eyes were shining.
“This is like a dream,” she said. “We definitely want to buy your house.”
Just for a second, everything went quiet.
Then all heads turned to Steve. He was grinning.
“Oh, I’m just here for the ride,” he joked. “If the boss says she wants it, then that’s that. Happy wife, happy life, that’s what I always say.”
Suddenly everybody was talking at once, laughing and shaking hands. It was wonderfully informal, not a bit like any house sale I’d ever made before.
“I just love it!” said Alison, her hands clasped under her chin. “I love everything about it.”
My heart soared knowing that our beloved home would be in good hands, cared for and enjoyed by its new owners just as we’d done in the past.
“Oh, there’s just one thing we haven’t mentioned,” said Steve, looking concerned. “I do hope it’s not going to make a difference.”
Kurt, Joe and I looked at him. Not a fly in the ointment already? We waited.
“The thing is, we haven’t sold our house in England yet. We’ve only just put it on the market and these things take time. It’s a nice house in a nice area, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t sell quickly.”
My mind was racing, trying to absorb this latest information.
Steve must have seen my expression.
“Of course we’ll make an official firm offer for this house tomorrow,” he added quickly, “and we’ll get the Spanish solicitor to draw up everything. And if you accept, we’ll pay the deposit. We definitely want to buy this house. There’s no question of that.”
“Oh yes! We definitely want to live here!” said Alison.
“But I doubt we can actually finalise and move in until early September,” continued Steve. “We’ll need the summer to sort out our affairs.”
My mouth dropped open. This was unbelievable! This was what I had hardly dared to dream. We’d not only sold the house, so that worry was lifted from our shoulders, but we were also being handed one last summer here in El Hoyo!
I couldn’t speak.
Joe and I exchanged glances. I knew he was reading my mind.
Steve and Alison were watching us, and I suddenly realised they were misreading our signals. Both looked extremely worried.
“September would be perfect for us,” I said, smiling, and saw Alison, Steve and Kurt relax. “In fact, it couldn’t be better.”
“We’re going back to England in a couple of days, but I’ll be returning next month to help my sister who is moving into a house in Almería,” said Alison. “Would it be okay if I pop back? I know I’ll have a lot of questions and I’d love to show my sister the house and village.”
“Of course! Make a list of questions and we’ll do our best to answer them.”
“You and your lists,” said Joe, but he was smiling.
We waved our visitors goodbye and watched their cars climb the road out of the valley. It had been an important, life-changing day.
I’ll never forget that evening on the roof terrace. It was a perfect setting, and as the shadows deepened and the sun dipped behind the mountain, we sipped Paco’s homemade wine and breathed in the scented air. Bats flitted around the church tower against an orange, fiery backdrop.
“I still can’t believe it,” I repeated for the millionth time. “A whole summer! Oodles of time to sort out the Australian visa and to pack.”
“Yes,” said Joe.
I knew he was just as delighted as I was, but he is much better at controlling his enthusiasm. Me? I felt my cup was running over, and my head was spinning. And it wasn’t Paco’s wine that was making my head spin, it was joy.
“Plenty of time to go to the enchanted pool as often as we like, and the beach,” I said.
“Yes.”
A thought struck me.
“And we’ll be here in the village for Sofía and Alejandro’s wedding!”
“Well, that’ll be quite an experience.”
I agreed. We sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I was recalling when we first arrived in the village, back in 2004, el
even years ago. We’d met our neighbours, Paco and Carmen, and they’d told us about their children. Their youngest, Little Paco had been nine years old. He was nearly twenty now. And they had despaired of their beautiful daughter, Sofía, ever marrying.
I recalled that day, and the memory was still fresh.
“Pah!” Paco had yelled, thumping his fist on the table as he fumed over his wayward daughter. “She should be married by now! But always there is something wrong with every boy she meets.”
“Claro,” Carmen had nodded sadly, “that’s true.”
“The boy is too thin, or too fat, or wears the wrong clothes… No boy is good enough! Many times she meets a very nice boy, but never does she want him for a husband!”
It took a long time, but ten years later, Sofía had finally found The One. This summer she would marry Alejandro, the local millionaire’s grandson.
And everybody was delighted.
Fruity Ice
Granizado
When the temperatures hit 40 degrees celsius in Spain, this easy granizado recipe makes the heat easier to handle.
Ingredients
5 lemons
2 oranges
500g (18oz) of white sugar
1.5 litres (3 pints) of water
Method
Grate the peel from the oranges and lemons, avoiding the bitter pith.
Put the peel in a saucepan.
Get as much juice as you can from the fruit and add to the pan.
Add the sugar and 500ml (1 pint) of the water to the pan.
Bring it to a rolling boil until the liquid has reduced by half.
Set aside to cool for 5-10 mins.
Pour into a large, fairly shallow, freezer-proof container and top up with the remaining water.
Stir and place in the freezer.
Freeze for 3 or 4 hours but take it out and stir with a fork every ¾ of an hour or so.
When it resembles a slush, it is ready to serve.
23
PREPARATIONS AND JANE
The subject of Sofía and Alejandro’s wedding was a red-hot talking point in El Hoyo that summer. Carmen, as the bride’s mother, could think about little else, and confided in me often.
“Can you believe it?” she said, all her double chins jiggling. She looked up from sewing her daughter’s wedding dress. “Sofía and Alejandro, they could have their wedding anywhere! The family of Alejandro has told them to choose any venue in Andalucía. They could get married in the biggest church, and have their reception in a luxury hotel.”
“Wow!”
“They could hold their reception on a boat, or even in a castle. But where have they chosen?” Carmen stared at me, her lips pressed together, waiting for me to reply.
I knew the answer, but I wasn’t going to pour water on her bonfire.
“I don’t know. Where have they chosen?”
“They have chosen here! El Hoyo!” Her chins fairly wobbled with glee.
“No! Really?”
“Yes, Sofía has all the latest gadgets and modern things, but really she is a traditional, home-loving soul at heart.”
“I think that’s wonderful!”
To me, it seemed absolutely right that the pair should marry in the village, even if money was no object, and I was very much looking forward to comparing the event with an English wedding.
“But the church is so small! Not all our guests will fit in,” Carmen exclaimed.
I could certainly believe that. Spanish families are very big.
“Oh dear, what will you do?” I asked.
“Well, some people will have to stand outside.”
“Never mind, I’m sure it’ll all be just perfect. We’d like to give the novios (bridal pair) a gift,” I said. “Do they have a wedding list?”
Carmen looked confused for a second, then jumped up.
“Ah! You mean a number! I will write it down for you on a piece of paper.”
She scribbled something, and passed the paper to me. I glanced at it, but said nothing. Later, when I showed the paper to Joe, we realised what it was. It was Sofía and Alejandro’s bank details. We were a little surprised, but when we talked to others, we were informed that this is a typical Spanish wedding practice. Guests are given the bride and groom’s bank details so that they can make a direct deposit into their bank account.
“That seems a bit clinical,” said Joe, “but I guess it saves the happy couple from unwrapping twenty salt and pepper sets as gifts.”
That last summer evaporated faster than any I could remember. Now that our house was sold, everything needed sorting. Packing, visa, flights… I began to generate enough lists to paper a wall and I tossed and turned in bed every night before falling asleep, exhausted.
I searched online for shipping companies that would take our possessions to Australia. I spent hours costing it, and finally came to a conclusion.
“Joe, I think we should leave all our furniture and stuff here.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yes. All our furniture is good and solid, but it’s twenty years old, or more. I don’t think it will travel well, and it will be hugely expensive. And we’d have to store it until we found somewhere to live. It’ll cost about the same to buy everything new in Australia.”
“Heavens! What should we do? Sell it here?”
“I don’t really know who would buy it in Spain. I was thinking we should just leave it with the house.”
“Well, Alison and her sister are coming on Friday, we can check with them.”
And that was another of my many worries. What if Alison and Steve didn’t like our house as much after a second viewing? What if they changed their minds and pulled out? They hadn’t paid a deposit and everything was sealed with a mere handshake.
But I needn’t have worried. Alison happily toured the house with her sister in tow.
“Just look at the view,” she enthused to her sister. “I can’t believe I’m going to wake up to this every morning.”
The sun was high in the sky and the shadows on the craggy mountains were crisp and deep. In the distance, the ocean glimmered, just a shade paler than the sky.
“Is everything as good as you remembered it?” I asked.
“Better,” she replied, “even better. I just can’t wait! We fly back to England tomorrow and I’ll get the deposit sent out to you immediately. I don’t want you selling the house to anybody else!”
“Thank you. The deposit would secure the house for you. I’ve been thinking about the furniture,” I said, changing the subject. “It’s going to be really expensive to ship it out to Australia. All the beds, the dining set, the three piece suite, chests of drawers, coffee tables… We were wondering whether we could leave them here?”
To my astonishment, Alison clapped her hands.
“Perfect!” she cried. “I love all this solid wood furniture, and it fits so well here. The people who are buying our house want our furniture so it couldn’t be better! It will save us bringing our furniture from England, too, and the house will be ready to move into immediately.”
“So that’s two things less for you to worry about,” said Joe that evening, as we sat on the roof terrace watching the sun go down. “They didn’t change their minds about buying the house, and we don’t have to worry about packing up the furniture.”
“Yes, it all went like clockwork, didn’t it? The next thing on my list is to book the flights to Sydney for September.”
“Ah.”
Joe sighed and looked at me.
“What?” I couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.
“Vicky…”
“Yes? What?”
“I’ve been putting off saying this, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. My next hormone injection is due in September, and it looks as though I’ll probably need radiotherapy treatment.”
“Yes, but…”
“Please. Just listen.”
Joe must have known that his treatment had been another of my
worries, and I was glad it was now out in the open. We needed to talk. I waited.
“Both the injection and the radiotherapy are routine and will be done in the UK without any fuss. They have all my medical history and I’m already booked in for it. If I go straight to Australia in September, I’ll have to enter their medical system and start from scratch. And that’s if they’ll even agree to treat me. The Australian health system is nothing like the British National Health Service.”
This was much worse than I had imagined. I felt shaky. My mouth was dry and my head spun.
“Yes, but…”
“My COPD is slowly getting worse, as we knew it would. You must have noticed how breathless I get climbing the stairs to the roof terrace now.”
“What are you saying?” I asked at last. “Are you not coming with me to Australia?”
“No, I’m saying I can’t come with you this September.”
“But…”
“I’m saying that I need to go back to the UK for treatment. I’m saying you should go alone, and I’ll join you just as soon as I can. Go and stay with Karly, Cam and Indy and find the perfect home for us. You know you love looking at houses, and I trust you utterly to find something that will suit us.”
“Alone?”
“You won’t be alone. You’ll have Karly and Cam.”
“But house-hunting, and…”
I stopped. He was right. There really wasn’t any choice. Of course he’d much prefer not to be ill, and not to need treatment and to come with me, but that wasn’t possible. Complaining about it wouldn’t help either of us.
“Come here,” he said, reaching for me.
He pulled me close and we sat like that for a long time until the sun slipped behind the mountains.
With a heavy heart, I typed in the details.
One passenger.
Departure 7th September, 2015.
Arrival 9th September, 2015.
No return ticket required.
It felt so final.
I have to admit to shedding a few tears as I booked my flight to Australia. There were so many things to assimilate. We were leaving Spain and all our friends. We’d never experience another fiesta, and the coming wedding would be our last village event. The fact that Joe wouldn’t be sitting beside me on the plane, sharing the sadness, and the excitement of beginning a new chapter, made it even worse.
Two Old Fools in Turmoil Page 19