`Oh yes, I do. You told me.' Luis stood up. 'I thought—that is I hoped, I suppose—that you didn't mean it. You want your privacy. You want to be left alone. Freedom, I think you called it. I hope it's not another name for loneliness.'
She gasped and he looked at her unsmilingly before turning on his heel.
`I know you rather well by now, Olivia,' was all he said. She had the feeling that it was true.
During the ensuing weeks she came to be increasingly convinced of it. Not that she had any cause to complain of his behaviour—far from it. He treated her with meticulous courtesy, never once went out without telling her when he would return, introduced her to his friends, discussed newspaper items and generally conducted himself like a model husband. But there were occasions, when she looked up from a magazine, or came upon him unexpectedly in the large apartment, when she surprised on his face a considering look. It made her feel as if she were some interesting specimen that he had picked up and was trying to tame. It infuriated her to be, as she phrased it to herself, dealt with, but as there was no specific omission on his part that
AN 'UNDEFENDED CITY
she could point to, she was deprived of even the right to complain. Except to herself, of course which she did endlessly, usually in a bath time interior monologue.
He had brought her home that night, installed her in a room obviously newly decorated and exactly to her taste (a fact which further served to enrage her, quite incomprehensibly), shown her the bathroom which joined her room with his own and left her. Since then he had never intruded on her privacy. Even when they were dressing to go out, he would not come and talk to her while she dressed her hair or chose her jewels. This formality at first struck Olivia as oppressive, then as downright intolerable. She tried a little, at the beginning, to break it down, but she was shy and made no headway. Then it occurred to her that he was doing it as much to protect himself from her invasion of his privacy as from consideration for herself, and she withdrew into her shell.
In spite of her dissatisfaction, Olivia showed a contented face to the world. She was used to hiding her feelings, and pride, as much as fear of being further hurt, now came to her aid. She and Luis were invited out more and more to dinners, barbecues, races, and their hosts would have been very surprised to know that the Escobars were less than ideally happy.
It was not as trying as it might have been. After four days' leave, during which he had conscientiously escorted her to the Museum of Anthropology, the water gardens at Xochimilco and the Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuacan, Luis had returned to work. Many evenings he was not home till ten or later. On these occasions Olivia, who had English notions of the hours that servants should be expected to work, cooked supper for him.
These were the evenings she enjoyed most when they seemed to rediscover something of their earlier ease with each other. Perhaps because she was busy and felt herself to be useful; perhaps because he was too tired to maintain his remote politeness, they fell into a bantering way of talking to each other which, on more formal occasions, was quite lacking.
The rest of the time she occupied herself with improving her Spanish, shopping and getting to know the three servants. The cook was a large woman whose husband was porter in an apartment building in the centre of town. She cleaned five units before she arrived at work at nine o'clock and, when Olivia discharged her at five, went home to spend the rest of the evening sitting in the porter's lodge answering the telephone and taking messages. During Luis's sole tenancy of the apartment she had often stayed late to cook a meal for him and she was grateful to be relieved of this necessity by his new and eccentric wife. Nevertheless she despised Olivia for turning her hand to such menial work. Olivia and Luis both knew this. At first it had worried Olivia that Luis might be losing face with people .other than his domestic staff because of her oddities, but Luis had laughed so heartily at the thought and professed himself so grateful for her attentions that she had banished concern.
The other two servants included Luis's own valet and chauffeur, who had been with his father and was more like an indulgent uncle than a paid hireling, and a newly acquired maid of fifteen or so. Pepe spoke perfect English already and was well disposed towards the new mistress. Olivia soon became much attached to him and relied a good deal on his advice, particularly when marketing. Seeing this, Luis suggested that Pepe teach her to drive. She would need her own car, living so far out of the centre. She could not travel by bus and taxis could be hard to find. Of course, when he was out of town Pepe could drive her, but when Luis needed him, she was effectively tied to the house. She must learn to drive.
Remembering that he had said much the same thing on the first occasion that they met, but that then he had been promising to teach her to drive himself, Olivia shed tears in private. In public she was quite snappy when the subject was raised. Driven to the wall by logical argument, she ended by announcing defiantly that if she needed a chauffeur when Pepe was otherwise engaged she would solicit Diego's help.
This was not well received and she rejoiced. She did not often get a hit in under her husband's guard.
To tell the truth Olivia was seeing rather a lot of Diego. Much of the time Luis was away at sites, sometimes for days at a stretch, and although his friends were kind enough to Olivia when he introduced her to them, she was still shy of calling on them without his social support. She was therefore necessarily thrown back upon her own family for company during these bleak periods. Diego in particular, growing daily more enchanted with his cousin (and seeing in her charming company no threat to his own much prized freedom), was particularly willing to show her Mexico and help her enjoy it.
They ate out together, danced together, even went on picnics together, with some of Diego's cronies. They were a light hearted crowd, easy to get on with and uncritical, and Olivia found them a relief after the strains of running a new home in a new language. What she did not realise was that she was attracting attention by her behaviour.
The first she learned of it was during a duty visit to her mother-in-law. Olivia was extremely fond of Victor and visited the house in San Angel with less reluctance than she might otherwise have felt, because of it. He reminded her of Luis, though a gentler, less impenetrable Luis. And he talked, by the hour if she desired, of their younger life. She felt that she was coming closer to her husband than Luis would allow through direct contact. It half-shamed her to be creeping upon this underhand way and so she was, if anything, more reserved than usual with him after her visits to his family. He ascribed it to difficulties in the relationship with his mother.
Señora Escobar was treading carefully with her shy daughter-in-law. Having started off on the wrong foot, though for the best of reasons, she was now doing her best to retrieve the relationship. For that reason, if for no other, she would have preferred not to be the one to tell Olivia that her activities with her cousin were creating gossip. For some time she hoped that Olivia's own good sense would point it out. But she reckoned without the effects of a sheltered up-
bringing and a modest character that could not understand why anyone else should be interested in her affairs. At last Señora Escobar was reluctantly compelled to remonstrate.
Olivia, of course, did not notice the reluctance, nor would she have believed in it if she had. She merely thought that her mother-in-law was once again interfering, with malicious intent, in her private life. She was cold and polite and put the matter out of her head. But her visits to San Angel became less frequent and she was seen more often with Diego.
`There'll be an explosion,' said Señora Escobar direfully to her elder son. 'You mark my words. I don't care why Luis married her. And it's my belief he's fonder of her than he first thought. But in any case he won't let anyone else encroach on his property.'
Victor laughed at her, but he too, in his heart, was concerned for Olivia. He knew that all was not well with the marriage and he was also well aware, from Olivia's artless interest in all things concerning his brother, that she was deeply in l
ove with Luis. He feared that if his brother did treat her to a display of his formidable temper, she would be so shocked and hurt that she might never recover. He had tried to suggest that, if she needed a friend, the house in San Angel was always at her disposal, but he knew well enough that she did not trust his mother sufficiently to avail herself of the invitation, should the need arise. And, in a crisis, Victor had only the lowest opinion of Olivia's own family.
The crisis arose sooner than anyone could have expected. A film premiere to which Luis and Olivia had been invited occurred one Friday night. Luis was called away on Wednesday, back to the waterlogged jungle site on the Guatemalan border. Olivia, having learned not to demur, put aside all thought of going to the film and decided to pay a call on Elena Cisneros instead. But Elena was going out of town for the weekend. Diego, however, was with her and suggested that he take Olivia to the premiere instead. She hesitated, remembering her mother-in-law's strictures. Then, deciding that there could be no harm in going to a
public place of entertainment with her cousin, Olivia accepted.
She dressed for the evening in a somewhat defiant mood. If Luis had spoken kindly to her before he left, or shown one sign of regret at leaving her behind, things might have been different. But Luis was showing very clearly that he had lived without her intrusive presence in his home before they were married and that he could live without her very easily now. So at least thought Olivia.
She wore, therefore, a challenge to the censorious and a boost to her own spirits, an emerald green dress that made her skin look startlingly white. It had a low neckline, lower back, and a skirt that was designed rather for sweeping regal curtsies than pushing past the knees of other film fans. Diego was amazed and, when he had recovered his breath, suitably complimentary.
The loss of breath was not entirely a stage trick. Diego too had been taken to task for making his cousin a spectacle. Even his father had said he was going too far, and he had hoped to pass the evening off rather more quietly than Olivia's dress would permit. In the vain hope that, if they did not dine together, some of the comment would be stilled, he brought her back to the apartment.
`You must let me make you supper,' said Olivia hospitably.
`I—that's very kind of you, but I think I should be going,' replied Diego, acutely uncomfortable.
`Oh, surely not,' she teased. 'You must be so hungry. And I'm really a perfectly respectable cook.'
`I'm sure you are. It's not that.'
`Then what?' demanded Olivia.
Without asking his preference because now she knew it very well, she had poured him a whisky and soda and brought it over to him.
`Well, Livvy, I mean you're only just married,' he mumbled. 'And people talk.'
She shrugged. 'I don't care what people say. You sound like my mother-in-law. Just because I ,choose to brew up a stew for my cousin, who's to criticise?'
'I'm not just your cousin,' he pointed out.
'I don't follow you,' said Olivia, genuinely puzzled.
He sighed. 'Look, Livvy—you're young, so am I, and we're the opposite sex. People are bound to talk. Especially if they knew we were supposed to get married if Luis hadn't got there first.'
Olivia laughed, a high, angry laugh. Diego, seeing her brilliant eyes, did not recognise anger.
'I can't be bothered what a parcel of tittle-tattlers say,' said Olivia vaingloriously.
Such courage, such disregard for the conventions fired him with admiration. And this was the timid cousin that his father had called boring! She was still standing close to him, green dress and green eyes shimmering. He did not observe the slightly set look about the mouth, nor the fact that the eyes were fixed on some distant horizon beyond his shoulder. He was entranced.
'You're wonderful!' he breathed, gathering her into his arms.
The glass fell to the floor and was crushed underfoot. Olivia, who had not expected the move, was caught off balance and held helpless for a moment before she struggled indignantly against his chest.
'Wonderful,' said Diego, carried away and slightly foolish as a result. 'Gorgeous. I never thought there could be anyone like you.'
He kissed her. Olivia gave an infuriated squeak, tried to protest and found that this idle cousin of hers was considerably stronger than he appeared. When he raised his head to draw breath she moaned.
'Oh, Diego,' she began, and got no further.
'Very affecting,' said an icicle behind them.
They both gaped, and for pure fright, held on to each other, not the most diplomatic of moves in the circumstances.
'Don't let me disturb you,' said the icicle with poisonous amiability. 'I merely emerged for some coffee. I'm going back to my study immediately.'
'Luis!' said Olivia, somewhat superfluously, thought her
cousin. 'What are you doing here? I thought you were in the south.'
He shrugged. 'I was. But I had to come back to see a man tomorrow on business, so I thought I might just as well make it this evening and take you to that film. By the time I arrived you had already left, however.'
`I went with Diego.'
`So I infer,' said the injured husband pleasantly. He gave Diego a look which made that young gentleman's blood run cold to the marrow of his bones. 'I hope you enjoyed yourselves. By the way, it's not really very civil to hug my wife in front of my eyes, if you know what I mean. A bit obvious.'
Diego's arms fell to his sides like a clockwork soldier. Olivia, unexpectedly released, staggered and sat down on a low sofa. She put a hand to her head. Her hair, disarranged in the tussle with Diego, fell over her fingers. Luis watched the gesture, a muscle working in his throat. He gave no other sign of disturbance, but Diego was aware of a strong inclination to withdraw.
`Well, now that Luis is home you won't want me,' he told Olivia with an attempt at a smile that flickered nervously.
It was not an entirely felicitious statement and earned him a look of burning reproach from Olivia. Her husband, however, had to turn away to hide a twitching lip. In the silence Diego backed to the door.
`I'll be getting along, then,' he muttered, and made good his escape.
`Not very chivalrous,' remarked Luis, as the echo of the slammed door died away.
Olivia did not look at him. She felt as guilty as if she had been caught out in serious wrongdoing, instead of being forcibly kissed by a silly boy who was her cousin to boot.
`Next time I should choose someone a bit more gallant,' advised her husband, preparing to return to his study.
She looked up then.
`It wasn't—what you thought,' she managed.
Luis was amused. 'How do you know what I thought?' Olivia stared at him. 'That—well, that Diego and I ' He made a weary gesture. 'My dear Livvy, you must do
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as you please. Only remember that Mexico is a relatively small society. You have made this thing with Diego a bit public. I assure you,' with a charming smile which did not reach his eyes, 'you'll be a lot more comfortable if you're a little more discreet.'
Her eyes widened as if at a blow. She sat on his couch, hunched over her arms as if she had been kicked, with the green eyes blurring as she stared, mortally hurt. The final humiliation was his use of her family's name for her. He had always called her Olivia before.
She called pride to her defence. 'Of course, you're right, I'm sure. You must have had so much experience.' The words bit. She inclined her head. 'I'll try to remember your suggestion.'
Standing up she looked him straight in the eye. He was taller than she, but her heels brought her nearer his level and she lifted her chin. He should not see how he had hurt her. She had never been angrier in her life.
There was almost an unwilling admiration in his gaze.
`It would make things easier for all of us,' he murmured.
`I'll bear it in mind.' She turned away, needing to go to her room to weep or, as she felt was rather more likely, to rip the curtains from end to end. She was sh
ivering with shock and temper.
`Where are you going?'
`Bed!' she snapped.
`There's something I would like to discuss first,' he said firmly.
`Yes?' she asked with her back to him.
His mouth twitched again, but he controlled it.
`About tomorrow,' he said mildly. 'I told you I'd got to meet someone. He's quite important. He's going to finance the new drill.'
Olivia turned very slowly. 'New drill?' she said in disbelief. Her whole life crashed into ruins and he stood and talked about a new drill.
`The one I designed. The one Escobar Incorporated is marketing. This feldow is a banker I've managed to interest.'
`What,' she asked with immense disdain, `has that to do with me?'
His eyes glittered dangerously. He might find her indiscretions not without their amusing side, but he did not tolerate slighting reference to his invention.
`We shall talk business during the day,' he explained. But the man's here till Sunday lunchtime. I want to take him out tomorrow night. And I want you to help me entertain him.'
There was a long, fraught moment when she wondered whether she could hit him or whether he would knock her down first. Then she toyed with the idea of bursting into tears. Finally she said, sweetly, 'Naturally I shall be available. It was in the marriage contract, wasn't it, and I told you I keep my promises. Do you want me to bring my cheque book?'
CHAPTER TEN
IT was morning. Young Señora Escobar was still in bed. This was unusual, because she had the English habit of rising early. When the cook expressed surprise, Pepe pointed out that she had been late at the cinema the night before and no doubt sat up even later talking to the Señor, who had returned unexpectedly. The Señor was very busy with his work. He had been in his study all night. The ashtray was full of cigarette ends and a pall of smoke hung in the air. The floor was littered with discarded drawings. He wanted coffee, but nothing to eat and no one was to disturb him.
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