‘Will you be okay without me?’ Becky had asked. ‘I was planning to be back in work by now.’
‘Your mother died less than two weeks ago, sweetheart. I had a whole month off when my dear ma passed away. Take all the time you want.’
Now, as Becky stares up at the labyrinth of white buildings set into the cliffs above her, she feels slight hope. Kay is right, she is being brave. And she might be meeting her sister soon!
That means she might see Idris too, which is a thought that doesn’t appeal quite as much.
She looks at her guide book. The gypsy caves of Sacromonte, it reads, a place popular with tourists because of its flamenco dancing and gypsy guitar players.
She continues walking up the hill, the strum of the guitars growing louder along with the chatter of people. White buildings surround a plaza: shops, museums, cafés all built into caves on the side of the hills. It’s pretty, starch white against blue skies. Tourists mill about, peering into the caves and taking photos. Becky pauses, looking back down towards Granada, the views breath-taking. She can see why Idris might have fled here, the beauty of it all. But it is also so busy, so touristy, a contrast to the informal cave community he’d set up in Kent.
A mother and daughter walk past, the mother frail, the daughter supporting her. Are they holidaying together? Becky can’t help but wonder if she would have done the same if things had been different with her mum.
In fact, maybe she’d be travelling with her sister right now if she’d known about her.
Becky buys a cool drink then strolls towards the back of the crowd, watching as typically handsome Spanish men in white shirts play music, tourists clapping along to the beat. The music epitomises Spanish holidays in the sun, bringing back memories of the holiday Becky’s dad treated her to a couple of months after they moved to Busby-on-Sea, which had felt like a kind of consolation prize for not having her mum around. Instead, it had made her even more achingly aware of her mum’s absence as she sat across from her quiet, contemplative father at mealtimes, a contrast to her mum’s constant chatter and vibrancy.
Becky sighs and notices some stray dogs loitering in an alleyway. Mixed breeds, one lean and golden, the other small and black. She can’t help but gravitate towards them, reaching into her bag to see if she has any dog treats in there. They peer up when they see her, a small black terrier baring its teeth and growling.
‘I’d keep away from that one,’ a British voice with a Birmingham accent says. ‘Looks vicious.’
Becky turns to see a man leaning against the wall, tall with short black dreadlocks, his nose pierced with a green jewel. He is wearing loose Bermuda shorts to his knees, a white T-shirt with a black tweed necklace around his neck, a stone hanging from it.
‘It’ll be fine,’ she murmurs as she steps closer to the dogs. ‘Just letting me know who’s boss.’ She gently places the treats she’s found in her bag on the floor and the dogs slowly pad forward, the small black terrier still growling.
‘My mate had a Jack Russell that looked like that little one,’ the man says. ‘Had one eye, looked cute as anything. Nearly bit my arm off when I tried to stroke it though.’
‘That’s terriers for you,’ Becky says. ‘Just takes them a while to trust people.’
The terrier takes one of the treats, chewing it thoughtfully. The other dog watches it, as though waiting for a signal. When the terrier takes another, the large dog leaps forward, gulping most of the treats up. The terrier slowly approaches Becky, wagging its tail. She leans down, softly stroking his ears.
‘We have a dog whisperer in our midst,’ the man says with a raised eyebrow.
‘No, just a vet.’
‘Cool. Where you from?’
‘Sussex. You?’
‘Can’t you tell from the accent?’
‘The Midlands?’
The man nods. He steps forward, putting his hand out. ‘Kai.’
Becky shakes it. ‘Becky.’
‘Picking up strays again, Kai?’ a smiling woman says. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt with two avocados on it, beneath it the words ‘Let’s avocuddle’. Next to her is a stocky man with the same light hair as the woman.
‘Becky, meet Hannah and Ed. Ed and Hannah, meet Becky. She’s a vet!’
‘Hello!’ Hannah says, smiling at Becky. ‘You here alone?’
Becky nods. It makes her think of her mum suddenly, like she should be here with her, searching for the child she lost as a newborn.
‘We’re about to get a drink,’ Kai says. ‘Want to join us?’
She looks at her watch to see it’s nearly five. ‘I need to go check out the caves. Thanks for the invite though.’
‘Another cave lover!’ Hannah declares.
‘You a speleologist, like us?’ Ed asks.
‘I don’t even know what a speleologist is,’ Becky replies.
‘We study caves,’ Kai explains. ‘I guess you could describe us as cavers with the science bit added.’
‘That’s really interesting.’ Becky peers towards the caves lining the street. ‘Do you know a lot about the caves here?’
‘More than most,’ Kai replies.
Becky pulls out the copy of National Geographic that she found in her mum’s office. ‘Do you recognise this cave?’ she asks, pointing to the small cave pictured behind the group.
Kai takes the magazine, staring at it. Then he shakes his head. ‘You’re in the wrong place.’
Disappointment floods through Becky. ‘But these are the Sacromonte caves, right? Please don’t tell me I’ve come all this way for nothing.’
He laughs. ‘Don’t panic. There are other caves – up there, beyond the fence.’ He points further up the hills towards a line of fence. ‘This is where the gypsy community live, where all the tourists flock. But up there, that’s where real life happens.’
Hannah nods. ‘That’s where we’re heading after we have a drink.’
‘Are you working up there then?’ Becky asks.
They shake their heads. ‘This is pleasure,’ Kai says.
‘We love caves so much, we decide to have holidays in them,’ Ed adds as Hannah smiles. ‘Lots of different people live up there. People passing through. Others who’ve found their homes there. They keep away from the tourist trail. Not many people know the caves are up there.’
Becky looks at the fence, at the bushy land, the sun a sharp yellow beyond it. That would make more sense, wouldn’t it? Idris holed up there with his daughter. She feels a thrill of excitement and trepidation at the thought she might be moments away from seeing the man her mum had an affair with … and the sister she never knew.
‘Well, I’ll see you up there,’ she says, going to march up the hill.
‘Wait,’ Kai says, gently grabbing her hand and stopping her. ‘They can be a bit funny about people just turning up and poking their noses in.’
‘But isn’t that what you’re all about to do?’ Becky replies.
‘My cousin lives there so we’re staying with him,’ Kai explains.
Becky sighs. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘You can come with us if you want?’ Kai says. ‘But first you need to join us for a drink, just to make sure you’re not a serial cave killer.’
She looks at the three of them, their friendly faces, sunburnt and happy. She had imagined doing this alone, a solitary search. But maybe she needs help after all? She shrugs.
‘Sure. I can’t promise anything about the serial killer side though.’
They end up in a small café set into a cave, sitting around a table topped with red and white patched cloth. Hannah orders them coffee and cake in Spanish, and they all arrive in colourful china, the cakes’ thick triangle wedges topped with what looks like jam.
‘Piononos,’ Hannah explains. ‘A Granada speciality.’
Becky takes a bite, cinnamon and lemon filling her mouth. ‘Delicious,’ she says between mouthfuls.
‘My favourite part is the rum in this cake,’ Kai says with a wink. �
��So what brings you here then?’ he asks Becky. ‘I get the impression this isn’t just a holiday for you. You have a determined look on your face.’
‘Like when Kai sees a new headlamp’s come on the market,’ Ed adds with a wry smile. They all laugh.
Becky looks at each of their eager faces. What’s the harm in telling them?
‘I’m trying to find my sister,’ she says, the word sister sounding foreign on her tongue. ‘I think she might have been brought here when she was a baby.’
She suddenly imagines her mum forlorn in the cave, arms empty, tears falling down her cheeks, unable to report Idris in case social services found out. Did it really happen like that?
She feels tears flood to her eyes and looks down at her food, coughing slightly. She notices Kai watching her with pity.
‘You’ve never met your sister?’ Hannah asks Becky softly.
‘It’s a long story,’ Becky says, looking back up with a smile. ‘I just think she might have lived here at some point. Remember the little girl in the photo I showed you? It could be her, she’d be about the right age.’ She shrugs, taking a sip of her strong coffee. ‘It’s a bit of a wild goose chase but I need to feel like I’ve tried.’
‘Absolutely,’ Kai says. ‘You’ll only regret it otherwise.’
They all look up towards the caves above and Becky takes a deep breath. She hopes she’ll find her sister. She really does.
After eating, the four of them head up the hill. The views are spectacular, the sun still hot on their necks, the sound of crickets muffling their ears.
Kai is clearly the joker, pretending at one point to trip and slip off the cliff, sending the three of them rushing towards the edge to see him standing on a large ledge below. It’s also clear Hannah and Ed are an item, just subtle hints in the way Ed puts his hand on Hannah’s back to guide her towards the fence; how she looks up and smiles at him occasionally. Becky surprises herself by suddenly yearning to be here with someone, to have a partner to lean on. She’s had boyfriends over the past few years but nothing as serious as her first big relationship, just the odd fling at veterinary college or awkward dates with friends of friends, even a vet who’d worked at the practice for a few weeks as a locum. Problem is, she enjoys her own company too much … and the company of her dogs. It’s hard for a man to match up to the tranquillity and independence of her life. They tend to bring in too much drama, too much neediness. She likes the little world she’s created for herself, just her and the dogs. But she does yearn for male companionship sometimes and she does want children, eventually. She keeps telling herself she’s still young, but she’s been saying that for years now.
At least she isn’t here completely alone. She’s walking in Granada with three strangers she met just an hour ago, searching for a sister she’s never known. She shakes her head. Unbelievable. What would her mum think? Becky smiles to herself. She’d like it. Not just the fact Becky was trying to find her sister. But also the adventure of it; the impulsiveness.
The smile slips from Becky’s face. She isn’t doing this to impress her mum. She is doing it for her, to find her sister. She shrugs her rucksack up, legs aching under the weight. As she reaches the fence, Kai puts his hand out, helping her over some rocks.
‘Well, this could be it,’ he says. ‘You might be meeting your sister soon.’
‘Maybe.’
They walk beyond the fence and a little further up until the cave dwellings come into view. Many have doors, some with structures built out from the mountains with colourfully painted tin roofs. The smell of delicious food being cooked fills the air, reggae music coming from a stereo in the distance mingling with laughter and talking, dogs barking, even the sound of a child playing. It sits in contrast to the touristy gypsy caves below, these caves more colourful and jaunty, ad-hoc and messy.
‘This is real living,’ Kai says, hands on his hips as he takes it all in. ‘Not living set out to impress tourists.’
Becky thinks of her sister being here as a child. It wouldn’t be how Becky would have liked to live, but it looks comfortable enough.
‘Yep,’ Ed replies with a satisfied grin. ‘What’s not to love? Reggae music. No tourists.’
‘And caves!’ Hannah adds.
Becky can’t imagine living like this. It feels too claustrophobic. Even the cave where her mum lived, with all its vastness, would feel too much, people living on top of each other.
They all walk up to the first row of caves. A young woman is sitting outside the first one, smoking a cigarette and reading a book. Above her bright blue door hangs colourful bunting. The sweet smell of something cooking drifts out towards them, the tinkle of soft music.
The woman peers up when she sees them. ‘No tourists,’ she says, her voice heavily accented. Becky guesses Italian.
‘It’s okay,’ Kai says. ‘I know Dean.’
The woman’s face relaxes. ‘Ah, sorry. We just don’t like people coming to watch us like we are animals in a zoo. Up there,’ she says, jutting her chin towards a line of caves two rows above them.
Kai, Ed and Hannah go to walk up the path but Becky stays where she is. ‘You coming?’ Kai asks.
‘I’ll find you,’ she replies. She takes a moment to stare up at the caves. If her sister is here, chances are she’ll meet her soon … and Idris. How will she know it’s her? Will she look like Becky? Like their mum?
Or like Idris?
She pulls her mum’s copy of National Geographic out and approaches the woman. ‘I’m looking for someone,’ she says, pointing to the photo of Idris and the little girl. ‘Maybe you can help?’
The Italian woman shakes her head as she notices the date. ‘I’ve only been here two years. You need to find Julien. That’s him there,’ she says, gesturing to a tall black man in the photo. ‘He’s been here the longest, he knows everyone. He lives there.’
Becky follows the direction the woman’s pointing towards the top of the mountain to see a solitary cave as its peak.
‘He gets a bit confused so don’t be surprised if he says something strange. It’s not his fault. We think it’s probably Alzheimer’s but he doesn’t want to see a doctor. His decision.’ The woman shrugs and continues reading her book.
Becky thanks her then continues up the path, past more caves, including one with charred insides, as though it’s been set on fire. People are going about their daily lives: cooking on small barbecues or makeshift kitchens, drinking beer as they listen to music, reading and laughing. She tries to recognise anyone who might look like her sister among them, Idris too, but nobody does.
At the next row of caves, she sees Kai in the distance, hugging a man with a head of curly dark hair.
‘This is Dean,’ he says to Becky when she approaches them. ‘Dean, this is Becky.’
‘Welcome to the best views in Andalusia,’ Dean says, sweeping his hands towards the spectacular scene sprawling beyond them, tree-clad hills tapering down towards the pretty white buildings of Granada. Behind him is a decent-sized cave, bigger than the others she’s seen, neat and sparse with a small single bed and a good amount of floor space. There’s even a small kitchen and, to Becky’s surprise, a light which is brightening the darker parts of the cave. Hannah and Ed are unloading their backpacks beneath it, taking quick sips of their water as they look up at the cave with smiles on their faces.
‘I was only expecting three visitors, but I can squeeze an extra in,’ Dean says, looking at Becky.
‘Oh no, it’s fine,’ she says. ‘I’m staying in Granada.’
‘Sure?’ Dean asks. ‘Won’t often have the chance to sleep in a cave overnight.’
Becky gets a flash of her mum then, lying dead in her arms with her eyes staring up at the cave’s roof.
Becky blinks the image away then nods. ‘I’m sure.’
‘You guys hungry?’ Dean asks, gesturing towards his tiny kitchen.
‘We just ate,’ Hannah says.
Dean smiles. ‘Time for beer then!’
‘So you have electricity here?’ Becky asks as she takes the beer he hands her.
‘Yep, all rigged up. Pretty sophisticated set-up,’ Dean replies.
Was her mum’s cave like that? She can’t remember.
‘So I hear you’re looking for your sister?’ Dean says.
Becky nods and pulls a magazine out, showing the photo to Dean, gesturing to the blurry photo of the man she thinks is Idris and the little girl.
Dean studies it and nods. ‘I wasn’t there then but yeah, I know about that dude,’ he says, pointing to Idris. ‘Idris, right?’
So it is him.
‘Is he still here?’ she asks.
Dean shakes his head. ‘Nope.’ The disappointment Becky feels is almost crushing. Her little sister, just a few years old by then, wouldn’t have stayed if Idris left. ‘Like I said,’ Dean continues, ‘I wasn’t here when he was. But I’ve heard of him from Julien and some others. Unmistakable with that long hair, right?’
‘What about the girl?’ Kai asks.
‘There were a few people with him,’ Dean says. ‘He had this cult leader act going on apparently, thought he’d found the meaning of life. They still follow some of what he preached up there,’ he says, peering up at the top caves. ‘He was here five years, made quite an impression. Something spooked him though so he left.’
Becky frowns. ‘What spooked him?’
Dean shrugs. ‘No idea, it’s just what Julien told people.’
‘Maybe your sister stayed on?’ Hannah says to Becky, putting her hand on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile.
‘She would have only been five,’ Becky says.
‘Which would put her in her twenties now?’ Dean asks. Becky nods. ‘I don’t know every single person here, quite a few at the top keep themselves to themselves. There are a few girls in their twenties with light hair like yours and your sister’s though. Would be worth you going up there, looking around. A couple may have taken her in, that’s the kind of thing people do here. Tell them you know me if they ask. If you have no luck, ask Julien. He’s been here the longest.’
The Lost Sister Page 14