The parade set off, led by what I assumed was a local brass band playing loudly and cheerfully. The adults who’d congregated in the plaza applauded as the boys and girls waved to them. I couldn’t help thinking of Brad and Alessandra’s son, Dylan, and I wondered how he was recovering from his injuries. The physical ones, anyway. It was impossible to know what emotional scars he’d been left with. Even though I checked the papers online every day, I hadn’t seen any news stories about him. But, of course, the earthquake had vanished from the news, replaced by other people’s tragedies. Meanwhile, Dylan’s utterly changed life would carry on outside the glare of the media.
I love you. I could suddenly hear Brad’s voice in my ear and feel his breath warm on the back of my neck, just as it had been the day before he left. I love you, Juno Ryan.
I flinched. The words seemed so real, so vivid. As though Brad really was close by. Instinctively, I turned around. But the only person behind me was Rosa, carrying a tray of drinks.
‘Granizado,’ she said. ‘A special flavour for today. Multifruit.’
I took one of the crushed ice drinks from her and focused my attention on the real people around me, not the phantom voices in my head.
‘Lovely,’ I said after I’d tasted it. ‘Very refreshing.’
The square began to fill up with even more people, mainly younger parents who clearly had children in the parade. Many of them were also pushing prams or had smaller children in their arms. The hubbub of good-natured conversation grew louder and louder. After a while, the marching band appeared again, followed by the children, who’d lost the solemnity and were laughing and waving. They marched up the steps of the stage and, led by a teacher, organised themselves into rows and began to sing.
‘It’s the song of the town,’ Rosa explained when she returned with more granizado for me and a couple of glasses of wine for the girls. ‘About how strong and determined we all are, and how we all support each other.’
‘It’s great. And the kids are fantastic.’ Saoirse was totally into the spirit of it all.
‘This is their day,’ said Rosa.
‘Though it’s not like they don’t join in everything else,’ I observed. ‘There were as many children as adults the first night.’
‘People tend to do more things as a family group here,’ agreed Rosa.
I used to think I’d have a family by the time I reached my thirties. I hadn’t wanted to wait until it was too late. I’d talked it over with Sean, and he’d agreed with me. Two kids, he’d said. One of each. And he’d smiled at me.
I hadn’t got around to thinking about Brad and babies. We were still too new as a couple. But it would have been there, in the back of my mind, sooner rather than later.
How did I get it so wrong?
Twice.
There was no sign of Pep, or any of the Navarros, at the flower parade. I realised, as the sun set and the marching band was replaced with a local group, that I’d been looking out for him. But the Navarros didn’t have small children, at least not in the immediate family. There had been younger cousins and nieces and nephews at the dinner the other evening. But I doubted I would have recognised them, anyhow.
The girls ordered more wine. I switched from granizado to sparkling water. The music seemed to grow louder. The crowd grew bigger. People started dancing. Cleo and Saoirse got up and dragged me with them. It felt weird to be hopping around as though I hadn’t a care in the world. But the truth was – I hadn’t. I was a single woman with no ties, living in Spain. I should be able to lose myself in the dance as much as I liked.
And then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around.
Pep was smiling. He held out his hand. Saoirse and Cleo pushed me towards him.
The music was too fast for an old-fashioned smooch, but he continued to hold me by the hand, twisting me, turning me this way and that until I was breathless and begging to stop. But when I sat down I saw that both Cleo and Saoirse were now dancing with men themselves and weren’t paying any attention to me.
‘You are happy to have your friends here?’ asked Pep as he sat down beside me.
‘Yes.’
He nodded. ‘There is less sadness in your eyes.’
‘My eyes are sad?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
I wished he hadn’t said that. I didn’t want people looking at me and feeling sorry for me. Really I didn’t. I wanted to keep my misery inside. Actually, that wasn’t true. I wanted to let it go. I couldn’t believe Pep had seen it. After all, it was patently obviously that I wasn’t miserable when I was with him.
‘Now I have made you sad again,’ said Pep. ‘I am sorry.’
‘I’m not sad,’ I assured him. ‘I was before. But I’m not now.’
‘That is good.’ And he put his arm around me.
Suddenly the music had a very Celtic tone to it.
‘Riverdance!’ cried Pep, even though it wasn’t actually Riverdance.
‘G’wan, Juno.’ Cleo flopped down at the table, accompanied by her dance partner, a man I didn’t know. She grinned at me. ‘Give us an aul’ reel there.’
‘I can’t,’ I protested.
‘But you said you could,’ Pep reminded me.
My objections were overruled. I took off my shoes so that I was dancing barefoot and, because it was in time to the music, danced the simplest of slip jigs. At first just Cleo and Saoirse, as well as Pep and his friends, were watching, but suddenly I realised that everyone in the plaza had gathered and were cheering me on. And when I’d finished the applause was as loud and generous as Michael Flatley and Jean Butler had ever experienced.
‘But that was amazing!’ said Pep, who then placed the lightest of kisses on my lips. ‘You are a proper dancer.’
‘I’m not that good, honestly.’ I was embarrassed at all the back-slapping I was getting. As well as the public kiss, no matter how fleeting it had been.
‘You won a medal at the Feis Ceoil,’ Saoirse teased.
‘When I was ten!’
As far as the people of Beniflor were concerned, I was talented beyond belief, and they made me dance again. After another slip jig and a reel, I collapsed on to a chair, protesting that I couldn’t do any more.
‘Estupendo,’ said José Ruiz, which seemed to be the general opinion on my efforts. Then some of the local girls danced flamenco, which, with all its foot-stamping and fan-fluttering, was a good deal sexier than Irish dancing. After that, the music reverted to more general stuff. By this point Saoirse had to admit that she was exhausted, and Cleo chimed in that she wasn’t much better, so we got up to go.
‘Hasta luego,’ said Pep, who hugged us all.
‘See you soon,’ I told him.
‘That was brilliant,’ said Cleo when we flopped down in the living room. ‘I haven’t had as much fun in ages. Your dancing was great, Juno. Everyone loved it.’
‘I guess it’s nice to bring a bit of Irish culture abroad with us,’ I said.
‘The guys were good fun too,’ said Saoirse. ‘None of them as sexy as your Pep, though.’
‘He’s not my Pep,’ I protested, even as they sniggered.
‘The town seems to think he is,’ said Cleo.
‘The town!’ I cried. ‘The whole town?’
‘You’re a hot topic of conversation.’ Saoirse winked at me.
‘In what way?’
‘A pretty girl living in a house on her own,’ she said. ‘They’re intrigued by it. And the fact that you did an emergency dash to the hospital with that little boy only enhanced their interest.’
‘What are they saying?’ I demanded.
‘That you’re some kind of artist looking for solitude.’ She grinned at me. ‘I told them your mum was a famous Irish actress and that you came from a well-known Irish family.’
‘Saoirse!’
‘And Andres said that there was a lot of talk about how you’re single-handedly renovating the Villa Naranja.’
‘I did the shutters, that’s all.’<
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‘And, of course, there’s the gossip about you and Pep.’
‘Please tell me you’re pulling my leg about that.’
She laughed. ‘What did you expect? You can’t spend your days shagging one of the town’s most eligible bachelors without people talking.’
‘They’re not saying that I’m spending my days shagging him. Are they?’
‘Well . . .’
‘No!’
‘Ah, they just say he’s besotted with you,’ she told me. ‘That you’ve enchanted him. And that he’s at the house more than is strictly necessary for maintaining the pool.’
‘My poor reputation,’ I said.
‘Good on you,’ said Cleo. ‘Put yourself out there. Fly the flag for sexy Irish women.’
‘I’m not . . .’ And then I laughed. There were worse things to do than fly the flag. I knew that already.
Chapter 17
I could hear Saoirse snoring through the bedroom wall. She doesn’t snore all the time, only when she’s had a few drinks. It was a rhythmic sound, a long, deep rattle as she inhaled, then a loud sigh when she released her breath. It drove me mad back in Dublin but here it was familiar and companionable
I was wide awake and her snoring was keeping me that way. So I put on my shorts and T-shirt and went downstairs. I let myself out of the house and sat on one of the patio chairs, overlooking the valley. There was no sign of the moon, but the stars were as bright as ever.
Like the ghost I’d named him after, Banquo suddenly appeared and jumped on to my lap. In the play, Lady Macbeth can’t see Banquo’s ghost, but my mum said that she always interpreted her as though she could. Yet despite the evidence of her own eyes, Mum’s Lady Macbeth ignored Banquo’s spirit because she wouldn’t let herself believe in ghosts.
‘Do you?’ I’d asked.
‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,’ she told me. And when I looked at her in bewilderment she said it was another Shakespearean quote, and it meant that we couldn’t explain everything. So there might be ghosts, or there might not. It was important to have an open mind.
As a practical person who believes in scientific research, I always have an open mind. Just because something is unexplained now, it doesn’t mean it can’t be explained eventually. All it means is we haven’t found out how. Which is why I don’t believe in ghosts – and never will.
And yet, sitting on the patio in the middle of the night, with Banquo purring on my lap, I was overcome with the feelings I’d had so many times since Brad had died. The feeling of being watched. The feeling that he had something to say to me. And a longing to say something to him in return.
Eventually, I went back to bed. Saoirse had stopped snoring, and I fell into an unsettled sleep.
I was up before the girls the following morning. By the time they arrived downstairs, I’d picked and squeezed oranges so that there was fresh juice for them to go with the fruit bowl I’d prepared. I wasn’t feeling watched now. And I’d shoved my shame and jealousy to the back of my mind.
‘This is the life,’ said Cleo after we’d finished with the fruit and moved on to coffee. ‘How could Pilar abandon it and move to Dublin?’
‘Better job opportunities,’ I said. ‘Also, Pilar didn’t live here. She was brought up in Valencia, remember? That’s where her parents still live. But there’s a lot of history to this house.’
I told them about the visit of Ana Perez and what she’d told me about Pilar’s great-grandfather.
‘That’d totally freak me out.’ Cleo glanced in the direction of the jacaranda tree. ‘I’d be terrified he was haunting the place.’
Now that I was over my uneasiness of the night before, I was able to tell her not to be so bloody silly.
‘I can’t help how I feel – ow!’ Cleo winced as Saoirse dug her in the ribs.
‘Juno has to stay here after we’re gone,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to have her worrying about ghosts while she’s stuck here in the middle of nowhere.’
‘I’m not worried about ghosts!’ I said in exasperation. ‘I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.’
Cleo shrugged.
‘Anyway.’ I got up and began to clear away the breakfast things. ‘I was thinking the beach might be nice today. The only thing we need to worry about there is having enough sunscreen.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Saoirse and went off to change.
The beach was fun. We lay around on the loungers in the sunshine, then swam in the sea for a while, then Cleo insisted we have a game of beach volleyball before having anything to eat. There were nets on the beach and we bought a ball at the beach bar, which seemed to sell everything, so we spent an hour throwing ourselves about on the sand enthusiastically if not very expertly. After that, we had burgers and chips. It was so long since a chip had passed my lips that it felt almost sinful eating it. I wondered if I’d turned into the kind of person who regards her body as a shrine but then remembered that I was knocking back a glass of the Navarro finest most evenings, so decided probably not.
By the time we got back to the Villa Naranja we were all exhausted, and I suggested that perhaps we might give the last night of the fiesta a miss. But the girls insisted that we had to go into town again and scurried off to wash their hair and beautify themselves. I headed for the shower too and scrubbed the sand from my body, thinking that it made a great exfoliator.
Eventually, we were ready. We assembled in the kitchen, all wearing light sundresses – mine was yellow, Saoirse’s pink and Cleo’s an almost neon orange.
‘Looking hot, if I say so myself,’ said Saoirse as she made us pose for a selfie. ‘Come on, ladies. Let’s show this town what we’ve got.’
If Beniflor had been buzzing on the previous nights, the atmosphere now was electric. The entire population seemed to have gathered in the square where, once again, there was live music and lots of food.
‘We picked the right time to come,’ Cleo said over the general hubbub. ‘Honestly, Juno, we might only be here for a couple of days but it’s as good as a fortnight!’
I grinned at her as I elbowed my way to one of the bars to get something to drink. I’d stayed on alcohol-free beer at the beach so that I’d been able to drive, and I was still on the alcohol-free stuff, but to be honest the whole ambience was so much fun that I didn’t mind in the least. The girls were drinking San Miguel, despite Saoirse having muttered earlier about not wanting a hangover two days in a row.
The first people we met were Catalina and her husband, José. There was no sign of Xavi, but Catalina was holding baby Agata in her arms. We chatted for a while and then Elena Navarro joined us. Catalina complimented her on how well Beatriz had carried out her duties as the Fiesta Queen and Elena said that it had been an honour for Beatriz and that the whole family was very proud of her. Beatriz would be lighting the first rocket for the fireworks later, she said. It would be a great show. In the meantime, there was another parade to get through (Beatriz and the other Fiesta Queens were at the head of that) and lots more music, food and dance.
‘I don’t know how anyone here does any work at all,’ said Saoirse after we’d found ourselves some seats in the corner of the square. ‘It’s party central the whole time.’
‘I guess it goes back to normal tomorrow,’ I said. ‘Oh, look, there’s Pep.’
He was walking over to me, accompanied by his older brother, Luis. I’d met Luis at the family dinner, although I hadn’t spoken to him very much. He was as handsome as Pep, with the same smouldering eyes and dark hair, although Luis had some strands of grey.
‘Wow,’ murmured Saoirse. ‘Another fine thing. What a family!’
I gave her ankle a kick.
We all said hello to each other, and the two men dragged over a couple of chairs to join us.
Cleo asked Pep a question about the fiesta, which he began answering in detail, while Luis asked me if everything was now OK at the Villa Naranja.
�
�It was always OK,’ I said.
‘I meant the leak in the roof.’
I smiled. ‘Hard to tell. The weather has been glorious ever since.’
‘If you need anything, anything at all, you must ask.’ Luis’s tone was polite but his voice lacked Pep’s warmth. ‘We are happy to help.’
‘Pep and your family have been really lovely to me,’ I told him. ‘I appreciate all the concern you’ve shown.’
‘We have always been friends and good neighbours to the Perez family,’ Luis said. ‘It matters to us that you are well looked after.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said.
‘And Pep is kind to you?’
‘Yes, he’s great.’ I wondered how much Luis knew about my relationship with his younger brother.
‘He does a good job with the pool?’
‘Very.’
‘And he has helped you out at other times, not just when it rained?’
‘Well . . . he’s called to the house, yes. And he drove me home after the first night of the fiesta.’
‘He is a kind-hearted boy, Pep. A little . . . impulsive sometimes, perhaps.’
Was I being overly sensitive or could I detect an edge to Luis’s voice?
‘Only in a good way,’ I told him.
‘I am glad to hear it.’
I said nothing. I felt as though Luis might be warning me as far as Pep was concerned. But what would he need to warn me about? I’d decided to have an uncomplicated relationship with the youngest Navarro boy, hadn’t I? It didn’t matter to me whether he was impulsive or not.
Yet as I danced with him later that night, I wondered how much of life is really uncomplicated. And I couldn’t help thinking that seemingly straightforward things can sometimes carry intricacies that take a long time to discover.
Chapter 18
Although I’d suggested a trip to the Arab baths for Sunday (I still hadn’t seen them, and I thought that perhaps the girls might like to do something cultural), there was a general agreement that we needed to recover from the night before, and so we didn’t make it any further than the pool. Banquo had decided that the girls were acceptable company and joined us for a while, curling up in the shade beneath my lounger while we lazed away the afternoon.
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