‘Nearly eight hundred kilometres,’ said Catalina with a snort. ‘He travelled a long way to evade his responsibilities.’
As Elena joined us there was a brief conversation about the fact that women were always left to look after the messes that men made, a conversation I happily participated in. But without the bitterness I would have felt even a couple of weeks ago. It was good to feel better. It really was.
Beatriz then joined us, looking as beautiful as ever, accompanied by an elderly woman, dressed in black.
‘This is my grandmother,’ she said. ‘Rosario.’
I shook hands with the older woman, who took herself off to sit in the shade of a palm tree.
‘Where’s Luis?’ I asked Beatriz.
‘He will be here soon,’ she said. ‘He has gone to – oh, abuela, are you all right?’
Her grandmother had dropped a glass, and everyone rushed forward both to assure themselves that she was OK and to clear up the mess. Rosario herself was muttering under her breath, clearly unhurt but annoyed.
‘She hates a fuss,’ Elena told me as Beatriz brought a new glass for her grandmother. ‘She’s eighty-eight and her eyesight is failing – but she’s as sharp as a tack and the person who holds the whole family together. She lived with Catalina for a while in her seventies but she moved in with us a few years ago. She wasn’t at the last lunch because she had to spend a couple of days in hospital. But she’s fine now.’
‘She lived with Catalina?’ I glanced at the younger woman in surprise. ‘Is she related to you too?’
‘My cousin,’ said Elena.
‘Oh!’ I was surprised. ‘Then Max and I are the only non-family members here.’
‘But you are practically family now, Juno.’ Elena grinned. ‘You’re living in Doña Carmen’s house. And we were related too, although it’s not the strongest link. My grand-aunt was the second wife of Ana’s grand-uncle.’
‘Right.’ I tried to get it all clear in my head.
‘Which means I’m the only real outsider,’ said Max. ‘So thank you for including me in the invitation.’
‘You are welcome, of course,’ said Elena. ‘We have been concerned for Juno, living alone. I am glad that another friend of hers has come to stay.’
‘Oh, he’s not . . .’ I broke off. It would be wrong to say that Max wasn’t a friend. He wasn’t, of course. But I didn’t want to insult him. Besides, he’d become – well, if not a friend, someone I liked.
‘I’m just an acquaintance,’ said Max. ‘I wasn’t staying with Juno. I was at La Higuera.’
Elena’s glance flickered between us.
‘Well, you are very welcome, in any event,’ she said. ‘And—’ She broke off and her eyes lit up. Then she waved.
Max and I turned. Two men had walked around the side of the house.
One of them was Luis.
The other was Pep.
‘Pep!’ I looked at him in astonishment. ‘When we were talking last night you didn’t say you’d be back today.’
‘Was going to. Then thought better to make it surprise for you,’ he said as he stepped forward to kiss me on the cheek.
‘It’s lovely to see you.’ I was very conscious of Max standing beside me.
‘I come back from Mallorca this morning,’ said Pep. ‘Luis collects me at the airport. Early flight.’
Pep turned towards Max, who was looking very foreign in his pink top and chinos compared with the Navarro brothers’ crisp white shirts and dark trousers. I introduced them.
‘Luis tells me . . . told me . . . you have friend to stay?’ Pep looked at me and then at Max again.
‘Staying at the hotel. And just an acquaintance,’ repeated Max. His words made me wince.
‘An acquaintance is not a friend?’ asked Pep. ‘Is like startled and frightened?’
I smiled. ‘You remember your English lessons.’
‘You teach me well,’ he said.
‘You’re giving him English lessons?’ asked Max.
I shook my head.
‘Pep has been practising his English with me,’ I said. ‘But only when he calls to the house. He . . . he . . . cleans the pool and has done other things for me.’
I sensed Max’s thoughtful look at me but I kept my eyes firmly fixed on Pep and Luis.
And then our awkward tableau was broken up by José asking if Pep and Luis wanted beer, and grandmother Rosario requesting a glass of wine, and Beatriz putting an enormous bowl of mixed salad on the table.
Elena then told us to sit down. I found myself sitting between Max and Pep, with Luis opposite me and Beatriz beside him. There was a general hubbub of chat, mostly in Spanish, before Elena disappeared into the kitchen and returned with large plates of enormous prawns and mussels cooked in garlic.
The Navarro family divvied them up. I stuck with the prawns, but, despite his previous comments about mussels, Max piled his plate with everything. He also helped himself to some of the crusty bread on offer before then asking Luis about the bodega.
‘Juno has told me a lot about it,’ he said. ‘It must be very interesting to work in a family business.’
Luis began to explain something about winemaking. I caught Pep’s eyes as he looked at me across the table and then stifled a grin as I felt his bare foot graze my leg beneath the table. He winked at me and I nearly choked on my garlicky prawn.
‘Did you enjoy your time in Mallorca?’ I asked him.
‘It is always fun to work on the boats with my aunt,’ he replied. ‘But I missed you and I wanted to come home.’
Once again, I sensed Max shooting a look in my direction. Once again, I studiously ignored it.
‘I’m sure being on a boat is better fun than cleaning a pool,’ I said to Pep.
‘But I am not always cleaning the pool,’ he reminded me.
I didn’t say a word.
On the other side of me, Max was engaged in a conversation about fermentation of grapes with Luis, but I couldn’t help feeling he was also listening to me and Pep. I got the impression Luis was listening in too. I wracked my brains to think of something to say to Pep that wasn’t about his visits to the Villa Naranja, but I couldn’t think of a single thing.
‘What about the oranges?’ The question popped into my head, and it was Luis who looked at me in surprise. ‘When are they harvested?’ I asked. ‘You’ve been talking about grapes but the trees in the Villa Naranja are laden with oranges. My friend told me that a neighbour picked them. When?’
‘Usually between October and March,’ replied Luis. ‘The longer they are on the tree, the sweeter they become.’
Rosario, the grandmother, said something in Spanish, and Beatriz translated.
‘She remembers the orange harvest when she was young,’ she said. ‘Men doing the picking, and she and her sisters bringing them water.’
The old woman said something else. Beatriz grinned.
‘They wore big sombreros,’ she said. ‘Made of straw. They still do,’ she added. ‘Not the type you see in Mexico. Just big enough to shade you properly.’
‘I love the idea of being able to pick an orange off a tree every morning for breakfast,’ said Max. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s ever going to happen in my garden. Well, it’s more of a patio, really. And it’s too cold and shady.’
‘Last year there was snow,’ said Miguel. ‘The first snow in many, many years. I have photographs of the orange trees covered in it. And, of course, it was a worry for the grapes too.’
Suddenly the discussion turned to the weather. I thought it was funny that people in a country with a long, hot summer would complain about the weather just as much as the Irish, but they all had something to say. Meantime, Pep continued to play footsie with me under the table, which caused me to stifle occasional giggles. I caught Luis looking knowingly at me from time to time and remembered Max’s words. That Luis fancied me. But he didn’t. The only person Luis cared about was his brother.
It was Catalina who asked Max
to tell them a little more about himself. He nodded, and began to speak slowly about his work, making sure that everyone understood him.
‘It is good, then, what you do,’ said Catalina. ‘Is not just selling things to people.’
‘Sometimes it is,’ Max admitted. ‘Our agency isn’t an advertising agency but we are selling ideas.’ He grinned. ‘We’ve done projects for the Spanish Tourist Board. Mostly to raise awareness of Spanish food and wines.’
‘Really?’ Miguel looked interested.
‘You can check them online.’ Max told him the link. ‘I hope they sent some business your way.’
‘I hope so too.’
Suddenly, everyone was looking at Max with a greater warmth than before.
Even Pep.
It was Max who eventually told me that he should leave.
‘If you don’t mind, I’d love to have a shower and change my shirt,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise how hot it would be today.’
‘Of course.’ I looked at my watch, shocked to see that we’d spent nearly five hours at the Navarros’. The time had passed quickly, even though there had been some uncomfortable moments when either Luis or Pep made an ambiguous comment about my stay at the Villa Naranja, and I wondered what Max was thinking of me.
It was as I was kissing Catalina goodbye that she whispered into my ear that she was pregnant.
I looked at her in pleased surprise.
‘I have not told anyone yet,’ she murmured. ‘But I wanted you to know, because you said you might be going back to Ireland soon and I thought it would be nice to tell you. Also,’ she added, ‘it proves that Magda is right. It is not the only thing she is right about.’
‘What d’you mean?’ We were slightly apart from the rest of the gathering as she glanced towards Max, who was shaking hands with Miguel.
‘She promised you a man,’ said Catalina. ‘You did not believe her. But there is a man for you here, no?’ Her eyes flickered towards Max again.
‘Him?’ I shook my head. ‘Like he said earlier, he’s an acquaintance.’
‘Whatever you say.’ She smiled at me. ‘But I think you will be the first woman to break Pep Navarro’s heart.’
I shook my head again.
I was the one who got her heart broken. I’d never broken one myself. And I never would.
‘It really is a different life,’ said Max when we got back to the Villa Naranja. ‘And you seem to have embraced it pretty thoroughly.’
‘I’m fairly sure we’re seeing it through rose-tinted glasses,’ I told him. ‘Everyone’s being really nice to me because I’m living in a haunted house on my own.’
‘Do they believe it’s haunted?’ asked Max. ‘Do you? Really?’
I shook my head. ‘No. But the Navarros have rather taken me under their wing, and Ana Perez, the owner of the house, has been very nice to me too.’
‘I’m not surprised, after all the work you’ve done. It’s a complete renovation.’
‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’ I demanded. ‘I varnished the shutters, tidied the garden and did a bit of painting, that’s all.’
He laughed. ‘It’d take me months to do all that. You did it in a few weeks. You’re a complete live wire.’
‘I can’t help it,’ I admitted. ‘I’m hopeless at doing nothing.’
‘I can see why Brad fell for you.’
I stared at him.
‘You’re his kind of girl,’ said Max. ‘He always loved intelligent, active women.’
‘But Alessandra was intelligent,’ I said. ‘So why did he cheat on her?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Max. ‘I can only say that Brad was a man who liked new things all the time. He’d been with Alessandra for more than five years. Maybe . . .’ He sighed. ‘I hate to say this about my own brother, but maybe he was never cut out for monogamy. He loved her and he loved Dylan. But he also loved excitement.’
‘And I provided that.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Max.
‘You don’t need to apologise for him,’ I said. ‘You’re not responsible for his behaviour.’
‘I can’t help thinking that maybe I enabled him a little.’ Max rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I told you I wasn’t bothered when he asked Alessandra out, even though she’d come to the event with me, but I was, a bit. I never said anything because Brad . . . well, Brad always took what he wanted. He did it in the nicest of ways. He made you feel that he was doing you a favour. But in the end he was the kind of guy who got his own way. And I never really stopped him. Maybe if I had, things would’ve ended up differently.’
‘And maybe if I’d asked more questions, I would’ve known he was cheating on me.’ I shrugged. ‘We can’t blame ourselves, Max. He was the one who cheated. He was the one in the wrong.’
‘You’re a strong woman, Juno Ryan,’ said Max.
‘Have you forgotten you were showering me with paper napkins to mop up my tears at La Higuera?’ I asked. ‘I’m not strong at all. But I’m not going to live the rest of my life feeling guilty. I did when I heard about everything, at first. And then I came here and I had time to think, and Ana told me the history of the house and what had happened here. I realised that there will always be terrible things happening in the world. Some are big and dramatic and affect everyone. Some are small and only affect ourselves. But they can be equally devastating. I was devastated for a long time. I’m over it. Over him. Over everything.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Max. ‘Maybe living here is good for you. Maybe you should stay.’
‘It’s a lovely idea but a few months in the summer isn’t the same as living in a place forever.’
‘I’m sure they’ll all miss you when you go,’ said Max. ‘You seemed to be very in with the Navarros. Luis and Pep particularly. Which is an interesting situation, don’t you think?’
I looked him straight in the eye.
‘I’m just a passing paragraph in their lives,’ I said. ‘And although Pep, in particular, has been very nice to me, he has a future mapped out and I’m not part of it.’
‘Don’t you want to be?’
‘I had a similar conversation to this with my mother,’ I said irritably. ‘I don’t need to be part of any man’s future. I just need a future of my own.’
‘Are you always this self-sufficient?’ he asked. ‘Always this practical?’
‘Except for brief moments when I fall for married men and believe in ghosts – yes,’ I said.
‘Like I said, you’re strong.’ Max smiled. ‘But it’s nice that even strong women cry sometimes.’
I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. I was glad that Max Hollander thought I was strong and self-sufficient and practical. That’s exactly how I liked to think of myself. But, quite unexpectedly, all of the grief and hurt in the aftermath of the earthquake came back to me. And I didn’t feel strong at all.
‘Have I upset you?’ Max was looking at me with concern. ‘God, Juno, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
‘I’m fine,’ I said as I turned away from him. ‘Absolutely fine. Look, just go and have your shower, OK?’
He went upstairs and I went outside. I didn’t know why I was feeling so rattled. I thought I’d put everything to do with Brad McIntyre in a box and sealed it shut. But some of the feelings still leaked out. The feeling of contentment I’d had when I thought he loved me. And the feeling of utter devastation when I realised I’d been fooled. And even though I was better, I’d never forget. And I’d never trust anyone with my heart ever again.
I walked around the garden. There was still no sign of Banquo, although his food bowl was empty. I refilled it, but I was thinking I’d have to put him on a diet. He was eating me out of house and home and getting fatter by the day. Although I kept an eye out for him as I strolled around the garden, he didn’t appear. I wondered if, despite him having allowed Max to pet him, he was put out by his arrival.
Twenty minutes later, Max came downstairs again. His fair hair was still damp f
rom the shower, and he smelled of soap and a citrusy cologne. He was wearing casual trousers, a white shirt and navy jacket and suddenly looked more like a businessman than a tourist.
‘It was good to have met you,’ he said with a hint of formality. ‘I truly am sorry about the circumstances.’
‘Me, too.’
‘Thanks for your hospitality the last couple of days.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘And thanks for being . . . well, just thanks.’
‘Thank you for coming,’ I said. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you, either.’
‘No. But you made it . . . not as bad as I thought.’ He took a deep breath and held out his hand. ‘Goodbye, Juno.’
‘I hope everything goes well for Dylan,’ I said as we shook hands. ‘That he gets better soon. That it all works out.’
‘Thanks,’ said Max. He picked up his bag and the car keys.
I took the fob for the gate and followed him outside.
He put his stuff in the boot and got into the driver’s seat. He started the car and then put directions to the airport into the satnav.
‘Safe flight,’ I said.
‘Thank you.’
He looked at me for a moment and I thought he was going to say something else. But then he put the car into gear and drove forward.
I opened the gate.
And he was gone.
Chapter 28
Banquo still hadn’t returned the next day. But as it, and the days following, were suffocatingly hot, I thought perhaps he’d found a cooler spot and was staying put, for which I couldn’t blame him. According to my weather app, temperatures were in the high thirties (or 98º Fahrenheit, the app helpfully told me) and were likely to stay that way for another couple of days. I wasn’t sure I could cope. It was as stifling in the shade as in the full sun, and even a morning dip in the pool was a very temporary respite from the cauldron. I was sweating again before I’d even towelled myself dry.
I brought an old electric fan to the patio and tried sitting outside, but it was still unbearable. So I returned to the house and switched on the air con in the living room. It was the first time in my life I’d ever been forced indoors because of the heat. As the air con slowly chuntered into life, I wondered how on earth people had managed when this sort of weather arrived in the days before air conditioning. The women especially would’ve struggled with their long, heavy dresses. It was no wonder they fainted all the time! I was wearing my flimsiest top and my shortest shorts – and I was still melting.
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