‘Why would Grandma ...’ Dani’s eyes widened. ‘Oh.’
‘Don’t you see? She let me think I was going insane with my obsession for tango but if she lived in Argentina and was the muse of a famous musician, tango would be in my blood, right?’
‘And if she is Louisa that explains why she hated tango way before you took it up.’
Iris inhaled deeply through her nostrils. ‘Yes. Tango had a hold on me I couldn’t explain and I berated myself every day for not resisting the pull. Then I found these letters that all related to a possible Argentine heritage and it finally made sense.’
‘Except she denied it.’
‘Of course she did. She’d done well to hide them for all those years.’ Iris let out a hollow laugh. ‘I guess she never expected me to go through her underwear drawer.’
Dani frowned.
‘I’m really sorry for doing what I did. I shouldn’t have left you but I was hurt and angry with your grandma. I needed to come here and find my roots. I had to understand who I was because I was useless to you otherwise.’
‘You were my mother! How could you be useless?’
A flicker of pain crossed Iris’s perfectly made-up face. ‘Please understand, my whole word turned upside down the moment I found those letters. I questioned my heritage and identity as well as my mother’s. I was a mess and I desperately needed to find out the truth. I honestly thought a short trip to Argentina would solve my dilemma. I let people think I went for a tango holiday as I didn’t want anyone to know about Stella or my heritage until I’d worked it out for myself. But the moment I arrived I got swept into the world of tango so fast my head spun. For the first time in my life, I felt like I truly belonged.’
‘So you never wanted to be a mother?’
‘Of course I did! I wanted nothing more but I was no good to myself, let alone a small child.’
‘Are you saying you did all this for me?’ Sarcasm laced Dani’s voice.
‘I would be lying if I said yes.’
‘Well, at least we have that settled.’ Dani crossed her arms, not sure how much more she could take.
‘I wanted so many things but nothing has turned out how I expected.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I need a drink.’ Iris shuffled to the cupboard and brought out two crystal glasses and a bottle of Frangelico. She grabbed some Coca-Cola from the fridge, along with ice. Returning to the table, Iris filled the glasses with ice, added the Coke and liquor and mixed the concoction with a teaspoon. ‘Here. Drink this. It’s a local favourite.’
Iris pushed a glass towards Dani, who accepted, thankful to have alcohol to temper the long, emotional day. Taking a sip, she enjoyed the quick buzz, surprised at how hazelnut could blend so well with sickly sweet Coca-Cola.
Dani held the glass to her lips and eyed her mother over the rim. ‘So?’
‘So I spent years trying to find more evidence about whether Stella could be Louisa or if I was just chasing some silly fantasy. I gave up on it a few times but it wasn’t until the authorities released the only existing photo of Louisa and Gualberto that the connection became obvious.’
‘The same photo I have?’
‘Yes. Because of the public’s outrage at the time, photos of Louisa and Roberto Vega were destroyed. People took to the streets and burnt them.’
‘That’s silly. Wouldn’t they want to keep a handful so they could identify them when they were arrested?’
‘You’ve seen how passionate Argentines are. They were outraged. A few years ago, the photos that had been locked away in archives were released in a series of articles in the national newspaper. What hurts most is I suspect Louisa was pregnant when she fled Argentina.’
‘Why?’
‘Think about it. I was born not long after Louisa left Argentina. I’ve never met my father because Stella said he was an Aussie soldier who died before I was born, and his name never appeared on the birth certificate.’
‘But the general consensus is Louisa and Roberto left separately then caught up with each other after leaving the country.’ Dani expected Iris’s determined expression to sag but her mother clenched her jaw harder.
‘My gut tells me that may not be the case. I suspect you have the same intuition that runs in our family.’
Dani readjusted her position on the chair. In a quiet voice, she said, ‘You don’t know me, Iris.’
‘I’m sorry for being so familiar. I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to be around you.’
‘I have no clues, either.’ It felt strange to be in the presence of the woman who had given birth and raised her for five years, yet not have a single idea about how to act around her. ‘You are right about the intuition.’
‘The gut is never wrong?’
‘Well, not never, but it’s definitely more right than wrong.’
‘It’s a good trait to possess.’ Ice tinkled against the crystal as Iris took another swig. ‘So, let’s just say Roberto and Louisa are my parents and if that got out, my life would be hell and I’d receive a double dose of the Argentines’ anger. I’m famous because I’m a foreigner who can dance the tango like an Argentine. I’m La Gringa Magnifica, right? How do you think they’d react if they found out at least one of my parents was Argentine? And one or both of them may have murdered this country’s greatest composer? I’d be ostracised and my reputation would be ruined. I’d also be branded a liar.’
‘But you didn’t know at the time,’ Dani said, not surprised Iris had turned the focus back on herself. ‘And you’re retired now. Why is it so important?’
‘Because I have nothing else in my life. I lost you, my mother, my husband—’
‘You could have had all of us. You could have come for me.’
‘Yes, I could have, but too much time had passed. I was afraid of making things worse. I hadn’t found my roots, and returning to Australia would have stirred a hornets’ nest.’
‘Perhaps it would have done you good to get stung,’ Dani mumbled.
‘You’re right. I was afraid. I still am.’ Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘It’s time I confronted my fears.’
‘Fear of what?’
‘Of being rejected by you.’ Iris’s voice sounded small.
‘I can’t reject you if I don’t know you. I came here, didn’t I?’
‘I appreciate you finding me and I shouldn’t be surprised you did. After all, you know something about me that others don’t— my dream for a vineyard at the foot of the Andes.’
‘I wish I knew more.’
‘I want to know more about you, too.’ Iris moved her hand across the table. It headed in Dani’s direction then Iris pulled it back and placed it on her lap. ‘Ever since I took that first tango lesson, I was engulfed in a way I couldn’t comprehend. I tried not to let it overtake me but it was like trying to stop an avalanche.
‘Dani, please know I did my best to be the person you needed, that your father needed, but I just couldn’t. Tango had a hold and it got worse when your father started dancing with me.’
‘You’re blaming him?’ It was impossible to keep the incredulity out of her tone.
‘No! Not at all. It’s just ...’ She lifted her shoulders and they fell when she sighed. ‘There was a moment, not long after we started dancing together, when everything aligned to culminate in one magical moment.’
‘Entrega.’
‘How did you—oh right, Carlos. Yes, I experienced entrega with your father and once I tasted it, I wanted more. Your father didn’t feel a thing and thought I was imagining the magic. I tried to find it again with him but that moment was lost forever, so I looked to other dancers in Australia but—’
‘You never found it, so when you arrived here in search of Louisa, you also wanted to find entrega?’
‘Yes.’ Iris hung her head. ‘It was like a drug—once I had a taste I had to have more.’
‘You never found it, did you?’
‘No. I was a fool, Dani.
I now know I only found entrega because I was with your father.’ Iris pounded the table. ‘This bloody dance is cursed. It messes with your head and makes promises it can’t deliver. Look at what happened to Louisa and Roberto. Tango tore them apart. And now you’re with someone who was one of Argentina’s best dancers and look what happened to him, the poor bugger. Bloody Cecilia.’
‘Carlos said you have taken her side.’
‘Had, not have.’
‘You’ve changed your mind?’
‘Yes.’ Iris grabbed another cigarette but Dani covered her hand.
‘You should cut down.’
Iris withdrew her hand and nodded. ‘I owe your man an apology. When he needed a friend I wasn’t there. God!’ She threw her head in her hands. ‘I’m an awful person.’
‘Don’t say that,’ Dani said, not wanting to throw ‘No you’re not’ into the equation because she hadn’t decided what she thought about Iris.
‘I’m not sure if you know, but Carlos didn’t cause the motorbike accident he and Cecilia were in.’
‘But he publicly announced he was at fault.’
‘That fool Cecilia caused it. I should have known he’d lie to protect her.’
Dani smiled. ‘He sucks at lying.’
‘Yes, just like you. Maybe that’s why you two are the perfect match.’
Heat rushed across Dani’s cheeks and she fiddled with her shirt collar.
‘Well, he lied well enough to fool the media. And you,’ said Dani, finding a whole new level of compassion for Carlos. ‘I don’t get why he hates the media so much when he lied to them.’
‘For years the media had clamoured for interviews, unable to get enough of tango’s pretty boy. His talent captivated everyone and he could do no wrong.’
‘Until the accident.’
‘Exactly,’ said Iris. ‘After his fictitious admission, they turned on him like a pack of rabid dogs and invented all kinds of stories to drive him and Cecilia apart. They crucified him for destroying Argentina’s most famous tango couple. You need to understand, tango is in our blood, and if anyone dares mess with our beloved performers, well ... What hurts most is I chose to believe him when he was only protecting the little tramp. Especially after she ran away and he—’
‘Found out she was pregnant?’ It felt like someone had shoved a wad of cotton wool in her mouth. ‘I imagine he took the blame because people lash out at whoever caused the accident.’
‘You’ve got it in one.’
‘And he didn’t want her to suffer at the hands of the media. That was chivalrous, but stupid.’
‘Most definitely. Cecilia had Carlos, me, and the whole nation under a spell. She was the golden girl of their generation. It was only after she disappeared that I discovered exactly what kind of person she was.’ Iris breathed heavily through her nostrils. ‘Now you’ve found me, you need to know something.’
‘Whenever someone says that it’s never good.’
‘You’re right. I’m worried Diego’s on to me. I tried to keep this Canziani stuff away from him but he’s possessive and tracks my every move. I caught him snooping in my desk at our apartment but I didn’t have anything written down. At that point it was a bunch of suppositions rattling around my brain.’
‘He’s not seen any of this?’ Dani pointed at the manila folders.
‘No. But I’d spent so much time trying to gather my own evidence he thought I was having an affair. I told him I was doing research for a book I was writing but he didn’t buy it. He’s a doom-and-gloom type, always expecting the worst to happen, so it does.’
‘Yeah, I’m aware of that sort.’ Adam. Wow, she hadn’t thought about him for a while and looky here, no emotions or self-esteem spiralling into the abyss. Things are looking up, eh, McKenna? ‘He asked me to give you a letter.’ Dani leant over and scrounged in her handbag.
‘Save yourself the trouble. I won’t read it. He’ll have written a heap of romantic crap. The stupid bastard thinks he can gamble every cent, sleep with any woman he wants, then apologise with a soppy love letter. His gambling is the reason I didn’t tell him about the Canziani case.’
‘Why?’
‘Because of the reward. Five million dollars is a helluva lot of plata, especially to a destitute music director who threw away the dance company’s money on stupid horse races. When did you last see him?’
‘Yesterday. He was preparing for a show then heading to the country for a few days.’
‘More than likely he was avoiding a bookie. Unbelievable. He does what he wants because he’s a genius. I also didn’t tell him about the Canziani case because I feared he’d find out about my possible heritage.’
Silence reigned once more, and the women looked everywhere but at each other. Iris shifted forwards. ‘I’m glad you haven’t mentioned anything about Stella to Carlos.’
‘Why would I? Up until tonight I wasn’t so sure myself.’
‘You shouldn’t trust him.’
‘That’s lovely coming from someone he considered as a second mother.’
‘I am fond of him—still—but we’re talking about Argentina’s biggest murder mystery here. When it comes to the Canziani case, no one can be trusted. Not even your Carlos.’
‘You’re wrong about him.’ Dani pushed back from the table, her chair scraping along the floor.
‘I’m just saying, the Canziani case tends to bring out the worst in everyone. The Argentines are very protective of their own.’
‘It doesn’t mean Carlos would turn.’
‘Maybe not. Just be careful. Please.’ Iris cleared her throat. ‘He never looked at Cecilia the way he looks at you. I know I haven’t earned the right to tell you what to do, but please watch out for yourself. This damn dance messes with everyone in our family.’ Dani opened her mouth, but Iris put up her hand. ‘I know, I sound like Stella. It took me too many years to realise her words were true.’
‘Why is it so important to know if Stella and Louisa are the same person? If they are, she could be arrested and put on trial. You don’t hate her, do you?’
Vehemently shaking her head, Iris said, ‘Absolutely not. In fact, the more I learn about Louisa’s history, the more I empathise with her.’
‘The last time I spoke to Stella, I asked if she’d ever heard of Eduardo Canziani.’
Iris’s eyes grew wide. ‘Really? What did she say?’
‘She got pissy and asked why I would want to cover a dead composer’s story rather than some up-and-coming musician. She told me not to call her again until I was in New York.’ Dani deliberately left out the part where Stella slammed Iris.
‘This is why I never contacted her. Can you imagine how she’d react if I called after all these years and asked her if she was once a muse for a famous tango composer and, oh, by the way, did she kill him?’
Perhaps it was a combination of the late hour and her emotions dipping and swirling, but Dani found Iris’s question hilarious. She tried to contain the giggle but it bubbled up and burst out in a long, loud belly laugh.
Iris stared at her daughter, her thin brows drawn together in a frown. Her lips twitched and, within moments, Iris joined Dani in slapping the table, their laughter punctuated by the odd snort. The sun crept from behind the mountains, signalling a new day and, hopefully, a bright new future.
CHAPTER
22
1953 – Louisa
Clouds of dust flew behind the cart as the horse sped along the narrow pot-holed road lined with palm trees and tall grass. Louisa gripped the wooden rail, her legs dangling over gravel. She used her shoulder to nudge away a bag of cashew nuts that threatened to push her from the back of the cart and onto the sharp stones. The stench of horse manure seeped into her every pore and the late afternoon sun seared her skin, the thick layer of dirt offering little protection from its fierce rays. Wrapping her fingers tightly around the wooden rail, Louisa closed her eyes and told herself this ordeal would be worth it in the end.
For five weeks
she’d travelled overland through Uruguay and Brazil, mostly using local buses. She’d journeyed across swamplands, mountains and along Brazil’s pristine coast. Countless times she’d wanted to jump off the bus, run across the smooth sand and immerse her weary body in the crystal clear waters of the Atlantic Ocean but she had to continue her journey, because each day that passed meant she had less chance of finding Roberto.
Sighing heavily, she reflected on how much had changed in a matter of weeks. She’d slid from the upper echelon of Argentine society to the hard, rocky ground, an anonymous pauper. With a bruised ego and heart, she could easily slink into the nearest hole and wither in self-pity, but she owed it to herself—and Roberto— to keep going. Once again, life had spun a suffocating cloud of turmoil and she’d ended up displaced, alone in a foreign country with no one to turn to. At least this time she had finances to keep her going, even if it was money Héctor had given her. Without that, she would be stuck in Montevideo earning a pittance, doing things she’d rather not think about.
She pictured the wad of cash rolled tightly in her stocking and grimaced. Even though she’d wanted to throw it back at Héctor, she’d needed it. Shaking her head, Louisa tried to dispel the images of her last meeting with the man she’d once considered a close friend. She’d been set to leave Montevideo, heartbroken that Roberto hadn’t arrived, when Héctor had appeared. She had no idea how he’d travelled from Paraguay to Uruguay so quickly, or whether he’d paid the captain to tell her he’d gone to Paraguay to throw her off track. Héctor had tried to convince Louisa that Roberto had chosen not to come, but in the depths of her heart, she didn’t believe a word. She’d cast her mind back to the conversation they’d had at Roberto’s apartment and the words that had spilled from Héctor’s lips: But alas, the love of my life has chosen another. Maybe one day I will steal her out from under your nose. Her worst fears were realised when Héctor had pinned her against the wall, his hot, slimy mouth next to her ear, making threats about turning her in unless she succumbed to his wishes. She remembered how he’d doubled over and groaned in agony after she’d given him a swift knee to the groin before she’d fled.
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