V.
‘You are up early, Arabella,’ my mother said as I poured some oats into boiling goat’s milk. I had already made a fire and cleaned the house. ‘Where is your brother?’
‘Playing outside.’
I told myself I would go to Zadkiel once Tommaso was fed. I reached for the wooden spoon with my left hand, my right still holding the sack of oats, and then remembered that my mother knew nothing of my healing miracle. The soldiers were in town. If she knew I was no longer a cripple, she would be sure to tell them of my increase in value. Tommaso said they would return today. I prayed I could keep up the pretence, knowing a deformed girl would be of no interest to them.
Roman soldiers were forbidden to marry during their service, but that didn’t stop them from taking up women to satisfy them during their travels. I’d heard horror stories of poor young girls kidnapped from villages and kept in battle camps as sex slaves, used and abused until their disease-riddled bodies eventually killed them. I would not succumb to such a fate.
‘Where did you get all this food?’ my mother asked, peering into the sacks of grain and the basket of vegetables. I’d placed the meat in salt to preserve it, and there was also goat’s cheese wrapped in cloth and milk in a clay bottle.
‘I bought it.’
She hadn’t yet noticed the new sandals Tommaso and I were wearing.
‘The coins I gave you would not have bought you all of this.’
‘I have a friend who gave me some meat and cheese,’ I said, keeping my eyes on the milky porridge.
‘You dirty whore! Have you been fucking and keeping the money?’
Without thinking, I swung around and slapped her hard across the face. How dare she accuse me of lowering myself to her level! What I felt for Zadkiel wasn’t her filthy lust; it was pure. Fated. Even though our love was deep, I had still refrained from giving myself to him until we chose to marry. I would never sink to such depravity, numbing my senses with wine and taking money off my neighbours’ husbands so they could empty themselves inside of me. All I wanted was to make an honest living and look after my brother—live a quiet life with a husband and children of my own. Instead, I was left picking up the pieces of my broken home. Yet I had never lashed out at anyone, and I truly hadn’t meant to hurt her.
I waited for her to cry out, or hit me back, but she just stood there, her cheek glowing red. Then she walked to her bedroom and shut the door quietly.
I was in serious trouble.
‘Arabella, Arabella! Look!’
Tommaso ran into the kitchen, nearly knocking over the two bowls of porridge I was pouring out. He thrust a small wooden horse in my face; this one had wings and had been sanded down to a smoother finish. Whoever had made it had put a lot of effort into it.
‘I have two horses now. Aethon and Pegasus. Neigh, neigh!’
Tommaso galloped out the door, hitting the knee of a soldier that was leaning against the doorframe.
‘You must be Arabella,’ he said, smiling and displaying a row of tiny teeth. He wore a dirty red tunic beneath his armour, and his helmet was tucked under his arm. I stood and wiped my hands on my dress.
‘My mother is not available,’ I said, my voice high and uneven.
He continued to lean against the doorframe, his eyes travelling from my feet, up my legs, and over my chest until they came to rest on my lips.
‘I came to see you. Your mother was right. You are young and very pretty, but she told me you were disfigured.’
I screwed up my left fist so he could see that I wasn’t what he was looking for.
‘I am. I’m a useless cripple.’
‘My name is Sabinus,’ he said, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He took my screwed-up hand in his, turned it around, and then dropped it again. ‘Why don’t we get to know each other a little better? You can still do a lot with just one hand; it’s not the only part of your body that interests me.’
‘I don’t want to,’ I mumbled, avoiding his eyes. I walked to the door and ushered my brother in from outside, handing him his bowl of porridge.
The soldier looked like he was about to leave until my mother glided into the room wearing her best dress with her hair in a long braid. She took the second bowl of porridge off me and placed it on the table before the blond man.
‘Sabinus, thank you for returning. Please, eat with us.’
She smiled at him, but when she looked in my direction her eyes were cold. I noticed her cheek was still red and blotchy. I placed a jug of water and two cups on the table, and the soldier began to slurp at his porridge, ignoring my brother staring up at him in awe.
‘Arabella, I need you to get us some bread,’ my mother said. She sat on the bench beside the soldier and rested her hand on his knee. ‘Take Tommaso with you. Sabinus and I need to talk.’
He leered at me as my mother’s hand disappeared beneath his tunic. I took the coin from her open palm and left, my brother trotting behind me. The last thing I heard as I left the house was my mother’s laughter as she led the soldier to her bedroom.
• • • • •
We had plenty of bread at home, but I was happy to be outside and away from the soldier and his intentions. I bought a small loaf and the stallholder gave me a bunch of grapes to share with my brother. We sat beneath the shade of the cypress trees, spitting out pips and watching the slaves build the amphitheatre. The Romans had taken Fiesole eighty years previously, and with them came great buildings and monuments. The townsfolk said the new amphitheatre would make Fiesole famous, but all I wanted was to get away from the crowds and be with Zadkiel. The thought of his pretty house in the woods made my chest blossom like a rose opening her petals for the sun.
I sat my brother on my knee and rested my chin on top of his head. He wasn’t a baby anymore, but his hair still smelled like wildflowers.
‘How would you like to come with me and see my friend?’ I asked. ‘We could swim in his stream and pick pears. He has baby goats. He could teach you how to feed them.’
Tommaso’s eyes lit up.
‘Could I take Aethon and Pegasus with me?’ he asked, holding out his hands and showing me the wooden horses.
I thought of the soldier in my house with the tiny-toothed leer and my mother’s hands inside his tunic. I took a deep breath. What would my punishment be for striking my mother? Hopefully Sabinus had paid her well and got her so drunk she passed out before we returned and I found out.
Too afraid to face my mother, I decided to head straight to Zadkiel’s house with Tommaso. The sun was already high in the sky, and my true love would be waiting eagerly for me. I’d told Zadkiel all about Tommaso the previous day and I was excited for them to meet, although getting to his cottage via the crumbled wall meant passing my house first. I wasn’t concerned though because I knew my mother would be too busy or drunk to notice us.
As we neared our street, I spotted a horse and cart outside our building, Mamá walking back and forth loading furniture into it. Three sacks of clothes and bedding were already piled on top of pots and pans. We had very little, and the cart was nearly full. Two men were helping her with the table and chairs.
I ran as fast as I could, dragging Tommaso behind me.
‘What is going on? Where are we going?’ I shouted.
She didn’t smile when she saw us. Instead, she lifted up my brother and placed him beside the driver of the cart. Tommaso looked down and grinned at me.
‘Do you think this horse has wings, Arabella?’ he said, reaching forward and stroking the horse’s tail.
‘I’m leaving for Rome to find your father,’ Mamá said, pulling herself up onto the cart beside my brother before nodding at the driver. ‘I’m taking Tommaso with me.’
‘No!’ I shouted up at her, pulling at her dress. ‘You can’t go!’
My brother, startled upon hearing my cries, began to sob and call out my name.
‘Leave him here. You can’t take him away from me,’ I cried.
‘You
will be too busy to worry about us, Arabella. I got a good price for you.’ She held up a small leather money pouch. ‘You’ve always been useless; at least now you can serve a purpose. I’m sure Sabinus will take good care of you as long as you do as you’re told.’
At the sound of his name, the soldier appeared in the doorway. He stood behind me and put his arms around my waist.
‘Let’s hope you fuck as well as your mother does,’ he muttered into my ear, his breath thick with the scent of what was to come. ‘You’re mine now, little girl.’
It all happened so fast. I called out to Tommaso and lurched forward, intent on pulling him away from our mother, but the soldier had too strong a hold on me. The cart pulled away, sending clouds of dust into my face. My brother was still calling out my name, his tiny hands reaching out to me like little white butterflies in a thick fog. But my mother didn’t turn back.
‘Tommaso!’ I screamed.
I attempted to run after the cart, but the soldier pulled me back, wrapping his arms back around my waist.
‘Get off me!’ I cried. ‘I don’t consent to this. I want my brother.’
As the dust cleared, I noticed two small wooden figures on the mud-caked ground. Tommaso’s little toy horses. Sabinus noticed them too and stepped on them with his heavy boots, grinding them into the dirt and reducing them to a pile of splintered shards—the same shards that were now embedded deep into my heart. I sobbed as I watched my family become a dark speck in the distance. How could my own mother have done this to me?
The soldier swung me around to face him. He grabbed my right arm and tied a red scarf tightly around my wrist.
‘This means you belong to me. The other soldiers won’t touch you unless I say they can. Your crippled hand will never be able to untie it so don’t even try. We leave for Germania in the morning, and you will be by my side throughout the journey. You will be light relief at the end of a hard day’s marching.’
I shook my head in tiny motions. I didn’t understand. I wasn’t for sale; my mother had no right to sell me off to the highest bidder like a donkey in the market. His dirty fingers began to unbutton my tunic, his goose-like teeth flashing as I attempted to swat his hand away.
‘Don’t panic, little one. We can practice tonight. I will try to be gentle.’ His hand reached into my top and cupped my breast. ‘But I can’t promise anything.’
‘As he turned toward the house, I took my chance. I pried my arm out of his grasp and ran as fast as I could in the only direction I knew. Toward my destiny.’
JOSH HADN’T WANTED to return to Tarifa. In fact, all he’d wanted to do was get back to LA and forget about Ella. But he couldn’t. She’d got under his skin and he had no idea why. It wasn’t like he was short of women in his life, but Ella was…What was it about her that drove him so crazy? She was fearless and clever and funny and completely fucked up. Did he really need to complicate his life?
But it was more than that. He knew something about Ella that he hadn’t told a soul about, something he wouldn’t even admit to himself. She’d lied to him and he hadn’t blamed her.
The only reason he was returning to Tarifa was because Billy, the location manager, had announced earlier that morning that he needed to spend the last day by Tarifa’s beach checking out the old castle and gothic weather station. Two locations he’d missed on the day he’d been ill. Of course, Josh could have stayed in his hotel and met Billy at the airport the next day, but there was a part of him that wanted to test fate. If he bumped into Ella, he would tell her the secret he’d been keeping for three years. If he didn’t, then he would forget about her. Either way, he wasn’t going to go to her hotel to search for her—he knew better than to seek out trouble.
‘I’m going back to the hotel now,’ Billy announced, slurring.
They’d just finished dinner by the castle and the sun was beginning to set, turning the little blue-and-red fisherman’s boats into cutout silhouettes against the inky water. Billy had a piece of rice stuck to his chin, and his mouth was stained red from the copious glasses of Rioja he’d drunk.
Josh tried not to grimace at Billy’s filthy face.
‘Marbella’s over an hour away. It will cost a fortune.’
‘Since when have you cared about money, Joshy? Planet Pictures are paying anyway. Come on; let’s go back to the hotel. Just you and me. We’ve hardly had any time alone.’
It wasn’t easy to mask how he felt about that suggestion. Sober Billy was bad enough, but drunk Billy was a creepy letch.
‘I might hang out here.’
‘On your own? You’re crazy! You’ll get papped and molested by teen fans.’
‘Look around you, Billy,’ Josh said, throwing his arms up. ‘No one knows who I am here. In fact, I can’t even see any women under the age of fifty, unless you count that stoned surfer chick and her boyfriend over there. I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you at the hotel in the morning.’
Billy drank the dregs of his wine and gave a small burp. ‘Maybe I’ll hang out here with you and we’ll hit the bars.’ He stood and stumbled a little, and then he put his hands on his hips and began to wiggle his behind. ‘I still have the moves. Wanna dance with me, Joshy? I bet you have fantastic rhythm.’
‘No. Definitely not. Let’s get you to the taxi rank.’
Josh left a bundle of notes on the table and allowed Billy to put his arm around his shoulders as he led him up the steep, cobbled streets to the main road. Billy was still begging him to join him, shouting out of the window, as the taxi pulled away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Josh walked back through the Moorish arch into town past the painting of a naked Jesus with far too much pubic hair and the quaint shops selling shell necklaces and crochet bikinis. He grinned. After four days in Marbella, with pervy Billy on his case and Ella on his mind, he was finally free to have a quiet drink alone and enjoy the sights.
Then he saw her.
Josh stopped and rubbed his tired face. This couldn’t be happening.
Across the narrowed cobbled road, leaning against the wall of a bar, was Ella talking to a Spanish man looming over her. Josh walked closer until he could hear their conversation. He didn’t understand Spanish, but judging by the look of desperation on the man’s tanned face, whatever he had to say to Ella was very urgent. She, on the other hand, didn’t look the slightest bit interested. In fact, she was trying to push his arm away as he leant beside her.
Josh tapped the man on the shoulder.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked.
Ella beamed up at him and ducked under the man’s arm.
‘Josh! Ha, fate. See? I knew it. I knew I’d see you again. Did you come looking for me? Or was this a conin…condinci…’ She held up her index finger at him as she struggled with the word. ‘Coincidence! S’OK. I’m fine. I’ve had a few drinks but I’m fine. I was just saying to Pablo here…’
‘Paulo,’ the Spanish man said.
‘Yes, Paulo. I was just saying that there’s no such thing as coindi…whatever. He wants to be my chef.’ She leant in closer to Josh’s ear and whispered loudly, ‘I think he wants to be more than my chef, but you know, I’m not interesada. I’m turning over a new leaf. No more random men. Nada. Not even you, Josh…and every girl in the world wants you, right?’
Paulo was already shuffling from one foot to another. Josh recognised the look of a man who’d just realised who the actor was and that he didn’t stand a chance.
‘Hasta luego, Ella,’ the Spaniard mumbled, nodding at Josh and joining his friends further down the road.
‘Who are you here with?’ Josh asked.
Ella swayed a little and then laughed. ‘No one. All my real friends are in London. But who cares? You’re here now. Come on, let’s go inside! I’ll get you a drink. You can be my friend tonight.’
‘No thanks. Look, Ella, I was just passing by and…’
‘Come on!’
She pulled him into the busy bar and clambered onto a stool, signalling the barma
n over. The seat slid from under her and Josh caught it.
‘Chodding sair. I mean, sodding chair!’
Josh helped her back up, trying not to laugh. The barman placed a margarita in front of her, but Josh moved it to one side, ordering a glass of water instead.
‘Don’t be a knob, Josh! I’m not drunk. These stools are slippery little duckers. I mean…’
‘I know what you mean.’
He couldn’t leave now, not with her in this state. He ordered himself a beer.
‘You have fans,’ she said, nodding her head to the side and making a kissing face at him.
There were a group of giggling girls standing by the pool table. He raised his bottle at them, causing a flutter of excitement. One of them screamed and started jumping up and down. Normally, he’d go over and lap up the attention, but with Ella beside him the whole fame thing felt stupid.
‘Come on, you lush, time to get you home.’
‘No way, it’s still early.’ Ella batted him away and reached for her margarita.
‘Have another drink. I am!’
‘I have to be at Malaga Airport at the crack of dawn. I’ll get you home, and then I have to go.’
‘Don’t be a wimp, Josh. Let’s do shots. It’s my birthday in two days, so legally you can’t say no. Tequila! Tequila! Tequila! Dobles.’
She banged her fists on the bar top and called the barman over by name, who dutifully lined up four shot glasses and filled them to the brim.
‘Happy birthday for Saturday, but I’m not doing tequila.’
‘Suit yourself, Mr Boring.’
Josh laughed. He couldn’t help himself. She was so…so many things. When he’d been with her on the beach the week before, there had been at least three occasions where he’d nearly kissed her. Why her of all people? And why had he told her the way he felt, the whole being drawn to her thing? That was his only rule when it came to women—don’t tell them what you’re thinking.
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