Virginity Despoiled

by Charles Brett

  If she had been nervous in approaching him to see if she could use of his OIM this year, Soledad had been more nervous today, when she proposed he take her olives in future to produce his top grade oils for sale. She would be happy to accept a sliver of his sales income if it kept her land and groves intact for her successors.

  Enrique had reached far beyond her expectations, by explaining how he and María had talked of expanding production. But they did not have the resources to buy more land. Planting more Super High Density Groves would itself challenge their financial reserves, if any were left after this dreadful year.

  He acclaimed her suggestion that they combine to produce oil once she'd nurtured her groves. Enrique had gone further. Besides being more generous in sharing profits from selling EVOO than she expected he asked Soledad to supervise the groves that he didn't intend turning into Super High Density ones. Their lands were adjacent in places. What he needed was to focus on the Super High Density ones.

  A sense of delight permeated Soledad. She wasn't useless yet. She had a future. She would enjoy shepherding Enrique's trees and nurturing his burgeoning relationship with María. The latter was already in control. Enrique would need support.

  Soledad lit the fire in her salon. Olive wood, of course; it, was completing its life cycle. A year earlier she was unsure if she would be around, in business or body. Now she possessed renewed purpose, thanks to Enrique. She marvelled at her good fortune occurring in a year ruining so many.

  Inma and Lili: Madrid

  Lili had suggested meeting at Inma's office in Madrid. Inma was doubtful. After Yuste, and the excitements of the week in Úbeda, when Kjersti blew the lid off the cause of the infestation, her office was too impersonal. A restaurante didn't feel right either. Her piso would suffice.

  She wasn't sure what Lili wanted. Irrespective, she had news for Lili. The insurers had made decisions yesterday. Inma had learnt only this morning.

  What should she wear? With Lili this was always a problem. 'Keep it simple, like normal; you can't go wrong,' echoed round and round in her head. She pulled out jeans and a man's black shirt. On a whim she added a brilliant blue scarf. Naked before the mirror she glorified in her form. She was in better shape now than for a long while, possibly even better than before setting out for Tel Aviv and her subsequent release from Opus.

  She dressed. The past weeks had done wonders. Her endorphins gloated on their own high. It was a pity the business wasn't in such fine shape. Her olive insurance initiative lay in tatters. They wouldn't make any money.

  Ana was in retreat. She wasn't explaining why. Inma detected an imminent decision. Could it be about Davide? Possibly, though Inma's impression was Ana was past Davide. God knew it had taken long enough. Inma had not heard from him since his call to warn Ana about Toomas and Reelika. It might even be about Toomas, she supposed. Unlikely. Ana's generosity towards María and Enrique was admirable, if not reciprocated by María.

  Ana had said nothing about the inheritance. By itself, this laid grounds for suspicion. Had Ana decided not to claim and was now regretting it? A distinct possibility.

  As she waited, Inma agonised about how to handle Lili. They had had minimal personal contact since Úbeda. Was this deliberate on Lili's part? Ana had casually passed on Kjersti's catty suspicion Lili might be sexless or possibly gay without recognising it. What would Inma do if Lili was straight or the former? 'Get on with life,' came the voiceless command from within.

  She tried sitting still, reading, listening to music, watching the news. She prowled. Inma felt caged. She should have insisted on a restaurante.

  Her bell chimed. Por fin. She welcomed Lili. Both were on edge. Inma recognised the indicators in herself. They were visible in Lili.

  "Besides being good to see you, you have a purpose?"

  Inma winced. She sounded like a business robot. Lili was oblivious.

  "I'm going to leave Úbeda," she'd responded.

  "Because of Enrique and María?"

  "That's one reason. They don't want me around. More to the point, María doesn't. I can't endure more of their wooing and cooing. Plus I'm through with olives and olive oil. Ten years was enough. I failed."

  "What about all you ploughed in? You can't walk away!"

  "Enrique continues to be reasonable. There's an irony here. With his share of the OIM earnings, which María splits with him, he proposes to repay me whatever he can, spread over several years."

  "Does María know?"

  "She advocated it. Probably to hasten my absence."

  "It's not a bad offer."

  "It isn't. I've accepted. I'll bow out from Úbeda in the next month, once I've found somewhere in Madrid. One of my tasks this visit is to find a place to live and then work."

  This disoriented Inma. Lili in Madrid? What might this portend? Should she offer her the spare room? A gut feeling said not to. Was this stupidity? Questions crowded in.

  "What I came to ask was, do you have a place for me in your business, alongside Ana?"

  Already perilously perched on the edge of her most comfortable sofa Inma managed the unthinkable. She slid onto the floor, incredulous. Was Lili asking for a job or a partnership? Whichever, it shook her. More questions. How should she react? What were the implications? Inma chose cowardice.

  "I'll need to talk with Ana."

  "Of course."

  "We must also complete the picture for you about the insurance and re-insurance."

  "You mean my losses might inhibit me joining you."

  "Not exactly. There've been developments."

  Lili's slender frame collapsed. Despite Inma's attempted reassurances over the past months, this was her weakness. It hovered like a guillotine awaiting its next customer.

  "Listen, Lili: it's good news. In simple terms the insurers can't work out if there's a liability or not. It was beyond Ana and us. They've had the same challenge."

  "With what result?"

  "You'll laugh when I'm allowed to tell you, though it won't be amusing for some."

  "Tell me. Please!"

  "I can't tell you the details until they're published. What I am able to say is you're off the hook."

  "Are you certain? Can I believe it?"

  "You can. You'll have formal confirmation within a month."

  Lili's composure began to revive. She sat inarticulate, helpless. Inma was drawn again to how fragility became Lili. She had only seen her like this once before, asleep in the chair in Yuste.

  "The insurers, when they announce their resolution, would eliminate any external impediment to your joining the business."

  "Does that mean I can?"

  "Not so fast. Ana has a say. She's my partner."

  Inma became diffident. Lili could not avoid noticing the change.

  "There's something else I want to talk about. It's personal."

  Lili's nerves returned. This wasn't the imperious Inma of five minutes earlier. She'd lost her confidence. How could this be? What was Inma going to raise now?

  Enrique and María: Úbeda

  María was over the moon. Kjersti had done her proud. The description of her Olive Inspection Machines, with detailed photos and diagrams, had drawn international attention. She was happy to be the focus of attention. Spending time with visitors, now that her latest OIM was working well and needed little from her, was a pleasure though she could imagine it could become a bore if it lasted too long. Carpe diem.

  A second unexpected positive came with the stream of invitations from all over Andalucía begging her to assist in building OIMs. She charged for this. Her time was precious. Yet, mindful of Enrique's fear of being accused of gouging, she selected a super-high consulting rate but charged only 20 per cent of this to the afflicted who were assembling OIMs to deal with this year's pestilence.

  Her tactic was proving brilliant and already paying dividends. Money was rolling in, which she was scrupulous to share with Enrique so he could buy-out Lili. More important was the prospect of internation
al assignments at her full exorbitant rate, with expenses added. Free holidays for her and Enrique.

  Enrique was less happy about all the fuss. He busied himself in producing EVOO from his own groves and Soledad's. If she wanted to find him he was in one of the two mills or tasting samples before bottling.

  Lili still looked after the marketing of whatever they produced this season. To give Lili her due, she was adept at extracting good prices, notably from the Italians.

  In most ways, all was as María had dreamed. She was with Enrique. They belonged together. It was what she had planned in her teenage imagination, never thinking it would take three decades and a failed husband to achieve. Perhaps her own desperation was making her too insistent. She had, in the nicest way, refused a place in Enrique's bed. When he had suggested her bed, albeit in his house, she had been amused but declined.

  The trouble was her internal conflict. One part wanted him to propose, which he had not. If he did she would delight in dropping all objections. She couldn't wait for the day, if it ever came.

  But there was a darker side. Juan, her ex, had brutalised María and her apprehensions wouldn't disappear. It also bothered her that Enrique might think she was playing games. Kjersti had even taken her aside to warn her not to overdo it or she could lose all. The challenge was Enrique was so malleable. In every way she could measure he worshipped her and did what she wanted. It was great for her ego. She wasn't sure it was good long-term, as Kjersti had pointed out.

  Her solution was, like Enrique's, to work hard in order to avoid thinking about the implications and practicalities. Hyper-busy during the day, her fears faded until the long hours of night, like now, when they flooded back. Alone in her bed, she flip-flopped between fear and desire. Tonight was no different, except Kjersti's words floated into a clearer focus. What should she do?

  María heard steps. Unusual. Enrique knocked on the door, meek as always, and asked to come in. She agreed. He sat on the bed.

  "This can't go on. Sorry."

  She gasped. Enrique taking an initiative? It wasn't conceivable.

  He continued by lifting the bed clothes and climbing in beside her.

  "I won't do anything but I do need to be beside you."

  He enticed her to him. She resisted a moment before accepting. Their pleasure in proximity grew. It did not take the whole night for the ghost of Juan's viciousness to dispel and produce not just lovers but a proposal. María accepted on the spot.

  Ana: Madrid

  Ana sipped her café con leche. The meeting with Señor Delafuente complete, she had more decisions to make. For the moment these appeared manageable. According to Señor Delafuente Ana had several many-times-removed cousins along the Spanish/Portuguese border. As he'd predicted, the existence of a title had shaped how they'd resolved the inheritance. Her new cousins evinced no interest in the Valenciano properties.

  She would receive these, most of the liquid assets, a chalet outside Madrid and a piso in Alicante. Added to this was a library whose books, Señor Delafuente hinted, might include gems. Where she would put these was one of those decisions to be made.

  For their part her senior cousin-much-removed would assume the title of Marques and take possession of the majority of the properties in the centre and west of Spain. All in all, Señor Delafuente opined, Ana had much the better financial outcome, which would keep her comfortable for life.

  She thanked him and happily transferred the remainder of La Abuela's passbook monies. They had been well spent. He had been informative as well as courteous in his dealings. After her now habitual hug and kiss, which always brought his appreciation, she left him to find the café she presently occupied.

  If transplanting the library was one decision, the next would be about the chalet and piso. She would continue to rent out the former. Checking the map on her phone, the distance from Alicante to the fincas beneath the Sierra de Mariola was about seventy kilometres. She might rent out the piso too. The income would be valuable. But it might come in useful as a bolt hole. Much would depend on whether either of the fincas possessed a liveable house, or one which could become liveable.

  Ana reflected. She was again building castles in the air. She had visited the Sierra de Mariola once, ten days before. It was far from Madrid and she hadn't been able to enter the fincas, not yet knowing for sure whether she would become their owner. Yet the vistas appealed to her and she had managed to buy some EVOO, made from Blanquetas, which surely could be improved upon.

  Whether she could live by herself cut off from civilisation was a different proposition. Maybe she should transport the library there to occupy her in the long evenings when she was not growing exquisite olives for oil to compete with Enrique. She snorted at still more fantasy creation.

  Next on her mental list was Inma. She hadn't raised the subject but, now the fincas would become hers and with financial independence assured, the charms of working with Inma were evaporating. The subject was fun but Ana knew she did not possess the love for the cut and thrust Inma required. Inma possessed it. In finance so did Lili. Ana likened herself more to Enrique.

  Having experienced the rough and tumble of high insurance Ana was ready to get out. Telling Inma would be tricky. She was certain her cousin would object. Balancing this was the hope, in the background, she and Inma could return to a more personal, less business-dominated relationship. It could be no more than a hope. She resigned herself to a difficult conversation to be initiated sooner rather than later. What else was there? A lot. But Ana knew where she was headed.

  She walked home thinking how satisfactory the outcome of the insurance and reinsurance was. How it had been arrived at she didn't know. Neither did Inma. But it was good for Enrique and Lili. She was pleased for their business, though Lili's future involvement must be in question with La Reina María demonstrably wearing Enrique's trousers, not that he was heard objecting.

  Another issue was Kjersti. The blonde Norwegian had alienated almost everybody in Úbeda with her pre-emption. Her only supporters were María, who adored the attention associated with her Olive Inspection Machines, and herself. Kjersti had written a witty and sympathetic piece about a local nerd come-good in terrible times. Ana was sure María failed to hear the ironic tone, just as she was sure Enrique did. He'd kept quiet. Anyhow, María's name was everywhere and the designs for her invention and software were selling like mad. That's what she cared about.

  The last time she and Enrique had spoken María was proposing to give away the physical design and make money from the software and consulting. Hard she was, a lady possessed of a sound commercial nose.

  When Kjersti and Ana left for Madrid, Kjersti had remarked on the palpable relief signals emanating from Úbeda. Kjersti wasn't offended. This was the mistake most people made about her. Kjersti was hard-driving, focused and relentless, but not ill-intentioned. She bore little or no malice and just moved on. Ana liked this. It was refreshing.

  In the car she'd shared some of her hopes about the inheritance. Kjersti wanted to know more about it. The whole story about her mother's mother and the Civil War tumbled out. Kjersti was riveted. For a while Ana regretted having told her anything. She feared Kjersti would want to write another story.

  In this she was correct. Kjersti wrote up a first draft but showed it to Ana in advance. Expecting the worst, and remembering Kjersti's gentle irony with María, Ana read it in trepidation. To her surprise she found Kjersti capable of delicacy. She avoided names and, combined with an imaginative use of simile, communicated an accurate representation. It was not Ana's story per se, but it was close enough to transmit verisimilitude. To her embarrassment she had wept at the end.

  Ana asked Kjersti what she would do with it. Kjersti hadn't been sure. It needed general verification and afterwards she thought to submit it to a literary magazine. She had been as good as her word. When published the piece had taken off, the fourth success for Kjersti in as many months. All these she cheerfully blamed on Ana. Without Ana, there wo
uld have just been those poor poisoned Italians, now long forgotten by Kjersti.

  With a permanent invitation to Norway whenever Ana liked, though summer was preferable, a friendship was sealed. Ana planned to take her up on the visit. She had not forgotten one question she wanted to ask: how had Kjersti and Davide linked for María's simulation? Not knowing this gnawed at her. It wasn't so much about Davide, but more about how it had occurred. María was unapproachable.

  Shutting her apartamento door Ana congratulated herself. Finally she was over Davide. It had taken long enough. He was in the past. It might have been so different if tio Toño had never raised the consanguinity red herring. Now she was in charge of herself, shortly to be financially independent and with hopes of olive groves and olive oil to come.

  She poured her customary glass of wine, sat and picked up her tablet. Only one email, thank goodness. She opened it.

  Arriving Madrid next Saturday. Been too long. Dinner at 9?

  Oleg and Andrei: Tallinn

  After sixty days as the guests of the Estonian President and the Eesti Politsei, Oleg and Andrei were back on speaking terms. Days sharing the same cell enforced a reconciliation as well as the realisation that they must cooperate. Transferring money from their accounts, for each had to pay good behaviour bonds, uncorked the realisation that their time locked up had had one unintended advantage: Toomas and Aniika had been unable to force their expected transfers.

  Speaking in coded terms Oleg and Andrei agreed to depart Tallinn as soon as practical. If they could rescue their emergency passports and cash and reach the bus station they could be in Riga within four hours. Another couple of hours afterwards they would hopefully be on a plane climbing for somewhere warm and anonymous. They could transfer their ill-earned gains from afar, via their Estonian digital society IDs.