Katarina stared at the empty stage, craning her neck as she watched the audience members slowly exit, fuelled with excitement from an evening at the theatre. They had no idea that right in front of their eyes, codes to help a war against Franco were being distributed.
‘Before I forget, another letter arrived for you today.’ Raul fished in his jacket pocket and handed over the missive from the fictional flamenco teacher in France.
‘So soon?’ She opened it then spotted Federico striding towards them, hands clasped behind his back. Quickly folding the paper, she shoved it down the front of her blouse.
‘You had a decent performance this evening,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ Katarina studied Federico, the familiar air of surliness hanging around him.
‘I’ve been watching you.’ Federico’s words sounded calculated and she didn’t dare glance at Raul, scared an action such as this might draw more attention.
Her heart raced and she lifted her chin higher. ‘And?’
‘And there’s something different about your dancing. I noticed the change a while ago, but thought I was imagining it but tonight cemented my musings. There’s something … deeper with your work. Like you are more connected than ever.’
Katarina’s mouth grew dry and her mind whirred, trying to come up with a feasible explanation. ‘Since starting with your company, I feel like I’ve found my home. I—’
Federico waved his hand in a dismissive manner. ‘It is not this. It is …’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘I am not sure but whatever you are doing, keep it up. I like it. The audience likes it. My reputation likes it. The Lobos’ banker likes it even more.’
He turned on his heels and strode into the shadows. As much as she wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, she kept herself poised, aware Federico could now be studying her from a dark corner of the theatre.
‘Let’s go.’ Raul grabbed her elbow and guided Katarina to the dressing room. He pushed open the door and they quickly entered, closing it behind them.
Panic grew in her belly. ‘What if he’s on to us?’
Raul shook his head vehemently. ‘He can’t be. Didn’t you hear what he said? He likes the changes in your dancing. If he suspected anything then you would know about it. I would know about it. Listen, we don’t need to worry about him. There’re other things I’d rather discuss.’
Raul moved in close, his warm breath dancing across her neck. His lips met her skin and a rush of love ran through her.
‘Raul …’
‘I’ve missed you.’
She closed her eyes, revelling in his affection, basking in his nearness. They’d made love only hours before their performance but for Katarina that was too long ago. She needed him, wanted him—now.
Katarina’s fingers deftly undid the buttons of his shirt as Raul slid the blouse off her shoulders. With locked lips, their hands made light work of each other’s clothing, their breath coming out in short, sharp bursts.
A knock on the door made them freeze.
‘Katarina, are you in there?’
Raul’s eyes widened and Katarina slapped a hand over her mouth at the sound of Salvador’s voice. Motioning for Raul to get dressed as she did the same, Katarina called out, ‘I’ll just be a moment.’
With them both in a respectable state again, Katarina pointed at the chair and Raul dutifully followed her instructions and took a seat. Turning the handle and swinging the door wide open, Katarina plastered a smile on her face, even though her heart beat so hard and fast she feared it would fracture her ribcage.
‘What took you so—’ Salvador’s gaze travelled to Raul who sat on the chair, his legs casually crossed. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted … something.’
‘You haven’t interrupted anything.’ Katarina smoothed down her skirt. ‘We’re just going over this evening’s events and figuring out what we can do better.’
‘Given tonight’s performance I doubt you have anything to improve. They absolutely loved you.’ Salvador stepped into the room and put his arm around her shoulders.
‘They love all of us,’ she smiled, feeling heat rush across her cheeks.
Raul stood and walked towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you two be as I must meet Federico. Thank you both for a great performance tonight.’
‘You’re welcome,’ said Salvador.
Katarina didn’t look directly at Raul because she didn’t want to give away the turmoil creating havoc inside her. She desperately wanted to ask if they’d meet later. Raul exited and Salvador sat on the chair her lover had just warmed.
‘So how long have you and Raul been with each other?’
‘What?’ She shouldn’t have been surprised by his question but it did knock her off kilter.
‘You’ve started up again. A blind man can see it. When I first heard he was paired with us I had a feeling he would be too much temptation for you.’
‘I didn’t think it would be an issue.’ Her tone held too much protest.
‘It’s not an issue, especially because you’ve spent years lamenting giving up your one true chance at love.’ The corners of his mouth kicked up. ‘Are you happy?’
‘More than I could ever have dreamt possible.’ She dipped her head, embarrassed at being caught out.
‘There is nothing to be ashamed of, sweet Katarina. You are a good person with a beautiful heart. You should have a chance at finding love. Maybe you will find that personal duende we have spoken about.’
‘The potential for duende is there,’ she said but didn’t fully believe it. Working for the Maquis put immense pressure on them as a couple and individually. Maybe once this was over, if it ever was over …
‘I’m happy for you.’
‘Thank you, Salvador.’ She walked over and gave him a peck on the cheek.
‘What was that for?’ The smile travelled all the way to his eyes.
‘Thank you for having faith in my dancing, and in me, and for taking me in when I needed help so desperately and now, for not judging me even after I’ve kept a secret from you.’ Swallowing back the tears, she said, ‘You’re my real family, Salvador, and I’ll never forget all that you’ve done for me.’
Salvador frowned. ‘That sounds like a goodbye.’
‘No, no, it’s not.’ She forced her tone to sound chipper. ‘I just don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate all you’ve done … do … for me.’
‘Thank you, but you’ve done much for me. You taught me family doesn’t have to be related by blood.’ Placing both hands on her shoulders, he said, ‘We make a great team.’
‘Yes, we do.’ She nearly choked on her reply, the guilt wadding in a big ball at the back of her throat. It would be so easy to tell Salvador the plan, especially as he hated Franco like her, but he had a young family while Katarina and Raul were free to do as they wished. Salvador needed to be kept in the dark for his own protection.
‘Someone’s dropped something.’ Salvador stood and bent over near the door. He picked up the folded paper and opened it before Katarina had a chance to race forward and snatch it out of his hands. She stood by, her palms sweaty, as he read the letter. ‘It’s for you, I believe.’
‘Thank you.’ She grabbed it and tucked it back in her bra. The damn letter must have fallen out when Raul had peeled off her clothes.
‘You never had a dance teacher that went to France.’
‘I …’ She couldn’t lie her way out of this one.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’ She studied her manicured nails.
‘That’s a whole lot of nothing in that letter. Why are you receiving news from a woman who lives in France and claims to have taught you years ago? Why is she sending you instructions on new sequences for steps?’
‘Please, don’t ask questions.’ She looked up, her eyes pleading with his.
‘Why not?’ Salvador ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign his anxiety had risen. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Nothing, all right?
’ Wringing her hands in her skirt, she said, ‘Just leave it be.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You have to.’
Stepping forward, he used his broad shoulders and height to block any chance of her squirming out of his space. ‘Does this have something to do with Raul? Are you two doing something you shouldn’t?’
‘Salvador!’ She tried to sound indignant, but her voice shook. ‘Raul and I are very much in love, we—’
‘There’s more to it than that.’ Taking a couple steps back, Salvador’s expression softened and he said, ‘It’s not like you to keep secrets from me. First your relationship with Raul and now this French dance teacher.’
‘She’s Spanish and is living in France.’ It surprised Katarina how easy it was to speak about this fictional woman as though she truly existed. The sequences appeared to be written by someone with a deep knowledge of flamenco so perhaps it was someone who was once a teacher. Or still was. Either way, she’d never know. Holding Salvador’s hand, Katarina said, ‘Thank you for your concern but you don’t need to worry.’
‘I do, though.’
‘I’m fine. I promise.’ The realness of this potentially explosive situation hit her hard.
‘I don’t believe you but I know you well enough to not push for answers. I just hope you will come to me when the time is right and explain.’ Squeezing her arms, he said, ‘You’re the little sister I never had and I am always here for you, especially if you’re in trouble.’
‘I’m not in trouble.’
‘I’m not so sure that’s true.’ Kissing her on the cheek, he said, ‘It is my duty, and wish, to look out for you.’
‘Thank you, Salvador.’
After he left, Katarina let out a long sigh. Salvador finding the letter had been a close call and now she had to be extra careful because he’d be watching her like a hawk. This, along with Federico and his recent strangeness. She didn’t worry that Salvador would go to the authorities because of his views, but it was his safety, and that of his family, that caused immense worry. She just hoped he didn’t start digging around and left well enough alone.
CHAPTER
20
1944—Katarina
Katarina sat on the edge of the bed and placed the phone on the receiver, her heart heavy with worry. Claudia’s early morning call had caught Katarina off-guard because since his son’s birth, Salvador hadn’t made a habit of staying out all night. Gone were his nights of drunken stupors and sleeping in bars. These days he went straight home after his performance, safe and sound to his wife and baby.
Katarina quickly donned a dress and coat. It had taken some convincing, but Claudia had promised to stay home and look after the baby while Katarina searched for her best friend. Unease swirled around her as she slipped on her low heels. The timing of Salvador’s disappearing act coincided with him discovering the letter from her fictional flamenco teacher. She prayed it was just a coincidence.
‘Oh, Salvador, what have you done?’ she muttered as she scribbled a note for Raul, who’d arrived at her place late last night after working on a couple of palos at the theatre. He’d been in a mood, no doubt having got into yet another argument with Federico who was growing more cantankerous by the day. She and Raul had made love but the connection she usually felt wasn’t there. He was preoccupied but denied it vehemently. Maybe it had something to do with the latest movements of the Maquis. Last she’d heard they were assembled at the French border in readiness to attack Franco’s Spain, but so far nothing had transpired.
Unable to sleep, Raul had gone to the markets early to try to buy some of the limited produce before it sold out. These were the things that reminded her why she did what she did. Once the Maquis outed Franco then her countrymen would find a way to stop the suffering, the hunger, the destitution.
My dearest Raul,
S is missing. Gone to find him. Will let you know if help needed.
K—xxxxooo
Leaving the note on the pillow on his side of the bed, she left her apartment, which had become a second home to Raul, and dashed down the stairs and onto the deserted street. She would have preferred Raul helping, but the urgency in Claudia’s voice and last night’s events with the letter spurred her to start the search for him straight away.
Hurrying down Calle Consuelo, she passed the almost deserted cafés and restaurants. In the distance lay the ever-present Sierra Nevada, the snow-capped mountains that created a magical backdrop against the centuries-old Moroccan architecture, but as she travelled the streets, concern for Salvador weighing her down, the scenery lost its beauty. Reaching Salvador’s favourite bar, she rested her forehead against the window, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was no movement, but he could easily have passed out under a table and been left by the bar staff to recover from his stupor. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.
Knocking on the window, she scanned the bar, hoping for someone to appear from the shadows but her urgent raps went unanswered. Her next option was the theatre, figuring he may have wandered there from the bar and not had the energy to stumble uphill towards home. Pulling her collar up around her ears, Katarina marched down a few blocks, turned into the alleyway and searched in her pocket for the key to the stage door. She shoved the key in the lock, twisted the handle and let herself in. The click of her heels echoed down the dark hallway as she made her way to Salvador’s shoebox-sized dressing room, and her fingers fumbled for the light switch. She eventually found it and turned on the light, expecting to see Salvador’s bulky form sprawled across the furniture but when the room lit up, an empty couch lay before her.
Frowning, she scanned the room looking for signs of discarded items of clothing or any other evidence that Salvador had spent the night there, but nothing appeared out of place. Turning on her heels, she switched off the light, exited his room and went up the stairs to the stage.
‘Salvador?’ Her voice echoed in the vast expanse of darkness. ‘Are you here?’ She yelled his name a few more times then jumped off the stage and ran up the aisle and into the main foyer. Daylight streamed through the windows, highlighting the pockmarked marble. With no luck there, she rushed back to the dressing rooms and into hers. Flicking on the light, she entered then reached out to grip the doorframe. Lipstick, hairbrushes and hair-ties, powder and papers, were strewn across the room as if a small hurricane had swept through. Her favourite chair was upside down and her father’s painting lay on its side. Rushing over, she picked up the artwork and checked for damage. The bottom left-hand corner had a rip. Although the painting held no value other than sentimental, it had always given her good luck before every performance. But now, looking at the tear, albeit small, sadness overcame her. Perhaps she’d been foolish to leave it in her room.
Clutching the painting against her chest with one hand, Katarina used the other to pick up her belongings and pile them back on the dressing room table. Her senses heightened, she held the artwork and stuck her head out the door, checking for any signs of movement.
It didn’t make sense: why had her room been ransacked while Salvador’s remained untouched? Why would … panic shot through her already tense muscles. Could someone suspect what she’d been up to? Perhaps this person was looking for evidence of her involvement with the Maquis. Dashing down the deserted hallway, she passed Federico’s office and noticed a light under his door. What was he doing here this early? The sound of rustling paper and muttering filtered through the cracks and she knocked on the door, her breath coming out in short, sharp bursts.
Heavy footfalls announced Federico’s arrival and he opened the door a fraction then slammed it shut, the lock clicking into place.
‘Hey!’ She pounded on the door. ‘Let me in.’
‘I’m busy,’ came the muffled voice.
‘Federico!’ Katarina bashed the wood with her fists.
‘Busy!’
‘Let me in!’ she yelled, annoyed and alarmed by his strange behaviour.
> More muffled sounds came from behind the door and this time she heard two voices. She eavesdropped without success. Katarina hated being ignored so she lifted her hand to hit the door again but it swung open to reveal Raul standing in front of her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, startled by his unexpected appearance. ‘You said you were going to the market.’
‘I …’ Raul gazed at the heavens, as if looking for inspiration.
‘You what?’ she demanded. Federico’s reaction at her turning up was bad enough but Raul lying? That invoked anger and hurt—emotions she did not want to experience at the hands of her lover.
‘I—’
‘I called him in on some urgent business.’ Federico looked her in the eye even though she knew he was lying through his teeth.
‘How?’ she asked. ‘Raul was at my place last night.’
Federico’s lack of reaction to her statement showed he already had knowledge about their affair. Dear Lord, what else does he know?
‘Raul is a creature of habit. What does he do every Wednesday morning at six?’
Katarina pulled her lips into a thin line.
‘He goes to the market, yes?’ Federico said with a self-satisfied smile. ‘I needed to speak with him urgently, so I found him there. And by the way,’ he leant in close, almost leering, ‘everyone knows about your involvement with Raul.’
‘Enough, Federico,’ Raul said.
Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she glanced at her lover, who wore a deep frown. ‘That’s impossible. Salvador’s not stupid and he didn’t know about us until last night.’
‘Apparently he is very stupid.’ Federico casually walked behind his desk and gathered the papers spread across the surface. He shoved them in a drawer, locked it and put the key in his top pocket.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Federico, don’t.’ Raul shook his head.
‘Don’t what? What do you know?’ She struggled to remain calm, anger surging through her from Raul’s lack of disclosure. Why had he lied to her? Her gaze travelled from one man to the other, but neither looked directly at her. ‘What?’
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