Bitter Memories

by Margaret Mayo

  It was cold, icy cold, and when they were a few feet out Alejandro suggested she dip herself completely into the water. ‘The quicker you do it, the better it will be.’ And because she did not want to make a fool of herself, Tanya obeyed. It took her breath away at first, but then she began to discover that it wasn’t so cold after all.

  They waded out another couple of yards until it was up to her breasts. ‘Now let’s see what you can do,’ said Alejandro.

  ‘I can’t do anything.’ Tanya was suddenly terrified of taking her feet off the bottom. ‘I’m scared. I can’t do it, Alejandro. I want to go back.’

  But he would hear none of it. ‘Try floating. I’ll put my hand under your back; you have nothing to fear.’ And more softly, ‘Trust me, mi cariño.’

  His hand was solid and comforting behind her, and gradually she allowed herself to fall backwards, her feet coming up, until finally she was floating on the surface of the water, Alejandro’s hand still beneath her.

  ‘Relax,’ he murmured mesmerically. ‘Close your eyes and think of something nice.’ And because she knew he was there, because she knew he would let nothing happen to her, Tanya did so, and when Alejandro moved his hand away she remained floating, and she marvelled that she was doing it without feeling any fear. That was the main thing, not her achievement. Alejandro was giving her confidence.

  Manolo too floated at her side, and when she opened her eyes and looked at him he grinned. ‘It is easy, yes?’

  Within half an hour Tanya found herself actually swimming and enjoying it—for the first time in her life she was enjoying it. Alejandro never moved away from her; he swam at her side, or stood and watched, and always he was there at the ready in case she should panic, always offering her words of encouragement.

  Manolo had joined a group of boys his own age, and she and Alejandro were alone. They were floating again now, side by side, and he said quietly, ‘Tanya, you are driving me crazy, do you know that? You are as irresistible to me now as you were nine years ago.’

  She wished he hadn’t said that, because nine years ago he had left England without contacting her again. In less than a week after their argument he had gone. She couldn’t have been that irresistible! ‘You have a smooth tongue, Alejandro.’

  ‘You do not believe me?’

  ‘Once I would have believed you, but not any longer. Now I suspect you say the same sort of thing to every girl.’

  He gave a snort of anger and rolled off his back to tread water at her side. ‘That was uncalled for.’

  ‘Was it?’ she asked, looking into the angry dark depths of his eyes. ‘Not from this side of the fence. In any case, a lot’s happened since then. I’m not quite the gullible young girl I was. We had a good time while it lasted, but it’s over, forgotten, and that’s how I’d like it to remain.’

  ‘I’m not getting through to you, am I, Tanya?’

  ‘No.’ She rolled off her back too and began to swim towards the shore, and this time she did not need him to give her confidence; she was swimming automatically, capably—and she amazed herself.

  He easily caught her up. ‘Haven’t I made myself clear that I’d like to begin all over again?’

  Tanya’s feet touched the bottom. ‘Perfectly, but I don’t happen to feel the same way.’

  ‘Because there’s someone else in your life?’

  She started to wade out of the water. ‘No.’

  ‘Then why?’ He was walking with her, looking at her, trying to make her see his point of view.

  ‘Let’s say that when I walked out of your hotel room all those years ago it was a decision I’ve never regretted. I’ve never wished to undo it, to resume a relationship with you. It didn’t work then; it wouldn’t work now.’ Hell, why was she lying, why did she consistently push him away from her? The answer was simple—she did not trust him.

  ‘It could work, Tanya.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head determinedly. ‘I refuse to even give it a try. You’re wasting your time.’

  ‘Papá, Papá, wait for me.’ Manolo had spotted his father leaving.

  Alejandro turned but Tanya carried on, and when they joined her she was lying face down on her towel.

  ‘I think Tanya is tired,’ said Manolo.

  ‘I think so too,’ said Alejandro.

  ‘I would like a drink, Papá.’

  ‘Then we will go and get you one.’

  Silence reigned as they moved away, and Tanya squinted at them through half-closed eyes. Manolo was trying to match his stride to his father’s, his head tilted at exactly the same angle, his hands clasped similarly behind his back. He clearly adored his father and, what was more important, was extremely well-behaved.

  When they returned she was still lying in the same position, but sat up instantly when Manolo said, ‘Wake up, Tanya; we have a Coke for you.’

  Thank you.’ She took the can from the boy and they both sat down on their towels beside her, and there was silence as they all drank thirstily through their straws. Manolo was the first to finish, noisily, happily. ‘Can we swim again now?’

  ‘I’ll stay here with Tanya,’ said Alejandro. ‘You go and play with your new friends. Don’t go out too far.’

  ‘No, Papá.’

  The boy ran off happily enough, and Tanya said, ‘He’s a nice boy, well-behaved and well-adjusted. You’ve done a good job on him.’

  ‘It was no hardship,’ he said with a shrug of his wide shoulders. ‘We were always close, even before Juanita died.’

  ‘Was she ill long?’ asked Tanya, recalling Peter’s lengthy period of poor health.

  ‘No, no, it was an accident. A hit-and-run affair. They never caught the person who did it.’ A shadow chased across his face, and Tanya could see his mind going back to that painful time.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Unthinkingly she laid her hand on his arm.

  He put his much bigger hand over hers. ‘Manolo was just over two at the time. The poor little fellow could not understand what had happened. He needed me then and he’s clung to me ever since.’

  Which made him just turned eight now, not seven as she had thought. Which meant—

  Alejandro’s voice cut into her thoughts. ‘It was a long time ago, Tanya.’ He had evidently mistaken her sudden tension for sympathy over his loss.

  Her eyes flashed. ‘I was actually thinking that if Manolo is eight you didn’t waste much time in marrying Juanita.’ Her tone was sharply critical, and she snatched her hand away from beneath his.

  ‘You were the one who put an end to our relationship, Tanya,’ he pointed out coldly.

  Was that what he really thought? Hadn’t it occurred to him that if he’d come after her she would have said how much she loved him, admitted she had been wrong not to believe his declaration that he did not love Juanita? Now that she had met Manolo she knew that she had been right. ‘I’m glad that I did,’ she spat savagely. ‘If I wasn’t sure before that I had done the right thing, I am now.’

  ‘You had doubts?’ he asked sharply.

  Tanya shrugged. ‘Only in my weaker moments.’

  ‘And were there many of those?’ His eyes were intent upon hers.

  ‘For the first few days, that’s all,’ she cried. ‘After that I put you right out of my mind.’

  Her harsh words fuelled Alejandro’s anger and he jerked himself furiously to his feet. ‘I am wasting my time. I will get my son and take him to see the eleccion de la reina infantil. You can please yourself whether you come or not.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TANYA went to the election of the juvenile queen, but only because Manolo insisted. When she declared, after they had eaten their lunch in a side-street restaurant, that she was going back to the apartment he caught her hand anxiously. ‘No, no, Tanya, you must come with us. Papá, tell her; make her come.’ He seemed to have taken an instant liking to her, and actually the feeling was mutual. Tanya was fond of him too.

  Banks of seats were erected in the square for the audience,
and Manolo sat between her and Alejandro. They looked like an average happy family, thought Tanya; how deceptive appearances could be. Manolo was disappointed when his cousin did not win, although slightly appeased when she was selected as one of the queen’s entourage.

  On their drive back to the apartment the boy went to sleep, and once they got there Alejandro said he was taking his son home.

  ‘Do you usually stay here?’ asked Tanya.

  Alejandro nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ But if he thought she would suggest they did so now he was mistaken. The more time they spent together the less easy it was to pretend indifference.

  Once indoors she sat down on the white leather couch and pondered over her discovery that Alejandro and Juanita had got married almost immediately he came home from England. It was a hard fact to take in. And twelve months later—probably less than that, depending on when his birthday was—Manolo had been born!

  It proved beyond any shadow of doubt that she, Tanya, had meant nothing to him. He had needed female company while he was in England and she had proved the perfect companion, giving him her all. He must have thought his luck was in. And then the instant things had gone a little wrong between them he had turned tail and fled, without giving her another thought!

  She wished now that she had never let him cajole her into coming here to Santa Cruz. Everything was worse than she had imagined. She got up and paced the room, looked out through the window at the receding shape of the mountains, at the pinpoints of light beginning to appear in the buildings climbing their slopes, looked down at the cars in the street below, turned and looked at the room with its white tiled floor and pine furniture and the glossy green leaves of exotic plants which added to its still coolness.

  She shivered and suddenly thought longingly of England with its carpeted floors and central heating or cosy coal fires. She wanted to go back to her house where she felt safe and secure; she did not want to stay here where Alejandro unsettled her.

  The telephone rang, and it startled her in the silence of the room. Alejandro! Her heart pattered as she picked it up. ‘Hello?’

  But it was her sister, ringing to ask where she had been. ‘I was going to come and see you,’ she said accusingly.

  Tanya explained about their day out, and the discovery of Alejandro’s son, and had only just set the phone down when it rang again. This time it was Alejandro. ‘Get yourself ready,’ he told her. ‘We’re having supper out.’

  Although she was hungry Tanya said sharply, ‘Oh, no, we’re not. Besides, it’s much too far for you to keep travelling backwards and forwards from Orotava.’

  ‘That’s my problem, not yours,’ he told her gruffly. ‘I’ll be there in half an hour.’

  The phone went dead before she could speak again, and Tanya was left with no choice. He had sounded as though he was only making the offer because he thought it was the right thing to do. He needn’t have bothered; she would have much preferred to spend the evening alone.

  No, that wasn’t strictly true; she did not want to be alone, but her own company would certainly be better than Alejandro’s. They had nothing in common any more, except perhaps an unwanted animal attraction. Maybe this was what they’d had all along. Maybe she had never loved him. Maybe she had mistaken physical pleasure for love. He was the only man who had ever stimulated her to the extreme in this way.

  Peter’s lovemaking had been gentle and certainly less than innovative, but she had been happy and satisfied because he had been loving in other ways too, her friend as well as her lover, her right arm when she had needed him, always obliging, always happy and generous and thoughtful.

  Alejandro had some of these traits too, but it had been the physical side of their relationship that had been dominant, and, looking back, she could see that she had put this before everything else. She had hungered for his body but not his soul and his mind—and those feelings were still there, unfortunately.

  He turned up in thirty minutes exactly, and Tanya was waiting. She was given a thorough appraisal, starting at the tip of her pink-painted toenails, at her strappy white sandals, right up the slender length of her legs to the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts beneath her pink linen dress, finally coming to rest on her face, their eyes meeting, but his giving nothing away.

  Tanya felt uncomfortably warm, and she expected some comment, a compliment perhaps, but all he said was, ‘Good, You’re ready. Let’s go.’

  With a mental shrug she slipped into her white jacket, picked up her bag, and followed him out to the lift. There was still an atmosphere between them, and she wished he had not suggested they go out. It was going to be a tense, difficult evening.

  They sat in silence in his Mercedes, the soft cover pulled over on this cool February evening, and instead of taking her to a restaurant in Santa Cruz, as she had expected, he drove along the La Cuesta highway to the university town of La Laguna. It was only a matter of eight kilometres, and once there he pulled up outside a big house in one of the narrow streets in the old part of the town. Tanya looked at him in surprise.

  ‘Where are we?’

  ‘At my brother’s.’

  ‘But——’

  ‘It is all right; you’ve been invited.’

  Tanya shook her head, feeling a little bemused. She had no wish to meet any members of his family. Why had he invited her? What had he said? How about Inocente—where did she fit into all of this? Wasn’t she Alejandro’s girlfriend? Oughtn’t she to have been asked instead?

  He pushed open a huge, carved wooden door and they stepped into a plant-filled patio along similar lines to his own. It amazed Tanya that there was this oasis of green just the other side of an innocent-looking wall. It must be, she thought, that all the older houses had these private, beautiful courtyards.

  Immediately a side-door opened, and to Tanya’s surprise Beatriz came forward to greet them. ‘Alejandro, welcome.’ They embraced and kissed warmly, as they had at the airport when Tanya had mistaken her for his wife. ‘And Tanya, I am so glad you have at last come.’ She kissed Tanya on each cheek. ‘I keep asking Alejandro to bring you; he say you are always doing something else. Come inside and meet my husband. He is looking forward to seeing you.’

  Alejandro’s brother looked nothing like him, much shorter and with a paunch, his dark hair already receding even though he was a few years younger. ‘Crisógono, meet Tanya. Tanya, my husband,’ introduced Beatriz.

  ‘So you are the mysterious Tanya.’ Crisógono gave her a warm, welcoming smile and a bear-like hug. ‘We heard about you when Alejandro came back from his time spent in England and couldn’t believe it when he said he’d met you again recently.’ His English was as perfect as Alejandro’s and Tanya remembered Beatriz saying that her husband too had been to England.

  Alejandro had told his family about her all those years ago! Tanya was shocked, and wondered exactly what he had said—especially since Juanita had been waiting at home for him. He could not have told them that they’d had a sizzling affair; he must have hinted that she was someone he’d met—a platonic friend, no more. On the other hand, he had declared that he’d written to Juanita, telling the girl about her. Perhaps they did know. Perhaps everyone knew. Perhaps they thought that they might get back together again now that he was a widower. Heavens, it was so embarrassing.

  ‘It’s very kind of you to invite me,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘You must forgive me if I seem confused. Alejandro did not tell me we were coming here.’

  ‘Alejandro!’ exclaimed his sister-in-law at once. ‘You are very naughty.’

  ‘I thought it would be a nice surprise,’ he insisted, smiling at Beatriz, looking at Tanya speculatively.

  She did not respond. She was, in fact, not sure how to behave. She had no idea what sort of a relationship she was supposed to be having with Alejandro.

  ‘You are very welcome,’ announced Crisógono. ‘Come and sit down; I will pour you a drink.’

  They were in a large room
filled to overflowing with large pieces of furniture and the inevitable pot plants, and Tanya chose a deep, comfortable armchair. Alejandro lowered himself into the chair next to her, separated only by a small, square, black-carved table with a beautiful figurine of the madonna standing on it.

  Tanya wished he had chosen to sit somewhere else. It made them seem like a couple, which they were most definitely not.

  Crisógono handed her a glass with just a drop of wine in the bottom which he proudly announced was from his own vineyard. ‘Taste it and tell me what you think.’

  Tanya sipped the golden liquid and tried not to grimace when she found it too sweet, like the one Matilde usually gave her. Perhaps all the local wines were sweet. But Crisógono, who had been watching her closely, said at once, ‘You do not like it? Drink no more; I have another.’ Within a matter of seconds her glass was replaced. ‘Smell the bouquet,’ he said proudly. ‘Savour it. You will like this one, I am sure.’

  Tanya smiled. He was being very dramatic. But when she tasted the wine it was much more to her taste, and she nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, I like this one, thank you.’ She held out her glass so that he could fill it.

  ‘And you, Alejandro, my brother, what will you have to drink—your usual whisky?’

  Alejandro inclined his head.

  ‘My brother does not like my wine,’ Crisógono told Tanya, shaking his head sadly. ‘He has far more sophisticated tastes.’

  It was true, thought Tanya. Crisógono was very much more down to earth than Alejandro, despite the fact that they were both farmers—in different ways; both worked the land, and in fact the younger man’s produce went through quite a sophisticated process once the grapes were picked, whereas Alejandro’s tomatoes were simply picked and sold. It was an odd parallel.

  ‘Of course he has,’ said Beatriz, ‘when you consider the company he keeps ’