Bitter Memories

by Margaret Mayo

  For the rest of the night Tanya sat in his room. She saw no point in going back to bed when she would not sleep. The armchair was deep and comfortable, and she imagined Manolo curled up in it with his father while he read him a story. She had always regretted that she and Peter had no children. If she’d had a little boy she would have wanted him to be like Manolo, polite and well-behaved, a genuine joy to be with and to take out anywhere.

  The next thing she knew it was daylight and Manolo was tugging her arm. ‘Wake up, Tanya, wake up. I want to go and see Papá.’

  It took Tanya a second or two to realise where she was and what had happened, and when she did she hugged Manolo closely. This precious child was the son of the man she loved and he was worried about him, the same as she was. It was a bond they shared at this moment in time.

  ‘I think your daddy would insist that you go to school. When you come out I will take you, I promise.’

  ‘I don’t want to go to school.’ Tears began to roll down his cheeks again.

  ‘Oh, Manolo, I know you don’t. There are lots of things in life that we don’t want to do, but we have to. Please be a brave boy for your daddy’s sake.’

  He buried his face in her chest and she let him cry, stroking his thick black hair, so like his father’s, and in a minute or two he had pulled himself together. ‘If you think it is what Papá would want me to do, then I will go.’ He was trying very hard to be brave.

  Tanya hugged him. ‘You’re a good boy, Manolo.

  ‘And you will take me when I come out?’

  ‘Yes, of course, I promise.’

  ‘At lunchtime?’

  Tanya shook her head. ‘Oh, no, you must have your siesta. I will take you after you have finished for the day.’ Cris had explained to her that his brother’s housekeeper would be there to keep her eye on him. ‘And now I think you should get washed and dressed while I see to your breakfast.’

  She found out that Manolo normally went to school with a friend who lived near by, so after she had taken him there, Manolo explaining to the boy’s mother what had happened, because the woman did not speak English, she took a taxi to the hospital.

  She kept her fingers mentally crossed that Alejandro would have come out of his coma, hurrying down the ward, not bothering to ask whether it would be all right; no one would have stopped her anyway. When she saw the empty bed, every vestige of colour drained from Tanya’s face, Oh, no, please, no. There was some mistake. She was in the wrong ward; this couldn’t have happened. Oh, please, God, no. ‘No!’ The word came out in a thin wail.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE next thing Tanya knew she was sitting on the bed, surrounded by nurses, a glass of water being pushed into her hand. ‘Alejandro,’ she managed to gasp. ‘What has happened to him?’

  There was much gesticulating and talking, but Tanya did not know what they were saying. ‘English,’ she said. ‘Please speak in English.’ But no one spoke her language and she began to feel desperate, until another nurse, seeing the commotion, stopped to see what was going on, and to Tanya’s relief he spoke English.

  ‘Where is Alejandro Vázquez?’ she asked. ‘He was in this bed last night.’

  After a brief discussion with the nurses he told her that Alejandro had been moved earlier that morning to a clinic in Santa Cruz.

  Intense relief washed over her.

  ‘His brother organised it,’ went on the doctor. ‘He did not tell you?’

  Tanya shook her head. ‘I was so afraid that Alejandro…’ Her voice was too choked to speak her thoughts.

  ‘I will give you the address,’ said the doctor kindly. ‘This man is your husband?’ He had noticed the ring on her finger.

  ‘No, my—er—friend. I was with him when the accident happened.’

  ‘I see; I understand your concern. You have a car?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I will get someone to order you a taxi. Come, come with me.’

  At the clinic Tanya was taken to Alejandro’s room. She had no idea what to expect and was deeply distressed when she saw that he was still unconscious. There were tubes and wires monitoring his every breath. He did not look ill or pale or anything like that, he looked just as though he were naturally asleep, and when Tanya was left alone she took his hand in hers.

  ‘Oh, Alejandro, please get better. I love you so much. I can’t bear the thought that You’re hurt, and all because of my stupidity in forgetting my bag. If we hadn’t argued it wouldn’t have happened. I should never have stopped you making love to me. I love you desperately. Oh, my darling, please speak, please open your eyes, please.’ But there was nothing, no response, not even the flicker of an eyelid.

  She continued to talk to him, to tell him her innermost feelings, to hold his hand, to stroke it, to look at him, to study every line on his face. He was so handsome, so beautiful, so everything. She touched his face, his eyelids, his nose, his mouth, his infinitely kissable lips. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. ‘I love you, Alejandro. I love you with all my heart.’ Her tears fell on his cheeks and she wiped them away with a gentle finger.

  And then a noise behind made her turn, and there was Beatriz, her own eyes moist. Tanya wondered how long she had stood there, but she did not feel embarrassed.

  ‘You found him, I see. I telephoned to tell you he had been moved, but no answer. I not think you come this early.’

  ‘I took Manolo to his friend’s and then went straight to the hospital,’ Tanya told her. ‘I don’t mind telling you I thought the worst when I saw his bed empty.’

  ‘I am sorry you were worried,’ said Beatriz, her hand coming over Tanya’s. ‘We thought it better to have him nearer home. Alejandro, he will pull through, I am sure. He is strong. He will be all right. How is Manolo?’

  ‘He wanted to come,’ said Tanya with a wry smile. ‘He wanted to see his father last night. I’ve promised he can see him when he finishes school.’

  ‘What have you told him?’

  ‘I told him about the accident, but I just said he was asleep last night. I haven’t told him that he hasn’t woken at all.’

  Beatriz nodded. ‘He adores Alejandro. I am so proud of the way he has brought the boy up.’

  ‘He does him credit,’ agreed Tanya.

  ‘Sí, very much so.’ She glanced fondly at her brother-in-law. ‘I do not know any other man who would do this for a boy who was not his own.’

  Tanya looked sharply at Beatriz. ‘What do you—’

  Her question was cut off as a nurse hurried into the ward, followed closely by a man in a white coat who she presumed was the doctor.

  ‘We had better get out,’ said Beatriz, ‘and I must go. I came to check you had found Alejandro, and to see how he was, of course. I’ll be back later. You will still be here?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Tanya. ‘I shall stay all day if they’ll let me.’

  But that was not possible, she was told afterwards. She ought not to be here now. She could come back later in the morning and then again this afternoon.

  In the taxi Tanya’s thoughts were in chaos. What had Beatriz meant when she said Manolo wasn’t Alejandro’s? If he wasn’t Alejandro’s son, then whose boy was he? Perhaps he was adopted. Was that what she had meant? Perhaps Juanita hadn’t been able to have children. But why hadn’t Alejandro told her? On the other hand, why should he? He clearly regarded Manolo as his own, and probably saw no reason to tell anyone that he wasn’t actually his own flesh and blood.

  Back at Alejandro’s house Tanya met his housekeeper, who had no idea that her employer was in hospital. To begin with she had been suspicious of this strange girl who had come walking into the house, but once Tanya explained what had happened—with mime and careful use of words, because she also could speak no English—she accepted her. Cecilia was very distressed when she learned what had happened.

  Alejandro’s car had turned up in her absence, and Tanya decided to use it to go back and forth to the hospital. It was costing her a sma
ll fortune in taxi fares. She wished there were some change in him; she wished he would come round. She talked and talked, pouring out her heart and soul, but all to no avail.

  Cris came, and other brothers and sisters of Alejandro, all looking suitably solemn, and Tanya felt sure they must be blaming her. She had told Crisógono that it was her bag he had fallen over, and she felt sure he must have passed the word on. Even the fact that they were friendly towards her made no difference to her guilt.

  When Manolo arrived home from school his first words were that he wanted to visit his father, and, true to her promise, Tanya took him. She prayed that Alejandro would be awake, but he wasn’t. Manolo stood and looked with great interest at all the tubes and instruments, but he did not say anything. He seemed to take for granted the fact that when you were ill in hospital they did all sorts of things to you.

  ‘Papá doesn’t look poorly,’ he whispered to Tanya.

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ she agreed. ‘But he’s hurting inside, and that’s why he’s sleeping all the time.’

  ‘He does not feel the hurt when he is asleep?’

  ‘That’s right, Manolo. You can talk to him if you like; he might hear you.’

  ‘Like as if it is a dream?’ he asked, his eyes wide.

  Tanya nodded.

  ‘I dreamt about Papá last night.’

  ‘Yes, I know, I heard you.’

  ‘I cried; I was frightened. I thought Papá was going to die.’

  ‘No, Manolo.’ Tanya gathered him to her. ‘Your papá is going to get well. You tell him now that he must get better; tell him you want him home.’

  They spent an hour at the hospital, and at the end of it she could see that Manolo was beginning to get agitated. Then Beatriz and Crisógono came again with their two children, and he was happy when he had someone his own age to talk to. He ran off with his cousins, and Tanya said to Cris, ‘How long do you think he will be like this?’

  Cris shook his head sadly. ‘I do not know; the doctors do not know either. We have to be patient.’

  Being patient was the hardest thing Tanya had ever had to do. She slept that night, but only because her body insisted, and the next day she was at the clinic as soon as it was allowed. Manolo came with her again after school, and Tanya began to worry that his father’s continuing sleep might have some detrimental effect on him.

  ‘Why doesn’t Papá wake up?’ he kept asking, and Tanya had to tell him that it was because of his illness. ‘But he can hear us talking,’ she assured him.

  ‘I could sing to him,’ said Manolo hopefully. ‘Papá likes to me to sing.’

  ‘That’s a wonderful idea,’ she agreed at once. ‘I’d like to hear you sing as well.’

  And so, in a clear, high voice, without any sign of self-consciousness, Manolo began to sing. Tanya had no idea what it was, because he sang in his native language, but it sounded very cheerful, and as she watched Alejandro she thought she saw his eyelids flicker, and a tiny movement of his fingers. Manolo did too, because he halted and then went on with renewed vigour, and this time Alejandro definitely showed signs of hearing his son’s voice.

  It was with a struggle that his eyes eventually opened, as though his lids were glued together and he was having to prise them apart. ‘Papá! Papá!’ Manolo threw himself at his father before Tanya could restrain him, and Alejandro’s arms came about his son.

  Tanya felt tears well, and wondered whether she ought to go out the room. Alejandro would not want her here, not after their argument. She was the very last person he would wish to speak to.

  But already Alejandro’s eyes were on her. At first he frowned, as if trying to recollect what had happened, and then he let go of his son and held out his hand to Tanya. ‘Come here,’ he said faintly.

  But at that moment a nurse came into the room to make one of her routine checks, and, upon seeing Alejandro conscious, she let out a cry of pleasure. ‘It is good; it is good. I will fetch the doctor.’

  Hanging back then, in case the doctor came immediately Tanya was surprised when Alejandro said more strongly, ‘Tanya, I want to hold you.’

  With a faint smile she joined Manolo, and the two of them held on to him for a few poignant moments. Perhaps he hadn’t yet remembered their argument, she thought, clinging to these few precious moments. And then the doctor came and they were ushered out and more tests and examinations were made over the next hour or so, until finally the medical staff pronounced they could find nothing wrong. ‘But we will keep him in for a few days’ observation,’ the doctor told her.

  Beatriz and Crisógono and their children came after that and Tanya left, feeling that she was in the way. Beatriz promised to bring Manolo home.

  Tomorrow was the day she should be flying back to England, and that evening Charlene phoned her. ‘I’m not going,’ said Tanya at once, ‘not until Alejandro’s out of hospital. Manolo needs me. I’ve already cancelled my flight.’

  ‘You’re a fool. What if you lose your job?’

  ‘No, I won’t. I’ve telephoned John Drake and explained the position. He’s going to keep the temp on until I get back.’

  Charlene grumbled some more, but Tanya would not change her mind, and in bed that night she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She had not had a chance to tell Alejandro that she was looking after his son, though she had no doubt that Beatriz had done so. Would he appreciate it, or would he be angry and say she was pushing her nose in where it was not wanted?

  Because she was not sure of the reception she would get Tanya almost did not go to visit him the next morning, until Manolo asked her to tell his daddy he would visit him after school; then she knew she had to go, for his son’s sake. Manolo had clung to her these last few days. It was amazing how easily he had accepted her. They had built up a rapport that would be difficult to break, and she hoped the boy would not be too upset when she went back to England.

  She would be upset herself, there was no doubt about it. Leaving Alejandro would be hard, devastating in fact, and it would be very difficult to carry on her life as though he had not happened. Though she knew she must. This had been just another interlude, exciting while it lasted but destined for failure.

  When she got to the hospital, Alejandro, wearing a pair of deep blue Paisley pyjamas, was sitting in a chair near the wide-open window. He turned when he heard her footsteps, and Tanya held her breath, wondering what sort of reception she would get. He needed a shave; three days of growth had darkened his chin. ‘Designer stubble’, they called it, and actually it suited him; he would look very handsome with a beard, she thought. Not that he didn’t already. His dark good looks had attracted her right from the very beginning, from the day she had seen him at her friend’s wedding. Her heart had quickened its beats then, and it did the same now.

  ‘Tanya.’ His smile was welcoming but wary.

  ‘Hello, Alejandro, how are you feeling?’ She went up to him, but not too close, because she knew if she did so she would want to throw herself into his arms.

  ‘I’m anxious to get out of here,’ he grumbled. ‘I don’t see why I can’t leave now. I’m perfectly fit.’

  ‘They need to make sure there are no after-effects, nothing they’ve missed.’ She twisted her fingers uneasily. ‘It was my fault you fell. If I hadn’t forgotten my bag it wouldn’t have been lying around. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hell, don’t apologise. I should have looked where I was going. I was so damn mad at you, but I’ve done a lot of thinking since I came round. It was wrong of me to be angry simply because you said no. Will you ever forgive me?’

  Tanya was startled by his apology, startled but pleased. ‘I already have,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve done a lot of thinking too, Alejandro. I should never have let you kiss me when I knew I’d put a stop to it if you went too far.’

  He looked as though he agreed. ‘What I can’t understand, Tanya, is that only two weeks ago we spent a wonderful night together, and now you’re virtually holding me at arm’s length.
Why is that?’

  Tanya drew in a deep breath and avoided looking at him. ‘It was a mistake.’

  ‘A mistake?’ He frowned. ‘Some mistake when you actively enjoyed it. And don’t say you didn’t, because no woman can act like that.’

  ‘I did enjoy it,’ she said with a rueful grimace, ‘but it is something I have no intention of repeating.’

  ‘Ever?’ His dark eyes were watchful on hers.

  Tanya drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. ‘If the circumstances were right I might,’ she ventured, choosing her words carefully.

  ‘And what would those circumstances be?’ He pushed himself up from his chair and came to stand beside her, not touching, but close enough for her to feel the utter maleness of him, close enough to drive her insane.

  She closed her eyes, and her voice was no more than a husky whisper. ‘Mutual love. A one-sided affair is worse than no affair at all.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said to her surprise. ‘Loving someone who doesn’t love you can be torture.’

  Tanya looked at him in astonishment. He knew! Oh, lord, he knew! Had Beatriz told him? Or had he guessed? Had she given herself away? She must change the subject quickly now, before it become too embarrassing. Inching away from him, she made a show of smelling the red roses that stood on his bedside table. Flowers for a man! She did not know who had sent them, but could only guess that it was Inocente. Her fingers curled.

  As if he too had had enough of talking about themselves he said gruffly, ‘I want to thank you for looking after Manolo. Things are bit hazy in my mind, but isn’t it today you should be flying home?’

  Tanya inclined her head. ‘I cancelled it. I’ll go once You’re fit and well. Manolo asked me to tell you that he’ll be in to see you when he comes out of school. He’s been every day, talking to you, singing, praying. He loves you totally. Why didn’t you tell me that he wasn’t your real son?’