‘It’s a parent thing,’ her fiancé pacified her, wondering how long this new irritation would last.
‘The way Mum was going on you’d think the economy was going to collapse and we were all going to be paupers. I don’t see any signs of a downturn.’ Chloe sipped her cocktail through its colourful straw and felt some of her tension drift away.
‘Well there is a lot of talk about us not being able to sustain our spending and lifestyle. David McWilliams, that economist, is always going on about it.’
‘Yes, well, our readership is up and there’s lots of money being spent out there. We’re doing a feature on mobile homes for the yummy mummy set, on a very exclusive site in Wicklow, where the mobiles can cost anything up to a hundred K.’ Chloe was an assistant editor on a glossy magazine.
‘That’s mad! Imagine spending a hundred thousand on a caravan,’ Will teased.
‘They’re a bit more than caravans,’ Chloe laughed, nestling in against him. Will was right, it was a parent thing. Her folks would calm down eventually and she would have the wedding she’d set her heart on.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
January 2007
ANNA / AUSTEN
‘This is the best thing we ever did, Anna. I’m really enjoying playing golf out here and I’m looking forward to the lads coming over next week.’ Austin raised his glass of San Miguel.
‘I know, can you believe it’s only five weeks since we were here last? Christmas is done and dusted. Yippee! They’re having gale force storms at home and it’s twenty degrees down here on the Costa,’ Anna agreed smugly, stretching out her tanned legs, sipping her wine.
They’d ordered tapas, having enjoyed a communal lunch earlier with several of the other owners who had attended the first AGM for the management of La Joya. It had been a convivial affair and Anna had put her name forward to act as secretary for the first year, and had been proposed, seconded and elected.
She and Austen were beginning to get to know some of the other residents. A couple of introductory drinks and barbecues, organized by the couple who ran the poolside tapas bar on the complex, had been a huge success and there was a friendly, relaxed holiday vibe about the place that added to the owners’ enjoyment of their luxurious beachfront abodes.
‘Well done for putting your name forward for secretary,’ Austen smiled at her.
‘Well I figure the first year or two will be the easiest, because Constanza Torres has everything under control, so I don’t expect my duties to be too onerous, and then I’ll have done my stint and made my contribution.’ Anna raised her face to the sun. ‘I’m glad your gang are coming out for a visit to play golf, I can’t wait to get the girls over later in the year.’
‘Great, isn’t it? A real win, win; I get to play golf with the lads out here, and when you’re over with the women, I get to play more golf at home. Could life get any better?’ he teased.
‘We could always go up to the apartment and make wild, passionate, unbridled love.’ Anna slanted a glance at him, eyes sparkling.
Austen grinned across the table at his wife. ‘Are we living the dream or what?’
‘We are; now drink up and take me to bed and ride me ragged, I’m having a time-of-life hormone surge!’ Anna declared, wanting to make the most of the only good thing about the whole feckin’ unwanted menopausal experience.
‘God, I love when you talk dirty and I love those hormone surges.’ Austen laughed and drained his glass. He signalled the waiter for the bill and grabbed his wife’s hand. ‘Come on, Jezebel MacDonald and have your wicked hormonal way with me. I’m all yours.’
She’d so dreaded her fifties, Anna reflected, walking hand in hand with her husband across the beach to La Joya, but right now, she was happier and more relaxed than she’d ever been in her entire life. All the stresses of rearing the girls and running a business and a home had taken their toll over the years. Sometimes she and Austen had been like ships that passed in the night. Now they had precious time to spend with each other. It was almost like the early days of their marriage when all they had wanted to do was to be together.
Thank you. She sent a silent prayer of gratitude, feeling the firm, strong clasp of her husband’s hand in hers and feeling deliciously aroused at the thoughts of what those long fingers would soon be doing to her.
They had just walked into the bedroom and were turning to kiss each other when the phone rang. Anna paused from opening the zip on her sundress.
‘Leave it,’ urged Austen, cupping her breasts and bending to kiss the nape of her neck.
Once she would have been unable to relax until she’d seen who was calling, but the new, retired Anna only hesitated for a moment before ignoring the demanding shrill of her phone, to press herself wantonly against her husband, moaning with pleasure as his caresses feathered lightly across her nipples and she could feel his hardness against her.
Later, sated and lying drowsily in his arms, she murmured, ‘I wonder who was ringing me.’
‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ Austen said, entwining his fingers in hers. She forgot about the call until she heard her phone ring again, in the distant depths of her bag. They were sitting on the balcony watching the sky turn a flaming orange, the dipping sun setting the sea alight. ‘I’ll get it for you,’ said her long-suffering husband.
‘Ah, you’re a pet,’ she said gratefully when he handed it to her and she saw she’d missed two calls from Tara.
‘Hello, what’s happening?’ she said when her daughter answered her phone.
‘Mam, I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby. You’re going to be grandparents,’ her eldest announced excitedly. ‘I was going to wait until you got home to tell you, but I just can’t. I was bursting to tell you. We found out two days ago.’
‘Tara, that’s wonderful news! I’m so excited,’ Anna exclaimed. ‘When are you due?’
‘November,’ Tara bubbled.
‘Here, let me pass you on to your father so you can tell him.’ Anna handed Austen the phone.
‘What’s happening in November that’s got your mother so excited?’ he asked.
‘You’re going to be a granddaddy,’ Tara said proudly.
‘Ah Tara, I’m so pleased for you. Not too happy with the G word though. I’m too young for that and it won’t do my street cred any good,’ he teased. ‘But that’s fantastic. I’ll put you back on to your mother, she’s practically grabbing the phone off me. Bye, pet. Take care of yourself.’
‘I will, Dad,’ his daughter said affectionately and he gave Anna back the phone and went into the kitchen to refresh their drinks. A grandfather! Him! It was a bit of a jolt when he heard Tara tell him he would be a granddaddy. Another thought struck him. If the baby was due in November, Anna would want to be at home. They would have to come out earlier in the autumn. That was a bit of a pain in the ass but he’d better not say anything about it, it would be selfish. And he was happy for Tara and James. He poured Cava into his wife’s glass and cracked open another bottle of beer for himself.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Anna beamed when he handed her the glass of bubbly. ‘Just as well I didn’t know earlier, it might have put a dampener on my surges, knowing I was riding a granddad,’ she grinned.
‘Yes granny,’ he countered. ‘Two can play at that game.’
‘OMG! Granny! Never. I’m not going to be called that!’ protested Anna.
‘Well whatever you want to call yourself, we are now officially on the road to old age. We’re going to be grandparents.’
‘It’s all happening, isn’t it? Retirement, a wedding, and now a new baby. We’ll be up to our eyes.’
‘All the more reason to relax out here as often as we can,’ Austen said, knowing his wife was going to be caught up with family stuff and the following year would see them at home a lot more than he’d anticipated. So much for having a luxury penthouse abroad, he thought, trying not to feel resentful.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EDUARDO / CONSUELA
Frowning, Eduardo dialled his wife’s number. Tía Beatriz’s forthcoming discharge was most inconvenient. He’d planned to take the train to Malaga later on with his cousin, to be in attendance at tomorrow’s inaugural meeting of the residents of La Joya, to form their new management committee for the urbanization.
Eduardo was most anxious to put his name forward for the position of El Presidente. Or, failing in his bid for that post, the secretary’s position would be advantageous. He would know everything that was going on. Standards needed to be raised, a firm hand on the tiller was necessary, and he wanted a role on the new committee. He was not content to be on the sidelines like so many of the residents, taking no part in the running of their community.
‘Sí, Eduardo?’ Consuela’s voice in his ear brought him back to reality.
‘Beatriz is being discharged tomorrow. She’s not to be left alone for the next few days, which of course means we should have her to stay with us,’ he said glumly.
‘Very well, I’ll freshen up the guest room, and make sure the electric blanket is switched on when you bring her home,’ his wife said calmly.
‘I don’t suppose . . . eh . . . erm . . .’ – Eduardo felt uncharacteristically hesitant – ‘that you would collect her and bring her home, Consuela? You know I had planned to go to that meeting down in La Joya with Gabriel—’
‘You know Beatriz wouldn’t be happy with that,’ Consuela interrupted him. ‘She’d get in a huff and say she was being a nuisance to me and that she was putting me out, and insist on going home to her own apartment in a taxi.’
‘But that’s ridiculous!’ Eduardo couldn’t hide his exasperation.
‘I know. But you know what she’s like. I’m sorry, you’ll either have to postpone her discharge or cancel the trip to La Joya. I don’t want to have to have an argument with her at the hospital.’
‘But it’s a very important meeting, Consuela. I want to be on that management committee.’
‘You could get Gabriel to propose you and vote for you as well. Proxies are allowed,’ his wife pointed out, irritatingly unaware of how crucial the meeting was to him.
‘Consuela, I feel as though you don’t realize just how—’ To his immense chagrin his wife interrupted him yet again.
‘I have to go, Eduardo, it’s time for a class. Adiós.’
Like his aunt’s consultant, Consuela didn’t bother waiting for his farewells either, Eduardo fumed, slipping his phone into his pocket. His wife had recently started giving cookery and knitting classes at a centre for disadvantaged mothers, and was rarely at home in the mornings now. Since their disastrous holiday the previous summer, Consuela seemed like another person.
‘I am doing what I want, for a change,’ she’d said coldly when she’d told him on their return to Madrid that she was going to do some form of charity work in the mornings, and he’d asked if this was absolutely necessary.
At least she was at home, with their evening meal in preparation, when he returned each day from work. Eduardo supposed he should be thankful for small mercies. But she was no longer as soft and compliant as she used to be and was much more argumentative. That bloody menopausia was a curse on men, and him in particular, Eduardo mused miserably as his heretofore gentle and accommodating wife was, as the months progressed, turning into someone he didn’t recognize.
‘I’m having a pause from men, and a life that is no longer fulfilling me,’ she’d told him smartly when he’d tentatively broached the subject of her menopausal irritability and other symptoms, and asked her whether she should see a doctor.
A pause from men! Eduardo couldn’t believe his ears that his wife could even think in those terms. What a nonsensical utterance to spout. The kind of tripe so-called feminist types came out with. When he’d first become a notary, it was rare to have a female colleague. Now they were ten a penny and perfume was as prevalent as male cologne on the office floor. Not to his liking at all. It was bad enough enduring such behaviour at work without having to come home to it.
Until the row that had changed everything the previous year, Consuela had never refused him sex; now, she often said she didn’t feel like it, and made no apologies for her refusals either. Another unwelcome development in their marriage.
Taking a deep breath, Eduardo knocked on the door of the room his aunt shared with two other patients. Beatriz was resting against her pillows, her white hair plaited in a severe braid rather than its usual topknot. Her bifocal glasses were perched on the end of her nose and she was reading El Mundo with deep interest. Beatriz had all her wits about her and kept up with current affairs better than he did, Eduardo acknowledged, wishing he’d had time to have a coffee and read his newspaper.
‘Discharged tomorrow. What good news,’ he said with faux cheeriness, sitting on the chair beside her bed. ‘And of course you will come and stay with us for a few days?’
‘I would rather go home.’ His aunt lowered her glasses.
And I would rather you went home too, Eduardo thought. ‘I know that, but your consultant thinks it’s best that you not be on your own for a few days. You’ve been in hospital for more than two weeks and you’ll be weaker than you think.’
‘Very well, you may take me back to your apartment. I’ll recuperate for a week.’ Beatriz spoke as though she was doing him the favour. ‘Now I want you to get me three boxes of LuXocolat chocolate strawberries and three gift cards, for the staff and dinner ladies, and bring them with you when you come to collect me.’
‘Of course.’ He scribbled a note in the slim notelet pad he carried in his inside pocket and stood up. ‘I have meetings to attend. I must go.’ He leaned down and kissed his aunt’s soft, unlined cheek. He was so tempted to say that he must also ring Gabriel and cancel his trip down south because of her, but he restrained himself.
‘Gracias,’ she murmured, picking up her paper again, and once again he felt ignored, and furious that she’d not acknowledged that he’d taken time off work to come and meet with her consultant.
And does she think that I don’t work, and that I have time to go shopping for chocolates as well as spending half the morning waiting to talk to her specialist? he seethed, paying his parking charges and striding along the rows of cars until he came to his own black BMW. The traffic was heavy and that made him even more irritable.
His BlackBerry beeped, indicating he had a text, while he was sitting idling at traffic lights. He clicked on to it and was sorry that he had.
Eduardo, do you think there is any need for me to fly over to see Beatriz? Is her illness serious? She assures me it isn’t but I’m concerned. Mama X
Eduardo’s lips thinned. He’d no wish to have his mother flying over to Madrid from the States to see her sister. It would mean he’d have to offer to put her up, and he’d have to spend time with her. That was something he had no desire to do. His relationship with his mother was strained at the best of times. He sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the lights to change. A child, a young boy of about seven gambolled across the street ahead of his mother who was pushing a buggy. Carefree, lively, he chatted animatedly to the young woman, who smiled at his capers.
He’d been like that young fellow once, Eduardo thought sadly. Until he’d been abandoned by his parents to the care of Tía Beatriz.
‘Don’t go there,’ he muttered. ‘The past is the past.’ He began texting.
No need to travel, Madre – he never called his mother Mama – Beatriz is recovering very well. If I feel it is necessary for you to come I’ll
let you know. Gracias.
Polite but to the point, and he was subtly letting his mother know that he was in control of when she would be allowed to visit her sister and abandoned son. The lights changed and he drove off, averting his eyes from the young mother who was ruffling her little boy’s hair affectionately.
By the time Eduardo arrived at his office his mother was banished to the back of his mind where he preferred her to reside, undisturbed.
‘Luciana, would you organize to have three boxes of these chocolates and three gift cards bought for me for tomorrow please. This is the brand name.’ He dropped his scribbled note onto his secretary’s desk. ‘Who have we next?’
‘The Chavez Janssen apartment sale. All parties are in Room Four.’
‘Ah yes, the Dutch couple buying in Chamberi.’ He took the file and flicked through it. Everything was in order. And the bank draft was made out to the sellers. Not that he would give any indication that this was so. Eduardo liked keeping the clients and their representatives on edge until the last moment.
He straightened his shoulders, flicked some imaginary dust off his lapel and prepared to make his entrance. This was his favourite moment in his working day. He strode down the corridor and stepped briskly into Room 4. The polite chitchat between the buyers, sellers and their brokers stopped and an expectant hush descended on the people sitting at the long rectangular table. Eduardo savoured this energy change, this unspoken acknowledgement that someone important had entered the room. He, the notary, without whom either side could neither sell nor buy. He held the power of yea or nay. Eduardo revelled in the formality of it all. He enjoyed seeing clients also in his splendid, oak furnished office, watching their reactions to his sombre, measured tones as he literally laid down the law.
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