Lions Walk Alone

by Susanna Firth

  'I suppose not.' Nita's tone was carefully neutral.

  'So tell me, how is he?'

  'Fine. Busy doing what he enjoys most in the world— empire-building. I haven't seen a great deal of him lately.'

  'That's a pity.' Maria gave her a shrewd look. 'I saw his picture in the paper. It was your father's hotel group that he took over, wasn't it?'

  'Yes.'

  Maria seemed inclined to pursue the subject, in spite of Nita's clear reluctance to discuss it. 'You know, when I saw the two of you together I hoped something was going to come of it.'

  'Something did—mutual dislike,' Nita assured her.

  'That I don't believe.'

  'It's true,' Nita said tautly.

  'Would it help to talk about it?'

  Nita hesitated, then shook her head. 'No, Maria, it wouldn't. Thank you all the same.'

  The other girl looked upset. 'If there's anything I can do, you will say, won't you?'

  'Only one thing. Help me to forget that a man called Leon Calveto ever existed.'

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nita suspected that Maria must have had a quiet word with her husband on the subject of her feelings for Leon, and she was grateful to them both for the tact that they displayed. In the days that followed his name was never mentioned and her new friends did all they could to keep her occupied, plunging her into a whirl of activity, clearly designed to give her barely time to draw breath, let alone brood.

  It was a strategy that worked to a limited degree. Maria was a lively companion and Nita enjoyed seeing the town through her eyes and hearing her often irreverent comments about its inhabitants. Dutifully she took Nita to the usual tourist sights; the grim, fortress-like cathedral, the governor's palace, with its beautiful paintings, and the Museum of Archaeology, housed in one of the gracious, turn-of-the-century buildings that lined the Paseo de Montejo. But she obviously preferred showing off the things that gave her pleasure; the numerous shady gardens that were dotted all over Merida and the markets, a never-ending source of delight for her.

  'Emilio swears that all his profits go straight into the pockets of the market traders,' she told Nita with an impish grin. 'But I do so enjoy poking about here, and it's awfully hard to go home without falling for something. There's always something new. Look over there.' She grabbed Nita's arm. 'Those brooches on that stall!'

  Nita followed her gaze. Displayed on a piece of black velvet, the brightly jewelled objects seemed to her eye to be moving about. 'They're not alive, are they?'

  'Of course they're alive. They catch beetles and the like and stick shiny stones on their backs. You're meant to wear them on your lapel.'

  Nita watched in horrified fascination. 'Not for me. Suppose it crawled down your neck by mistake?'

  'They can't. They're tethered by tiny chains attached to the brooch pin.'

  'Rather you than me,' Nita shuddered. 'Anyway, I'm sure it's cruel.'

  'I can see Emilio's face if I bought one,' Maria giggled. 'Well, perhaps not. What about something else to wear? One of those embroidered huipiles? That one with the red embroidery would look wonderful on you.' She dashed over to examine the dress more closely and Nita followed her, smiling at her enthusiasm and the stallholder's swift approach in anticipation of a sale.

  In some ways Maria reminded her very much of Sandy, although her friend in Miami was a good deal younger. Both were impulsive and endlessly talkative. Both were generous to a fault and good-humoured. And, like Sandy, Maria had a zest for life and determination to wring the last drop of pleasure she could get out of it.

  Of course it must be easy to be happy and carefree when you had all that Maria had—a lovely home, servants to look after it, money in the bank, a doting husband and now the prospect of achieving the one thing that had so far been denied her, a healthy child to complete the picture. Nita envied her from the bottom of her heart, however much she tried not to.

  Possessions didn't matter. But what wouldn't she give to have a marriage like Maria's, a teasing, laughing partnership full of genuine liking as well as love? Emilio had been Maria's first boy-friend.

  'I made up my mind that I was going to marry him the day that I met him,' she confided to Nita on one occasion. 'I was only fifteen then. It was lucky that he felt the same way that I did and waited for me to grow up a little, or I don't know what I would have done.'

  'You'd have got him in the end.'

  'I expect so,' Maria agreed shamelessly. 'Even if I'd had to stick any number of daggers in the competition. I always think you can get anything you want if you set your mind to it and try hard enough.'

  'Perhaps.'

  It depended, of course, on what you wanted. And Nita was beginning to doubt whether any amount of concentrated effort would block out the memory of what Leon had been to her. What he still was. Try as she might to think about other things, there seemed to be reminders of him at every turn. A tall man with broad shoulders and just Leon's confident stride, who stopped her in her tracks in the middle of the square, until he turned his head and revealed a coarse-featured face, pitted with acne scars. A low-timbred voice, heard in a shop while she was waiting to be served. She had whipped round quickly, only to come face to face with a total stranger.

  Her imagination hadn't played tricks on her like this when she had split up with Antonio. And she had loved him. Or had she? She was beginning to doubt it now. She had cried when he had disillusioned her; how she had cried! But, looking back, Nita thought now that a lot of her tears had been because of her own hurt pride, not for any other reason. There hadn't been this awful feeling of black despair, of deprivation.

  At night Nita tossed and turned on the narrow guestroom bed and tried to come to terms with the situation. But she woke in the morning only to the knowledge that she had failed. She didn't know how much of her private anguish Maria and Emilio guessed at. Certainly she made every effort to behave in their company like an appreciative guest who was enjoying her stay enormously.

  She caught Maria's eye on her occasionally in a thoughtful fashion, but the other girl said nothing. A couple of times Nita was tempted to take up her offer of a sympathetic ear for her problems, but she decided in the end that it wasn't fair to involve her. After all, Leon was a friend of many years' standing and she had only just got to know them. If Maria believed her story, it would mean divided loyalties for her. If she didn't, it would mean the end of their new friendship, and that was the last thing that Nita wanted.

  So she threw herself more vigorously into trying to enjoy life. She could have spent an agreeable time wandering through the narrow streets, alone or in Maria's company. But there were other options open.

  'Why not come out with me on a couple of trips?' Emilio offered. 'There's always a spare seat going on the bus, even if we're fully booked. That is, if you don't mind hugging the first-aid box to you. It usually sits on a little bucket seat at the back.'

  'I'd love to. But if Maria—'

  'Maria wouldn't come if you paid her. She'll stay at home and rest, just like the doctor ordered. She's been doing a little too much dashing around lately,' Emilio decreed.

  'Tyrant!' Maria pulled a face, but complied willingly enough. 'Clambering about old ruins and the like isn't my idea of a good time,' she told Nita. 'I get hot and tired and very bored. And Emilio is so terribly thorough. I'm sure most of the other tour operators do a quick round of the points of interest and leave the tourists to it while they retire to the nearest place where they can get a cool drink and a rest. But not my husband!' She threw him an affectionate glance. 'He has to give a lecture on each individual stone.'

  Emilio only grinned, taking her teasing in good part. 'Some people prefer it that way—and just be thankful they do. They go home and recommend me to their friends, and that's why business is booming.'

  'Emilio's going to expand next season,' said Maria, proud of her husband's achievement. She chuckled, looking down at her still slender figure. 'I told him, I'm expanding this year and you can
do it next.'

  So, along with Emilio's paying customers, Nita marvelled at the ancient ruins of Uxmal and Chichen Itza, climbing to the top of pyramids just as high and splendid as those that she had seen at Teotihuacán. Only this time there was no tall striding figure by her side. At least the underground caves at Balancanche didn't bring back any memories—they were a new experience and one that Nita enjoyed.

  'Aren't those masses of stalactites coming down from the roof of the cave fantastic?' she exclaimed in amazement to one of her fellow travellers, a stout German woman.

  The woman only grunted and said with an anxious expression on her plain, broad face, 'I wonder I can get out in safety. Coming in, I stick to the sides.'

  Nita sympathised. Some of the passages were a bit cramped. Thank goodness she'd never had a weight problem!

  She told her father about the incident when she made one of her regular phone calls home to him, and he laughed. 'You sound as if you're having a good time out there.'

  'Terrific!' she lied dutifully. 'One of these days I'll drag you out here for a holiday. It's beautiful, and every morning when I wake up the sun's shining—at least it has done so far.'

  But Diego wasn't sold on the idea. 'Give me a good healthy smog any day of the week,' he told her. 'I'd be lost without it.'

  She deliberately prolonged the conversation, hoping he might drop a stray remark about Leon, tormenting herself by wondering what he was doing. Had he been seen round the town with a new woman, or was Mercedes back in evidence? Her father didn't seem inclined to mention him and she was too conscious that her voice might betray her if she asked about Leon directly. Besides, how did one ask that sort of question? She led up to the subject by a side route.

  'How's the business going under the new management?'

  'Don't tell me you're actually interested?'

  'Shouldn't I be?' she forced a laugh. 'Perhaps I'm developing new hobbies at last in my old age. After all, I'll be twenty-three next birthday.'

  Diego chuckled knowingly. 'That's not the reason, is it? I understand perfectly well why you're asking, so don't try and pull the wool over my eyes.'

  'You do?' she stammered. Was her love for Leon so transparent?

  'It's good of you, Nita, to pretend that you care about the sort of things that I'm keen on, just because you think I like talking about it all, and I probably don't get many opportunities to discuss it now. But you don't have to picture me at home, pining for it all.'

  'I don't?' she said, only relieved that he had picked the wrong reason for her query.

  'As a matter of fact, now the pressure's off, I'm rather enjoying myself. I was in Cuernavaca last week, looking at a development for a block of holiday homes—and you know, I haven't had such a good time in ages. Of course, it was someone else's money I was spending—'

  'What do you mean?' she asked him sharply. 'Papa, you aren't starting up in business again?'

  'Of course not. Relax!' her father told her. 'Oh well, the secret's out. I said to Leon how it would be when you got to know about it.'

  'About what? Are you working on something together?' Nita was bewildered.

  'After a manner of speaking. Leon's always wanted me to stay on in an advisory capacity when he took over. He said he'd like to be able to call upon my experience from time to time. I told him the last thing that he wanted was his predecessor poking his nose in, but he insisted—made it a condition of the contract. It's a non-executive role, of course, but it'll stop me going completely to seed.' Her father's tone was offhand, but he sounded pleased nevertheless. 'I knew you would only start worrying as to whether I'd be able to handle it, so I kept quiet about it all and told Leon to do the same.'

  'Did you indeed?'

  'I was going to tell you eventually. I suppose it would have come out in the end. I didn't like deceiving you.' Diego's tone was faintly wheedling. 'I'm not going to overdo it, Nita, I promise you that, but I have to do something. Can you see me watching television all day long? I'd be dead from boredom inside six months!'

  'I suppose so,' she allowed.

  'Then I've got your blessing?' he asked.

  'If it'll make you happy. Not that I don't know that you'd go ahead regardless of anything I said about it.'

  'Maybe,' her father conceded. 'But I wouldn't enjoy it, believe me.'

  'And you'll take care?'

  'Of course. I want to live to see my grandchildren, don't I?'

  He'd better plan on living for a good few years yet, in that case, Nita decided as she put the phone down at last. The way she was feeling at the moment about love and marriage, it looked like being an age before she contemplated anything of the kind. If ever.

  She frowned. So Leon had insisted on engaging her father's services. She wondered why. If it had been anyone else, the reason might have been obvious. But not with Leon.

  'Problems at home? Your father is all right, isn't he?' Maria asked, noticing her preoccupation.

  'Yes, he's fine, thanks.'

  'So? What are you looking so worried about?'

  'He's just told me he's working again.' Nita explained the situation as briefly as she could.

  'You're worried that he'll overdo it?'

  'No. I think he's got enough sense now not to do that.'

  'Then what's the matter?' asked Maria.

  'I was wondering why Leon had done it. There must be any number of people he could call upon to advise him—younger, fitter people than my father. If he needs advice, that is. Personally, I'd have thought he was the last person in the world to depend on other people's opinions.'

  'You're probably right there.'

  'Then why has he done it?' Nita sighed.

  'I imagine he was being kind. He knew what it would do to your father to let go completely, so he's given him a chance to keep his hand in. It's the sort of thing that Leon would do.'

  'Kindness is the last quality that I'd attribute to him,' Nita said with a snort of disbelief. 'He's utterly ruthless!'

  'Is he? Perhaps you don't know him as well as you think you do.'

  'Don't I?'

  'I don't know what went wrong between you, Nita, and I'm not going to pry, so don't worry.' There was a note of censure in Maria's voice. 'But don't ever try and tell me that Leon Calveto isn't one of the most generous men around. Five years ago, when Emilio was going through a very bad patch with the business, Leon gave us all the help he could.'

  'He's a rich man. He can afford it.'

  'Not just money,' Maria said quietly. 'Although he lent us as much as we needed and offered more, with no immediate prospect of getting it back. But, more important, he gave us his time and made every effort to put business our way. Things picked up, thank God, and we were able to get back on our feet again. We paid back the money. But we'll always owe him for the support he gave us when we needed it.'

  'Emilio's a friend of his,' Nita reminded her. 'I expect he was glad to help—'

  'As glad as he was to help quite a few other people who've been in similar situations, who weren't friends of his. Leon himself would be the first to tell you that he's no plaster saint. He's got his faults—we all have. But he's not as black as you're painting him.'

  'I'm sorry,' Nita said stiffly. 'I shouldn't have—'

  'I'm sorry too.' Maria looked contrite. 'I didn't mean to lecture you. My tongue runs away with me sometimes.'

  'It's all right, I understand.'

  'Do you?' Maria hesitated, then put her hand on Nita's and squeezed it sympathetically. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. But I meant every word of it. Think about it, will you? Maybe you got a few wires crossed somewhere along the line.'

  'Maybe.' Nita preferred to drop the subject. 'Tell me, did you buy that filigree necklace that you were raving about? The one that you saw at the little silversmith's shop near the market?'

  Maria accepted the lead she was given. Perhaps she thought she had said enough for the moment. 'I'm still dithering. Tomorrow you must come with me and
have a look at it, then you can tell me what you think.'

  And so the rest of the evening passed with both girls carefully avoiding any further discussions of a serious nature. Emilio came home from the office with tales of woe about a difficult party of tourists which had them in gales of unsympathetic laughter, and dinner, which might have been an awkward affair if Maria had chosen to pursue the subject of Leon, was a relaxed, fairly hilarious occasion.

  But, later, as Nita prepared for bed, she found herself going over the conversation again. Was Maria right? Had she misjudged Leon? Mercedes had certainly told her a likely tale and one which she had rushed headlong to believe. But what if it wasn't true? Nita's mind reeled as she tried to grapple with the matter once again. Of course Mercedes wasn't an entirely disinterested party. Could she have lied?

  And if she had lied, what did it mean? That Leon had been genuinely interested in her, not merely as a tool to help him to a successful take-over, but as a person in her own right? Or did it? If he cared, he would have told her by now. Wasn't it more likely that he saw her just as an attractive body that he wouldn't mind possessing? She had said that to him when she had confronted him in his office and he hadn't denied it. He had just told her to go.

  Could she have been mistaken? After all, he had tried to talk to her later and she hadn't been prepared to listen to him. She argued round and round the subject until she didn't know what to believe any more.

  A photograph in the gossip column of one of the next day's papers went a long way to resolving her doubts. 'Calveto dances the night away,' the headline ran, and the accompanying piece went on to identify his escort at the nightclub as Mercedes—an unnecessary piece of information. Nita had already recognised the small figure clinging adoringly to him, her face alight with the glow of possession.

  So much for the possibility, however remote, that he might just have cared! Nita laughed. She must stop clutching at straws and face reality. Leon only spelled disaster, and the sooner she stopped tormenting herself, the better it would be for her.