Masquerade (43 page)

Luz had spent hours in her bath, washing her hair and buffing her body, rubbing deliciously scented oils and creams into it to make her skin even silkier than it already was. Andrés had once commented that she had such pretty feet, so she had gone out and bought a new pair of gold lamé sandals, which she was wearing tonight. She wore a soft, lightweight, summer mini-dress with with an all-over design of vibrant, abstract swirls, a heavy ruffle hem and low-scooped bodice and back. The wide peacock-coloured cuff encircling her slender wrist was eye-catching, though of no great value.

She tried to rehearse what she would say, anticipating his answers, playing various scenarios over in her mind. What if Andrés admitted that he was actually engaged to Adalia, that what he and Luz had shared in the past few weeks was a casual affair that would have to end once he had pronounced his marriage vows? She could not bear to think of the misery it would cause her. Never had she known such happiness as in those times they had spent together. Life without him was inconceivable.

Still, where was he tonight? Luz glanced at her watch. He was never late. It was past eight o’clock; he had been invited for seven-thirty. She went to the front door and opened it. Maybe she had not heard the bell ring. She walked to the gate. Her eyes pierced the distance, looking for his convertible. Maybe he’d forgotten they were meeting? Unease began to rise. Should she ring him? Pride killed that idea; she would not cheapen herself by running after him. Adalia’s spiteful words had poisoned her mind and all sorts of misgivings had crept into it.

Time marched on. She was getting edgier by the second. Maybe he had been held up by traffic or work? Surely he would have called, though? He was very particular about such things and punctuality was important to him. She smiled as she remembered his comment the day of her first interview. Maybe he had fallen asleep in his bath. Maybe, maybe, maybe … maybe he was not coming.

The clock struck ten; the phone rang. Luz ran to answer it, nearly tripping over in her mad rush, but it was her mother telling her they had finished their work in Granada somewhat earlier than planned and would be coming down to Cádiz the next day. Alexandra didn’t mention Agustina nor the fact that she was aware of Luz’s visit to El Pavón, but Luz knew the old housekeeper and her parents only too well. She had no doubt the
duenna
had been in touch with them and that they, the loving parents they had always been, were now rushing to be by their daughter’s side.

Night had fallen. The nearly full moon shone in a broad silver path across the calm sea. Across the water Puerto de Santa María, with its twinkling windows and lit church steeple, now lay fully luminous in the streaking shadows of clouds, like a silent poem of colour and light in the deep brooding darkness. Luz often found it a captivating sight at this hour but, this evening, the town’s nocturnal magic merely seemed distant and excluding. She found herself pacing up and down the moon-flooded garden in the soft night air, from the iron gate to the front door, on to the terrace and back again. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her ears subconsciously straining to catch the sound of his car or the telephone ringing.

At one o’clock in the morning Luz had to accept that Andrés was neither coming nor was he going to call her. Sapped of energy, she went to her room, undressed slowly and crept into bed. In spite of the cool breeze that came through the window she felt stifled, hemmed in, too weary to sleep and too numb to feel anger or any other emotion. Perhaps she had always been waiting for something to punish her for her reckless desires and disprove the truth of her happiness.

Now that hovering dread eased its cold fingers into her soul, she gave herself up to her deepest fears, raking over the past months. Had Andrés ever truly loved her? He had only said the words while making love to her. Maybe they didn’t count. He had neither made any promises nor had he asked her to commit to anything. They had enjoyed a day-to-day, carefree relationship. Had all the dreams, the plans she dared to make about him during the past weeks, been one-sided? She questioned everything miserably but it all seemed confused and unreal. What a mess; her head ached. How could she have walked twice into the same trap? She was full of vain regrets for Leandro and overwhelmed with longing for Andrés. Both had used her and then swept her aside without a second thought.

A lump rose in her throat and her eyes misted with a sudden rush of tears that she fought back. It was useless to cry now. Even though there was so much she still did not understand, she must forsake all those naïve dreams and look to her future instead. Perhaps it was inevitable that she and Andrés would have to part for good. She shuddered at the thought. Despite Adalia’s put-down she had still planned to be with him at his party at El Ecrin. Now she could not see herself turning up at his home for the first time, not knowing if he wanted her or not, with the added possibility that she might be humiliated among all those people, including Adalia. Finally, her mind exhausted and her body weary from tossing and turning, she fell into a dreamless deep sleep.

Luz woke very late with a headache. Memories of the previous day flooded back, with all their attendant pain and hurt. Frustration at her own stupidity overwhelmed her. She rolled over, hid her face in her pillow and sobbed bitterly. After a few moments the door opened slowly. Luz looked up through a haze of tears to see her mother entering the room with a cup of steaming chocolate, which she placed on the bedside table. Alexandra perched on the side of the
bed, took one look at her daughter and held out her arms. Luz leaned into her mother’s embrace, hugging her tightly, her tears now spent.

‘Agustina telephoned us, and your father and I arrived in the early hours of this morning,’ Alexandra explained, gently offering her daughter a handkerchief to dry her tears, ‘before Carmela had a chance to clear the table,’ she added pointedly.

Luz glanced at her mother, whose expression of grave concern was mixed with the tender patience of maternal curiosity. Her parents, having noticed the table still laid with candles for a romantic dinner, wine standing in the cooler, the food lying in the kitchen, untouched, would have known what conclusions to draw.

Salvador appeared in the doorway and came over to his daughter. Leaning down, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.

‘
Niña
, how are you?’

She smiled weakly. ‘I’m fine,
Papá
, really. I’m glad you’re both here.’

‘So who has made my little girl so unhappy?’ Salvador asked, settling himself in a chair as he gave his wife a meaningful glance, which didn’t escape Luz’s notice.

‘How much have you guessed?’ she asked with a sigh, leaning back against the pillows and eyeing them both apprehensively.

Alexandra placed a comforting hand on Luz’s knee. ‘We guessed that you’ve been seeing Don Andrés since the charity ball at the Yacht Club. You seemed happier than we’ve ever seen you, and then we got this call from Agustina and knew that something had happened …’ She glanced at her husband. ‘And we know that Adalia Herrera set about to create mischief between you both.’

Luz stared at her mother, not knowing where to begin. ‘She said so many things about Andrés and me … and about you and
Papá
. I know it was all hideous lies,’ she added quickly as she saw her mother’s face darken with anxiety.

‘Luz, we will explain everything to you, I promise,’ said Alexandra, intent eyes never leaving her daughter’s face, ‘We had our reasons for not talking about certain things in the past.’

Salvador nodded. ‘Your mother’s right, but there’s plenty of time later to deal with all that. For now, what is more important is finding out what has caused you such distress.’

Just having her parents there cheered Luz immensely and she felt a weight lift from her chest, no longer having to keep secrets from them. She drank her hot chocolate and slowly told them about Adalia’s visit. They both listened without interrupting until she had finished.

‘Are you sure you love this man?’ Salvador asked when there was obviously nothing more for her to tell.

‘Yes,
Papá
,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.’

‘And he loves you?’

‘He obviously doesn’t, judging by his cavalier treatment of me. He didn’t even have the courtesy to ring and apologize.’

‘Umm … not necessarily true.’ Salvador scratched his chin as he got up and paced the room. ‘If the lion bares his teeth, don’t assume he is smiling. Things are not always what they seem, you must know that,
querida
.’

Alexandra sighed. Luz could see her mother was deeply upset. ‘If this woman is as wicked as her aunt, then God preserve us!’

Salvador frowned and looked at his wife. ‘Simple,’ he said. ‘If Luz loves him, she must confront him.’

Luz, however, did not seem convinced. ‘What about my pride? I’m not going to run after him,’ she said grimly.

Salvador shrugged. ‘Pride … pride … What about your pride,
niña
? Either you want this man or you don’t, there are no two ways about it.’ He looked at his wife. ‘Don’t you think,
querida
?’

‘Don’t look at me. I’m the last one to give advice on that front,’ Alexandra said, shaking her head. ‘I made such a mess of things and nearly lost you with my foolishness. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of Doña Inez, you would have never known the truth and I’d be still in England, pining for you.’

Salvador slanted a mischievous smile at Alexandra before turning to his daughter. ‘You see? Your mother admits that her
English pride nearly got the better of her. There is no sense in anyone staying in bed and crying for love,’ he told her, an inflexion of indulgent humour in his voice as he gazed at her anxious face. ‘You agree,
niña
?’

Luz nodded and smiled up at her father. ‘I guess so, but I’m not quite sure how to go about it.’

‘Have you rung his office?’ Alexandra enquired softly. ‘He might still be away.’

Luz looked a little sheepish and caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘No, not yet,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never rung him at work before. I feel a little awkward doing it, especially with the situation being what it is.’

‘He seemed a perfectly reasonable young man with excellent manners. I can’t imagine him behaving so discourteously, even if he doesn’t want to see you any more. I don’t think you should cross your bridges before you come to them,’ Alexandra told her daughter.

‘Listen to the voice of wisdom,
niña
. As usual, your mother sees the sensible way forward.’ He gestured with his head towards Alexandra and made a show of lowering his voice. ‘Well, at least now that she’s grown out of her young “foolishness”.’ He grinned broadly at his wife, who merely cocked an amused eyebrow. ‘Your words,
querida
, not mine.’

But Luz had no time to reply as there was a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ she called out. It was Carmela bearing a huge bunch of flowers. ‘Oh, red roses,’ Luz gasped as she leapt out of bed and ran to take them from the housekeeper. The last time she had received some, they had been from Andrés.

‘I’m sorry, Doña Luz,’ said Carmela, her hand resting contritely on her ample bosom.
‘Madre de Dios!
I gave the delivery boy a clip round the ear. These are a day late,’ she explained. ‘That boy has the face of an angel but the brain of an ass,’ she muttered as she hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.

With trembling hands, Luz unfastened the small envelope attached to the cellophane and impatiently tore it open. The typewritten note
was brief and to the point: ‘So sorry – I will have to miss dinner tonight. I have been unavoidably held up. I’ll see you at my birthday party at El Ecrin on Saturday night. With my best regards.’ It was signed Andrés de Calderón. Luz was a little disappointed. He had obviously not written it himself, no doubt leaving it to his secretary to send this rather formal note on his behalf. Still, the flowers came as a huge relief and now she would be able to attend the party on Saturday without being dogged by the fear that he had somehow cast her off without a word of explanation.

Nonetheless Luz still felt uneasiness in her bones; she sensed something was not quite right. Why had he not rung her instead of sending her this bland note? It seemed the obvious thing to do. When she aired her misgivings, Alexandra was sanguine.

‘“Absence carries its reasons,” goes the Moorish saying,’ she said. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, it’s one of Agustina’s favourite sayings.’ She laughed lightly. ‘Those endless proverbs used to irritate me but some of them are very wise. Your Andrés may have a perfectly good reason and he will tell it to you in due course.’

Luz gave the roses another thoughtful sniff. ‘What do you think,
Papá
?’

Salvador smiled indulgently at his daughter, shook his head and left it at that.

‘Papá!’
Luz prompted.

‘Do as your mother tells you, give the man a chance to explain. If the explanation doesn’t convince you, then we’ll rethink.’

The few days between then and Saturday stretched uncomfortably for Luz; she half expected Andrés to appear at the front door at every moment. Why should he not? After all, he owed her an explanation and this silence was unnatural. The roses, the note, had only gone a small way to allay her fears. He was forever in her mind, her emotions on a constant seesaw. Treacherous voices whispered
and hinted, infiltrating her heart with unpleasant doubts. She swayed from being elated, on the one hand, in anticipation of seeing him again, to melancholy on the other. It was the thought of Adalia’s place in his life that kept creeping insidiously into her mind. Clearly they had a business relationship; after all, he had introduced her and Lorenzo as his partners. But so much suggested that their bond did not end there: the way he had let himself be monopolized by her at La Fortaleza and all those other little private, personal signs more eloquent than words. But if they had been intimately involved in the past, were they still? In Andrés’ mind, was Adalia the future wife and Luz some sort of stop-gap mistress, as the socialite had implied?