Authors: Hannah Fielding
Luz went over to the window so her mother could not read her eyes, which did not know how to lie. ‘No, I’m fine, really,
Mamá
. I just need a good night’s sleep,’ she replied, giving her slow smile.
‘She’s been working too hard,’ Salvador declared as he came over to his daughter and hugged her. She lifted her head up to receive his kiss. Her father was a tall, handsome man with a fierce love for his one and only daughter that meant that he could be quickly moved to worry over any matter concerning her. He regarded Luz fondly, keeping an arm around her. ‘It’s this job you want so badly. I’ve told you that with one call to Santiago de Calderón, the father of the young man who’ll be interviewing you, I could get you hired. We haven’t seen each other for a while but he’s an old friend. It would make everything so much easier for you.’
‘That’s not the point,
Papá
,’ Luz protested. ‘I know you’re just trying to help, but you can’t protect me the whole time from what’s difficult. I need to do this myself. You know how I hate nepotism,’ she told him firmly.
‘Nepotism! Nepotism! You’re always going on about nepotism. What are parents for,
niña
, if it’s not to help their children?’ he countered, giving her a final squeeze and shaking his head. ‘You are one stubborn woman, just like your mother.’ At this Salvador glanced towards Alexandra, his eyes sparking with the same fire that had burned in them when the pair had first met.
His wife laughed as she fussed with some cushions on the sofa before sitting down. ‘Don’t look at me, I have nothing to do with this,’ she said.
Luz gently pulled away from her father and wandered over to the dining table. She plucked a ruby-coloured grape from the fruit bowl and bit into it. ‘By the way, talking of old friends, I met one of yours today,’ she ventured, only the slightest hesitation in her voice.
‘Yes?’ Salvador’s eyebrows shot up quizzically. ‘Who?’
‘Paquita, she said she was called. The gypsy fortune teller.’
At the name Alexandra paled, while Salvador looked towards Luz, then burst out laughing. ‘Paquita, eh? I’m surprised the old hag is still alive. She must be at least ninety. What has the witch been up to now?’
‘I met her on the beach, she recognized me. She said I had your eyes and my mother’s complexion,’ Luz told him. Now that she had this opportunity, perhaps she could unravel the mystery of her parents’ connection with the gypsies.
‘That’s very shrewd of her,’ Salvador said evenly.
‘What else did she say?’ Alexandra whispered. There was a light in her irises and a tremor in her voice that did not escape Luz.
Uneasily conscious of her mother’s eyes searching her face, Luz shrugged. ‘Nothing really, nothing of great interest.’ She tried to take on a bored expression as she pulled a small bunch of grapes from its stem. ‘Did she ever tell your fortune?’ she went on, keeping her tone light.
Salvador did not reply immediately. Absently, he drew a cigarette from the packet in his pocket and lit it. After inhaling a few puffs he went to sit next to his wife on the sofa.
‘
Niña
, you must understand that these people get good money to tell the future,’ he explained at length. ‘It’s a very ancient game and their old grandmothers taught them the words to say – it’s always the same thing. They don’t see any harm in feigning clairvoyance, they regard it as a respectable job. If
gajos
, as they call us, are naïve enough to believe their stories, more fool them.
‘Anyhow, I’d prefer it if you didn’t have any more to do with these nomads,’ he added, a sudden gravity in his voice. ‘They’re always up to tricks and can become unpleasant. Better to keep away.’
Luz laughed: ‘Don’t worry about me,
Papá
, I can look after myself. I’m very sensible, you know that. Besides I always manage to fall on my feet.’
She was about to ask whether he’d experienced this unpleasantness himself but then glanced sideways at her mother. Luz was struck by how tense she looked, her cheeks flushed pink. She had never seen
her look quite so agitated at the mention of gypsies. Even though Luz felt she was edging closer to something with her mention of Paquita, she sensed this was the wrong moment. Anyhow, if it also came out that the old woman had predicted Luz’s fate as one aligned with that of the gypsy, Leandro … Well, that was not a conversation she was ready to have. Reluctantly, she decided to change the subject, at least for now.
She smiled brightly and went to sit on the opposite sofa, tucking her bare feet under her. ‘In two days’ time I will have had my first interview for the Salazar job. Apparently, at this stage I’ll have to face a written examination followed, if I’m successful, by a panel of examiners at a later date before the final meeting with Andrés de Calderón, Eduardo de Salazar’s heir. I can’t wait! Have you met him,
Papá
?’
‘No, I haven’t, but I’ve heard much about him. His father, Santiago, spoke of him often. He’s energetic, travels a good deal and is certainly highly respected in society circles. He chairs Caldezar Corporación, SA, a family-owned business that started out producing olive oil. I’ve known people who’ve had dealings with the firm. Their holdings consist of olive groves and factories extending all over the Province of Cádiz. I’ve heard they’ve lately broken into the international market.’
‘Mmm … what a great success story Señor de Calderón is,’ Luz grinned playfully at her father. ‘He sounds like the sort of man even you would approve of,
Papá
.’
Salvador ignored his daughter’s ribbing. ‘What’s impressive is that under his own name he has also acquired some sort of testing laboratory that tries out new products and technologies before they are allowed to be released to the public, a kind of agent for new manufacturers around Europe. Just the sort of innovator the economy needs at the moment. Yes, a very enterprising young man, by all accounts.’
By now Alexandra looked a little more composed as she reached over for the jug of water on the coffee table and poured herself a glass. ‘I’ve heard that he’s quite eccentric in his testing of each product.’
‘Eccentric?’ Luz asked, popping another grape into her mouth. Suddenly this sounded more interesting.
‘Well, I’m not entirely sure,’ her mother conceded, ‘but apparently he likes to try out all the products himself, which is a little unusual for a man in his position, wouldn’t you say? His office is full of the latest things. Everyone had calculators in their drawers as soon as they were available, I’m told. And I’m sure he was one of the first people in Spain to try out Polaroid cameras. Now, of course, they’re all the rage.’
‘For someone who’s involved in the arts, I can see why photographic technology would interest him,’ said Luz. ‘Have you heard anything else about him,
Mamá
? The more I know before the interview, the better.’
‘He’s very handsome in a sultry sort of way,’ Alexandra continued. ‘I’ve seen him around. His heart’s in the right place, too – he’s on the board of a few charities. But from what I hear he leads a fast life, burning the candle at both ends, and has the reputation of being a bit of a womanizer.’ She raised a slightly disapproving eyebrow. Alexandra’s English roots were still discernible despite many years spent in Spain.
Salvador chuckled. ‘Like his uncle! Eduardo de Salazar never married – too dedicated to his career – but he was well known for his romantic adventures. We Spanish men are driven by our passions until we are tamed by the right woman.’ He winked at Luz as he leaned over to his wife, kissing her hand. Alexandra’s expression softened and she rolled her eyes.
Luz chuckled. ‘In which case a Spanish man had better beware of the tamer’s whip. Womanizers aren’t so very difficult to deal with.’
‘My little Luz, you are far too wise for your own good.’ Salvador laughed and took another puff of his cigarette. ‘By the way, I have tickets for the opening night of
Carmen
at the Gran Teatro Falla tomorrow, a new touring production,’ he announced. ‘The reviews have been excellent.’
Luz’s face lit up. ‘What a wonderful idea! We haven’t been for a while. I love that theatre, even though it’s a little tatty. I read there are plans to refurbish it by 1980.’
‘It’s high time they did something about it,’ her father replied. ‘I believe it’s one of the notable monuments of Andalucía, a lovely example of the neo-Mudéjar style. It’s important to keep our Moorish heritage alive.’ He stubbed out his cigarette and sighed. ‘Perhaps now we have a new king and the beginnings of a new government they will actually put their energies in the right places.’
‘Nothing’s certain at the moment, that’s true.’ Alexandra placed her hand on her husband’s. ‘You never know, perhaps it’s men like Andrés de Calderón, with his entrepreneurial spirit and international perspective, who are the future of Spain. The sort we need to give our beautiful cities a new lease of life.’
But Luz had ceased to listen by now and instead gazed dreamily out of the window at the sea. A trip to the theatre might be just what she needed as a distraction – though the irony that the opera would involve the tale of a beguiling gypsy was not lost on her.
* * *
A first night at the Gran Teatro Falla had a charm of its own. Standing in the Plaza Fragela in the north-west quarter of the Old Town, the grand and atmospheric theatre welcomed its visitors with beckoning mystery, like a magician inviting one to step back in time. The century-old coral brick building, with its distinctive red- and white-banded arches wrapped around three vast keyhole-shaped doorways, was filling up when they arrived. There was a festive atmosphere about the place and the lobby was buzzing with different languages. The audience was a mixed assortment of Spaniards and foreigners, an attractive, cheerful crowd made up of distinguished-looking men and women, all of them united by their love of opera.
As they walked in through the large arches of the main entrance, Luz was unaware of the effect her singular beauty was having on people. Men turned their heads as she passed and women threw her envious glances. She wore a blue, silk, full-length dress, which skimmed her body and moulded her form to perfection. Its deep
colour reflected in her large eyes, giving her irises a violet tint and setting off the radiant nature of her skin, which glowed even more warmly under her newly caught tan from the beach. The dress had a plunging neckline and a knotted bodice from which the skirt fell into a profusion of soft folds. A fabulous necklace cascading with different-sized gold beads hung down to her cleavage, ending in a cluster of small gems fashioned as grapes. She had teamed it with a matching pair of earrings and stiletto sandals. Her long raven-black hair was tonight worn loose to the hips and acted as a cloak around her naked shoulders. The whole effect was striking.
The theatre was horseshoe shaped; the de Ruedas stood in the large ground-floor foyer facing a handsome marble staircase that led to the stalls, the gallery, the mezzanine boxes and the upper floors of the widely curving auditorium. The decor was a sumptuous mixture of antiquated gold and claret, soft drapes and mouldings, though everything had faded somewhat with the passage of time.
Salvador and Alexandra knew almost everyone in Cádiz and they were soon joined by quite a few of their wide circle of friends. Luz had met many of them; the names and faces were familiar, but mostly they were family acquaintances she’d had little to do with, being so often away. As she was greeted by kisses and handshakes, Luz smiled politely and tried to take part in the small talk.
Suddenly, across the room, she caught sight of a figure standing with a group of young, smartly dressed men and women. The men wore black tie and the women were all in evening gowns and richly bejewelled. Though he stood with his back to her, something about his stance was vaguely familiar. His dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and, as he turned a little, the light from the chandelier fell obliquely on his profile, throwing into relief its chiselled lines. Luz paled and inwardly flinched.
Leandro?
Was it possible? What was he doing here?
Her mother’s hand on her arm jerked her back to reality. ‘We’d better take our seats. The theatre is crowded tonight and the performance will soon be starting. I hate queues.’ Alexandra frowned. ‘You looked strained, is everything all right, darling?’
‘Yes,
Mamá
, everything’s fine … I’m just a little worried about tomorrow’s test.’ Luz forced her features weakly into a smile. ‘I really do want this job very badly.’
Alexandra gave her daughter’s arm an affectionate squeeze. ‘You’ll do very well, as you’ve always done. Don’t worry, just try to relax and enjoy the show,’ she said.
‘Yes, of course,
Mamá
.’ She took a calming breath, then, when she looked up again, the little group of jetsetters had moved away.
The de Rueda family were ushered down the corridor to their box. The auditorium, like the rest of the theatre, was decorated in Moorish revival style, with ornate arches stretching along cream-coloured balconies, its boxes hung with red velvet curtains. Luz took her seat at the front of their box with her mother, while Salvador took his place at the back.
She tried to relax and enjoy the scene, tilting her head to gaze at the nineteenth-century ceiling fresco, Felipe Abárzuza’s vast allegory of Paradise, but she was fidgety. She felt like wandering around, but the thick velvet curtain had been pulled behind them and the padded doors were now closed; she would have to wait for the interval. Luz could not get the young man in the lobby out of her mind. She was not sure it was Leandro, he had been too far away, and though she’d had a brief glimpse of his profile she really couldn’t be certain. Besides, logic told her it didn’t make sense: what would a gypsy be doing among such a smart crowd? He looked so much at ease, too. She must have been mistaken.
The orchestra was tuning up in the pit. Luz rather liked the slightly cacophonic sound it made. After a while she picked up the small opera glasses on the side of her armrest and started to scan the crowd. The lights were dimming, and she was on the verge of putting them down when she breathed in sharply. She found herself looking directly into another person’s pair of binoculars, those of a man seated in the box opposite. Luz just had time to notice the slow smile that curled at the side of the stranger’s mouth before the place fell into darkness. The curtain lifted and the first notes of
Carmen
’s overture resonated in the vast auditorium.