Under the Spanish Stars (22 page)

‘
Gracias
.' Charlotte dutifully shoved an olive in her mouth, the bitter juice exploding on her tongue. Smiling, she said, ‘
Delicioso
.'

Pedro nodded his approval and hurried off to serve the ever-growing throng.

Leila looked around then directly at Charlotte. ‘I need your words.'

‘A promise?'

‘Yes.'

‘Anything you say will stay with me.' Charlotte resisted spitting on her finger and crossing her heart, unsure how that would go down with
gitano
tradition.

‘It is okay to mention to Mateo, I trust him like a brother, but no one else. Except for your
abuela
, of course.'

‘Okay,' Charlotte said, still unsure where Leila was going with this whole secret-squirrel business.

‘I have been working on the history of my clan.'

‘Doesn't that go against your beliefs?'

‘It goes against my clan's beliefs but not my personal ones. This is why I need to trust you.' Leila adjusted the cardigan on her narrow shoulders. ‘I will not say the name of the person we are talking about, there are some things I respect, but I believe for the future generations of my clan to exist in peace, remembering our history is important.'

‘But if you're making notes, how can you get away without mentioning names?'

‘It is complicated, but I manage. The artist, she was well-known outside the clan and was a little like me, a rebel.' She grinned. ‘The elite of Granada loved her art and invited her into their world. Like a little pet cat.'

‘That doesn't sound very dignified.' Could this really be Charlotte's great-grandmother they were talking about?

‘Times, they were different, yes? We do not know reasons for her actions.'

‘True. How do you know this?'

‘An anthropologist, every few years he tries to convince my clan to talk about our history but they always refuse. He and I meet in secret so he can
learn about the artist because she is of great interest to him.'

‘And also to the art historian at the university. She recognised her work instantly,' said Charlotte.

‘Yes, some paintings remain but only small parts of her life story exist. It is very strange your grandmother has her painting because the artist did not sell her work. When was your grandmother born?'

‘In 1920. Why?'

‘Interesting. It is around this time that the artist in my clan stopped painting. My clan has a favourite song that is a
siguiriyas
about sorrow and losing the passion to create because of losing two loves—young and old.'

‘Isn't a lot of flamenco about this?'

‘Yes, but this song always reminds me of this artist.'

‘Why?'

Leila shrugged. ‘I do not have the words to explain. I just feel a connection here.' She placed a clenched fist over her heart.

Charlotte placed her fingers around the glass of water, enjoying the coolness against her warm skin. ‘You're the second person today who thinks S—, that the artist has a connection to my grandmother.'

‘If there are two of us who believe this, then perhaps there is truth. Oh!' Leila grabbed Charlotte's arm and water spilled over the table. ‘Maybe we are related?'

‘I didn't think of that!' Delight rippled through Charlotte at the thought, then it was quickly quashed when she realised it meant she could also be related to Cristina. ‘Thank you for sharing and I promise, only Mateo and Abuela will know about this conversation.'

‘I hope I have been of help.'

‘Leila, you have been a wealth of information. Thank you.' Charlotte hugged the small-boned woman and wondered how on earth they could be related when their physical differences were so extreme.

‘They are about to start.' Leila cocked her head in the direction of Mateo, Cristina and the other performers.

Mateo caught them looking and he casually sauntered over to their table, guitar in his hand. Leaning in close to Charlotte, he said, ‘I will play
tangos gitanos
first. Listen and you will hear the roots from Africa and the Caribbean. You should try
palmas
with this, you know, the hand clap. It is two four-count sets with accents on the second, third and
fourth counts in the first set, then on the second
and
third, fourth in second set. Clap on the
and
also.'

‘It sounds complicated.'

‘Leila will help.' He nodded at Leila who grinned like the cat who got the cream.

Mateo went back to the group as an older woman joined them. They took their places on stage and the crowd quieted, as if sensing something magical was about to happen.

Mateo played a light tune, one she recognised as the
falseta
, the beginning of the song. His fingers moved with dexterity across the strings and his whole body engaged as the notes rose and fell in quick succession. Cristina let out a cry and stamped her foot, placing her balled hands on her hips. The older lady opened her mouth and a beautiful, strong voice reverberated around the room. Cristina's feet worked rapidly, the heels tapping out a complicated rhythm. Charlotte tried to listen for the beat Mateo had mentioned, but she got lost.

Leila started the
palmas
, keeping perfect rhythm with Cristina's footwork. Leila nodded at Charlotte but she shook her head, scared she'd make a fool of herself. The confidence she'd experienced at the community had disappeared and instead, insecurity had surfaced. It was especially strange because with this new knowledge of possible ties to
gitanos
, Charlotte would have thought she'd have had a stronger connection with flamenco.

Mateo's face glowed. A flutter of heat zapped through her. When he made love would his dark eyes shine, his gorgeous lips smile, and his fingers work magic like when he played flamenco?

Oh, god. This is getting out of control.

The singer started a new verse then Cristina commenced the lengthy footwork section. Mateo continued playing, watching Cristina with an eagle eye, working with her. As hostile as the woman had been, she had talent mixed with something else Charlotte couldn't name.

With a final flourish Cristina stamped her foot, held her head high, her arms forming a perfect arc. The audience shouted their appreciation, whistles hurtling across the room and piercing Charlotte's ears. The group launched into two more
palos
, neither of which Charlotte recognised, but she was content to take in the performance and ogle one very lovely flamenco guitarist.

The set finished, the audience roared again and the group took a break, standing at the bar and guzzling soft drink and water. Mateo and Cristina bent their heads together, deep in conversation.

‘What is Mateo's relationship with your sister?' Charlotte asked.

‘It is no more. She is dead.' Leila looked down at the table, a heavy cloud hanging above her.

‘Cristina?'

‘Oh!' Leila's lips morphed into a sad smile. ‘No, my other sister. She died some years ago.'

‘Mateo didn't mention you had another sister.' Which led Charlotte to wonder why he hadn't said anything. ‘I'm so sorry for your loss, Leila.'

‘Do not be sorry. Sometimes the world is cruel, yes? It takes away people who we want to stay forever.'

‘Very true.' Charlotte's mind turned to her grandmother in hospital. Spain might as well be on another planet, it seemed so far away from Australia.

‘I miss her every day,' Leila sounded wistful. ‘This is why I do not like this refusal to remember past loved ones. How can I forget my sister? She was my best friend and they want me to pretend she did not exist? It does not make the sense to me.'

‘This is why you want to do the family history?'

‘Yes.'

Charlotte looked over at Mateo who must have sensed her watching. His grin went all the way to his eyes.

‘I hope you can stay in Granada for longer,' said Leila.

‘I wish I could but I have to get back as soon as possible.' She'd already checked availability for flights home and they were wide open.

‘It is a shame you cannot stay but I understand. You have your life in Australia.'

‘Yes.' The word sounded strangled. She'd adapted to Granada like churros to chocolate sauce and it saddened her to think she'd have to leave it all behind, especially Mateo.

‘You know, this is the first time in years I have seen Mateo happy. He has the likes for you. Please, I hope you can visit another time soon.'

‘I hope so.' And she meant every word.

Mateo kissed Cristina on the cheek, shook hands with a few of the men, then sauntered over as she and Leila stood to greet him.

‘We have finished now. You have had a good night, yes?'

‘Wonderful, thank you.' A deep sympathy for Mateo and Leila overwhelmed her as she tried to comprehend the horrendous pain of losing a loved one.

Leila wrapped her arms tightly around Charlotte, pulling her close so she could whisper in her ear. ‘Even if we are not related, you are still a sister of my soul.'

‘Thank you.' Charlotte hugged her ally tightly before throwing money on the table for Pedro, who gave her a salute and a cheeky grin. Cristina had conveniently disappeared but Charlotte chose not to let it bother her. Now she had some clues about Mateo's story and his connection with the clan, she could understand Cristina's behaviour—as long as she didn't jump out of the shadows clutching sharpened knives.

‘You have been very quiet,' Mateo said as they crossed the road to reach her hotel. Although the night was warm, the street was deserted and devoid of the bright lights of the restaurants that had now shut for the night.

‘Sorry, I'm a little distracted.' Charlotte adjusted the shoulder strap of her handbag.

They halted at the base of the stairs to the hotel and Mateo gestured for her to go first. ‘Señorita.'

‘
Gracias
.' She moved past, then stopped to give him a peck on the cheek. ‘
Gracias
for everything.'

‘It is nothing.' He waved his hand in a nonchalant manner.

‘Really, Mateo, it means a lot. You've introduced me to people who have helped find parts of a puzzle I never knew existed. I really appreciate what you've done for me.'

‘How could I resist helping you?' His wide smile sucked her in once more.

‘How so?' she asked, trying to ignore the electricity zapping through her body at his nearness. If he made an advance, she wouldn't resist. Or maybe she shouldn't wait, maybe she should—

‘Charlotte Kavanagh, must I spell it out for you?'

‘Uh …'

‘Maybe this will help you comprehend.' He leant in and hovered for what seemed an eternity. She inched closer and Mateo pressed his lips against hers, folding her into his strong arms. She tilted her head back, his warm body sliding against hers. Bliss washed over her as she melted into his embrace, wishing the moment would last forever.

Mateo gently pulled back.

‘Wow,' she breathed, a little unsteady on her feet.

‘How is your comprehension now?' He moved closer again.

‘I'm comprehending very well, thank you.' She placed her hand on his chest. ‘There's just one thing.'

‘
¿Sí?
' He tried to kiss her but she squiggled away.

‘Cristina …' She didn't say anything more because she instantly regretted opening this can of worms. Charlotte glanced at the doorman and receptionist inside her hotel. They didn't bother hiding their interest in the goings-on between their guest and Mateo. ‘Maybe we should discuss this inside.'

‘This is some devious plan to get me into your room, yes?' He winked.

‘No!' It came out with more force than she'd intended.

He held his hands in the air as if defending himself. ‘I was making the joke.'

‘Sorry. Come on.'

They climbed the steps and the doorman rushed forward, opening the door. Charlotte smiled her thanks, not meeting the doorman's eyes, and they made their way to the elevator, all the while a nervous energy zapping through her system. Entering the lift, they stood shoulder to shoulder, their fingers entwined, the small space filled with … something. Lust? By the way her skin had grown so sensitive, she suspected this was the case.

The lift doors parted and they walked to her room, stopping out front while she swiped the key card. It clicked green and she turned to him and said, ‘Don't worry about the Cristina stuff. It's none of my business.'

‘It is obvious you feel it is. I am okay with this.' He trailed his hand down the side of her face. ‘My book, it is open.'

‘That's not the case with most people.'

Moving into the room she was grateful she'd covered up the painting earlier that day as she didn't want Mateo to see the object that had caused her so much internal conflict.

Mateo sat on the bed and rested his hands behind him. She doubted it was a ploy to get her to jump on him as he didn't appear to be the kind of guy who resorted to such tactics but, man, seeing him on that mattress—

‘Now, about this reference to Cristina …' Mateo raised an eyebrow.

Deliberately sitting on the chair instead of the bed, she said, ‘I've just figured out why she doesn't like me. She's just being protective and I
totally understand.' Charlotte wished she would keep her gob shut. ‘Don't listen to me, I'm just waffling.'

‘Ah,' Mateo drew his brows together, his smile disappearing. ‘Leila told you of Alicia.'

‘I didn't know her name and I don't know the story. I only know you lost someone you cared about. I'm just … sorry, Mateo.'

‘Sorry for what? Her dying was not the fault of you.'

‘I'm sorry that we're now talking about this. I don't want you to feel sad.'

‘I am sad for her a lot of the time, but I have learnt to live with this feeling. It has been four years and like Leila, I miss Alicia every day, but I cannot change what is meant to be. Unfortunately, the time for Alicia on this earth was very short.' His voice held great sorrow but he appeared to want to talk.