Blood in the Valencian Soil (Secrets of Spain) (42 page)

“I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do. I know I’ve been pretty hesitant with you the whole time we’ve been together, but I do love you.”

“You agreed to love me, and marry me, even though you thought the baby was mine.”

Luna just shrugged with a smile.

“It shows how much you love me. Actions speak louder than words.”

“María has given you the best gift ever. Now, we can take the kids to the Three Kings parade at Plaza de Colon, knowing we are free to live our lives.”

“Freedom. We are free, our parents, our grandparents, finally, we
are all free of what hurts us.”

44

Madrid,
España ~ enero de 2010

Rebelión on
Dia de los Reyes Magos, Three Kings Day, was just as Luna expected. Dozens of people to meet, all eager to be introduced to the woman that the future patriarch of the family had been indulging in a private whirlwind relationship with. It was hard to keep up with all the names. José and Consuela Morales, in addition to Cayetano’s mother, Inés, had three sons, all married with children and grandchildren of their own, which resulted in a large family. It was Inés that Luna had to impress, and also her husband, Paco, who had been furious with Luna last time they met. But for today, everyone was in a warm mood, and the children were more than happy to play with the other children in the lavish home, which left Luna to try and settle into the notion of having an extended family.

“Taking a look at all our embarrassing moments, are you?”

Luna turned away from the family photos on the wall to see Cayetano’s sister, Sofía. “Not at all. They are terrific photos.”

“We are a crazy bunch, but you’ll get use
d to it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Just watch cousin Alonso. His wandering hands are the reason his wife left him. He works for Caya, so you will have to avoid him a lot.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“How are you? You must be wondering why you said yes to marrying my brother.”

Luna laughed. “He has his crazy moments, that’s for sure.”

“Caya was a mess without you, Luna. Really. My mother even called me to see if I could do anything to help him. My mother and I don’t get along at all. You have brought my parents back to speaking to me. Well, you, and María trying to pin a baby on Caya.”

“You all know about that?”

“Only me, and Mamá and Papá. That can fade away. I have to say, you have taken that well.”

“It’s a long complicated story. The result is that we can move on.”

“It’s none of our business. My family likes to hold grudges, so you will be a breath of fresh air.”

“Or they will hate me.”

“I doubt it. If Papá gives his approval of you, everyone will think you’re a gift from heaven. Paco is a hard man to please, but he raves about you.”

“He does?” Luna squinted when she said it.

“He does to me. I need to get myself another drink, family events are not my favourite thing, but I wanted to come and see you and Caya. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. Unless, you can find where Cayetano went?”

“He will be gossiping somewhere, I guarantee it,” Sofía said as she turned away. “He loves being the centre of attention.”

That was certainly true. Luna stood
and watched her children play in the middle of the room, quite happy to ignore all the adults around and mingle with the kids. She felt proud of them, speaking Spanish as fluently as they did. It had taken years of Fabrizio’s teaching her before she picked it up herself.

“Luna?”

She looked up to see Paco there, and she smiled. “Yes, Paco?”

“A moment?” He gestured for them to step through into the dining room, all quiet for now. “I was pleased to hear that you decided to return my mother’s diary, even if it didn’t give you any good news.”

“I got the truth, and I’m grateful to you and your mother for helping me. It has cost you a lot to help me out.”

“It shouldn’t have been so hard. I should have been more understanding of you and Caya from the beginning. I should have been more honest about the fact I knew who Scarlett was, but I didn’t. Can an old man admit he was wrong?”

“He can, but I wouldn’t expect him to.”

Paco smiled. “I can’t pretend that I haven’t caused you and Cayetano a lot of problems. I was so busy looking at myself that I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Paco, if it were me then I would be the same. Everyone has secrets. I have two sons, and one day, do I want them to know the whole story of their father’s life and death? No. It would hurt them. We all have parts of our lives that deserve privacy.”

“My mother will always
be a painful story for me. She died when I was only 20, and the pain of it never ends, not even after 50 years. I’m a grown man, so it sounds ridiculous…”

“No it doesn’t, I lost my father at that age, and my mother was already long dead. I know exactly how it feels. Seeing one of the most defining people in your life dying of illness is a torment. It doesn’t matter what age you are, it’s a painful affliction.”

“My mother was a liar.”

“No, she was a mother with a son. She loved someone, and she witnessed his needless death. She was hurting and
tried to spare you the truth.”

“I’m not ready to accept the truth.”

“Well, we have only known the whole story for a week. It’s going to take a lot longer to accept it.”

“So, my biological mother, Sofía, is buried at this Escondrijo
?”

“
Yes, and so is Cayetano Ortega. Alejandro’s letter to me said he buried Cayetano next to Sofía after he shot him. Luna took the baby and ran, terrified of her brother. She took you to protect you from him. She never contacted him again.”

“That must have been so awful,” he all but whispered. “She had to leave Cayetano’s body behind there, with the man who killed him.”

“I know. I can’t believe she could go through something that painful and carry on with her life.”

“She didn’t; she spent the rest of her da
ys alone, not many friends, and her sham marriage didn’t last. She didn’t get over what happened.”

“It makes me sick to just think about i
t. I saw my husband when he died. That was horrific. To have just left his body on the bed at the hospital and walk away… I couldn’t have done that. I spent days crying beside his coffin before the funeral. I needed that.”

“It explains so much about my mother to me. Why she was such a quiet, solemn person.”

“Alejandro buried his friend in a safe place, and lived there most of his life, right next to what he had done. That would have been just as bad.”

“I don’t know what to think of Alejandro Beltrán. He was my real
father, and he never wanted me.”

“Different times, Paco. He was confused when he gave you away.”

“What was he like?”

“He loo
ked just like you,” Luna said. She could see the man try and to hold back what that meant to him. His eyes looked damp as he turned his gaze to the view out the window. “He was a surprisingly gentle man. He acted all rough, and brave, a real tough solitary man. But he was, in fact, kind and warm. He tried to hide it, but he couldn’t. He recognised me in an instant, from my grandmother’s looks, and took me in.”

“But he murdered your grandfather and kept it a secret all this time.”

“I wish he hadn’t killed him, of course I do. I wish your mother hadn’t seen that. I wish you hadn’t been there, in the first days of your life, there at that bloody moment. But we can’t change history. None of them could change the outcome of what happened, and neither can we. Luna took you and drove you to Madrid. A young woman, who had never travelled, managed to get you all the way to Madrid and built a life for you. That is brave. It sounds like an impossible task, but she did it.”

“I remember walking the streets
with her as a young boy,” Paco said. “I was about ten, and we were wandering past a hotel where foreigners were coming in and out, tourists on holiday. I asked her why they came to Spain, and I remember her having no answer. She said a foreigner cannot understand Spain the way that Spaniards do, and that they had romantic notions of the place. She said there was nothing romantic about the awkward fashions of the day. I remember Mamá, tugging at her ill-fitting jacket when she said it. I know that means nothing, but I remember her pulling her coat, wishing for better lives for us. Black, she always wore black.”

“She’s right. As a foreigner, it is hard to understand Spain. The thing I always notice about Spaniards is that they are never conflicted. They have beliefs, and they will defend them. They all believe that what they know and what they have is the best way to live. No one changes sides in an argument and will fight to the death to defend themselves.”

“That stubbornness has caused many dramas.”

“I like stubborn.” Luna smiled, and Paco returned it.

“When I saw you here that night, with Cayetano, going through my mother’s things… I was rude.”

“We shouldn’t have gone through the chest without your permission.”

“I shouldn’t have hidden her things away. I should have looked at it, and read her diaries. I was being an idiot. You looked for a family amongst it; I have had one most of my life, and I shouldn’t deprive you of that.”

“I found no such thing. Cayetano Ortega merely got a New Zealand nurse pregnant; he isn’t a member of my family. I do imagine him to be a charming man, if not cheeky and a womaniser, but he would have been entertaining. But he isn’t family.”

“He might have been, had he not died. Your father may have gotten to know him, somehow.”

“Maybe. Alexander didn’t suffer
without his father. Scarlett was a devoted mother to him. Family consists of whoever we want it be.”

Paco nodded and glanced over his shoulder, to double check everyone was out of earshot. “I met Inés, and I wanted to be with her, and that meant becoming a member of the
Morales family. My mother… can I still call Luna that? She wasn’t my biological mother...”

“I would call her that. Alejandro and Sofía produced you, but Luna raised you.”

“My mother was deeply religious, like her mother was, but had the independent anarchist ideals of her father and brother… and, I suppose, Cayetano and Scarlett. She was a torn woman.”

“An exception to the rule.”

“Exactly. But the Morales family… a family of Falangists… so conservative, almost fanatical, religious members of society. Consuela was raised to be a wife and mother, a decent God-fearing woman, submissive to her husband. José, whose father was killed in the early days of fighting against the Republicans in 1936, was, and still is, a strong Franco supporter. Did Cayetano talk to you about that?”

“Yes, he told me that you, he and José had a talk about it
. Cayetano said he had no idea that his grandfather worked for Franco.”

“I told José to keep a lid on his political views in
front of Cayetano, for his sake. I told him that Cayetano would do better by having no clear political alliance. He can appeal to everyone that way. José may be a murderer, but he does care for Cayetano.” 

“These are old ideals that shouldn’t shackle anyone.
But I won’t lie, hearing about what José was like once upon a time is scary. ”

“You adjust, I suppose. We aren’t the only family in Spain with this kind of history.”

“I know.”

“
I grew up to be like my mother, believe what you like in private, and just blend in. The Morales ideals go in one ear, and out the other.”

“
I won’t hold anyone’s ideals against anyone, Paco. I’m a foreigner, I don’t get an opinion.”

“Are you eligible to vote in Spain?”

“No, no yet.”

“Lucky you. But you aren’t a foreigner. You are the product of a Spanish man, and he was the product of the King himself. You can’t get more Spanish than that.”

“That link means nothing as far as I’m concerned. Leandro Medina knows I’m Cayetano Ortega’s granddaughter, and that is enough.”

“Leandro Medina is an upstanding man. Pity María is his daughter. The woman is a bad seed. I tried to like her, I truly did. I wanted her and Caya to work out.”

“I guess I need to do a lot of work to impress you and Inés.”

Paco shook his head and turned around to the face the groups of relatives spread out around the huge room through the doorway into the
living room. “Look at Caya,” he said. He gestured towards his son who had reappeared. “The boy has never been happier than he is right now. You did that to him. Inés, she is so pleased to see her son as well as he is, that she will do anything to keep you around. Me, well, I have long wanted a loving woman for my son. I know that I had made a mistake wanting him to marry María. She wasn’t any good for him. I wanted him to have what I have with Inés. Happy wife, happy life. That way, he would have no woman troubles and stop being such a pain in the ass.”

Luna burst
out laughing along with Paco as they went back into the living room. “Yeah, I can see that,” she said through her wide smile. “I can imagine Cayetano being a pain in the ass.”

“Show me this ring on your hand again,” Paco said and took her fingers in his. “This shouldn’t be hidden away. I didn’t want to give it
to Inés. I wanted to buy her a ring, to prove what a rich man I was. I was young and stupid. Now, I’m old and stupid. This ring belongs to your grandfather, and to you.”

“But given to me, by Cayetano. He got it from his grandmother and that makes it unique.”

“I guess we all got what we wanted, it just took 70 years to feel that way.”