Falling For You (59 page)

‘She is sad. Because she is telling me that you are not happy. Not yet,’ Rafaela says with finality.

I cross my legs and take in a breath. What to say to that? Do I even answer it? She seems to have finished so I get up, hand over twenty-five Euros and thank her, move on out into the sunny morning again. My son is asleep, and although I had intended to browse, this time, I keep on moving. If I keep on going till I get right to the end, I’ll come to the little church of Santa Eulalia and I will go in there and I will light a candle. I need a bit of light. Because now I’ve had a chance to think about it, I know that Rafaela was right about that fog. That cloudiness in my mind that’s been preventing me from seeing the one thing I really have not yet wanted to see; that I’m unhappy because although I have my child back,
finding him
has only thrown something else into full relief.   

The fact that I was right.

I was right, all along, all those long and lonely months when Charlie wouldn’t support me and his blessed family wouldn’t support me and even my own mother didn’t help me. And until all this happened to us, I had truly believed that, in Charlie, I had found a man who would love and support me through thick and thin. Someone who’d be there no matter what. A lover who wouldn’t just abandon me when the going got tough. And he didn’t live up to that, did he? Because in the end, I was alone and knowing that has left me with sadness that I just can’t shift.

Oh, I know I need to get over it, move past it. God knows, Charlie was full of remorse when he realised he should have stepped in much sooner, his family utterly astonished, and since then, they’ve all bent over backwards to help us. And yet, love Charlie though I do, I don’t honestly know if I
can
get over it.

Losing our son tested our relationship to breaking point. By the grace of God, we have Hadyn back now, yes, and in so many ways, that has healed a thousand hurts.

But in my heart, I fear that whatever there once was between me and Charlie ... that’s the bit that’s still broken. That’s the bit that, like the Madonna, may be beyond repair.

Charlie

‘The swell’s getting higher on this side. It’s going to be rough.’ Roberto’s immediate observation as we’re heading at some speed out of the bay does nothing to settle my stomach. He hasn’t filled me in yet on the
urgent
reason he needed to see me this afternoon, and I haven’t brought it up. I’m starting to think he was more nervous about the operation on his infant niece than he let on. He wanted a first-hand account from the chief surgeon on it, and this was the best way to get it.

Except he hasn’t asked me about the op yet, either.

‘
What
?’ he barks at me now. ‘What’s with the white-face? Still nervous of boats, brother? After all this time?’

‘Not nervous of boats,’ I tell him. Bugger me if he’s going to see it. ‘Tired.’ He knows what from.

‘How did it go, the operation on the child?’ My brother’s face softens immediately – I was right.  Finally, he slows down the boat, killing the noise so he can listen to my response. The answer matters desperately to him, just as I thought. The infant I operated on today is Eva’s niece. She’s family.

‘She’s the smallest person I’ve ever had to do a procedure on,’ I tell him. ‘You do know the finger was completely severed?’ My brother’s lips twitch slightly, and I know he won’t want to hear the details. ‘But it went well. There were no complications.’

‘She’ll recover fully?’

‘She should.’

His relief is palpable. ‘Her parents will be very grateful to you, Carlos
. I
am very grateful to you ...’  

‘You’re welcome.’ He’s taken this as a personal favour but I’d have done the same for anyone if I could. ‘Julia and I do appreciate everything you’ve done to help us out too, Rob,’ I tell him now.

Rob shoots me a look that is full of remorse.

‘I am only sorry that I did not do more to help Hadyn sooner. That I didn’t believe there was anything more that could be done.’ My brother’s shoulders sag a little as he says this and for the first time, I recognise the toll that the last year has taken on everyone in the extended family, not just us.

‘It’s been a difficult time,’ my older brother admits in a rare display of vulnerability. ‘We have all prayed for you, Carlos. Every day.’

If our grandmother Agustina could see this—
I feel my spirits lift—
if our mother Conchita could see it, Roberto and I working out our differences, just being human towards each other, how proud they would be.   

‘I’ve not worked for four months.’ I clear my throat and change the subject after a bit. ‘Today’s operation has only made me realise how much I’ve missed it.’

‘I swear, it’s nothing short of miraculous what you surgeons can do.’ I catch a glimpse of un-looked-for admiration in my brother’s eyes. ‘I used to think you must have chosen to be a surgeon for the good pay, but these days,’ he admits a little reluctantly, ‘I’m not so sure.’

‘Blood and guts don’t make me queasy, Rob.’

He grins ruefully, expertly steering us smoothly over the next wave, which lifts the boat up high.

‘Only the sea does that, no?’ He nudges me now, drawing my attention to an area of the bay suddenly visible on the shore. ‘Hey. Mum and Dad used to own that property down in Calle Rosa, you remember?’

‘My God,’ I screw up my eyes. It’s just a pin-prick, a tiny square of mauve where the bougainvillea still drapes extravagantly over the wall. ‘You can still see it from here. It’s still
there
...’

‘Yes, it is. When we were kids, we used to swim out to the buoys over there and look back,’ he recollects. ‘You always waved.’

I smile. ‘I used to imagine our Dad was on the porch, watching out for us.’

‘
Hombre
!’ my brother slaps his leg good-naturedly. ‘He wasn’t looking out for us. He was probably at work!’

‘Mum, then.’ I cast him a sideways glance.

‘Mum,’ he repeats. Do I catch a hint of sadness in my brother’s inscrutable face now? The memory of that ritual catches me unawares and it makes me a little maudlin. It comes from a time when I had no trouble identifying where
home
was, maybe?    

Does Rob remember all the same things from the past that I do, I wonder?  Our parents’ red-tiled apartment just on the outskirts of the fishing village of Arenadeluna; my mother’s table that was always groaning with food, a wooden cross above every bed, church on Sundays, and a thousand affectionate relatives perpetually coming and going whose names all sounded just the same. Does my brother remember that? 

‘What about that small yellow canary who lived in a cage just outside our grandmother Agustina’s bedroom window?’ I nudge my brother now. ‘He would sing his heart out every morning, stuck in his tiny cage. I promised him I’d set him free one day.’

Rob gives me a strange look.

‘Did you?’

I shake my head. ‘Na. Our grandmother would have killed me if I’d let him out.’

‘And then maybe the cat would have killed the bird too,’ he says in all seriousness. I laugh. He’s right. ‘There’s a price to go with having your freedom, sometimes,’ he says quietly and I know what he’s saying; that there are advantages to be had in not claiming it.

‘I left Spain many years ago, left the Spanish half of my family behind, but family do matter ...’ I concede. Who else do you have to stand by you when you’re in a crisis?

He nods, thoughtful, then says, ‘You’ve seen our father recently, Carlos? He’s okay?’ 

I last saw him in November. I sigh. Not so recently, when I come to think of it. I give my brother a terse nod.

‘He knows who you are, though? When you go see him in the care home?’ My brother seems almost mellow today,his concern touching.

‘His carer Rolli does a sterling job,’ I tell Rob. ‘As for whether Dad knows me or not … he drifts in and out. You know how it is with dementia: the past is often clearer than the day in front of them.’

 ‘Maybe, for the old, it is more beautiful?’ Roberto suggests unexpectedly. He doesn’t often get too sentimental over most things. There must be something in the air today, because neither, usually, do I.

He pulls a face then, seems to remember himself.

‘There are some bottles in that cold unit.’ Hands still poised on the steering wheel, Rob indicates with his head for me to fetch a couple of cold beers.  I open his for him and hand it over. The quiet out here has a quality all of its own. It isn’t complete quiet, I’m aware; far away, there are seabirds calling. Every so often, there is a creaking sound coming from beneath us, below the deck. Some little waves smack against the side of the boat. The sea has calmed considerably now we’re further out in the bay. We’re still listing from side to side a little, but the lurching in my stomach has practically subsided. Maybe I’d make a sailor after all?

‘So you and Julia will be home soon
,
’ he says. ‘You two still planning on getting wed?’

I let out a breath. ‘It’s part of the bigger picture,’ I confirm. ‘Now that Agustina’s no longer around, it won’t be in Spain but still ...’

He nods, and now I see a small smile form on his face.  ‘Does Lourdes know?’

I stare at him. ‘Does Lourdes know
what
?’

My brother spreads his hands amiably. ‘
Nada, hombre
.  People just thought ... you know, just a few months ago ... before your boy was found,’ he raises his eyebrows at me meaningfully. ‘The way things were looking between you and your ex ... it all could have gone a very different way there, no?’

‘No,’ I say decisively.

‘Naturally,’ he says evenly, ‘You want to marry the mother of your son, and that is not Lourdes.’

‘No,’ I say, curt. ‘It is not.’ There’s a few minutes’ silence while we both chew on that for a bit. ‘Life doesn’t always work out the way you expect it to,’ I concede after a while. ‘And that’s ... it’s not always a bad thing.’

‘No. We have to change plans sometimes, that’s true.’ My brother slows the boat down a tad, readjusts our position. ‘Today, for instance. We won’t get back till late. You and I will both miss Antonio’s birthday party this evening, you realise?’

‘I realise.’  I put the bottle to my lips. The beer is cold, refreshing on my tongue.

‘Julia is okay taking Hadyn to the party without you?’ He looks at me curiously.

‘She’s fine with it.’ 

‘That’s good.’ He nods approvingly. ‘She’s not a jealous woman.’

‘There is no reason why she should be, Rob.’

‘Na.’ His gaze holds mine for that split second more than necessary. He takes a swig from his bottle. ‘Julia’s a good woman, Charlie. A good
mother
. You couldn’t ask for better.’

‘I couldn’t,’ I agree.

‘She’s looking forward to being back in her own home, I imagine?’ My brother averts his gaze, changes the subject, and I sense there is now something else on his mind.

‘Very much so.’

‘You got a date for the flight? Soon as possible, yes? This weekend?’

I give a short laugh. ‘Not quite as soon as that. We’ll be flying out Wednesday.’

‘Wednesday? That’s five days.’ He goes oddly silent now, and a fine sea spray from the bow of the boat catches us both unawares. It’s
cold
. I fetch my jacket.

‘Is there some problem with that?’

‘Of course not,’ he tells me with a strangely pained smile. ‘The longer you stay, the more your family are subjected to local curiosity, the glare of the media here, that’s all.’

I shrug. ‘We’ve been here quite a few months already, Rob. We’re not exactly fresh news.’

‘No,’ he admits. He looks as if he’s about to add something else but then he thinks better of it.      

‘The embassy booked the tickets for us,’ I remind him. ‘They chose the date.’

My brother nods rapidly. ‘Well. What if I can get you some earlier ones?’ he offers generously.

Earlier than Wednesday?  I give a short laugh. ‘It’s good of you to offer. But after four months in Spain, there are a few things I’ll need to see to before we leave.’

 ‘As you like,’ he comes back shortly. The wind whips his dark hair up, sprays us both with a wet salt spray. For a moment, the water seems very choppy. He hesitates before adding, ‘Carlos, I have some bad news.’ So he has come to it at last. The
hiccup
. I feel my back go rigid as he says this. What’s he going to tell me now? That he’s overstretched himself, pulled so many strings to get us out, we’ve ended up entangled in some Gordian knot? That we can’t go after all?  I hold my breath. 

‘They are going to be letting Illusion out next week. I thought you should know.’

Illusion out. This is bad. But not as bad as a further delay in our departure.