Luna Tango (10 page)

The lavender aroma lifted her spirits a notch and her skin tingled where the cloth trailed across her body. In a way, it would be easier to be heartless and love Roberto with abandon, not caring what Eduardo thought. But her parents hadn't brought her up that way and even though they weren't with her physically, their spirits were her one constant. She glanced at the framed photo beside the bed, the only surviving image of Louisa and her parents. She couldn't shame them by going back on her promise to Eduardo, although this hadn't been foremost in her mind last night. She'd made a gaffe—a delicious, sensual, wonderful, earth-moving mistake— and now she had to deal with the consequences.

Louisa slid on silk stockings, a red pleated skirt and white shirt. She tied the shirt's bow around her neck and stepped into red shoes. After many years living in dismal conditions and wearing drab, filthy clothes in London, then Wales and Argentina, she still found it difficult to adjust to wearing bright, fresh, designer outfits. Eduardo always expected her to look her best, and if it meant having a seamstress on hand twenty-four hours a day, he'd do it. And he did.

Of course she'd miss this lifestyle should she ever follow her heart and be with Roberto. Here she was, a young woman, enjoying a life of riches and it was all she'd cared about, until she'd met Roberto. After enduring life in war-torn Britain and the slums of Buenos Aires, she'd sworn never to return to that existence. Eduardo's offer had been hard to resist. Perhaps it was shallow, but Louisa felt she'd paid her dues and deserved the spoils of this high life.

Glancing at the clock, she hurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Low voices murmured behind the closed parlour doors, and Louisa paused, fingers on the handle. She'd much prefer to stay in her room and reflect on the passionate hours she'd shared with Roberto. Being in the presence of others would burst her blissful bubble, but she had no choice other than to steel herself and flash her brightest smile. As an old hand at faking emotions, this shouldn't be too hard.

She rapped lightly on the carved wooden door and pushed it open. Roberto sat on an embroidered chair with his back stiff and the sunlight streaming behind his shoulders. He hadn't mentioned coming to the luncheon and his presence knocked her off-kilter. She lifted her chin and refused to meet his eyes, for if she did, she'd surely break down in tears, knowing this would be one of the last times she would see him.

The mystery guest rose and strode towards her like they'd met hundreds of times. He towered over her, his broad physique sporting a perfectly tailored navy blue suit. Stretching a meaty hand towards her, he said, ‘It is nice to meet you, Miss Gilchrist.'

‘It's nice to meet you, too, Mister ...'

‘Oh, I am sorry! My name is Stanley Wyler. Texan by birth, transplanted to California.' He proffered a well-practised smile and she gave him hers.

‘Well, I am very pleased to finally meet our mystery guest.' It felt strange to speak English again.

‘Please, sit.' Eduardo said in broken English, gesturing for Wyler to take a seat on a high-backed chair. Louisa sat on the Edwardian settee so Roberto wouldn't be in her line of vision.

‘I hear you have an important role in this household,' Wyler said, his voice booming. His wink told her he thought like everyone else did—that Louisa and Eduardo were lovers.

‘Eduardo feels his muse benefits when he is in my presence.' She was glad she couldn't see Roberto's expression.

‘And you're travelling to my country soon?'

‘I believe so.' Ripples of distress threatened to overcome her like they did every time she thought about the move.

‘Well I, for one, am glad. We will be seeing a lot more of each other once you arrive in my town.'

‘Pardon?' Louisa was accustomed to Eduardo bringing home guests from all over the world and with various occupations but this one—this Stanley Wyler—felt different. His confidence and familiarity unnerved her. Perhaps it was his Texan ways.

‘Has Eduardo not told you?' He raised his eyebrows at Eduardo who sat on the sofa, swirling ice cubes in his glass with nonchalance. ‘We are meeting today to hash out the final details about your move to Hollywood. I own a studio, you see, and I have a great love for tango. The people are tiring of the same old musicals and our studio is determined to change this forever. We are going to introduce a new generation of moviegoers to tango and your beloved Eduardo is going to help me do this.'

Louisa remained still, not willing to make eye contact with Roberto or Eduardo. Why hadn't Eduardo mentioned this before? As far as she knew, he was going to find work when he got to America, yet somehow he'd kept this arrangement with Stanley Wyler a secret. Between Wyler's rudimentary Spanish and Eduardo's passable English, the men had brokered a deal that affected not only their lives but Louisa's and Roberto's also. Unable to form any words that wouldn't come out with anger, Louisa studied the thick stitching on her red heels. What else had he done that she didn't know about?

‘Do not be alarmed, Miss Gilchrist—'

‘Louisa.' Perhaps she wasn't as good at hiding her emotions as she thought. If a complete stranger could pick up that she was worried, then how could she possibly conceal her feelings for Roberto, especially now they had consummated their love?

‘Louisa. Please, do not despair. My studio will ensure you and Eduardo will be well catered for.' His tone sounded genuine and this bear of a man made her want to trust him, which went against her promise to herself to trust no one until they'd earned it. Wyler pulled an envelope from inside his jacket and handed it to Eduardo. ‘Your passage to a new world. Louisa, I hope you will enjoy life in my country. For years, I've waited for Argentina to open her doors and encourage us to conduct business with your people. I am grateful Perón is now forging economic roads with the president's brother, Milton Eisenhower,' Wyler said.

‘Not everyone agrees with what Perón is doing,' she said, not willing to remain silent any longer. ‘He won the support of the workers by promoting equality and for the bosses and employees to work together to build a strong Argentina, yet now he's going against his nationalistic and anti-imperialistic stance by allowing corporations from around the world to enter and take over.'

‘Enough, Louisa,' Eduardo said, his tone stern. ‘Mister Wyler is a guest in our house. Let us not fill his ears with nonsense.'

‘Ha!' Wyler slapped his thigh then loosened his collar. ‘I like a good old discussion. Tell me, Miss Gilchrist, were you once a supporter of Perón?'

‘I am a supporter of whoever makes Argentina a better place for all citizens.'

A wry smile crossed his lips. ‘As long as the foreigners don't barge in and buy up state-owned businesses?' Wyler leant his large frame against the chair and placed his hands behind his head. His eyes dared her to answer.

‘Do you want my honest answer, or the one I should give because you're Eduardo's guest?'

Wyler roared with laughter. ‘You are a live one. I like you. I am happy for you to answer truthfully.'

Louisa's back stiffened, unsure whether to continue. If she upset Wyler, the deal could be off—or Eduardo would dump her and go to the United States anyway. She would be free to continue her relationship with Roberto but she couldn't, in good conscience, destroy Eduardo's one chance at fulfilling his promise to his mentor, Carlos Gardel.

Eduardo cleared his throat and she didn't need to look at him to know he was scowling.

‘I'm not sure if you know my background, Mister Wyler,' she said.

‘Not really. Eduardo is a private man but we are better acquainted now, aren't we, Eddie?'

Her eyes widened at Wyler's shortening Eduardo's name. Rather than Eduardo correct his guest, he nodded politely and cracked a thin-lipped smile that looked more like a grimace.

‘In a way, my history is like Eva Duarte's,' she said. ‘Eva didn't lose both parents like I did but her father did pass away when she was young. She arrived penniless in Buenos Aires and had to work her way up in the world. She met the right person at the right time and was pulled out of poverty to live a life of luxury.'

‘It is a fairy tale, isn't it?' said Wyler.

‘I guess.'

‘Too bad Eva Perón's fairy tale didn't have a happy ending,' said Eduardo.

Louisa sensed Roberto shift in his chair and she twisted around to catch him studying her with the same intensity as the night before. She wanted to drink in his love and bask in his affection but she looked away, scared her expression would give away her feelings.

The air thickened with tension as Louisa contemplated what to say next without causing Eduardo to fly off the handle in front of his guest. So far, she'd managed to keep him calm in company, excepting Roberto's.

‘I would like to ask a question, if I may,' Roberto said and the pressure in the room eased slightly. Louisa let out her breath, unaware she'd been holding it.

Wyler leant forwards. ‘Ah, yes, the protégé. Why haven't we heard you play?'

‘I'll answer this,' said Eduardo. ‘Young Roberto here has a talent that needs nurturing. He is excellent at the bandoneón but he's still immature. A player needs years behind him, not only for practice but to gain life experience. He needs to know the agony of a broken heart, to have a life in ruins, to understand misery and lose oneself in melancholy. This is what should be in the soul of a bandoneón player.'

‘I would like to hear you play, Roberto.' Wyler turned to Eduardo. ‘If it would not be too much trouble. Perhaps we could take you to Hollywood and you could play in my orchestra?'

‘He's not ready yet and he has to stay here and manage my affairs,' Eduardo said evenly.

‘I am ready.' Roberto narrowed his eyes at his mentor. ‘You want me to perform in front of audiences in Argentina, yet you won't let me play for one man? Especially the man who could employ me to play
your
music for his movies?' Roberto stood, glowering at Eduardo. ‘You want everything for yourself and damn everybody else.' His eyes briefly travelled to Louisa, who gripped the chair.

‘Roberto!' she said. He had no idea how easily he could set off Eduardo and how complicated and messy things could get.

‘No, I've had enough.' Roberto threw up his hands. ‘I've bowed and scraped and done as you've asked, Eduardo. More than you've required, in fact. I've bent over backwards and practised fifteen hours a day for two years and put up with you telling me I'm not ready. Then you change your mind overnight and expect me to embrace this while you make plans to gallivant with Louisa in the United States? I'm done. Done with it all.' Anger flashed in his eyes as he glanced at her before he stormed out and slammed the door. Her body flinched on the outside but on the inside her soul cried.

‘Yes, he is done,' said Eduardo, pouring whiskey into his crystal glass.

‘You're letting him go?' Louisa asked, suppressing the desire to bolt after her lover.

Eduardo took a long swig and grunted. ‘Ungrateful swine.'

The trio fell into an uncomfortable silence as Eduardo drank, Wyler drummed his fingers on the pile of
Time
magazines, and Louisa stared with teary eyes at the gilded portrait of herself hanging above the white marble mantelpiece. The artist's deft brushstrokes had painted an image that didn't represent the true Louisa. In the painting, the woman was genteel, sophisticated and removed, but in reality, Louisa was heartbroken, confused and devastated.

* * *

The luncheon dragged on with more talk of politics, Hollywood and leaving Argentina. Her throat hurt from concealing emotions, and she studied the intricate swirls engraved in the fine crystal champagne glass. She took another sip and dizziness overcame her.

‘Please excuse me. I need fresh air,' she said and left the table. The men stood for her to leave and she urged herself to walk slowly.

Louisa travelled through the darkened hallways, trying not to brush against the china vases sitting on the solid wood stands. She could never understand why people would put precious objects in main thoroughfares—it was an accident waiting to happen. She slipped out the French doors, down the marble steps and over to the gazebo hidden behind vines in the rear of the garden. Taking a seat on the striped cushions, she breathed in the jasmine and let her muscles relax. She closed her eyes and leant against the trellis, enjoying the light breeze dancing across her skin.

‘I thought I would find you here,
mi lunita
.'

Her eyes shot open and her heart raced. Roberto stood at the gazebo's open doorway, a cheeky grin matching the spark in his eyes.

‘Thank goodness!' She sat up but was overcome with wooziness and slumped against the trellis again.

‘Too much champagne at lunch,
lunita
?'

‘Maybe.' She patted the seat beside her, confident they wouldn't be seen from the house. ‘Why do you call me little moon?'

His private smile stirred desire in her once more. ‘It is because …' He gestured to where the half-moon birthmark was on her lower back.

She frowned but secretly enjoyed his knowledge of such an intimate place. ‘I was going to find you after Wyler left.'

‘He's likely to stay for dinner and breakfast.' Roberto slipped his hand in hers, their fingers entwining. He stroked his thumb against her skin and love flowed through her body.

‘Angering Eduardo wasn't a particularly bright move, you know.'

‘You're right, but I've had enough, Louisa. My heart aches just thinking about your departure.'

‘But he's given you an opportunity to fulfil your dream of performing in front of thousands in concert halls across the country.'

He wrenched his hand from hers and stared at the jasmine twisting around the trellis. ‘If you don't want to be with me, you need only say.'