Luna Tango (7 page)

‘Louisa!' Eduardo boomed from two rooms away.

‘Yes?' She tried to sound cheerful but her voice cracked.

‘My sheet music! Where is it?' He appeared in the doorway, his body shaking and eyes bulging as his gaze darted up and down the hallway. ‘I can't find it. Someone's stolen it! Who would dare steal my work?'

‘No one's stolen it, Eduardo,' she said calmly, placing her hand on his arm. ‘We'll find it. Look into my eyes and take a deep breath.' She breathed in and looked deeply into his eyes. ‘Breath in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.' Louisa repeated this a few times and within moments, his ragged breathing slowed to a regular rate. She studied his salt-and-pepper hair and the lifelines etched on his face. Eduardo looked like a younger version of her grandfather when he was diagnosed with dementia. Nostalgia washed over her, and she wished for another chance to see her grandfather alive one more time when he was lucid. She'd tell him how much she loved him and how she'd never wanted him locked away.

‘Last time I saw it was ...' She entered the music room and walked over to the window seat. Lifting a pile of English-language magazines, she grabbed the sheet music and triumphantly handed over the pages. ‘Here.'

‘Thank you, Louisa.' He hung his head and gut-wrenching sobs echoed through the room. Rubbing his back, she made hushing noises, her heart breaking as she witnessed this talented man losing confidence.

‘What would I do without you?' He looked up, his eyes full of tears. ‘You know me better than anyone. I saved you from poverty but you've saved my reputation and sanity many times over. I'm aware my behaviour makes your life difficult but the anger's like a speeding train and it's impossible to stop at times. Please.' He grabbed her hand so hard she let out a small cry. ‘Don't ever leave me. Promise you'll never go. I'd never survive without you.'

As much as she wanted to promise she'd stay, she couldn't offer her word. Confusion reigned and she closed her eyes, wishing for an easy solution. Whichever way she turned, either Roberto or Eduardo would be deeply hurt.

‘Don't say anything.' He held up his hand, fear etched in the deep creases on his face. She leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek then headed for the door.

‘Louisa?'

She turned to face him. ‘Yes?'

‘I know you can never love me in the way I want, and I appreciate you sticking by this crusty old fool and feeding the muse. You are an angel walking among us.'

She gave him a small smile and went upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her. Flopping on the bed, she took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, watching the fading daylight catch the crystals on the chandelier, casting a kaleidoscope of colours on the wall. A wave of pity swept over her. All Eduardo ever wanted was time to create the music that brought joy to many and a chance to honour a promise he'd made to his own mentor. Eduardo needed her help to get him through the rough stages of the disease, to calm him when fear paralysed him, and to support him when he felt all was lost. After everything he'd done for her, she couldn't deprive him of his wishes. She didn't want another man to suffer like her grandfather because someone couldn't be bothered to help. Eduardo was right. The decision had been made.

* * *

The door clicked quietly behind Louisa as she stepped into the cool evening. Hurrying down the dark street, she crossed the deserted road and ducked into the shadows of the park. She didn't need light to guide her through the twists and turns to arrive at their bench seat. She sat and waited. The cold metal bit through her winter jacket and froze the backs of her legs and buttocks. It hardly mattered—since Eduardo had delivered the news of their imminent departure, a deep chill had settled on her soul. Pulling the jacket closer to her body, she stared into the darkness as the minutes dragged on.

Stones crunching beneath solid boots drew her attention to the park's entrance. Roberto stood for a moment, as if allowing his eyes to adjust to the blackness. His slow, deliberate steps left her desperate with anticipation for his strong arms to wrap around and cocoon her from the world once again.

He drew close and held out his hand and she took it, his warm fingers entwining with hers. Louisa stood, looked into his eyes and dissolved into tears, burying her head in his woollen jacket. Roberto gently stroked her hair, his fingers occasionally catching a curl.

‘My love, we will find a way.'

She pulled back, hot tears obscuring her vision. ‘How? He's already made up his mind.'

‘I know.' Roberto gestured towards the bench. They sat and she snuggled into him, breathing in his familiar sandalwood scent.

‘What do you want to happen?' The words came out before she'd realised the implications of hearing an answer she didn't want.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Eduardo's told you about looking after his affairs, right? And how he'll let you perform once he leaves.'

‘Yes. He says my performing is like a legacy he is leaving for the Argentines while he is away.' Roberto puffed out his chest.

‘So you're his replacement.'

‘No one could ever fully replace Eduardo, but yes, in a way I am.' His tone held excitement.

‘You'll get to live your dream and make a name for yourself.' Louisa looked into his eyes. ‘You deserve this.'

‘I've worked hard, yes, but it means nothing if I can't share it with you.'

‘But he needs me and I have to help.' She desperately wanted to elaborate but she'd given her word to Eduardo.

‘I need you, too, but ...' Roberto paused as if searching for the right words.

‘It's your dream.'

‘It's our future.' He trailed his fingers down her face and around to the nape of her neck.

She stared at her turquoise heels. ‘I have no idea how I'll get through my days without you.'

‘So stay with me.'

‘I can't.'

‘You're not his possession, Louisa.' Roberto shifted away and a shot of cold air slapped her side.

‘I'm his muse,' she said, scrambling. ‘He can't perform without me.'

‘He's using guilt to make you stay with him.'

She'd spent many nights contemplating that thought but she always came to the same conclusion: Eduardo had never used guilt to get what he wanted.

‘Roberto, I love this country. Argentina adopted me when I had no home and no family and she took me in her arms and embraced me like I was her own child. By being Eduardo's muse I can return some of what I owe the Argentine people.'

Roberto frowned for a moment and scratched his head. ‘You are too loyal. I've seen the way he treats you.'

‘He has his reasons.'

‘No reason is good enough to behave the way he does with you.' His tone turned steely and his body tensed. ‘Call me selfish, but I want you with me. Let's leave for Brazil like we've dreamed about. Let's do it.'

‘Roberto, I want to. Believe me, I want to with my whole heart, but it's not possible.'

‘Maybe you don't want me and you're using him as an excuse.' He crossed his arms and stared into the dark corner of the park.

‘Roberto.' Louisa placed her hand on his arm. ‘This is not true.'

‘Leave him.'

‘I can't.'

‘Something's wrong with him,' Roberto blurted.

She sucked in the cold air and it pained the back of her throat. ‘What do you mean?'

‘His temper is getting worse and he's more forgetful. The other day he gave me some music and told me I was ready for it, yet he'd given me the same piece two weeks before.'

‘Eduardo's been under stress lately—'

‘There you go defending him again.' He pulled further away, the gap between them now a wide valley.

‘He's the closest to family I've got. When I arrived here no one cared if I died in a gutter. Eduardo took me in and has treated me like a daughter ever since.'

‘He only treats you like a daughter because you won't return his romantic overtures.' Roberto drew his lips into a taut line. She didn't take offence at his words, as they'd been spoken in anger. Roberto turned to her. ‘I can't compete with him, can I?'

‘This is not a competition. I love Eduardo like a father, but I love you, like this.' She leant forwards and placed a finger under his chin, guiding his lips towards hers. Pure love danced in his dark eyes. Her body ached for his touch, for his hands to caress, stroke and love her. A hunger grew inside and she kissed him harder, her eagerness quashing any fears of being caught.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, their lips explored new territory, their bodies entwined with desire. Until now, they'd held back, determined to do the right thing by Eduardo. But with their future as a couple in doubt, it was easy to give in to the feelings they'd ignored for so long, knowing this moment would pass and could never be relived.

‘Come to my apartment.' His breath came out in short, shallow bursts.

‘I can't—'

‘Please.'

The significance of what they were doing weighed heavily on her shoulders. All she wanted was a few stolen moments with the man she loved, then she'd follow through with her commitment to Eduardo.

Roberto kissed her one more time and she arrived at her answer.

‘Yes.'

Dani climbed the steps to the dance hall, grateful she'd shaken the paranoia from her last visit. Well, almost. Time and common sense had quelled fears of Iris miraculously appearing in a
práctica
or
milonga
in Buenos Aires—that was as likely as Dani joining River-dance. A small laugh slipped from her mouth.

Carlos stopped and turned around. ‘You are all right?'

‘Yes, yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me.' She made a shooing gesture and they continued to the entrance. The moment they arrived at the giant wooden doors, a familiar figure stepped from the shadows.

‘Nice shoes.' Gualberto eyed off her latest purchase.

‘Thanks.' Yes, they were poo brown. Yes, they were ugly, but man, were they comfortable. No need to tell Carlos, though.

The trio entered the building, weaving their way through the halls until they reached the large courtyard and sat at the same table as the previous night. The sweet aroma of gardenias floated across the warm evening as the music started, beckoning the dancers to take to the floor and twist and turn in ways that didn't seem humanly possible. The bandoneón still made her clench her fists.

Dani's gaze travelled the room, seeking grey-haired patrons— ones old enough to have frequented dance halls in the early fifties. Every spare second she'd had, and she'd had plenty due to insomnia, Dani had read up on—using actual books—Louisa Gilchrist and Eduardo Canziani. What fascinated her most, however, was the involvement of Roberto Vega, Eduardo's protégé. The history books weren't entirely clear on the dynamics between the trio as there was no first-hand information, but Roberto's relationships with his mentor, Eduardo, and lover, Louisa, seemed to raise more questions than give answers.

Their story had latched on to her imagination like a pit bull and she couldn't shake it off, even though she should be working on the tango articles. Tonight she planned to ask patrons from that era about life back then and if someone opened up about the Canziani murder then who was she to stop them? It did fall into the history of tango piece—kind of. Also, cracking a cold case would send her career skyrocketing. She could ditch her job at the mag as well as Adam and his ex-current-whatever wife and get on with a new career and new life.

But Dani knew she wasn't fooling anybody, especially herself. The death of Argentina's greatest composer remained a scar on the patriotic pride of the Argentines, so if a foreigner uncovered evidence that had been misconstrued ...

Don't be ridiculous, McKenna, professional investigators have worked on this case for years
—
why would you be the one to put it to rest?

She had enough going on with her Tourism Argentina pieces and her personal project. Not that she'd asked Carlos questions about Iris's private life, because every time someone mentioned her name, Dani's brain froze. Maybe she should leave well enough alone and just do her history of tango articles. That way, her life would be less complicated and she didn't have to worry about betraying Carlos's trust. Even if this trip might be her only shot at obtaining an insight into what her mother was really like. Then there was the potential story behind the motorbike accident but with Carlos's tight lips, she had more chance of cracking the Canziani case. Crap. This was getting all too hard.

Dani turned her attention to Carlos, who rubbed his knee. He caught her looking and removed his hand, leant forwards and grabbed a glass of water. He took a sip, and stared into the dark recesses of the courtyard.

Gualberto stood and said, ‘Please excuse me, I spy a friend I have not seen in a long time.' He dived into the crowd and disappeared.

Gualberto's vanishing left Dani squirming in Carlos's solemn presence but she reminded herself he could have fun—he'd proven it this afternoon at the shoe shop. It was nice, but also sad, to glimpse the fun Carlos that may have existed prior to the accident. She'd liked what she'd seen, but looking at him now, with rigid posture and intense eyes, Carlos laughing again could be way off in the future.

‘Your lesson begins now.'

Fear flipped her stomach. ‘Okay.'

Carlos cleared his throat. ‘The woman is the most important person of the couple. The woman should only move if the man creates a desire in her to do so. She must trust the leader at all times and the leader must deal with her reality and he should adjust his movements for her.'

‘I thought it was a macho dance.'

‘No. This is why you have much to learn.'