Masquerade (22 page)

He thought of Luz, and her eyes, which, as they met his for a fleeting second on the boat, had held that odd look of both defiance and despair in their dark-blue depths. He had hurt her, of this he was in no doubt, but still he hoped that he had not lost her.

His whole life’s happiness was at stake and that was the only truth of which he was sure. Oh, he knew all about the gypsies’ deep-rooted horror of marriages between
gitano
and
gajo
, and this case was so much more complicated. Sacrifices would have to be made. No, it would not be easy. Still, he was a great believer in the saying: ‘Nothing in life worth having is easy.’ But at all costs, for now, he must distance himself from the one thing he wanted most dearly; he could see no other way.

Luz was still in stunned shock when she got back to L’Estrella. Drained of all emotion and completely worn out, her heart felt like a lump of lead in her chest. In no mood to eat anything, she undressed by moonlight, not bothering even to turn on her bedside lamp. She padded barefoot across the rattan matting to the open window and
spent the next few hours on the veranda staring bleakly into the night. Odd nebulous thoughts drifted across her mind, going round in convoluted circles until she felt her brain would explode.

She had forced herself not to weep on that miserable trip back to the harbour with Leandro. But tears of hurt and frustration flowed now, streaming down her face as she looked up at the ivory curve of the moon. Maybe he was looking at it too, wherever he was. How could so much change in the space of one afternoon? It had been a wonderful dream, which then turned into a nightmare.

She closed her eyes and hugged herself, aching for the feel of him. Her body felt cold and lifeless after the radiating warmth of his skin and his touch. She longed for him and tried desperately not to think about her heart breaking.

Luz’s feelings switched from one extreme to the other as her mind impulsively picked over everything that had happened since she first laid eyes on the gypsy. Stray images flitted before her vision like a film reel. She remembered the day she had seen him on the path down to the beach and how, despite her initial wariness, she was helplessly stirred by his audacious, compelling gaze; how much incitement she had seen in those wild green eyes. And then at the horse fair, how provocatively he had looked at her, even from a distance, stoking the flames already lit within her. No man had ever affected her in this way. Her spirit soared when she recalled his burning kisses at the masked ball, the electric skin-to-skin contact, and then the ecstasy they had shared just a few hours earlier, only to plummet in the same breath as she relived the agony of his subsequent rejection and accepted the reality of her short-lived idyll.

The truth of the matter was that gypsies and
gajos
did not mix well; and the sooner she accepted this cruel fact, the quicker she would be able to get on with her life. Luz buried her face in her hands and sobbed. An owl hooted as if to second her grief and commiserate, but it had no answers. However much life without Leandro seemed inconceivable, it was inevitable: as a couple they would be outcasts. The gypsies’ contempt for
gajos
was no secret, nor did she doubt her
parents’ reaction if she were to come home with a Romany
chalán
in tow. Still, something inside her rebelled. Luz hated the world she lived in and refused to be defeated by its bias and bigotry. She swept her tears away with the back of her hand. Even if this special dream of her life was doomed to go the way of all dreams, she would not let that happen, she vowed: true love would prevail.

True love, was that what it was? Leandro had never really told her he loved her. At the end of the day he was a
gitano
, a free spirit. If she were truly honest, what might be real love to her could be construed as real lust as far as he was concerned. Yes, what she had taken for love at first sight had actually been a more primitive need for sex. He had simply been displaying his knowledge of the female body and his art in her arousal. Both times he had taken her by surprise, first at the ball and now on the beach, overwhelming her with his passion and blatant virility. She had not just welcomed his lovemaking, she had offered herself to each thrust of his demand, revelling in each stage of his wild possession, yearning to belong to him, body and soul forever. Her heart was full of him, bursting with an emotion she was
sure
was love … or was it just hormones spinning out of control?

At that thought, she felt belittled and ashamed of herself. It was no good, she had to get him out of her mind, to quash this physical attraction not only burning her body but also threatening her sanity. She must snap out of it and smother the romantic core in her heart that wept for him. It was just a schoolgirl infatuation, she remonstrated.

Luz stared up at the moon again. Her imagination told her it was hinting at something; suddenly, the half-sphere in profile reminded her a little of Andrés’ cryptic mask at the ball. Come to think of it now, there had been something a little unnerving about his disguise. She shivered. It disturbed her that Andrés had come unbidden into her mind when her heart was in turmoil over Leandro.

Finally, she went to bed, physically and mentally exhausted. She was met with unrest, tossing and turning as the recurrent nightmare of Leandro and Andrés in the Garden of Eden assailed her
each time she closed her eyes. This time it was so much more erotic and explicit than any dream she’d ever had and she was shocked at the wantonness of her fantasies.

When Luz woke the next day, thoughts of Leandro were still spinning around in her head. Pushing back the covers, she sat up. She made a concerted effort to get out of bed and then shower and dress, refusing to give in to the depression and lethargy that were weighing her down like a heavy mist.

Work was the answer, she decided. She would find solace there. Research for the Eduardo de Salazar biography was taxing and she knew it would take up most of her time and all of her energy. It would stop her from indulging in daydreaming and self-pity. So she threw herself wholeheartedly into gathering notes, pictures, articles and any other material she could get her hands on, all the while under the watchful and concerned gaze of Carmela. The days slipped quietly from one week into the next, except when unwelcome thoughts intruded on her peace, which was more often than she liked.

Leandro, as expected, remained elusive as the proverbial pimpernel. As much as it pained her deep down, true to his word he had not pursued her, but Luz did not go looking for him either.

Andrés had rung l’Estrella just as she had come in from the beach after a particularly vigorous ride on Zeyna to clear her mind. It was the first time they had spoken since she had walked hand-in-hand with him on the sand that night at Puesta de Sol, when they had parted with that strange charge between them that she so wanted to ignore.

‘Luz, I have to go away on business tomorrow.’ Hearing his strong, caramel voice again had given her that uncomfortable familiar reaction deep in her stomach. He sounded almost apologetic and she wondered what expression was in those mysterious dark eyes at that
moment. Perhaps he regretted the intimacy they had shared and was deliberately going away to avoid her.
Well, that made two of them.

‘Really? Are you going far?’ Why had she asked that? Not that she cared where he went and, in any case, she was relieved she wouldn’t see him for a while.

‘No, not far. I’ll be gone for a few weeks, though,’ He paused as if not knowing what to say, which Luz found surprising. ‘I just wanted to know how you’re getting on with the book.’

‘Things are progressing very well, thank you.’

‘And you don’t need anything else from me? You’ll be all right while I’m gone?’ His tone was soft, concerned even.

‘Yes, of course. In any case, I need to build up my notes more before we speak again.’

‘Luz … I …’ Andrés paused again and something in his voice made her fervently hope he would not ask to meet up before his departure.

‘Yes, Andrés?’ She almost snapped the words, irritated he was saying nothing and inexplicably annoyed that he would be gone for so long. Suddenly she wanted the conversation to be over so that she wouldn’t have to think about him, or the way he might have looked at her right then had they been face to face.

‘Nothing. I look forward to seeing you when I’m back, I’m sure we’ll have much to talk about by then.’ She had waited for his customary note of amused arrogance to surface, when she would visualize the devilish gleam in his eyes, but he seemed strangely subdued. This false-footed her, somehow, and she swiftly closed the conversation.

‘I’m sure we will. Goodbye, Andrés.’ She hung up the phone with some relief but couldn’t understand why the conversation had left her restless and thrown off balance.

A good part of a month had elapsed by now. Luz had gone back to El Pavón a couple of times. Both her parents had sensed that there was something untoward going on in their daughter’s life. They had tried to quiz her discreetly but were met with a brick wall. Since her return from England Luz had lost touch with the few Spanish
friends she had, fully absorbed as she had been in her personal life and work on the biography. Salvador and Alexandra encouraged her to reacquaint herself with her local social circle and get out of the rut she was in. Luz began to accompany her parents to parties at the haciendas of their friends near El Pavón and, when she took trips into Jerez, she would meet the people she knew there for tapas, even shopping jaunts – something she did not ordinarily enjoy much but now welcomed as a distraction.

Slowly the wound that had been painfully raw was beginning to heal, but fate had other plans for Luz. It came in the form of an invitation from Carlos Alvarez, the brother of her friend Alba, who had a house in Pamplona in the Navarre region, to watch the town’s Festival of San Fermin and the
Encierro
, the Running of the Bulls.

It had been on her mind to take a break and visit parts of Spain still unknown to her, and she hadn’t seen Alba, her closest friend in Spain, since she had returned. So when Alba rang to suggest they attended the
Sanfermines
, Luz welcomed this offer wholeheartedly, although it meant she would have to interrupt her work for a week as Navarre was a long distance from Andalucía in the north of Spain and the fiesta would go on for a whole seven days.

In all Luz’s visits back to her country, she had never been to the Pamplona bull-running festival and although bullfighting was not to her taste, the renowned
Encierro
was the centre of an exciting celebration where the whole town took to the streets in a colourful riot of music, dancing, eating and drinking that enveloped the place in a joyous party atmosphere. It would do her soul good to be among such high spirits, she decided.

‘Luz, I’m so glad you’re coming to stay!’ Alba squeaked excitedly to her friend down the phone. Still living at home with her parents, Alba found every chance to stay with her brother in Pamplona and having Luz to herself for a week to swap news and hear about life in England while enjoying the fiesta was clearly a delightful arrangement in every way. ‘It’s been such a long time. We have so much to catch up on. But are you sure it won’t get in the way of your work?’

‘I’m sure, Alba, don’t worry. Besides, I could really do with a break.’

Luz thought of Andrés and their conversation earlier. He would be away for a few weeks, enough time for her to catch up with her notes.

‘Excellent! Carlos and I will pick you up from the station the day after tomorrow at lunchtime. We’ll have a wonderful week.’

The sound of bands playing everywhere was the first thing Luz woke up to on the day of the
Encierro
in Pamplona. She rushed to the window. Dawn, pale, warm and sweet, was lighting the white streets. She could see it would be a brilliant gold and blue morning of sunshine and cloudless sky. It had rained a little during the night and the air was fresh and cool. Any strange, troubled thoughts still lingering in her mind evaporated as her eyes took in the scene on the street. Despite the early hour, the town was heaving with enthusiasts heading towards the bullring to await the arrival of the young men racing ahead of the bulls from their corrals.

Luz had been on edge for so long and now felt calmer than she had in weeks. It was good to be away from Cádiz and El Pavón, which were full of memories she longed to forget. As soon as Alba and Carlos had met her at the station in Pamplona, and hugs and animated greetings had been exchanged between the three of them, she could feel herself relax.

Carlos had given her such a bear-hug that her feet had left the ground and Luz thought her bones might crunch, so she couldn’t help but giggle as he eventually put her down. He had a round, rather boyish face, framed by unruly curly brown hair that made him look even more appealingly cherubic. She didn’t know him that well, certainly not as well as his sister, Alba, but she liked him and his easy, friendly manner always made her feel welcome whenever they met. Alba had lighter, almost blonde hair and a pretty, heart-shaped face that although not beautiful, was made
more attractive by her lively and expressive brown eyes, which had been wide with excitement at Luz’s arrival at the station.

Carlos, a banker who lived on his own, had a large, comfortable bachelor flat in the heart of the city. Luz had been given a lovely room that was light and airy, next door to Alba’s. She washed and dressed swiftly, eager to be part of the buzz and excitement that were growing by the minute outside. Pulling on jeans and a close-fitting sleeveless black T-shirt, she fastened a silky red scarf around her slim neck, all of which accentuated her golden tan and shapely figure. She quickly tied her hair back in a ponytail and went to see if her friends were up and about.

When she hit the street half an hour later with Carlos and Alba, there was already a great atmosphere of anticipation about the place, even though it was still only six o’clock in the morning. Balconies, the tops of buildings and every bit of spare ground were solid with clusters of people. The romantic sound of oboes coupled with the dull pounding of drums gave a haunting effect to the notes that echoed through the town. Wooden and iron barricades had been erected along the pavements and through the heart of the city to block off side streets so the bulls could not stray during the length of the run. There were gaps in some parts of the fences, narrow enough to block an animal but sufficiently wide for a person to slip through.