The Exile (51 page)

That left her with the option of making the adoption public by including it in her report – the report Calderón had just agreed to publish. If the report named him, Ramiro would complain vociferously, although complaint would be too slight a term to describe his volcanic fury. Her defence would be simple: the brief from Calderón was to compile information on the
niños robados
scandal and to highlight Guzmán's involvement. Worthy aims, she knew, though Calderón's words still haunted her: everything came with a hidden cost.

And what a cost it would be. Going public would ruin Ramiro's career and his life. He and Aunt Teresa were the only family she had. If she did this, they would never speak to her again. What was more, she wouldn't blame them. Galíndez was still little Ana María to Ramiro. He'd never understand why she'd betrayed him. Certainly he'd never forgive her.

Two choices then. Destroy her remaining family ties or lie and conceal the evidence.

She stared into the lush colours of the Fuenteses' garden, torn between truth and family loyalty, knowing there was no contest. She would destroy the adoption certificate. Her way of repaying Ramiro for his kindness over the years. But betraying her principles hurt, it hurt a lot, and she clenched her fists, remembering Calderón's eyes the previous afternoon, pale and staring.

A hand closed on her arm. Galíndez spun round, fists raised defensively.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,' Merche said, shaken by her reaction. ‘Are you OK?'

Galíndez gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘I was miles away.'

‘I asked if you wanted a drink.'

‘
Agua con gas
, please.'

Merche went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of sparkling water, the ice clinking against the rim. She turned, hearing a sudden bang inside the kitchen. ‘Clari, you nearly smashed my best plates. Where did you get that ball?'

Clari kicked the football out onto the porch. ‘Ana gave it to me.'

‘Perhaps Ana will take you to play with it on the lawn.' Merche winked at Galíndez. ‘Damage limitation.'

‘Point taken.' Galíndez picked up the ball and punted it across the grass. Clari raced after it, squealing happily.

‘We really appreciate you looking after the girls tonight, Ana María.'

‘It's no trouble, Merche, I enjoy it.'

‘You know what? Inés always said she wanted a big sister. I think she's got one now.'

‘That's a nice thing to say.' Galíndez gave her a shy smile. ‘I'll do my best.'

‘Before we go, there's something I need to show you,' Merche said. ‘The gas.'

Galíndez had a sudden image of Ramiro's children and the boiler.

‘It's not dangerous.' Merche smiled, misreading her expression. ‘Just one of the disadvantages of living in the country, I'm afraid. Come on, I'll show you.'

Galíndez followed her into the kitchen and saw the row of fat metal gas cylinders, arranged by the door to the veranda.

‘There's not much left in the current cylinder,' Merche explained. ‘If it runs out, you need to replace it with one of these. It's that blue nozzle on top, see? But be careful, they're really heavy.'

‘No problem,' Galíndez said. She was going to use the microwave.

A car horn sounded outside and Merche snatched up her things. ‘God, Luis is so impatient. See you later, Ana.
Hasta pronto, niñas
.'

The girls ran up the drive, chasing their parents' car, waving until it disappeared over the brow of the hill.

Galíndez was waiting when they came back. She was holding a package. ‘Clari already got her present, so here's yours, Inés.'

‘
Gracias
, Ana.' Inés weighed the package in her hands. ‘It's heavy.'

‘Too heavy for summer,' Galíndez agreed, ‘but it was a such a bargain I couldn't resist.' She watched as Inés tore open the wrapping.

‘
Madre mía
, a leather jacket?'

‘It's from the flea market. I get mine at the same place.'

‘It's totally cool,' Inés said, pulling it on. ‘
Muchísimas gracias
.'

‘
De nada
.
Come on, let's take Clari outside and play with her ball.' Galíndez paused. ‘Maybe you should leave the jacket here, Inés, it's pretty warm out there.'

She followed the girls into the garden. Around them, the warm air pulsed with the sound of crickets. Near the boundary of the garden, the shadows of the cypress trees were slowly extending towards the house. She thought about getting a cold beer and sitting on the veranda to watch the sun go down. And then Inés screamed.

‘I'll throw you in the stream if you do that again, Clarisa Fuentes. Tell her, Ana María, she kicked the ball at me.'

‘Come on, girls,' Galíndez called. ‘Let's walk up to the top of the garden. Inés, let Clari have the ball and we'll kick it all the way up and then all the way back down again.'
And then back again, until it's time for dinner. And after that, you'll be ready for bed. I have a plan.

She glanced around the garden. Long shadows and bright pools of light, the murmur of crickets somewhere in a patch of tangled shrubs. Once the kids were in bed, she'd definitely slip out on the porch and have that beer.

The girls had almost reached the top of the garden and were kicking the ball, bored as they waited for Galíndez. She looked back down the garden towards the long lazy curve of the stream that disappeared into a knot of trees and bushes behind the house. She saw her car on the drive, the sparkle of sunlight on metal and glass and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face. She opened them again. Near the top of the drive something glinted with shards of brilliant light. A metallic blue four-by-four was parked by the gate. She stared, remembering the car passing the Fuenteses' gate the night she gave Inés her martial arts lesson. Returning again and again. And she remembered the CCTV footage of the car passing Carabanchel Metro after running down Adelina Solano. Her stomach tightened.

‘
Niñas
.
' The girls didn't hear so she raised her voice. ‘Come on, let's go back and get a drink.' Flushed and excited, the girls ignored her and carried on playing with the ball.

Galíndez looked back to the gate. The car was gone. Puzzled, she peered down the ochre strip of road into the distance and saw nothing. She realised she was holding her breath, listening for the sound of an engine.

Inés and Clari were waiting by the perimeter of the garden where the hedge met the ramshackle stone wall that marked the upper boundary of the property. Galíndez suddenly felt vulnerable at being so far from the house.
I'm probably being stupid. But still
...

A sudden flash of light. A car coming along the road. Light blue, metallic paint. Tinted windows. She frowned. People didn't just drive up and down like that. Didn't keep parking across the drive of the only house for several kilometres. But there were plenty of blue cars in the world, for fuck's sake. Perhaps someone was trying to spook her? If they were, it was working. She reached into her pocket, fumbling for her phone. Then she remembered. The phone was in her bag in the house.

‘
Niñas
, time for a pizza.' Trying to sound authoritative.

The car was getting nearer, slowing.

‘
Niñas, por favor
,' Galíndez yelled. And then much louder, ‘
Vamos, señoritas
.' She turned towards the house, hurrying them along, feeling like their teacher.

She wondered how many were in the car. If it was one guy she could probably handle him, two even. But what if they were armed? She breathed slowly, considering the alternative, that they were joyriders or kids from one of the houses along the road. They hadn't done anything, for God's sake, she thought, brushing her hair away from her face. Yet.

Something was eroding her usual confidence and she realised what it was. The girls. If she was alone, she could just take off into the countryside if she had to. She had no doubt she could outrun anyone in this terrain. But running wasn't an option. She was responsible for the children. If anything happened to them, she would have to explain to their parents. That responsibility felt strange and uncomfortable.

‘Why are you walking so fast?' Inés asked, panting for breath.

Galíndez pointed. ‘See that car?'

‘Yes?' Inés nodded, her voice suddenly uncertain.

‘I'm worried about it.'

‘You think they might be, like, crooks or something?'

‘I'm probably wrong,' said Galíndez. ‘Does your papa keep a gun in the house?'

Inés nodded. ‘It's in his wardrobe but we're not allowed to go near it, ever. We can't even open the door or we'd be in big trouble.'

‘Don't worry,
chica
, I'm
guardia
, like your papa. I know how to use a gun.'

‘Yeah,' Inés said. ‘But you're a girl.'

The car would reach the gate in a minute at most.

‘Let's run,' Galíndez said. ‘First prize is two slices of pizza.' She kicked the ball, sending it flying towards the house. ‘I said run.' The girls hesitated but Galíndez's next shout left no room for argument.
‘
Run when I tell you, for God's sake.
'

Clari was too small to keep up and Galíndez scooped her into her arms and sprinted down the slope with Inés racing after her as they ran full tilt across the sun-scorched grass, past Galíndez's car, clattering over the wooden veranda into the kitchen.

Galíndez turned the key in the door. ‘Go and lock the back door, Inés,' she gasped, trying to catch her breath. Inés hesitated. ‘Now,' Galíndez shouted.

Inés scuttled away. She returned a few moments later, pale-faced. ‘It's locked, Ana.'

‘Good girl. Now, let's look in your dad's wardrobe.'

‘Can't.' Clari was sitting on the floor. She shook her head. ‘Gun.'

‘
Vamos
.' Galíndez picked up Clari and carried her upstairs. Inés sighed and followed them to her parents' bedroom.

Capitán Fuentes had clearly taught his daughters about the danger of firearms since the girls stood on the far side of the room, watching unhappily as Galíndez opened the wardrobe door and rummaged inside. The pistol was in a cardboard box behind some shoes. Inside was an Star BM 9mm semi-automatic in a scuffed leather holster. Fuentes must have been issued this back in the day, she guessed. Despite its age, the pistol was solid and reassuring. She went to the window and looked up the drive.

‘Is it there, Ana?' Inés asked.

‘I can't see it,' Galíndez said. ‘Maybe they've gone.' She ruffled Clari's hair in a clumsy attempt at reassurance. When she turned back to the window, the car was about forty metres up the road, nestled against the hedge, the setting sun glinting on the metallic paint.

Inés fidgeted nervously. ‘Do you need Dad's big gun, Ana María?'

‘His big gun?' Galíndez turned to look at her. ‘What's that?'

‘The one he uses for rabbits.' Inés pointed to the wardrobe. Galíndez leaned in and saw a long metal box set flush into the rear panel. She tugged at the handle. ‘Where's the key?'

Inés retrieved a key from a drawer in the bedside table. Galíndez took it from her and unlocked the box. Inside was a shotgun, glistening with dark threat in the faint light. She lifted it out, checking it was unloaded. ‘
Joder
,' she muttered, weighing it in her hands. This was real firepower.

‘If Dad says a rude word, it's a euro in the swear box,' Inés said.

‘Rude,' Clari echoed.

‘Sue me,' Galíndez muttered. In the bottom of the wardrobe she found ammunition for the pistol and a carton of shotgun cartridges. She took another peek out the window. The sun was setting, dazzling her with a few last shards of light. The car hadn't moved.

‘Inés, take Clari, put some pizza in the microwave and then bring it back up here.'

Once the children were downstairs, Galíndez loaded both weapons. A few minutes later, the girls returned and sat on the bed, eating while she stood guard at the window, watching the car slowly blend into the shadows along the hedge.

Inés watched her intently, the slice of pizza never quite reaching her mouth. She was scared, Galíndez realised. It was time to do something.

‘Eat your pizza, Inés,' she said firmly. She went along the landing, retrieved her phone from the spare room and dialled 062. There'd be an instant response to an Officer in Trouble call. If it turned out to be a false alarm, they could put it down to nerves or her hormones, she didn't care. Fuck them.

She glared at the phone as she went into the bedroom. ‘
Mierda
, there's no signal.'

Inés shook her head. ‘You can't always get one out here.'

Galíndez went to the bedside table and tried the landline. No dial tone. She felt her stomach tighten. That was too much of a coincidence.

The girls watched, waiting for her to make things right, knowing that was what adults did. The kids needed calm and reassurance and here she was, clutching a pump-action shotgun. The girls' faces were already pale and tense. If things kicked off, they would be hysterical. She couldn't deal with the men in that car with the girls at her side. It was time to make a decision. Be the grown-up. She needed a plan.

‘Do you two have a hiding place when you're playing?' Galíndez asked.

‘Tree house,' Clari said, sucking a string of cheese from the end of her pizza.

‘It's not really a house,' Inés said. ‘You cross the stream and there are some thick bushes growing near the trees. Underneath them, there's a space where no one can see you.'