Under the Spanish Stars (23 page)

‘Please, don't feel you have to tell me everything. I won't be offended if you don't want to.' Though she wanted to know more because, despite the short time they'd known each other, Charlotte had grown to care for Mateo.

‘I cannot talk about Alicia with her clan because of their beliefs and I cannot talk about Alicia to Leila because she gets very upset.'

‘But talking about our innermost feelings helps us process so many things. Even if it's as simple as saying that the world can be horribly unfair and there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason about events that happen to us. Or the ones we love.' Where did this spring from? For someone who willingly admitted she lacked confidence in voicing her feelings, she seemed awfully good at telling others to do so.

Mateo drew his brows together, deep in thought. ‘Sometimes it is better to keep things to oneself.'

‘Sometimes.' She tilted her head to the side. ‘But what's the point in having friends if you can't talk to them about how you feel?' Charlotte felt like a hypocrite because even though she had friends, she couldn't honestly say she felt comfortable revealing her innermost feelings.

Mateo stared at an empty corner of the room. In a quiet voice, he said, ‘Maybe it is time.'

‘For?'

‘Maybe it is time I discussed the accident.'

‘Accident?' Her heart went out to him.

‘Yes.' He placed his palms on his thighs and pushed his hands back and forth. Mateo didn't speak for a long while but Charlotte remained quiet and still, giving him as much time as he needed to summon courage. Eventually, Mateo cleared his throat. ‘First, you must know that when I was young I had no interest in flamenco, but a friend took me to see Alicia perform. The moment I saw her I knew we would be together.' He took a deep breath. ‘You must understand that although we are of the same nationality our worlds were very different and we had resistance from both sides. A modern day Romeo and Juliet, in a way.' He swallowed hard and Charlotte reached for the bottled water beside her and passed it to him. He took a swig. ‘Thank you.'

‘And thank you, Mateo, for being so open.'

His lips almost twitched into a smile of acknowledgement. ‘Her love for flamenco inspired me to pick up the guitar and that is when I found a piece of me I did not know was missing. We made a great team.' He sighed and stared at the closed curtains. ‘Alicia was a daredevil. She lived for adventures, including dangerous ones like the …' He put his arms above his head and frowned, as if struggling for the word.

‘Parachuting?'

‘She had planned to do it. Alicia loved speed—motorbikes were her favourite.' He relaxed his arms by his side.

‘Did she die doing something adventurous?'

‘Alicia, she did many dangerous things but it was a silly accident that killed her.'

She wanted to give him a hug but didn't know how he would react given the current topic of conversation. Bloody hell, since when had hugging become so complicated?

He sniffed then said, ‘I had gone to the community to meet with
El Jefe
to try to convince him once more that I was not a bad influence in Alicia's life. Just as I arrived I saw Alicia and her cousin in the field. He had a cart and horse, very old-fashioned but that is what he liked, and the horse was very angry. They tried to calm him down but it ran and the cart knocked Alicia down … and … and …' Mateo brought his hands to his face and he bowed his head.

Charlotte edged forward on her chair, unsure whether he wanted comfort or to be left alone. Deciding to go with her gut, she got up then sat on the bed next to him, placing a hand on his back and rubbing gently.
‘If you need to stop, it's okay.'

‘No.' He straightened his spine and took a deep breath. Staring at the floor, he said, ‘It is good to talk about this. I will continue.'

Charlotte rested her hands in her lap and she wondered whether he'd stalled because it took him so long to start again.

‘When Alicia fell to the ground the horse ran and the cart …' He sucked in air then let it out slowly. ‘The horse broke free and the cart fell on her.'

‘Oh Mateo, I'm so, so sorry.'

‘Do not be sorry, it is—'

‘Not my fault.' She smiled and he wrapped his fingers around hers.

‘She was alive but the cart had her pinned on the ground. Her cousin, he was with the shock and did nothing, so I found the strength to lift it off her.'

‘That must have been incredibly heavy.'

‘I had to save her but …' He squeezed her fingers so hard pins and needles stung her. ‘She survived, but the injuries … they were very bad. The doctors said there was nothing they could do.'

Resisting the urge to tell him again how sorry she was, Charlotte extracted her hand from his and put her arm around his shoulder. His body relaxed under her touch and he leant against her.

‘I never left her side when she was in the hospital and that is when the clan realised I loved her with all my heart. Everything changed then. They accepted me into their world but it was too late for me and Alicia.'

‘Are you upset that it took something like this for them to finally accept you?'

Mateo moved away and locked eyes with her. ‘No. It is their way. The clan and I did not understand each other but Alicia and flamenco brought us together. For that, I am thankful. The Giménez clan are my family now.'

No wonder he connected so much with flamenco. Perhaps that kept him tied to Alicia. ‘I appreciate you sharing something so painful with me.'

As he puffed out his cheeks the light caught his glassy eyes. ‘You have a very good ear for listening, Charlotte Kavanagh.'

‘Why thank you, Mateo Vives.' The heavy cloud that had hung above them lifted. ‘Back in a moment.'

She dashed to the bathroom and returned a few minutes later to find Mateo's head bowed, hands covering his face.

‘Mateo?' Charlotte put her arm around his shoulders and they shook under her light touch.

‘Maybe I was not ready to talk about it,' he mumbled.

‘Perhaps not but you've done it now.'

His body slumped against hers and he laid his head on her shoulder. Charlotte gently ran her fingers through his thick hair, tuning in to his sorrow. The tap dripped in the bathroom, a slow, gentle rhythm, reminding her of one of the
palos
she'd heard Mateo play. What was it?
Siguiriyas
? A
palo
about tragedy and desolation?

Jolting upright, he said, ‘I need to go.'

‘Uh … okay.' She withdrew her hand. Did she push too far with the consoling?

Mateo bent over and gave her a peck on the cheek. He grabbed his jacket, opened the door and made a swift exit.

Charlotte sat on the bed, blinking. What had just happened? Had going into counselling mode scared him off? Or did he just need space to clear his head? After all, Mateo had just offloaded four years worth of grief.

Getting up and walking to the window, she opened the curtains and searched the empty street below. Mateo was long gone and with him, any chance of finding answers tonight.

1944—Katarina

Federico strode into the dressing room, only stopping to kick the door closed behind him. He sat on the chair, picked up the perfume on the table, opened the lid, sniffed it then put it down. ‘Were you told about the change of order in the program?'

‘Yes, thank you.' Her voice held more confidence than she felt. After receiving the letter from her fictional flamenco teacher in France, she and Raul had studied the codes and planned ways for them to be incorporated into the choreography. The steps were simple and to the unsuspecting eye, they appeared to be moves any flamenco dancer of her calibre would perform, but it was the combination that created the message.

She waited for him to say more, but he sat in silence, watching her apply stage makeup. Katarina didn't feel unnerved by his presence but it concerned her the way Federico had been so preoccupied recently. Originally she'd put his erratic mood swings down to financial pressures because the elusive Lobo Brothers had lowered the cost of tickets to get people through the door. This must have pained Federico. But now the company performed to a packed house every night, yet he remained cranky and everyone suffered for it. However, there was something else about him that made her uneasy. She wished she could put her finger on it, but reading Federico was like trying to decipher braille. Then again, chances were she was just projecting her own nervousness.

Federico adjusted his position in the chair, leant forward then shifted back. A small notebook fell onto the floor and she picked it up, but he snatched it out of her hands and quickly shoved it back in his jacket pocket.

‘Can't lose my accounting now, can I?' His smile seemed forced.

‘No, I guess not.' She feigned indifference, but wondered why he would constantly carry his accounts around in a small book.
Stop being paranoid, no one could possibly know what you're doing.

‘Right.' Federico stood and adjusted his tie. ‘You're on in an hour.'

Katarina nodded and turned to the mirror, using the reflection to watch him leave. No sooner had the door closed than it opened and in walked Raul, sporting the same apprehensive expression he'd worn for the past three days.

She applied lipstick with a shaky hand. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, she asked, ‘Are you all right?'

‘I'm …' He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground.

She placed the lipstick on the table then turned around and rested her buttocks against the edge. ‘Are you having second thoughts?'

‘What we plan to do is a massive risk.' He didn't lift his gaze from the floor. ‘I worry about you. About us.'

‘But we're doing it for the greater good. Nothing worth doing is without risk.'

‘That's not true.' His eyes met hers. ‘Loving you is without risk.'

‘That's also with risk, Raul. I could be hit by a truck tomorrow or fall and hit my head and not know who you are or—'

He held up his hand, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. ‘I get the picture.' Wrapping his fingers around hers, he held on tight. ‘This mission is fraught with danger.'

‘And yet you spent so much time reassuring me it wasn't.' She tilted her head to the side. ‘What do you know that I don't?'

‘There's trouble near the French border.' He lowered his voice and moved closer, his freshly showered body oh-so-near hers.

‘What's happened?' Her pulse raced and the doubt he'd expressed now washed over her.

‘Our people near the Aran Valley have been making plans to clear a pathway for the Maquis to enter from France but Franco's men are suspicious. There've been arrests and …' Raul's voice trailed off and he looked at the wall. ‘You do not want to know.'

‘So it's even more vital for us to get this code out, right?'

Raul nodded. ‘I just … I should be doing this alone. It was crazy getting
you involved. I should have stuck by the promise to myself to keep you removed from all this.'

‘So that's why you tried to push me away after we met at the theatre? You wanted to shelter me from your past that is still very much your present?'

He nodded and it all made sense. She admired his desire to protect her but events in her own past had hardened her to the realities of the world. Katarina wasn't a privileged unassuming young woman any more, she had strength and experience. She needed a companion who understood and believed in the same causes—and she had that in Raul.

She ran her hand down the side of Raul's face and looked into his beautiful eyes. ‘We are in this together, no matter what.'

Glancing over at the guitar case in the corner of the room she decided now was as good a time as any. She reached for it and handed the instrument to Raul. ‘For you.'

Placing the case on the chair, he gently opened the latches and took out the rosewood masterpiece that she'd ordered from his favourite craftsmen. ‘This is magnificent. Where did you … how could you afford—'

‘Just know that this is given to you out of love.'

‘I don't know what to say …' Raul caressed the guitar then placed it on his knees, strumming the finely tuned strings.

‘You don't need to say anything. In fact, that is why I chose to give you this. I can't put into words how I feel so I chose a gift that reflects my sentiments.'

‘It will always stay with me as will your love. Thank you,
fuego de mi alma
, fire of my soul.'

Smiling, she said, ‘Now, we must get ready.'

Raul placed the guitar in the case then wrapped his arm around her waist, nuzzling her neck. ‘You have stolen my heart.'

‘And you've stolen mine.' She used her hip to push him away. ‘Now go!'

She turned around to reapply lipstick even though she didn't need to. Through hot tears she used the mirror to watch him exit as the door closed quietly behind him. Tonight could change their lives forever and the magnitude weighed heavily. So much could go right. So much could go wrong.

Sitting on the chair, she stared at the painting her father had given her.
Speaking to the woman leaping over the flames, she asked, ‘Am I doing the right thing?'

* * *

Federico strode onto the stage, parted the curtains and disappeared. With his usual salesman-like charm he announced
La Flama
, Raul and Salvador. Elena, the new
palmista
, nervously opened and closed her hands in readiness to accompany the group with her rhythmic clapping.

‘What is with you tonight?' Salvador sidled up to Katarina.

‘Nothing. Why?' She should have known Salvador would pick up on her energy.

‘You seem on edge. Are you right to dance?'

‘Of course I am.' She faked a cough. ‘My throat feels a little scratchy. Maybe I'm coming down with an illness.'