Blood in the Valencian Soil (Secrets of Spain) (8 page)

Paco’s face screwed up. “Vaguely.”

“That was Fabrizio Merlini. Luna was his wife.”

Paco fell silent for a moment. “I am sorry to hear that. But…”

“But even so, I’m in love with her! I know how crazy that sounds. You know I’m not one to speak like this, not to anyone. Papá, you only have to look at her and you will understand. There is something about Luna, like she is someone I already know. I swear to God…”

“I swear to God that you want this New Zealand girl to seduce you. Think with your head, Cayetano.”

“I seduced her,” Cayetano shot back.

“Jesucristo en el cielo,” Paco swore under his breath. “She is as loose as the other women from her country.”

“Papá! Just because you knew one woman, once, who was from New Zealand, and you didn’t like her, doesn’t mean a thing. I don’t know where you get your ideas from, but you have her all wrong. She is a good person, and strong, and a dedicated mother…”

“She has children? A gold-digger then…”

“Damn it!” Cayetano yelled as the pair reached Paco’s car parked near the entrance to the park. “Is it too much to ask to get a bit of support from you?”

Paco fumbled in his pocket for his keys and eyed his son again. “When did you meet her?”

“Three weeks ago.”

“Before your goring.”

“The day before.”

“I couldn’t get hold of you the night before your performance. That morning you were late for preparation… were you with this woman? This grand seduction you speak of maybe? Did you fall and destroy the Beltrán name because you were with this woman who gives it away for free?”

“I’m walking home. I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can’t walk, it’s miles. You will hurt your leg.”

“It can’t hurt any more than you hurt me, Papá,” he replied, and turned away from his father.

“That suits me just fine. Maybe you can have a moment to think about how you’re being ridiculous.”

Cayetano hobbled away from his father,
and didn’t bother to look back. He would walk with his cane all the way to Valencia just to prove his father wrong. He was in love with Luna. He had only seen her a few times, and his father was right – he didn’t know her. Yet, somehow there was something that bound her to him.

Once around the corner and out of sight, Cayetano stopped and leaned against the wall of the building. He rested his cane against the rough old brickwork and pulled his phone out, and flicked through the numbers. Luna Montgomery. It had been a week since she had left his kitchen. He had just admitted to his father – and himself – that he was in love with her, so there was no reason not to call her.

Fidgeting with his cane, Cayetano looked around him at the others going about their day on the street as the phone rang and rang. Now he had worked up the courage, she wasn’t going to answer. Maybe she was at work. He could almost imagine her on her bike – yellow she had said it was – in the park that weaved through Valencia city, as she pointed out the sights to English tourists. When the call clicked over to the answerphone, he became struck with panic. Leave a message? And say what?

“Hola, este es Luna Merlini. Me dejan un mensaje.
This is Luna Merlini. Please leave me a message.”

Screw it.
There was only thing to do – go to Valencia.

7

Cuenca, España ~ marzo de 1939

Luna Beltrán stood in her bedroom and looked at her dress that hung on the single hook on the wall. It had hung there for some time, and she had wanted to wear it to the annual fiesta. It was made of beautiful, pure white full-length silk, which was something hard to get hold of at the moment. It was overlaid with delicate white lace, with delicate lace sleeves. Her father had got it made in Francia for Luna while she cared for her ailing mother. No one else had a beautiful dress like this. Luna knew that she lived in a nation where every day could be your last, but to have something so simple yet so precious lifted her spirits. The dress was a reminder of a better time than now. This white dress in Luna’s room was the single thing she owned that reminded her that life could be different. Better.

It
was almost time to head up to the plaza for the town meeting that had taken the place of the now cancelled fiesta, but Alejandro and Sofía were nowhere to be found. Her brother had gone to the hospital to meet his wife when she finished her shift, and neither had returned. Go on, Luna. Try on the dress. Of course, there was no reason to wear it tonight. This year they would bring the remaining people of the town together, who would get emotional about how they would to fight to save their lives.

She changed into the gown and felt the softness of it against her body. If the day came that she had to flee Cuenca, the dress would be the only thing she would take with her.

She turned sharply at the sound of a knock on the door. Alejandro had probably forgotten his key again. He did it all the time. No doubt her brother would tease her about the dress again. It had been Sofía’s wedding dress, but she wouldn’t mind Luna wearing it.

“La chispa.”

Luna’s eyes widened in surprise when she opened the door. There stood Cayetano Ortega; he looked all tidied up for a change. He wore a simple black suit, complete with tie. When he said he would dress up on the night of the fiesta, he had meant it. His curly black hair was shining under the single light that hung outside the door, and was bright as his smile. La chispa. The spark. “What is la chispa?” she asked.

“You are. You’re the spark that sets off a blazing fire in me.”

Luna couldn’t help but giggle and look away from him. Her cheeks that felt as if they were on fire. She had no idea what it was about her brother’s friend. She had known him for years. He had come to Cuenca from Madrid 10 years ago, when he was only 15, and alone. He was charming, and funny, and sensual, and so, so wrong for her. He was the man she couldn’t lust after. She had once been a  proud Catholic girl – she shouldn’t have lusted after anyone. She was old enough to know that all women lusted for men, and this man, who was clearly very interested in her, was the man she loved. Not the man she had promised to marry at her father’s request.

“Alejandro isn’t here,” she said. “He has gone to the hospital to get Sofía.”

“That was a while ago,” Cayetano frowned. “He left me at the Libertad on the corner at least half an hour ago.”

“You and Alejandro keep that bar in business. Any time I need to look for him, I know to check the Libertad.”

“We men have much to discuss.”

“You mean you and Alejandro talk on and on about all the bullfighting you both love but don’t get to enjoy anymore?”

“That also. We don’t want to trouble you fine ladies with the details.”

“You take Scarlett to the bar.”

“Señorita Beltrán, are you jealous?”

“Jealous? No,” she scoffed. “That bar is disgusting, as are the men who frequent the place.”

“Men like me? I might head back there now. They have a fire, unlike my place. It’s cold out here.”

Luna rolled her eyes. The cheeky look on his face was too sweet to deny. “Come in, the fire is on.”

Cayetano stepped inside the dark living room and went straight over the dull orange glow of the fire in the stove and held out his hands, and felt them tingle in response to the warmth. “Thank you,” he said to Luna and watched her close the front door. “I realise it’s improper for me to come in when you’re at home alone.”

“It’s you, Cayetano.” Luna stepped carefully over the wooden floorboards in her long dress. “I trust you.” It was herself that she didn’t trust.

“You shouldn’t. I don’t trust myself. I have done things I’m not proud of.”

“There’s a war on. What goes on in wartime is against all the rules that we live by. After all the battles you’ve fought in, the world can’t be the same for you.”

“So… if I said that I came around here, even though I knew that Alejandro wasn’t home… would you mind?”

“Why would you do that?” she said. Her heart jumped in her chest. She knew why; she hoped so anyway.

“Because I have sat by for years, watching you at every opportunity. People are scared of what is about to happen. Life is about to change for us, and I have wasted too much time.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Republicano leaders have left to live in exile, in Francia. We have been abandoned by those whose cause we fight. It’s bad enough that the Británico government endorsed the Nacionales government a few weeks ago. As soon as Franco’s troops get here, they will take our town, and that’s it. They will win. We are all as good as dead.”

Luna ran her hands over her dress and took in the information. It felt so stupid to want the chance to wear a gown to a party when their lives were in danger. “We have to get Papá out of Madrid.”

“I’m trying,” Cayetano replied and took a few steps over to her. “But an anarchist leader as well-known as Juan Pablo Beltrán is of course in danger. As soon as he is here, we are all going to go to Valencia, and hopefully we can get on a boat and out to Francia. Maybe then we can hide out somewhere. Scarlett is desperate to go home to Nueva Zelanda because… she… she just needs to get out of España. It’s been unkind to her.”

“I thought Scarlett would have run to the front lines, gun in hand, to fight again.”

“Sí, however, this time she can’t. She doesn’t want to abandon España, but it’s complicated. She has to leave.”

“I don’t want to abandon España,” she said with defiance. “None of us should.”

“I would kill every soldier to save us if I could do it, Luna. But we need to face reality – we will lose this war. Our chances of success are hindered now that the troops have got through to Vinaròs and cut Valencia off from Barcelona. We’re trapped.”

“The
rebels haven’t taken Madrid.”

“Not yet they haven’t. I just want to move you all o
ut to Valencia.”

“You and Alejandro want to take up arms again, don’t you?”

“I doubt it would help. I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry that I never danced with you when I had the chance.”

“I wish you had asked me. I wish Alejandro or Papá would have allowed it. Juan Pablo and Isabel lost seven children. Alejandro and I were the only ones who made it to adulthood. You can’t blame them for being over-protective.”

“I suppose that Juan Pablo thinks he has found a good husband for his daughter in Ignacio. He doesn’t want a man like me for you.”

Luna could barely swallow;
a lump of nerves was stuck in her throat. She shouldn’t have let him inside. It wasn’t proper. She was a good girl, but it was as Cayetano said – they could all be dead very soon. The laws of propriety no longer applied. If the Republicans lost the war, their deaths would be brushed over in the annuals of history, and Cayetano and Luna would be just numbers lost in a war that the world had ignored for their own gain. Only Hitler and Mussolini were allowing their countries to engage in the war, and that brought nothing but misery. “Dance with me now.”

Cayetano stepped forward and stood all but against her. “I’m afraid I’ve never danced before.”

Luna took his right hand and placed it on her hip and took his left in hers. She tenderly placed her other hand on his shoulder. “Like this,” she said, not sure how close to stand to him, she had only ever danced with her father and brother before now. There was no use in showing him the steps; they could do no more than the slightest shuffle in the tiny dark room. What their feet did was irrelevant to her anyway. She was with the man who awakened her.

“Did you know that love is like water?” he whispered in her ear. He watched her soft brown eyes look up at him innocently. She was so beautiful, so delicate; too good for him. She was Alejandro’s sister and Alejandro had told him not to touch Luna, but he couldn’t help himself. Alejandro knew about the night Cayetano had spent with Scarlett in Requena. That was proof to Alejandro that Cayetano would never be faithful to Luna. That night with Scarlett was a
simple mistake, a moment of comfort. Everyone knew Cayetano wasn’t good enough for Luna Beltrán, except Luna. He wanted to be good enough for her. He would have done anything to change who he was to be a proper suitor for her affections.

“How is it like water?”

“Because you can fall in it and you can drown in it. I know that I can’t live without your love.”

“If you send us away to Valencia, I might never see you again.”

“The things that we love always leave us. Holding on to love is like holding on to sunlight – it can’t be done. The love you have in your heart can never leave. All you can truly ever have is the love that you have inside you. The love I have moves through my veins, and it’s so powerful that it burns me.”

Cayetano pulled her body
against him and brought his lips to hers. He knew she would be inexperienced; probably had never been kissed before, but the moment his lips lay over hers, he felt her respond. There was an unleashed fire inside Luna Beltrán, a fire she had saved up.

Cayetano reluctantly let her mouth go, and watched her run her tongue over her lips that continued to command his full attention. He loved her so much, and it had always been from afar until tonight. “I have something for you,” he said. His hands left her back and fumbled in his pocket and pulled it out. The ring. The Medina ring would be safe with Luna. “I love you, Luna. This is all I have in the world, and I want it to be yours, along with my heart.”

Luna looked down at his hand, and her eyes widened. A ring. Not just any ring either. A diamond, and a huge one at that. Cayetano had honourable intentions for her. That was a fortunate thing, because tonight she would have agreed to anything.

“Marry me,” Cayetano whispered.

“Caya… where did you get this?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Luna said, unsure of what to do. “It’s a diamond.”

“It’s a white solitaire. A man named Sergio Medina gave it to me. We helped his family out to Valencia just before Christmas. He gave me this as a thank you, and as a hand-up in the world. They are an extremely wealthy family.”

“That’s quite a thank you!”

“Well, let’s say the man owed me a favour. I don’t know what is
going to happen now, but I need this to be safe. I want the ring to be on your hand, with you as my wife.”

“But I have to marry Ignacio.”

“You don’t have to do anything, la chispa. Run away with me instead.”

Luna looked up at Cayetano’s hopeful expression. He said it with all the sincerity in the world. Ignacio didn’t have an ounce of sincerity in him. “Sí. I will run away with you.” She watched him slip the ring on her finger, and his hand shook against hers.  “I’m scared, Caya.”

“Don’t be,” he said and brought his hand to her cheek. “We’re going to get out of here, and never look back. We’re going to be safe. I will protect you, I promise. I love you, Luna, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“I want to show you how much I love you,” she whispered.

“No,” he stuttered. Did he really just say no? “I wouldn’t expect you to…”

“I want to. If we are all going to die, then I want to die as a woman.”
Luna brought her not-so innocent lips to his. She felt hot against him when he drank her in, tasting her sweet and spicy lips. She trembled in Cayetano’s arms, and it only served to tease the desire that seared through him. She had a power in her that made the desire in him grow impatient in an instant. He had a dozen reasons to stop her, and only one to give in to her wish. She was right – he could be dead tomorrow.

Their elaborate and romantic outfits seemed heavy and cumbersome as Cayetano led her through to her bedroom. Cayetano managed to take his hands off her long enough to remove his jacket, and tossed it on the floor. He felt her little hands go to the knot in his tie, but she obviously didn’t know how to untie one. He helped her undo the tie and then started und
id the buttons on his plain shirt. Her eyes watched intently as his body become exposed in front of her. There was no sense of apprehension in the way she touched him. The apprehension came from him. He shivered as her small hands wandered down his chest and rested on his belt buckle.

“Are you sure?” he asked.
This would be the first time she had ever been with a man. This wasn’t like all the women that came before Luna. Those women were in it for a quick thrill, just like Cayetano was. “We can wait…”

“I don’t want to wait,” she whispered, and brought her lips to his
again. Her heart pounded with exhilaration, and she knew that she wanted nothing else than to be swept away in the moment. “Make love to me.”