Indiscretion (25 page)

Looking away, she went to the window and took a deep breath.

‘I was at Marujita's,' she told him at last.

There was a pause. ‘And …?' he whispered hesitantly, as if fearing to hear more.

Though tempted, she refrained from telling Salvador that she'd seen him storm from the cottage. Instead, she said, ‘I went looking for Pablo this afternoon and found him there, but before I had the time to question him, Marujita turned up. She asked me to leave. I refused and we came to blows.'

There was a moment's silence. Finally, Salvador spoke.

‘You're even more reckless and foolish than I imagined.' His voice was icy, bitter now. ‘It may be how the English behave but, I can assure you, it is not our way.' And before she could turn to face him, he had left the room.

His words rasped in Alexandra's ears, sending a sharp pain through her heart. She knew that, somehow, she had failed him. Her throat tightened. ‘Salvador!' she called out in a strangulated voice, but he didn't hear her.

T
he day of the trip to Ronda dawned fresh and clear. They left Jerez in the early hours of Saturday morning in two cars. Doña María Dolores had suggested they went by train instead; although it would take them twice as long to get there, it would be more comfortable and safer for the ladies, the road being so steep and stony. However, Salvador had opted for the more adventurous route across the mountain roads, arguing that the journey was shorter and more private by car. Anyway, he argued, it would be of much greater interest, despite being somewhat hazardous. Besides, they were setting out more than twenty-four hours before the
corrida
, giving them time to stop on the way at places that would be helpful for Alexandra's research. He assured the dowager that the two drivers he had hired especially for the occasion were experts at this route, which they travelled regularly every week.

Mercedes and Esmeralda rode with Salvador, while Alexandra and Ramón brought up the rear in the second car. Now regretting her spat with Marujita, Alexandra would have preferred to make the journey with Salvador so that she could explain herself, but she had not been asked to join him. Quite plainly, he had decided to avoid her company again.

The days following Alexandra's argument with him had unfolded predictably. In the mornings, she went for long walks in the countryside around the hacienda. Her afternoons were more productive. Somehow, her writer's block had been lifted. Alexandra didn't know if it was due to her liberating tussle with Marujita or
perhaps some deeper, more gradual change in her psyche that had suddenly found its way to the surface. Everything had begun to flow again and although she had not spent much time on the book itself at last she could put down her thoughts, describe her feelings or sometimes, when she felt particularly creative, she would indulge in some poetry writing. The mad gypsy woman at the wake had at least been right about one thing. This was a vibrant, passionate land: the heat, the colours, the flamboyance of the people, the wild and mythical feel of the mountainous scenery, even the spectacular rise and setting of the sun. Everything took on dramatic proportions, leaving her senses buzzing.

Alexandra's own feelings had never been so vivid, so intense. Her outlook on life and her view of people had altered noticeably: if before she had been inclined to be slightly judgemental and stiff in her dealings with others — no doubt a result of her upbringing — her exposure to this highly demonstrative culture had now not only made her less so, but she also found herself bolder and even somewhat audacious. Spain had seeped into her blood, peeled away layers that had been suffocating her and, what was more, she liked this new, alive person she was discovering within herself.

Meanwhile, Salvador had retreated into his shell. Usually absent during the day, he often failed to put in an appearance at mealtimes, a tremendous feat at El Pavón. When their paths did cross, from time to time, he neither spoke to her nor did he look at her. It was as if she didn't exist; and although Alexandra had now grown accustomed to his volatile moods, she couldn't help but feel frustrated. She knew he was angry. Not only had she engaged Marujita in an undignified catfight, putting herself at risk, she had been perhaps more cutting in her comments to him than intended. Nevertheless, she found it unfair that he should judge her silently without giving her a chance to justify herself. Maybe in the heat of the moment, her embarrassed exasperation had come across somewhat petulantly. Still, that was no reason to treat her like an emotional adolescent. Did he think her so immature that she wouldn't be able to conduct a civil conversation?
Twice, she had glimpsed him alone on horseback, riding through the grounds of the hacienda. She had wanted to go up to him and confront him but his fierce aloofness had intimidated her and in the end she dared not make the first move.

Alexandra stared out of the car window at the rugged scenery of wild shrubbery and herbs, framed against a cobalt sky, and seethed with frustration.
The Devil take him!
she thought with a sudden burst of pride and indignation.

She made a valiant attempt to shake herself out of her mood; after all, it was a fresh sunny morning with spring budding in the air, she was on her way to attend a bullfight for the first time, and she had nothing with which to reproach herself. Even though things weren't going the way she might have hoped, she wouldn't waste any more energy worrying about Salvador's fluctuating moods. But her mind refused to relax, and she wondered what conversations were going on in the car ahead, and whether Mercedes was being her usual coquettish self. ‘You haven't uttered a word since we left,' remarked Ramón, who had been observing her frowning at the landscape for some time.

She forced a laugh, turning to look at him. ‘I'm not very chatty at this hour of the morning. I'm still pining for my pillow.'

‘I wondered if you were feeling carsick. I couldn't believe it when Salvador stubbornly insisted on this madcap route through the mountains. We'd have been travelling in comfort by train if he hadn't been so determined to impress you.'

Alexandra raised an eyebrow.

‘Why else do you think we're both being shaken around like beans in a jar?' Ramón grimaced as the car flew over yet another bump. ‘At least you would have been able to doze off in the train.'

She gave a look of mock contrition. ‘So I should apologize, in that case, for depriving you of a smoother ride.'

Ramón narrowed his eyes, slanting her a wry look.

‘I know what's bothering you. It's our charming cousin, isn't it? Don't deny it, I only have to look at your faces. You're a strange pair.
Half the time, you both behave as if you were in love, the way you look at each other, and yet …'

‘Ramón, let's forget Salvador today.'

He chuckled. ‘Nothing would please me better.'

Alexandra gazed out of the window once more. ‘What's Ronda like? I've read that it's one of the oldest cities in Europe.'

‘Ronda is the city of outlaws and bullfighters. And if you want to see a bullfight, of course Ronda is the place to be.' Ramón nudged Alexandra, offering her a flask of water. ‘Needless to say, the
corrida
is a very important part of Spanish culture. If you're here in September, you could see the
feria
Goyesca. That would be a real Spanish spectacle for your book,
mi primita
. Do you know Goya's paintings?'

She sipped some water and returned the bottle. ‘Some. A few of his portraits are in the National Gallery in London.'

‘You won't have seen his bullfight paintings then. Very realistic, even today. And at the
feria
Goyesca, everyone dresses in traditional eighteenth- and nineteenth-century costume. Some as
toreros
, others are spectators. There are parades, eating, drinking, dancing … it's all quite flamboyant. I think it would appeal to the romantic in you, even if you didn't care to see the bullfight.'

‘You're probably right, it does sound fascinating.' Alexandra looked thoughtful. ‘Tell me more about the
corrida
we'll be attending. Why does Felipe Herrera do it? He must be rich enough not to have to earn his living at such a dangerous sport.'

Ramón shrugged. ‘He does it for fun and for fame. He's been at it for five years. Felipe has great courage and outstanding talent, I'll give him that. Added to which, one has to admit he looks like an ancient god in all his glittering finery. It's no wonder he draws huge crowds whenever he fights.'

‘So he's famous round here?' Alexandra asked.

‘Very much so. The people also like him because he's a philanthropist: he gives the huge purses he wins to the Church. A shrewd gesture under this government, given he's such a public figure in Andalucía.'

‘He certainly sounds like an impressive young man.' Alexandra's eyes sparkled with excitement. ‘I've never been to a bullfight. As a spectacle, it's supposed to be incredible. I can't wait to see what it's really like.'

‘Well, you couldn't have found a more talented or courageous bullfighter to introduce you to our national sport,' Ramón told her, happy to note his cousin was smiling again.

‘Before leaving England I read a marvellous book about Spain. A whole chapter was devoted to bullfighting. It'll be interesting to compare it with the real thing and gather some local colour for my novel.' She glanced at Ramón playfully. ‘I hope you'll introduce me to the handsome Don Felipe?'

Ramón slanted a mischievous look at her. ‘If that's what you'd like, I will certainly do so, dear Cousin. You'll have ample time to get to know him at the evening reception his sister is holding in his honour after the
corrida
. I'm equally sure that Don Felipe won't miss the opportunity to seduce such a charming and beautiful young lady as you. He's a notorious womanizer and has broken many hearts, so be warned!'

Alexandra smiled at her cousin's characteristic impishness. She remembered when she had glimpsed Don Felipe at the masked ball that Ramón had labelled him a heartbreaker. Were all handsome Spanish men Don Juans in disguise? Still, the attentions of a dashing
torero
appealed to her sense of romantic intrigue, and it was hardly an unwelcome prospect, particularly if Salvador was bent on ignoring her for the whole trip.

The landscape began to lose its sparse, wild vegetation; soon the road was running through a rocky plain, even bumpier than before; rough and barren as pumice. In late spring, Ramón told her, a carpet of wild flowers would cover this scorched land. Thyme, broom and lavender would spread their aromatic scent through the air but at this time of the year, traces of greenery were still scarce. Only gnarled olive trees and other evergreens dotted the countryside. What an overwhelming contrast this arid wilderness presented against the lush brilliance of El Pavón.

They drove for hours through winding tracks in a dust-filled mighty landscape of strange rocks, which rose grotesquely on all sides, peak above peak, honeycombed occasionally with gaping caves. Suddenly, as both cars rounded a sharp bend, they met a small truck travelling at speed in the opposite direction. Quick as a flash, the driver of the car in front steered the vehicle sharply out of the way, aiming towards the edge of the road to avoid a collision. The truck, bouncing along at full pelt, missed Alexandra and Ramón's car by a hair's breadth.

The car swerved abruptly, tyres squealing, as the driver slammed on the breaks. It began to spin out of control. The engine stalled, and it screeched to a halt right at the very edge of a cliff, with one of its rear wheels hanging precariously over the sheer drop into a deep ravine.

Alexandra froze, her scream dying in her throat. Their driver had been hurled from his seat but, luckily for him, had rolled out of the car on to the stony verge. Alexandra, meanwhile, was huddled in the corner of her seat, too terrified to move. Suspended over the drop, on a crazy tilt, she stared at her slanted view of the ravine, wondering how she and Ramón, who was backed up against the opposite door, could possibly escape before the car plummeted to the bottom of the cliff. For a few seconds, all was strangely quiet.

‘Alexandra, are you all right?' Ramón's voice was shaky.

‘Yes, I'm fine … I think,' she told him though her heart was pounding.

‘I'm sorry, I can't move towards you. If I do, I'll tilt the car over,' he added.

Meanwhile, Salvador had leapt from his car. Shouts could be heard as he ordered Mercedes and Esmeralda to stay put, while the driver of their vehicle helped his colleague to his feet, making sure he wasn't hurt.

Salvador rushed to the other vehicle and peered anxiously through the open window. ‘Is anybody hurt? Are you all right?'

‘No one's hurt,' Ramón reassured him, ‘but I think it's going to be difficult getting out of here.'

‘Keep calm, don't move. Stay where you are until I've worked out how to get you out safely.' Now, Salvador rounded the vehicle. It was clear that Ramón couldn't leave it first or it would only tilt further as he shifted his weight. Alexandra must be helped out first.

Leading almost vertically downwards from the edge of the cliff, there were narrow ledges on the mountainside in stair-step fashion. Directly below Alexandra's door, a few feet down the slope, a short bushy tree with tightly-knit branches clung to a small patch of clear ground. Alexandra would have to jump out of the car, allowing the tree to break her fall; it would serve as a buffer between her and the ground.

Salvador came back to the window. His eyes settled on Alexandra's pale face as he stroked his lean jaw. ‘I'm afraid you're going to have to get out first and it will involve a few acrobatic feats,' he told her with an uneasy lift of his eyebrows. ‘
Pero no te preocupes mi bella dama
, but never fear my fair lady, your loyal knight in shining armour here will catch you,' he added, half-joking and half-reassuring; but the strain she glimpsed on his face told her that he was desperately trying to mask his concern.

She felt a tremor of fear run through her body but somehow managed to pull herself together and look cheerful. ‘Don't worry about me, Salvador. Just tell me what to do and I'm sure I'll be fine.' She laughed nervously before adding, ‘I was quite good at gymnastics at school.'

A smile touched Salvador's mouth. ‘
Espléndido
! I've worked out a plan.' His face then became serious again, his tone peremptory. ‘Listen carefully to what I say, and do exactly as I tell you.'

His last words were so true to character that, despite the critical situation, Alexandra couldn't help the spirited twinkle in her eye. ‘Your orders are my command,' she said with a hint of wryness, while Ramón gave an amused, if nervous, snort.

Ignoring the jibe, Salvador went on with his instructions.