Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree (11 page)

After searching around the lobby his gaze finally settled on the strikingly beautiful young woman reading a magazine in the corner. He scrutinized her

for a moment. She was aware of his stare and felt her cheeks burn. Anna never looked her best when she blushed; her face and neck went red and blotchy in spite of her carefully applied make-up. However, he found her strangely intriguing. She looked like a girl playing at being a woman. Her makeup didn’t fit, nor did her dress. Yet there she sat with the sophistication of an English aristocrat.

He wandered over to where she was sitting and flopped into the leather armchair next to hers. She felt him beside her and her hands trembled. His presence was so strong it overwhelmed her and the spicy scent of his cologne made her head spin. He noticed her magazine quiver and found himself falling in love with this pale young woman who was a stranger to him. He said something in a foreign language and his voice was deep and commanding. She caught her breath and lowered her magazine. Was he talking to her? When she looked at him he noticed her blue-grey eyes; there was something wild in their expression and he felt the sudden urge to struggle with her and tame her like one of his ponies back at Santa Catalina. She blinked at him apprehensively.

‘You are too beautiful to be sitting on your own,’ he told her in a heavy accent. ‘I am meant to be meeting someone, but he is late. I am glad he is late. I hope he doesn’t come at all. Are you waiting for someone too?’ She looked at his hopeful face and replied that she was waiting for her mother and aunt to come down for tea. He looked relieved.

‘You are not waiting for your husband, then?’ he said and Anna noticed the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He looked down at her left hand and added, ‘No, you are not married. I am very happy.’

She laughed and lowered her eyes again. She knew she shouldn’t be talking to a stranger but there was an honesty in his expression, or at least she thought she saw honesty and anyway, she was in London, the city of romance. She hoped her mother and aunt would take their time and give her a few more minutes. She had never seen such a handsome man in all her life.

‘Do you live here?’ he asked.

‘No. I’m just here for the weekend. To shop and ...’ She wondered what rich girls might be in London for and added, ‘To see the museums and churches.’ He seemed impressed.

‘Where are you from?’

‘Ireland. I’m from Ireland.’

‘I’m away from home too.’

‘Where are you from?’ she asked and his face glowed when he told her.

‘I am from God’s own country, Argentina. Where the sun is the size of a giant orange and the sky is so big it’s a reflection of heaven itself She smiled at the poetry of his description. He looked so deeply into her eyes that she felt powerless to turn herself away. She suddenly panicked that he might leave and she would never see him again.

‘What are you doing here then?’ she asked, feeling her throat tighten with emotion. Please God, don’t let him leave, she prayed. Give us more time.

‘I’m studying. I’ve been here since two years, and in all that time, I have not returned home.
Imaginate!
But I love London,’ he said, then his voice tailed off. He held her gaze with his before adding impulsively, ‘I want you to see my country.’ She giggled nervously and looked away, but when she turned to him again she saw that he was still looking at her.

Her mother and aunt stepped into the lobby and looked around for Anna Melody. Then Aunt Dorothy saw her, sitting in the corner, deep in conversation with a strange young man.

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Emer, what is she up to now? What would poor Sean O’Mara say if he saw her talking like that with a strange man? Look at the

face on her. We shouldn’t have left her on her own.’

‘Sweet Jesus, Dorothy!’ exclaimed Emer hotly. ‘Go and get her before she compromises herself.’

Anna saw her aunt approach across the lobby like a Panzer tank and turned to her new friend in despair. He took her hand in his and squeezed it.

‘Meet me here tonight at midnight,’ he said and the urgency in his voice made Anna’s stomach disappear. She nodded eagerly in response before he got to his feet, bowed politely to Aunt Dorothy and made a hasty retreat.

‘In God’s name, Anna Melody O’Dwyer, what do you think yer doing talking to a stranger, handsome though he is?’ she gasped, watching him leave through the revolving door. Anna felt hot and weak, and very excited.

‘Don’t worry, Aunt Dorothy, this is London. There’s no law here against keeping a girl company while she’s sitting on her own,’ she replied confidently, but inside her nerves buzzed as if they were alive with electricity.

Anna sat dreamily through tea, scraping the silver spoon around her teacup absentmindedly. Aunt Dorothy buttered her third scone. ‘These are fine cakes. Fine cakes. Anna Melody, do you have to make that noise? It penetrates my eardrums in the most unpleasant manner.’ Anna sighed and sat back in her

chair. ‘What’s the matter with you? Too much shopping?’

‘I’m tired, that’s all,’ she replied and gazed out of the window, hoping that perhaps he might walk past. Just perhaps. She pictured his face and tried to hold it there, afraid that if she allowed it to swim about at the back of her mind it might sink and be lost for ever.

‘There, there, dear. We’ll go back to the hotel straight after tea. Why don’t you try a hot buttered teacake. They’re quite delicious,’ her mother suggested gently.

‘I don’t want to go to the theatre tonight,’ Anna said petulantly, sulking into her tea. ‘I’m too tired.’

‘You don’t want to see
Oklahoma!?
Good God, Anna, most girls yer age don’t get to London, let alone the theatre,’ snapped Aunt Dorothy, rearranging the fox that appeared to be clawing its way down her bosom. ‘Those tickets were expensive.’

‘Dorothy, if Anna Melody doesn’t want to go to the theatre then she doesn’t have to go. It’s her weekend, remember?’ said Emer, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm. Aunt Dorothy pursed her lips together and snorted out of her nostrils like an angry bull.

‘Oh, and I suppose you’ll want to stay with her,’ she said crossly.

‘I can’t leave her by herself in a strange city. It’s just not fair.’

‘Not fair, Emer! We’ve spent good money on those tickets. I’ve been looking forward to
Oklahoma!
for ages.’

‘Well, let’s go back to the hotel and put our feet up for a while. Perhaps after that you might feel a bit better,’ said Emer, nodding at her daughter.

‘I’m sorry, Emer, I’ll put up with a lot, but when it comes down to money, I’m not going to let Anna Melody throw it away because she can’t be bothered. It’s nothing but sheer capriciousness, Emer, you and Dermot have let her get away with it all her life. It’ll do her no good, I warn you.’

Completely oblivious to her aunt’s annoyance, Anna crossed her arms in front of her and turned to look once again out of the window. She longed for midnight. She didn’t want to go to the theatre. She didn’t want to go anywhere. She wanted to sit in the lobby and wait for him.

Anna went to the theatre. She had to. Aunt Dorothy had threatened to send her straight back to Glengariff if she didn’t. After all, half the money was hers. So Anna had sat through the musical, ignoring the catchy tunes that would have

her mother and aunt singing merrily up the pavements for the next two days, silently working out how she was going to get to Brown’s Hotel in the middle of the night from South Kensington when she had no money of her own. He had obviously been under the impression that she was staying at Brown’s. She had to be there.

It wasn’t long before her mother and aunt were sleeping heavily in their beds back at the hotel. Aunt Dorothy began to snore loudly through her nose as she lay on her back. Once or twice a particularly loud snort nearly woke her; for a second she balanced between consciousness and unconsciousness before drifting back into her secret world of dreams. Emer, more delicate than her sister in both size and sound, slept quietly, curled up into a ball.

Anna stepped silently into her clothes, stuffed pillows down her bed to give the impression that she was there in case one of those snorts woke her aunt or mother, and rummaged around in Aunt Dorothy’s purse for some money. The concierge was most helpful; too polite to raise an eyebrow, he did as she asked and called for a taxi. Thanking him for his trouble, as if there was nothing unusual about her midnight outing, she sat in the back like a fugitive and watched the bright city lights pass by her window.

At a quarter to midnight Anna was sitting once more in the armchair in the corner of the lobby. Under her coat, she had on the new dress her mother had bought her in Harrods, and her hair was still pinned at the nape of her neck. The hotel was busy for such a late hour. A group of fashionable young people entered with an explosion of laughter. They must have been out on the town, she thought enviously. No one seemed to notice she was there. She placed her hand on the chair next to hers and ran her fingers over the leather imagining it still warm from when he had sat there with her. He had been so refined, a real gentleman. He had smelt of expensive cologne and came from an exotic land far away. He was cultivated, educated, handsome and obviously rich too. He was the prince she had dreamed of. She knew there was more to life than Sean O’Mara and dreary Glengariff.

Anna sat nervously watching the door. Should she look expectant or nonchalant? She decided she would look ridiculous if she tried to appear casual; after all, what else would she be doing in the lobby of the hotel at midnight? Then she wondered what she would do if he didn’t turn up. Perhaps he had played a joke on her. Perhaps he didn’t intend to meet her after all. He was probably out with his friends laughing about her. Laughing like her cousins laughed at her

back home in Glengariff.

As the clock chimed twelve Paco Solanas stepped in through the heavy hotel doors. He saw Anna immediately and his face creased into a wide smile. He marched over to her in his navy cashmere coat and took her by the hand.

‘I am happy you came,’ he said, his eyes sparkling under the rim of his hat. ‘So am I,’ she replied and felt her hand tremble in his.

‘Come with me.’ Then he hesitated.
^l
Por Dios!
I don’t know your name.’

‘Anna Melody O’Dwyer. Anna,' she replied and smiled. He found her smile completely captivating. It made him feel warm on the inside.
^l
Ana Melodfa
—
qu Undo.
That is a beautiful name, just like you.’

‘Thank you. What’s your name?’

‘Paco Solanas.’

‘Paco. Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,’ she replied shyly and he led her by the hand out into the night.

The weather had cleared towards the end of the day and they found themselves walking up the streets under a bright, starry sky. It was very cold; their breath misted in the frosty air, but neither of them felt it. They wandered up the empty back streets towards Soho, laughing and talking like old friends, then made their way down to Leicester Square along the glittering pavements still wet from the drizzle.

Paco held her hand all the time and after a while it no longer felt strange to her but more natural than it had ever felt with Sean O’Mara. He talked to her about Argentina, painting a rich picture in her mind with the enthusiasm and artlessness of a true storyteller. She told him little about Ireland. She felt that if he knew that she wasn’t rich like him he might lose interest in her and she couldn’t afford that. She had to pretend she came from a life of privilege. But Paco loved the way she was different from all the girls he knew back home and all the sophisticates he had met in the various cities of his travels. She was unrefined and carefree. When he kissed her he did so with the intention of removing her hideous lipstick.

Anna had never been kissed like that before. His lips were warm and wet, his face cold from the night air. He held her close and pressed his mouth to hers with a passion she had only ever seen in the flicks. When he pulled away and gazed down at her face he saw that he had kissed her make-up clean off. He liked her better that way.

They sat on the edge of one of the fountains in Trafalgar Square and he

kissed her again. He pulled out the pins from her hair and scrunching it in his hands he let it fall over her shoulders and down her back in wild, rolling curls.

‘Why do you tie your hair up?’ he asked, but before she could reply his mouth was on hers again, his tongue gently exploring her mouth with a fluid sensuality that caused her stomach to flutter as if the wings of a hummingbird quivered within. ‘Please forgive my English,’ he said after a while, holding her face with one hand and running the other down the hair that fell away at her temple. ‘If I could say this in
Castellano
it would sound more
poetico.
¹

‘Yer English is very good, Paco,’ she replied, then blushed at the sound of his name.

‘I don’t know you, but I know I love you.
Si, te quiero,'
he said, tracing his fingers down her cold cheek and looking into her features with incredulous eyes as if trying to discover the nature of the spell that captivated him. ‘When do you return to Ireland?’ he asked. Anna didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to contemplate never seeing him again.