Under the Spanish Stars (32 page)

The man pulled out a wad of paper from his back pocket and waved it in the air. Cristina strode up to him and brandished a fist in front of his face, while Mateo yelled at her to back down. She ignored him as the oaf towered over her, his face contorted in a vicious snarl. Whether Cristina was oblivious or didn't care, Charlotte couldn't handle seeing this woman in danger—especially for the second time in as many hours. Rushing forward, Charlotte went to grab Cristina, but before she had a chance strong fingers grasped her arm and yanked her away.

‘Hey!'

‘Stay out of this!' Mateo's strong tone convinced Charlotte to back off and she instantly felt foolish for going against his strict instructions.

Mateo spun away then lurched forward, placing his hands on Cristina's shoulders and bringing his lips close to her ear. Whatever he said convinced her that she should give up the rant and storm away. Cristina put some distance between her and this Jax person, but it didn't stop her from crossing her arms and offering him her best death stare.

Mateo addressed the man calmly but the other guy waved the papers again, shoving them under Mateo's nose.

‘You always get what you want! Now it's my turn!' yelled the Jax character who shoved Mateo in the chest. Mateo retaliated by doing the same and papers flew sky-high, landing on the ground nearby. Jax grabbed Mateo in a headlock and spun him around. Their yelling continued, their words indecipherable once more.

‘Stop it!' Charlotte shouted but they didn't pay attention.

Cristina rolled her eyes and mumbled, screwing up her nose in the direction of the men.

‘We have to stop them!'

The men wrestled and Mateo broke away. Jax ran after him and took a swing, his fist connecting with Mateo's nose and causing a sickening crunch to resound through the darkness. Mateo doubled over and covered his mouth and nose while Charlotte and Cristina raced over. Together, they grabbed his elbows and eased him onto the ground. Jax gathered up the papers that had been strewn across the grass and strode off, his deep throaty laugh reverberating around them. Jumping into the red BMW, he turned on the lights, revved the engine and drove directly at them. Cristina bolted through
the trees and towards the community while Charlotte hauled Mateo onto his feet and pulled him into the trees. The car halted at the edge of the forest, flashed the headlights a few times, then reversed, the wheels spinning and gouging the earth. Speeding off, the car bumped across the paddock, turned onto the asphalt road and zoomed towards Granada.

Taking off her jumper, Charlotte rolled it in a ball and held it against Mateo's nose.

Mateo said something but the fabric muffled his voice.

‘We need to get you to hospital.'

Taking the jumper away, he let out a small laugh and said, ‘I will be fine. Maybe this break will put my nose back in place, yes?'

‘Are you seriously making jokes?' Charlotte narrowed her eyes. ‘What is wrong with you lot? First Cristina gets in a fight at the bar then you have a punch-up with that brute.'

Mateo studied the blood on her jumper. ‘I am sorry, I will buy you a new top.'

‘Don't be ridiculous, it's only clothing.'

‘You are not like the other women.'

‘What? Because I don't care if a piece of clothing gets ruined?'

‘No, because you do not let people two times your size intimidate you. He could have hurt you, yes?'

‘Well, he hurt
you
instead, didn't he?' She wiped up more blood with the jumper. ‘Hang on … didn't you say your brother broke your nose a few weeks ago?' Sucking in the cool night air, she said, ‘Is Jax your brother?'

‘
Sí
.'

She took a moment to take in this information. ‘So why would … what was all the waving of papers about?'

‘He wants the family property back,' Leila said as she stepped out of the shadows. She bent down and shone a torch on Mateo's nose, taking great care with her examination. ‘It is not as bad as the last time.'

‘Does your family make a habit of punching each other up?'

‘My family is the clan of Giménez, not Jax and the people who gave me life.'

The bitterness in his words surprised her, as it was so out of character. Obviously the rift went way deeper than she had originally suspected. ‘What on earth did they do to you?'

‘What does it matter? The past is the past.'

Leila stepped back, no doubt sensing they were in some delicate territory.

Charlotte said in a quiet voice, ‘You told me you were an open book, Mateo.'

‘Please, let us just leave things as they are.' He used the tree to steady himself as he stood, but he faltered. Charlotte went to help but he waved her away.

Imagining the pain he must be in right now, she decided to leave it be—for the moment. ‘I won't question you any more on one condition …'

‘Will I like this condition?' He winked, then winced and held his hand protectively over his nose.

‘Seriously, you need to see a doctor.'

‘I will be okay. Do not worry. What is this condition of yours?'

‘Abuela's given me a letter she wants delivered. She wrote it decades ago but never had the nerve to return to Spain and deliver it in person.'

‘There is a thing called the postal service, yes?'

‘I don't think the postal service delivers to gravesites.'

Mateo raised his eyebrows. ‘This is a letter for a dead person?'

‘Yes. Someone she cared for very much.'

Mateo's face crumpled and she realised it had nothing to do with his suspected broken nose.

‘I'm so sorry,' she rested her hand on his shoulder. ‘I should have realised this might bring back memories.' Charlotte turned to Leila, whose eyes glistened in the faint moonlight. ‘And as much as I'd like your help, Leila, I won't ask. It's not fair on either of you so I'll figure it out myself.'

‘It is okay,' Leila said, wiping away a tear with her hand. ‘I would like to help my Aussie sister but first, I must make sure my
gitana
sister is all right. There is a chance Cristina is organising an army to attack Jax.'

‘She's quite the firecracker,' Charlotte said.

‘She is but she does not know how to play the game. That is my department.' Leila squeezed Charlotte's hand. ‘It is nice to see you. I am glad you have returned.'

‘I'm glad I have, too.'

Leila gave Mateo and Charlotte a kiss on their cheeks, then headed back to the community, her footfalls muffled by the carpet of leaves.

Charlotte and Mateo slowly walked back to the car. He had a slight limp but made a concerted effort to hide it. She wasn't fooled.

‘I'll drive,' she said.

‘You have done the driving in Spain?'

‘Uh … no, but I've driven on the other side of the road before. I'm not from the moon.'

Mateo passed her the keys and hobbled to the passenger side. After he got in with great difficulty, he said, ‘I trust you.'

‘I'm glad you do.' She sat and reached under the seat to find the handle to adjust it.

‘Do not bother, it is rusted into the place.'

Sticking the key in the ignition, Charlotte shuffled forward, not comfortable but a little more at ease than if Mateo was driving with his bung nose and eye. She drove at a snail's pace but still managed to find every pothole in the paddock.

‘Sorry!' Bump. Dip. ‘Sorry!' She gritted her teeth and clung to the wheel. Dip. Bump. ‘Sorry!'

‘It is okay, you did not put the holes in the ground, no?'

‘No, but—'

‘So do not worry.' He closed his eyes and she didn't know if it was because he had faith they'd get back to Granada in one piece or if the pain was too much. Turning onto the main road she picked up speed, gaining more confidence in her driving ability as she clocked up the miles.

Changing gears, she was thankful her father had taken the time to teach her how to drive a manual. Her father … she'd barely given him a thought over the past several days. In fact, she hadn't heard from him. No frantic messages or admonishing emails. Maybe she wasn't as essential at work like her father made her believe. Would the company really fall apart if she left and pursued her dream of becoming a professional artist? Images of the last painting she'd attempted flashed before her and she gripped the steering wheel, jolting the vehicle as she did so.

‘
¿Que?
' Mateo opened his eyes wide, woken from his slumber.

‘Sorry. Rabbit on the road.' The lie fell easily from her lips and she had no idea why she felt the need to cover up her thoughts. Maybe it was because Mateo had reneged on being an open book by not discussing the tense relationship with his brother. It hurt that he didn't want to talk,
especially as they'd grown so close, but maybe his open book contained a sealed section available to a select few and not some foreigner who swanned in and out of Granada on family missions.

Mateo closed his eyes again and rested his head against the seat while Charlotte concentrated on the road ahead. She wove through the streets, taking the same route that Mateo always did. They finally reached the car park near his apartment building and Charlotte navigated the vehicle into the only spot available—a very tight one.

‘Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead,' she said, her annoyance with him having dissipated. Mateo had his reasons for doing and not doing things, just like she did, and she had to trust he would share when he was ready. Looking over at him sleeping peacefully, she smiled, realising how much she had missed him. Sucking in her breath, she spoke a little louder. ‘Wake up. We need to get you checked out.'

Mateo's head lay heavily on the seat, his eyes firmly closed.

‘Mateo!' She shook his shoulders, her rising panic about to overflow.

He let out a large snore, then sputtered. ‘
¿Que?
'

‘You might have concussion. You need to see someone.'

‘No.'

‘But—'

‘It has been a long day, that is all. I do not have the concussion but I am happy for you to be my nurse.' His lips twitched into a lopsided smile.

‘Is this a ploy to get me to stay with you?'

‘I could just ask you to stay without getting my brother to punch me in the nose for your sympathy, yes?'

‘Good point.' She hoped the dark hid the hot blush that crept up her neck and across her face. She exited the car, locked the door and studied Mateo standing on the footpath, a slight sway to his stance. ‘Are you sure you're up for the walk? That's a steep hill. And I believe the medical centre is thataway.' She pointed to the short trek into the valley.

‘I am fine. All I have is a sore nose and eyes, not legs. Come.' He held her hand and they set off up the road, passing restaurants, houses and flamenco dance studios along the way. Glancing at her watch, she noted it was close to two a.m. No wonder the street remained quiet, yet in her mind she could hear flamenco music, clapping hands and stomping feet on hardwood floors.

‘I really missed Granada and being surrounded by flamenco music while
I was gone,' she said, needing to break the silence.

‘Ah, it has got under your skin already. Sometimes flamenco makes very fast work of converting the people.' They turned left and made their way up the cobblestoned street where Cristina had caused a fight. The bar had closed and the street was devoid of people, except for a few tourists straggling downhill. They entered the building. Mateo turned on the light and they slowly climbed the stairs to his apartment. He jiggled the keys in the lock, sputtered a few well-aimed curses at the offending lock, then it clicked open and he stepped into the foyer and flicked on the light.

Charlotte made her way to the refrigerator to grab ice and a nearby tea towel. While she busied herself, her stomach flipped as nerves settled in about being alone in the apartment with him. She'd been here before, so why did it feel different this time, surely it couldn't be jetlag? Gathering her wits, she gestured towards the couch and said to him, ‘Sit.'

‘
Sí, señorita
.' Mateo sat heavily then kicked off his shoes and lay back against the overstuffed cushions.

Wrapping the ice in the cloth and placing it gently on his eyes and nose, she said, ‘You really should get some medical help.'

‘You really should stop the worrying and fussing thing. Does it drive your
abuela
crazy?'

She smiled. ‘Maybe that's why she sent me back here.'

‘I would say yes, this is the main reason.' Mateo grinned, then adjusted the position of the ice pack, wincing as he hit a sore spot. ‘Perhaps she only gave you this letter so it would keep you busy and not worry about her.'

‘Maybe, although it won't work. I'm pretty good at this worrying business.' Charlotte cast her mind back to the ancient hurt that flashed in Abuela's eyes when she asked her to deliver the letter to the gravesite. ‘On second thoughts, I think this letter is way more important than her wanting me to stop worrying about her. I think she's got to that point in life where she realises she has only one chance at this gig and that she shouldn't squander opportunities to make things right. She doesn't want to dwell on past regrets.'

‘She is a smart lady.'

‘It's the
what-ifs
that mess everyone up, right?
What if
I find this gravesite for Abuela?
What if
it brings up so many painful memories and it
affects her delicate health and she dies?
What if
I convince someone in the Giménez clan to do a DNA test to prove one way or the other whether Abuela is Syeria's daughter?' That brainwave had occurred to her somewhere over the Indian Ocean.

‘What?' Mateo sat up so quickly he swayed for a moment then held his head gingerly. ‘This is why you have made the return to Granada?'

She drummed fingers on her thighs. ‘There're lots of reasons. Abuela wants me to deliver the letter to the gravesite of this person she cares for. Also, after showing her the photograph we found, she's convinced Syeria is her birth mother and …' Her words trailed off, too shy to speak of Abuela's wish for Charlotte to seize the opportunity with Mateo.