Secrets of Spain Trilogy

by Caroline Angus Baker

  Cayetano turned and looked through the crowds, to see Scarlett standing there with the camera out of the chest. What had she been taking photos of? Hopefully not the desperate look on his face.

  “Going to enlighten me on what happened during this meeting I’m not even allowed to sit in on?” Scarlett asked the pair when they approached them at their spot against the wall of one of tinglados, the work buildings along the water’s edge.

  “It’s still a big maybe,” Cayetano said to the women.

  “This is stupid,” Luna said. She sat on her chest, and tried to calm the fussing baby.

  “That saves asking her what she wants to do,” Alejandro scoffed.

  “We are better off leaving the country. After all, what do we all have to stay for?” Cayetano asked the group.

  They all looked at each other; he was right. They had nothing. Scarlett was a foreigner, Alejandro had lost his wife, and Luna had no family left with her father off to Madrid and her mother dead. The man she was in love with had betrayed her, so nothing was enough to keep her there.

  “You know I love you all...” Scarlett began.

  “You need to go home,” Cayetano said. “Please, don’t feel as if you have to stay.”

  “I want to stay,” Luna said.

  “Preciosa…” Cayetano replied.

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Luna, stop being so difficult,” Alejandro said.

  “I thought that Republican women were supposed to be treated equal to men,” she replied. “I thought the role of women was considered essential. So stop telling me what to do!”

  “Fine,” Alejandro sighed. “Tell us, where will you go? Will you go home to Cuenca? Alone, unable to find your way, let alone have an income to look after yourself? Cuenca will be full of Franco supporters, full of men ready to tear apart a girl like you, one cock at a time.”

  “Fuck, Ale, calm down,” Cayetano interrupted him.

  “I don’t know what I will do,” Luna said. “I can figure it out.”

  “You’re young and have never looked beyond being married, you can’t look after yourself.”

  “Ale,” Scarlett interrupted. “Don’t speak to her as if she’s a fool. I didn’t hear you complain while she played nurse to your mother, or cared for the household you live in. You were more than happy to accept her cooking, washing, housekeeping skills then. Don’t judge her now.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” Luna said.

  “You know what?” Scarlett fired back at her. “I’m leaving España, one way or another. As a foreigner, I’m in less danger than the rest of you. I will go home. My country’s government knows I’m here and expect my return. I have sponsors through the New Zealand Spanish Medical Aid Committee who will assist me in any way I need. I broke the non-intervention agreement my country has with other European nations, so my whereabouts are well-documented. I will go home, and you won’t see me again. I won’t get in the way of you and Cayetano, so don’t be so indignant. Life is short – way too short. If Cayetano wants to run away with you, then do it!”

  “Cayetano!”

  They all turned to the sound of the voice, to see Antonio through the crowd. The heavy-set man was sweating by the time he reached the despondent group. “You want on this ship?” he said, his voice lowered.

  “Yes,” Cayetano said.

  “Right now.”

  “Now?”

  “They have unloaded the aid off the ship. You will have to go in the hold of the ship, but you will all be able to fit. I don’t know where the ship is bound for, because the ship is unsure themselves. They’re waiting for clearance to leave without being stopped by the Mar Negro off the coast. But they won’t be stopping in España again. This is your chance. Now or never.”

  “Luna,” Cayetano said and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Don’t let the anger you have now endanger our lives. Please. Come with us.”

  Luna looked at her brother. “Only if I can take the baby.”

  “No, the baby needs to go with Scarlett,” Alejandro replied.

  “Well?” Antonio asked. “I just got a message.” The group huddled together. The people around them all wanted out of Valencia one way or another, and there was no reason to panic them. “They told me that Valencia has surrendered. Troops will be here tomorrow. There are no ships in Alicante. There are 20,000 Republicans trapped at the port there. Reports of people committing suicide, all sorts going on. For all we know, they will round us all up and shoot us. If you don’t get on this aid ship, you could die.”

  “Don’t you want on this ship?” Luna asked.

  “I can’t leave, I have five young children and a sick wife, I have to stay. When the church bells toll to announce Franco’s victory over España, I will be here to hear them.”

  “If things are getting out of hand in Alicante then things could go wrong here – and fast,” Cayetano said. “We have to leave this place.”

  “Come.” Antonio gestured towards his office. “All of you. Let’s see what we can do.”

  They pushed their way through the crowds and back to the broken and sorry building, which was surrounded by women who sat with their children. The faces told of their despondency. Of their fear. Of wondering what would be their fate. Cayetano stopped when he saw Luna lag behind them with the baby in her arms. He put the chest down and went back for her. “Luna, what is it?”

  “I don’t want to go,” she said in a quiet voice. “Why should we escape, but not these people?”

  “You think they would stop and think of you, given a change in fortune?”

  “No, no one seems to care about anyone. Why would God do this to us?”

  Alejandro stormed over to his sister. “God? What God? How can you persist in believing in a higher power when we live in the world that we do? There is no God, the lives we have are what we carve out for ourselves.”

  “So, what? We did this to ourselves?” Luna challenged him.

  “Now isn’t time for this,” Cayetano said.

  “We’re anarchists!” Alejandro cried. “We stand by our beliefs!”

  “Your beliefs!” Luna yelled her brother. “Who ever said they were my beliefs? No one ever asked me what I wanted!”

  Scarlett charged out of the office towards the group. “This isn’t the time for this,” she said. “Come on!”

  They filed into the building, where another tired-looking man stood. “This is Mark,” Scarlett said for him. “He doesn’t speak any español. He works on the Stanland.”

  “Hello,” Alejandro and Cayetano both replied. They had learned some inglés from Scarlett on those trips on the road with her. Luna, however, didn’t have a single word.

  “You have to appreciate my problem,” Mark said to Scarlett, aware that most in the office couldn’t understand him. “It was hard enough for us to get our ship here. We’re ready to leave, and we’re aware that there are a lot of people who want out of España. I can’t just fill the ship with people who have nowhere to go. I can take you, Scarlett, if you need to get to London, but I can’t fill our decks with refugees. We barely made it into Valencia. The British consul has been in mediation to get us out again. If we set sail with a boat full of refugees, the Mar Negro or the Mar Cantábrico off the coast will capture us, and then who knows what will happen. I wouldn’t put it past them to sink the whole ship and everyone on it. Let’s not forget what happened to the Ciudad de Barcelona.”

  “There was a New Zealander on that ship when the Italian submarine torpedoed it,” Scarlett said. “He drowned along with 60 other Republican soldiers.”

  “It would have been even worse if those Spanish fishing boats hadn’t sailed out to their rescue.”

  “The Republican planes trying to fire at the submarine were no help, they killed many innocent souls in the water. What a disaster. Mark, I’m not asking you to save the world, just these few,” Scarlett said. “It’s different for you and I, we can commission other governments to help us, but
what about ordinary Spaniards? They have nothing.”

  Mark looked at the group. “How can you stand here with a child and expect me to say no?” He sighed. “Yes, all right, as I told Antonio, I can get you on, but it won’t be a comfortable ride. You can’t bring anything with you. We have no room, not even beds for you.”

  “We don’t need anything,” Scarlett said. “We have provisions for the baby, and that is all we have to take.” She turned to Luna. “Sorry, we can’t take the Beltrán chest with us.”

  “If you’re coming, you need to come right now,” Mark said. “We are getting ready to dock out, and the moment we think we’re safe to set sail, we will. There will be no waiting.”

  “I would rather die like a dog in the street than run away,” Alejandro said.

  Scarlett spun around. “What? I’m standing right here, trying to help you!”

  “I don’t want help! If the rebel bastards want my country, they will have to shoot me.” He turned to Luna and took the baby off her, the first time he had held him. “Name him Paco,” he said. “It was what Sofía wanted to name him, after her father.” He kissed the child on the head. “You will do great things one day,” he whispered. “Remember me then.”

  “Ale, what are you doing?” Luna said as he handed the bundle back to her.

  “Now is the time I stay and fight.”

  “Don’t be a fool, it’s much too late for that,” Scarlett said.

  “I would rather be dead with Sofía than live the rest of my life without her,” he replied.

  “Ale!” Cayetano yelled after his friend who turned and darted out of the office.

  “I’ll go get him,” Scarlett sighed.

  “No, I’ll go,” Cayetano said. “You ladies need to get on the ship.”

  Mark looked to Scarlett, unsure what was going on. “Scarlett, we need to leave. I have things I need to do. Like I said, we are readying the ship for dock out.”

  “I thought all you wanted was to get the women on board and not yourselves anyway,” Antonio said to Cayetano.

  “You planned to abandon us on the ship?” Scarlett asked.

  “No!” Cayetano said. He looked at Luna, who had an equally unhappy face. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “After everything, you treat me as the weak one of the group,” Scarlett shot at him. “I don’t need to be rescued.”

  “You’re four months pregnant, you need to be helped, whether you like it or not. I’ll go after Alejandro. You both have to get on the ship. I will get Ale, and bring him back here. We will meet you on board.”

  “You… you’re coming… aren’t you?” Luna asked Cayetano.

  “Get on the ship, la chispa. Please. I love you. I want you to be safe.”

  “Come on, Luna,” Scarlett said. “If we don’t get on, they won’t hold a place for any of us,” Scarlett said. “Let’s take baby Paco, and get him fed and settled.”

  Cayetano placed one hand on Scarlett’s stomach for a moment, and held her gaze. They looked as frightened as each other. Without a word, she turned away from him, and he knew she never expected to see him again.

  He watched the women be taken from the building. Luna looked back at him, worried about what would happen next. He followed them from the building, guided by Mark in the direction of the ship nearby until they had disappeared from sight, Scarlett’s red hair no longer visible through the crowds. He turned with a heavy heart and went back into Antonio’s office, where the man stood with Luna’s chest of the Beltrán belongings.

  “You’re not going, are you?” Antonio asked him.

  “Not if I can’t find Alejandro. I can’t go without him.”

  “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

  “We’ve been on the losing side of this war for a while. We live in a world of locked minds, so it’s impossible to be safe.” Cayetano sighed. “What are the chances of getting a letter on board that ship?”

  “I could try. I have a guy who is working with the loading.”

  “Just in case… just in case I never see them again.”

  30

  Madrid, España ~ Noviembre de 2009

  Luna should have paid more attention to the ball going back and forth. Not that it went terribly far. The under-6s pelota teams weren’t exactly the pinnacle of the handball sport, but today, Giacomo and Enzo got to play the game at the trinquet de Pelayo, the main pelota court in Valencia. Normally they played the outdoor version the game, Llargues, but it was their ‘big match’ against another local school, slotted ahead of the adult game later in the afternoon. Most of the time the ball didn’t even make it over the net between the two pint-sized teams of five, but regularly bounced awkwardly amongst the parents that sat on the stairs that ran along one side of the concrete indoor court.

  She had wanted to sit with Alejandro all day and talk, but the school bell and subsequent pelota match had called Luna away. There was still more to learn from him. Cayetano Ortega’s body was still buried somewhere in the secrets of time and lies. She had to go back to Escondrijo, and soon, but the most pertinent fact was already known – she was not related Cayetano Beltrán. That not-so minor detail distracted her from her sons playing the proudly traditional local sport in front of her.

  It was one thing to go to Madrid and tell a man you haven’t seen in a while that you are in love with him. That you want to be with him, despite all your own hurdles and hang-ups. But if only it was that simple. The main fact was that Paco Beltrán was the son of Alejandro Beltrán and Sofía Perez, not Luna Beltrán and Cayetano Ortega. She was about to go there and have to tell Cayetano that his father didn’t know who his own parents were. Paco loved his mother so much, and she wasn’t his mother, but his aunt. She had lied to him his whole life. It didn’t matter how old someone grew, the desire to have their parents love them and be proud of them never went away. The life Paco had developed through his family wasn’t real. The man was already mad at Cayetano and Luna for pulling apart the dubious history he tried to hide, and this would only make things worse. So many questions still needed to be asked to Alejandro. Cayetano Ortega was still missing, but he didn’t get Luna Beltrán pregnant, and right now that was all that mattered.

  A night of tossing and turning in bed yielded no results. Luna could have called Cayetano, but there were no words for this. She had to see him. By the time dawn had broken, she was up and early to leave Valencia for the capital city, her victorious pelota players in tow. This needed to be a face-to-face meeting.

  It was considerably colder in Madrid than Valencia when they arrived. The kids talked continuously the entire trip and Luna was frazzled. Even the most loving mother can get sick of nonsense spoken by five-year-olds. She didn’t even bother to get their bag out of the car, they just went straight into the grand old building and up to the sixth floor. What if he wasn’t home? What if he didn’t want anything to do with her? Even if he didn’t, Cayetano needed to know that his real grandfather was still alive in the mountains outside Valencia.

  There was no time to think of something profound to say, no time to stand in the dimly lit hallway and procrastinate. No time to think of a way out of this if it all went wrong. Enzo pressed the doorbell about ten times and that could be enough to make any man turn away guests.

  The door swung open and there stood Cayetano, leaning on his cane. His eyes grew wide at the sight before him. Luna could see his eyes go between the two spirited redheads who jumped up and down and Luna’s stiff and nervous smile.

  “¿Te acuerdas de nosotros?” Giacomo asked.

  “Do I remember you? Of course! Hello, welcome back!” The boys were delighted by the broad smile that greeted them.

  “We haven’t seen you in ages,” Enzo moaned.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. Would you like to come inside and play? It’s cold out there.”

  Giacomo and Enzo darted in, and Luna cautiously moved in the doorway as well, next to the man she just wanted to grab onto and never let go. But with the kids ther
e, and neither of them were quite sure what to say.

  “We drove four hours to see you. We saw the wind farm,” Enzo said.

  “There was no wind,” his brother shot at him.

  “It was still there!”

  “I have your blocks here,” Cayetano said. “If you would like to play, the box is still in the living room.”

  The boys dashed off, more than happy to make themselves at home again. Cayetano and Luna stood eye to eye for a moment; the ice needed to be broken.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “What for?”

  “For turning up unannounced. For drunk dialling you a few weeks ago. For… saying no…”

  “Like you say, shit happens, who cares.”

  “Your leg isn’t better?”

  Cayetano dropped his cane; the wooden stick banged against the grey marble tiles. “I’m fine… no, I’m miserable. I don’t know what to say.”

  Luna cheeks had puffed out while she held her breath. “We’re not related after all,” she blurted out.

  “What?”

  “I know, it’s crazy but true.”

  “Good enough for me!”

  It was a relief more than anything when she could finally kiss him again. He held her so tight that her ribs hurt, but she didn’t care. You can’t just stop loving someone. It doesn’t just go away. All the thoughts of rushing to him in the hopes of a passionate, sensual reunion were nothing more than a fantasy. When she kissed him, it was significantly more than that. She loved him. It seemed impossible to love someone she hardly knew, but she did. The relief of being back with him was laced with an element of surprise of how much she felt for the man. The hot-blooded attraction that pulled them together was there, along with sensitive and compassionate craving to be part of each other’s lives, proven in a tender kiss.

  Cayetano held her tight against him, not sure of what to say. In her high heels, she was tall enough to rest her cheek against his, and she could feel the dampness of his tear run between their faces. “You leave me so undone, woman, I hope you know that,” he whispered.