Secrets of Spain Trilogy

by Caroline Angus Baker

  “I don’t know, Luna. Something in that grave has a secret to tell me. I can’t leave this place, not until we know who died here.”

  “You have changed your tune.” Luna paused as she watched a tear run down Miguel’s face. She didn’t believe in psychic abilities, but Miguel was in a lot of pain. “Maybe now you can understand how painful it was for me to find my grandfather hidden out here.”

  Miguel wiped his cheek and looked over at Luna. “It shouldn’t hurt this much.”

  “Life is full of painful little moments.”

  “Can I stay here, until you find out who died here?”

  “That could be a while, Miguel. What about Rebelión?”

  “Bullfighting is dying out, and Rebelión’s business is shaky. The Morales family can’t cope with the change. They don’t need me.”

  “Okay,” Luna shrugged. “You can stay here for now. But it won’t be a comfortable experience.”

  “The grave site already made that clear.”

  Luna reached out and touched his arm. His unusual level of despair felt disconcerting. “Are you sure you want to be out here?”

  Miguel looked down at Luna’s warm hand against his skin and looked up at her concerned expression. “Your presence is filled with comfort.”

  Luna half-smiled. “Well, I just…”

  Her self-effacing sentence ceased as Miguel thrust his lips against hers. The hulk of a man used all his strength as he beseeched his emotion on her, trapping Luna against him. She had no desire to return the action, and instead her face hurt as he pushed his kiss against her, with his arms hard against her back.

  At once, Miguel could feel her fight him. He let her go, and Luna held a hand to her sore mouth, and watched him back away. He knew he had fucked up, no need to say a word. Miguel turned and walked away from Luna and the masía, soon lost in the pine trees around the back of the house. Luna spun on the spot and headed in the direction of her car, ready to cry. One kind gesture to the upset man and he took it as far more. So much for psychic ability!

  The wheels of Luna’s little Peugeot crunched the limestone as she turned the car hard and headed for the main road back down the mountain. As if things weren’t complicated enough already.

  26

  Valencia, España ~ Mayo de 2010

  Cayetano glanced up from his newspaper when he heard Luna unlock the front door to her apartment. She appeared in the living room just as he tossed the paper on the coffee table with a slap. Luna smiled at him, but it was full of weakness. Tiredness.

  “I like finding you here in my house,” her soothing voice mumbled.

  “That’s good,” he replied as he stood up and towered over her. “I thought you were still mad from earlier in the week.”

  Luna shrugged, and Cayetano saw a tear in her eye. “I don’t care about that anymore.”

  “How was Escondrijo?”

  “Miguel is a prick.”

  “He is one of my best friends.”

  “And he came onto me today, at Escondrijo, where your grandfather José sent him, with the purpose of spying on me.”

  “What?” Cayetano shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “What part? Miguel kissed me! I’ve never had a guy do that to me before.”

  “What do you mean that he kissed you? What were you doing?”

  “Don’t you believe me? The man tried to shove his tongue in my mouth. It doesn’t matter what I did or didn’t do! I’m not to blame here!”

  Cayetano held his hands up in defeat. “Don’t panic. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “I went to Escondrijo, to take a look at the house, and Miguel was already there. We talked for a while, and he told me that José sent him to Valencia to see what I was doing out there, with the graves. Today was the day that Jorge from the historical memory association was due to arrive and survey the area.”

  “You never told me that. You can’t just…”

  “I can do whatever I like! Jorge came, surveyed the site and took a bone to be tested. It belonged to a slender woman, and she didn’t die all that long ago, Caya. Tell me that she deserves to be left out there, I dare you.”

  Cayetano paused and swallowed hard. They were just bones until now. Now, they had become people. “What did Jorge say?”

  “Jorge thinks the bodies could be civil war era. Miguel, who seemed to be against the whole idea, probably at José’s request, became emotional. Then, out of the blue, he just kissed me. Hard. He hurt me.”

  “Bloody Miguel,” Cayetano sighed and put his hands on his hips. “It’s not the first time he has acted like this. He tried it on with María, just before our wedding. He already told me he sensed that she and I were an awful combination. Didn’t stop Miguel from wanting in María’s pants, though.”

  “I’m sick of his stupid predictions. Miguel thought I ‘felt’ pregnant. Then, he forced himself on me, and couldn’t ‘feel’ that I have no interest in him!”

  “Miguel’s abilities, they are real.”

  “Anyone could see your marriage to María was a failure.”

  “Not just that, he is right about a lot of things.”

  “Well, the abilities had an off day!”

  Cayetano watched Luna poke her tongue out as if she wanted to gag. “Are you all right?”

  “A foul taste in my mouth. Metallic. Miguel trying to crush my face didn’t help.”

  “I will see what is going on with him. I will have to check up and see if he is okay.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Luna, it’s a kiss, it’s nothing. The real problem is that you have gone ahead to open the grave even though you know I’m against it.”

  “I don’t have to ask your permission.” Luna turned and sat down on the armchair across from Cayetano. He watched her close her eyes for a moment. She seemed more pale than usual. “Unless you can give me a very good reason why I shouldn’t open the grave, I’m going ahead, with or without your blessing.”

  Cayetano sat down and looked at his hands. They were dotted with scars and scrapes; some long earned in the ring, others fresh from recent kills. “Digging up bodies changes the way I see you, preciosa. It changes what I thought we could have together.”

  Luna opened her eyes, and her ice-blue stare shot straight at him. “Would you leave me over this?”

  Cayetano shrugged. “I thought things had changed. I thought I would find peace with you.”

  “You need to explain yourself better.”

  “My life is filled with death. You don’t understand that. Out of the deaths of our families, you and I could have a life together. Your boys, they are life, as would be future children between us. There is a future for you and me if we are together. My life is so lonely, always has been. You fill in the gaps of my life.”

  “How does this grave change that?”

  “I need an easy life. I always assumed I would die in a bullring and that would be grand and noble. It would be a tragedy that cements my place in the world as a God. Not a half-God, not someone who goes on to retire and become nothing. With you, everything seems quite different. Death has always been a triumph to me. Now, it’s not. You have changed my whole life, my whole plan. Now, if I die old and warm in my bed, I would be happy knowing I spent my days with you.”

  “Bullfighting does seem to be filled with loneliness and isolation.”

  “I love you enough that I lose my fear of death.”

  Luna smiled and shook her head. “How poetic. I’m sorry, but I don’t see the problem. What I’m doing at Escondrijo, with my land, my money, my life doesn’t have to change all these things.”

  “It creates tension within my family.”

  “I think we need to understand why José is so against the whole process. I don’t understand him at all. Is he just an old Falangist nutcase? I mean, what’s his problem with me? He sent a spy, someone you trust, to check up on me. When it all got too real, Miguel came onto me and why? Probably just to upset me. I can’t trust y
our family, so I have no interest in placating them.”

  “It’s about looking forward, instead of looking back. Yes, hurtful things have happened but now, we need to look forward! Life in 2010 Spain is tough enough, never mind the past.”

  Luna scoffed. “Look forward, like you all do? The bullfighting family, steeped in history and tradition, who try to maintain a life borne out of something that has already passed its heyday? You’re trying to maintain a business that was admirable in boom times, but now resists change and is collapsing before our eyes. You can’t be serious about me looking forward; you can’t do that.”

  “We have our problems, as do you, Luna. But we all have things to look forward to, as well. How can that include digging up dead bodies?”

  “What do you think will happen, Caya? We could dig up and identify these people. They can be buried with more dignity than a shallow grave that children stumble upon while playing. It’s serious, but it’s low-key. Where’s the harm in that?”

  “Where’s the point in that?”

  “The point? I want to be able to rescue Escondrijo, to live there, and be able to enjoy it. I don’t want to wake up and think of people dumped on the land. How can we be at Escondrijo and not do anything? I don’t want to end up like Alejandro, living out there, alone and miserable, haunted by secrets and murders.”

  “I don’t want to live at Escondrijo. Ever. I don’t want to live in Valencia. I want my life in Madrid. There, I said it. I don’t care what happened at Escondrijo because I don’t want the place.”

  Luna took a deep breath. “I don’t want to live in Madrid. Your apartment is lovely, as is the big family home in La Moraleja. But I have no desire to live there. Madrid is a capital city swollen with the profits of Spain. It’s full of self-indulgence and of a high and mighty attitude. Sure, it’s austere and proud, but it’s no Valencia. This city is the best part of Spain, and it’s brilliant that not everyone has worked that out. We get to enjoy it without maddening crowds, swarming tourists, or stuffy bureaucrats.”

  “I won’t ever be happy in Valencia.”

  “I won’t ever be happy in Madrid.”

  “Then what the hell are we going to do? Our wedding is in one month!”

  “Do you object to me digging because you don’t believe in it? Or because your family tell you it’s a bad idea? Or because you want me to be an obedient wife with nothing to do?”

  “All we have done since we met is bang our heads against problems, Luna!”

  “I know, and we don’t have to do that. I have given up my job and my fight to keep Fabrizio’s name out of the papers. I’ve opened my mind to having more kids and I’m putting up with this overpriced wedding. I will attend as many of your fights as I can, as well as your Fine Arts medal presentation. What are you bringing to the table?”

  “I didn’t realise we needed to keep score.”

  “I’m just trying to defend myself. I’ve had both Miguel and Darren annoy the fuck out of me today, and found a young woman’s finger in my country backyard. But everything passes, Caya. What we struggle with now won’t exist forever. But I’m sick of feeling like I’m not good enough for you. I am good enough. I won’t bow to being a member of the Morales family faithful.”

  “Do you want me to choose between you and my family?”

  “No. But by disapproving of every single thing I do, they are forcing you to choose.”

  “It’s San Isidro in Madrid in one week! It’s my premier event, and I’m being paid €400000. I don’t need stress. There are a lot of demands on me right now, Luna, which have nothing to do with the past.”

  “It’s all about a hungry crowd.”

  “The crowd demand better from me every time. I’m not sure I have any more to give.”

  “The crowd is the beast in the ring, not the bull.”

  “I fear the crowd more than the bull sometimes.”

  “It’s degrading for all of us.”

  “I don’t want to suffer the tragedy of failure. I need everyone in my life to be peaceful.”

  “I shouldn’t go to Madrid; that might help.”

  “That won’t help.”

  “I don’t know how to help. You toreros seem so insular.”

  “It makes the high suicide rates among toreros and their entourages so understandable… it’s the huge pressure to do something both revered and hated. I can’t cope with anything else right now, much less you digging up dead people.”

  “What do you want me to do, Caya?”

  “Give me a break for now. Please.”

  “I want a break from stress and I just want us to be on the same side of all the recent drama.”

  “I’m on your side, preciosa. What do you want me to do? Warn Miguel to stay away from you? I promise you that I will. No one touches my lady.”

  “I would much rather focus on all the good things we have going on, instead of worrying about mortal limitations, ours or anyone else’s. Would you like to come to collect the children, take a wander through the park in the city which will never make you happy?”

  Cayetano stood up from his seat as he chuckled. “Sure why not. I have to go back to the city which won’t make you happy tomorrow.”

  Luna got up from the armchair and Cayetano pulled her into his arms. The tenacious and strengthened kiss she gave him showed that recent events didn’t quash the fire inside her. The spine-tingling and provocative shot of desire Luna shot through his body hadn’t dulled either.

  “Please don’t hate me,” she muttered.

  “I don’t. I can’t. You drive me crazy, but I won’t hate you for it. I love whatever makes you hot for me.”

  “That hasn’t gone away. But all the recent dizziness is making me tired.”

  Cayetano looked Luna in the eyes, and she looked exhausted. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “Yeah, fine. Let’s go out tonight, once the kids are asleep. Lucía across the hall can babysit. One care-free Valencian night out before San Isidro in Madrid. Let’s see if I can change your mind about this splendid little city.”

  “No chance, but you can try.”

  ~~~

  Calle de Serranos seemed busy for just after midnight. Cayetano and Luna wandered with an arm around each other, stepping between people coming towards them on the narrow footpath. Cars zipped up and down the tiny one lane street beside them, filled with people enjoying Valencia on a warm evening. The four-storey buildings that lined the street were lit up, with people out on their balconies. As they wandered, Cayetano caught bits of information about a football match, which played from loud television screens up on the first floor above them. The old-fashioned streetlights against the old stone work buildings illuminated how dusty the footpath was, despite all the foot traffic. The city looked as if it needed a decent wash, or at least a drop of rain, but being May that seemed unlikely.

  “Hey,” Luna said from her spot tucked under his arm, “I have something to show you.”

  “This is the part where you lure me into a dark street in the El Carmen to take advantage of me, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, you would be easy to overpower, and it would have nothing to do with all the €2 mojitos you swallowed on Calle de Caballeros.”

  “Just be gentle.”

  Luna steered him across the street between the traffic and they ducked down Calle Vall de Crist, an alleyway of a street, past a bar filled with football viewers. They dodged large green rubbish bins against the walls and popped out in a triangular little plaza.

  “Plaça de L’Angel,” Luna said.

  Cayetano looked around; drab four level apartment blocks all faced the little space, filled with ill-placed parked cars. Across the street, one building stood alone with metal beams holding it upright. “La chispa, this is the least impressive thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “This, my snobbish Madrileño, is where I was standing when you proposed to me over the phone last October.”

  “After you punched that cyclist in the face?
I remember that part of the story.”

  “Yep, that night. I was standing here, alone and freezing.”

  “That makes my desperate attempt to try to pin you down even sadder.”

  Luna giggled as she steered him back up Calle Vall de Crist and back onto the main road again. “It puts things in perspective, though. We thought we were related then. We couldn’t be together. Now we have new things in our way, but all those things are fixable.”

  “I just get sick of having to put out fires all the time, you know?”

  Luna scoffed as they approached the Torres de Serranos, the 600-year-old former gate to the city. With the city walls demolished over 100 years earlier, traffic and crowds surrounded it instead. Lights lit up the back of the gate, its towering arches once filled in when prisoners were held there. They walked through the arch doorway of the gate and waited next to the dry deep moat-like expanse around the gate as they waited to cross the heaving busy street. “Are you telling me about putting out fires? Of course I know how that feels. But life doesn’t have to be complicated, Caya. I think we’re both are guilty of letting other people dictate our actions.”

  Cayetano nodded as they crossed the road with the other pedestrians, who filed across the bridge over the Turia park. They turned to head down the ramp and walk home through the park, but the path was blocked. A few dozen people had gathered there, with music playing. Couples were swing dancing, a seemingly impromptu gathering.

  “See, we need to be more like these people,” Luna mentioned as they approached the crowd. “More spontaneous and carefree.”

  “These young people have problems, no doubt,” Cayetano replied. “They’re probably broke and unemployed, and meet up to lighten up their lives.”

  “Two things,” Luna said as she unthreaded herself from his arm. “One – don’t talk about ‘young people’. We’re not old yet. I’m not old yet! Second – yes, no doubt everyone has problems, but you don’t need to be miserable all the time, carrying your drama around with you. Sometimes, you can relax.”

  “¡Ven a bailar con nosotros!” a young guy called to the pair.