‘Hey, hey,’ shouted Carlos as she walked through the square. ‘Come back. Sit. Relax.’ Alice glanced back as he pointed dramatically at a chair. ‘Here,’ he said.
She sat, obediently.
‘Alice. It is Alice, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘You are in Portugal. It’s important to take time to sit, drink coffee and watch the world. Even if you have other important things to do.’
‘Okay. I haven’t got other important things to do, though,’ she said. Apart from looking for a proper job at home, she thought. Alice sighed wearily inside, annoyed with herself.
‘What would you like?’
‘Um galao e um pastel de nata.’
Carlos beamed. ‘Ah, Portuguese. Very good, very good.’
‘That’s all I can say,’ said Alice. ‘Plus Bom Dia, Boa Tarde, Boa Noite, adeius and ola!’
‘Excellent!’
‘Pudim flan.’
‘You would like a pudim flan too?
‘No. I can say pudim flan. I don’t want one.’
‘Just as well because we do not have any. But it will be useful to know if you want one from somewhere else.’
‘Hopefully.’
‘Okay, I will return with your order,’ he said, turning to go. He paused. ‘You should come here more often. Always welcome.’
Alice smiled, surprised. ‘Oh, thank you,’ she said.
Carlos beamed again.
Spreading out her new paints in a line on the table, she sat back and examined the tangled braids of bougainvillea clinging to the yellow wall opposite. Taking a photo, she picked out the paint colours she wanted to use and took a photo of them too. Scooping them back into the bag, she smiled, thinking about the painting to come when she got back to the apartment.
‘Hello, Alice. Bom Dia.’ Ignacio had sat down at the table next to her.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said, surprised. ‘How are you? Sorry, I was caught up in what I was doing and didn’t notice you were there.’
‘I saw,’ he said, nodding towards the bag of paints. ‘What were you doing?’
‘I was planning a painting with my new paints. That’s what I was doing …’ She trailed off. ‘Do you have a day off?’ she asked, changing the subject.
‘Yes, I have taken my mother to her sister’s and I’m now waiting to collect my car from the garage. It needed a little work done on it.’
Carlos returned with her order.
‘Ola! Carlos! Did I tell you he is my brother?’
‘Yes, you did. Small world,’ said Alice, searching their faces for similarities. She couldn’t find any.
‘Diga, diga,’ said Carlos.
‘That means speak,’ said Ignacio. ‘Uma bica … that means one—’
‘—black coffee,’ interrupted Alice, excitedly. ‘Ta da!’
‘Okay. I will bring it Ignacio,’ said Carlos, gently touching Alice’s shoulder as he left.
‘You are friends?’ asked Ignacio, eyebrows raised.
‘No, no. I’ve just had coffee here a couple of times, that’s all. He’s very friendly.’
Ignacio leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘Alice, I believe I have mentioned this to you before, but be careful. He has a reputation. He is very fond of far too many women.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Alice, a little embarrassed. ‘I just drink coffee here, that’s all. Anyway, it’s a lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘Paradise,’ said Ignacio leaning back in his chair.
Carlos returned with his coffee and stood behind Alice. ‘She is looking very well. Being here suits her I think.’
‘Yes, yes, she does,’ said Ignacio. He looked behind her. ‘Does anyone know that dog? The one sitting next to you Alice? It looks familiar.’
She looked down. Elvis was staring attentively up at her.
‘I didn’t know he was there,’ she said.
‘He just arrived,’ said Carlos.
‘Well, I do know him. His owner, rather. A bit ...’ She trailed off again.
‘There you are, mate,’ said Luis, seeming to appear out of nowhere. He pulled up a chair. ‘You shouldn’t run off like that. Although when you guide me to Alice it’s allowed.’
Alice’s heart fluttered and she involuntarily crossed her arms, as if that would stop it. ‘I didn’t see you,’ she said.
‘He just arrived,’ said Carlos. ‘Ola Luis.’
‘Ola. Uma bica,’ said Luis. Carlos scratched his beard and nodded, unsmiling, before going to get the order.
‘So,’ said Luis, looking at Alice’s carrier bags, ‘I see you have been to my favourite shop.’
‘Yes I have. It’s wonderful. I was there for ages and I bought far too much.’
‘Ah, Alice in Wonderland.’ He smiled.
Ignacio tapped her on the shoulder. ‘I will give you a lift back to your apartment. I am collecting my car from the garage around the corner there.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ said Alice, a little surprised. ‘That’s very kind.’
‘I’m going to take Alice to Sintra,’ said Luis. ‘Great photographic opportunities there.’
‘Okay, that sounds good, great, I mean,’ said Alice. An unbidden girlish giggle spilled out of her, which she tried to disguise as a cough.
‘How is the band business by the way?’ asked Ignacio.
‘Busy, busy, busy. But it’s Antonio’s band. I’m leaving in a couple of months.’
‘Getting a bit old for all that after all,’ said Carlos, rejoining the conversation as he returned with Luis’s coffee.
Alice picked up a strange tension in the air.
‘Doing a lot of property renovations,’ said Luis. ‘Plus the painting and the photography. It’s a lot at the moment.’
Alice took a bite out of her cake.
‘I love pasteis de natas.’ Luis was looking over at her. ‘The best thing about living in Portugal.’
‘They are delicious,’ said Alice, mouth still full.
Luis’s phone rang. He sighed. ‘Here we go,’ he said, as he answered it. ‘Antonio. Why do you need me there earlier? To meet who? Why do I need to do that – can’t I just come later for the sound check?’
Ignacio shook his head at Alice. ‘Antonio,’ he whispered loudly. ‘He’s no good.’
Luis rang off and smiled. ‘He’s right you know. He’s not the best person to be around at the moment.’ He took a sip of the coffee and stood up as Elvis darted to the other side of the square. ‘Oh, no, he’s got the hots for that Great Dane again,’ he said. Swigging the rest of the coffee he threw some change on the table. ‘Gotta go. He’s not coming back. Ciao, belo.’ He blew a kiss at Alice as he ran off.
‘So you know him?’ asked Carlos.
‘Yes I do. A bit,’ she said.
He bent down and whispered in her ear. ‘Be careful. He has a reputation.’
Ignacio leaned forward. ‘My brother is right. Be careful.’
Alice’s phone beeped.
Got a day off music and painting tomorrow. Fancy Sintra? Will pick you up at the hotel at eleven. L.
Alice glowed inside. Everyone seemed to have a reputation round here, she thought. And it didn’t matter anyway because she’d be going home in a few weeks.
I don’t know whether to go to Sintra with Luis or not.
Alice’s breathy excitement of the previous day had been replaced with her default anxious setting overnight.
Why on earth not?
Kathy texted back.
I’m only here for a few weeks. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to get involved.
Alice! He’s taking you out to take some photos! Why don’t you just enjoy it? Going out for the afternoon is hardly getting involved. And anyway, what if you do? – you deserve to have some fun.
I don’t know how to have fun anymore. I should be sorting stuff out, looking for work.
Alice! For goodness sake! Lighten up. Got to go, someone’s come in. xx
Alice put the phone down and walked i
nto the living room from the balcony. She was also dealing with a problem she had never had to deal with in London. ‘I think geckos are cute, but I don’t want to live with any,’ she had muttered, nose wrinkled, picking up the tiny dead lizard left lovingly next to the kettle by Aphrodite that morning. Then she had spent half an hour hunting the live one that was scuttling around the apartment. She returned to her search as the cat sat elegantly on the sofa watching Alice crashing and banging around in pursuit of her prey.
‘How the hell did you get them in?’ she shouted whilst peering under the bed. ‘Why did you only kill one of them? Why aren’t you helping me?’
When she finally saw its tail disappear into a cupboard, she gave in and summoned the porter who arrived with a large glass bowl and a piece of card.
‘She is a very clever cat.’ He laughed. ‘She hid them, I think.’
‘You mean they’ve been here for a while?’
‘Oh yes,’ he said, walking into the bedroom and looking under the wardrobe.
‘So they’ve been living with me and I didn’t know?’
‘Yes.’
‘I feel a bit sick,’ she said, sinking down next to Aphrodite on the sofa, wondering if there were any other small reptiles in residence. In London she’d had a few ants.
‘I will close the door now,’ the porter said, slamming it shut.
‘I’m supposed to be getting ready to meet a very gorgeous man, not dealing with your dark secrets,’ said Alice, jabbing her finger at the cat, who was now lying down and stretching, languorously. ‘It’s very irresponsible of you Aphrodite,’ she said. ‘I haven’t been on a date for years. I mean I’m not even sure I should be going. But I’m going. Despite you, cat.’
A few minutes later the porter walked carefully into the living room, holding the covered bowl with a tiny gecko pressed inside.
‘That was very quick,’ said Alice. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Please don’t hesitate to call me next time,’ he said.
‘Next time,’ she sighed to herself. ‘Next time ...’
Then she hurriedly changed into a sundress, put on some flip-flops, grabbed her camera and ran to the hotel, red faced and hair flying untidily in the breeze.
Luis was facing the sea when she arrived, taking photographs of the waves crashing against the rocks, oblivious to the clusters of people noisily bustling past him. Pausing for a moment she watched him intent on his task. Something in the way he leaned forward, lost in the moment, flicked a switch inside her, just the same as when he was playing the guitar at Mary’s party, like he was in a world of his own. She felt still and calm. And it confused her. She walked towards him. ‘Hello,’ she said.
He looked up, smiling broadly. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said. ‘Have you run here?’
‘Oh dear, is it that obvious?’ she asked. ‘I was late. Gecko issues at home. I’ve never had to deal with gecko issues before. Is my face very red then?’
‘Red? No, it’s glowing.’
Alice laughed. ‘Glowing? I like your style.’
Luis put his arm on her shoulder and guided her towards his car. ‘Sintra, madam?
‘Yes please.’
‘Here,’ he said, walking down a narrow track through a wall of bushes and trees. ‘The gardens here are beautiful. And on a day like today with the sky this blue, the contrast of the flowers and trees is striking, don’t you think? Hopefully we will get some good pictures. One of the guys who sells my photographs says people are talking about the place. So here we are.’
‘It feels like a secret,’ she said.
Luis turned towards her and held her gaze for a moment. ‘I suppose it is.’
As he walked towards a clearing her stomach did the loop the loop again, and she patted it as if it was indigestion.
‘Look at this!’ said Luis gently, beckoning her over. A carpet of orange, pink, white and yellow wildflowers lit by the midday sun rolled into the distance, scattering colours into the gaps between the trees. ‘Late spring, early summer, there are flowers everywhere,’ he said. ‘On all the road verges, between the rocks ...’
‘It’s beautiful,’ said Alice softly.
‘Take it all in,’ said Luis. ‘So that when it’s dark and cold you can call it back into your mind.’
They stood for a few moments without speaking, as Alice listened to the silence punctuated by lilting birdsong. ‘I want to run barefoot through the flowers like when I was a little girl,’ said Alice eventually.
‘Elvis is obviously in agreement about this view,’ said Luis. ‘Look, he’s just sitting and watching. Not like him at all.’
‘He’s obviously a dog who appreciates art and nature,’ she said.
‘Or maybe he’s waiting for a bird or rabbit to arrive so he can chase them and frighten the life out of them.’
Alice laughed. ‘Yes, probably, but I prefer my idea.’
‘I prefer it too. That’s a nice world you live in!’
‘It’s how you see it.’ She smiled, enjoying his eyes glinting mischievously back at her.
‘Shall we take some photographs, madam?’ asked Luis, taking out his camera.
‘Of course, that’s what we’re here for,’ said Alice, torn between staring at Luis, and taking photos of the gardens.
They disappeared into their own worlds, and Alice moved through the grass, taking photographs of flowers and petals and the dappled patterns of sunlight through the trees, framing vistas and gaging colours and tones. Time stood still for a while. Only as the light changed with the slow movement of the sun did they begin to wake slowly up to the real world again.
‘I fear Alice,’ said Luis formally, touching her arm, ‘that although it is only half past two, the inexorable rotation of the earth has beaten us and taken our light. And, of course, the trees make it very shady.’
‘Shame,’ said Alice, ‘but I’m really, really hungry, actually, so thank goodness.’
‘You’re no artist, madam. Hunger would not beat a proper artist.’
‘So, you’re not hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘Well then.’
‘Well then.’ He smiled. Placing his rucksack on the grass he slowly and ostentatiously unclipped it, producing a loaf of bread, a tub of olives, some slices of meat and some water. Fishing further into the bag he pulled out a large tartan blanket and placed it with a flourish on the ground. ‘Alice, please sit.’
‘That’s Mary Poppins’ handbag disguised as a common black rucksack isn’t it?’ Alice joked.
‘Shhhhh nobody knows who I really am. Now spit spot, eat up … and please keep it to yourself.’
‘Alright Mary,’ whispered Alice giggling. She felt herself giving into something, but she couldn’t properly work out what it was. It was a kind of reminder of something past, something lost. Something she’d forgotten how to feel. They sat and ate, surrounded by hazy colours and vibrant butterflies, the air laced with pine scent and wild rosemary. As the sun wrapped them in a warm glow for the first time in a long time Alice did not think of the past or the future. All that was real to her was Luis and this beautiful garden.
‘Time to go,’ he said eventually. ‘The world awaits.’
‘No,’ she wanted to say. ‘I’m not ready, yet. Stay, let’s stay here forever so I don’t have to back to real life.’ But she just smiled at him. He stood and held his hand out to help her up, their eyes locking for a moment. Deliciously soft brown eyes you have, Mr Simal, she thought, as he began to pack up the picnic.
‘I have another gig with the band later.’ He sighed. ‘Last minute. Antonio twisted my arm. Again.’
‘It’s a pity you don’t enjoy it any more,’ said Alice, rolling up the blanket. ‘You’re so good. When I saw you play at Mary’s party, you seemed to be completely involved in it.’
He looked up again, surprised. ‘I did? Well I do love it.’ He put his rucksack on his back. ‘I’ll let you into a secret – sometimes I play guitar with a local band that
play Latin music. Nothing serious – just occasionally on a Sunday we’ll perform at a bar or a restaurant. It’s just for fun. That’s what I miss about Antonio’s band – the fun went years ago.’
‘What does Antonio think of it?’ asked Alice, putting on her shoes.
‘Oh, he doesn’t know. He suspects of course. I think he feels I’m cheating on him.’ He laughed and turned towards the path. ‘Your chariot awaits, this way.’
The following day Alice awoke with a sense of purpose and excitement. The time she had spent with Luis had reminded her that men other than Adam did actually exist, and that inspiration was everywhere to feed her imagination. Also, she had an appointment with Kathy. She ran down the steps of the hotel towards the ballroom where the belly dancing class was being held – Kathy had told her it was either that or Limbo dancing, as whilst she was in Cascais she should try to assimilate. Alice had argued that she didn’t see how either dance would help her assimilate as neither of them were Portuguese. Kathy had told her that she had to come anyway. As she rushed around the corner to find her friend, she bumped into Stephano hurrying the other way.
‘Alice!’ he said, looking surprised. ‘You’re looking well. Are you here for the belly dancing?’
‘Yes I am,’ said Alice breathlessly. ‘And I’m late. Have you seen Kathy?’
‘No. Why would I have seen Kathy?’ He seemed distracted, looking over her head. ‘I have to go, now. Lovely to see you.’ He kissed her on both cheeks and hurried off.
‘Oh, okay, bye,’ said Alice, running towards the ballroom.
Kathy was standing at the back waving at her.
‘I’m nearly late,’ said Alice, trying to calm her breathing down.
‘At least you’re here. So?’
‘So what? I just saw Stephano.’
‘Oh, yes, he was just here for something.’
The House That Alice Built Page 7
