by Jan Andersen
Then Rafael said, ‘And now you must meet my other cousin, Ana. She will be able to help you with all things in Barcelona that a woman wants to know. Ana is very dear to me, Jess. I hope you will find each other good friends.’
‘Of course we will,’ Jess said impulsively, taking the cool, rather limp hand outstretched to her. She found herself looking at a slender very beautiful girl with proud carriage and upswept hair, who had one of the loveliest skins Jess had ever seen. In any country in the world no one would mistake her for anything but Spanish. She was like all the portraits Jess had seen in the museums in Madrid.
In her best Spanish Jess went on, ‘Rafael has shown me all over your wonderful city today. I know I’m going to love every minute in Spain.’
In perfect English Ana returned, ‘We find that all people love Barcelona. It is only the Costa Brava we sometimes prefer to forget in summer when it is crowded with foreigners. If you have time I will gladly show you anything you wish to see, particularly as Rafael asks me.’ Her mouth was smiling enchantingly, but her eyes had the same coldness as Senora Gomez’ this morning.
‘You have known my cousin long?’ she went on.
‘A few months, but it seems a great deal longer, doesn’t it, Rafael?’ And when she turned to him for confirmation Jess made no attempt to hide the love in her eyes.
Rafael went to help Maria serve the drinks and just for a moment Jess found herself apart from the family. It was in that instant that she saw the look that passed between Senora Gomez and Ana. It was a special, knowing look that defied explanation. But it told Jess one important thing.
She had not one enemy in this family, but two.
CHAPTER III
Why, she kept asking herself throughout that interminable evening, why, why, why?
There could be nothing personal—at least not for the moment—because neither woman had met her before, or probably even heard much about her. That, perhaps, could be part of the reason. She, Jess, had been sprung on them. And of course she was foreign. The Spanish were such a proud, inbred race that they could not help but resent her.
But even that was too simple an answer. She was here as Rafael’s friend and for that reason alone Senora Gomez and Ana should accept her, just as Tomas did, and his parents. In fact the three of them went out of their way to be charming to her and were eager to hear all about her life in London.
One thing was certain, neither Ana, nor her aunt, were going to let Rafael have the slightest hint of their animosity towards Jess. They spoke politely, when necessary, to Jess, smiling at her with their lips, but shunning her with their eyes.
It was this conspiracy that appalled Jess, the hypocrisy of it all, and her evening, difficult enough anyway, was ruined. She smiled and she talked, but all the time she felt carved in marble.
She was aware suddenly that Tomas was talking to her, and tried to pull herself together.
‘... tells us that you are going to Monserrat tomorrow to work, but you will be in Barcelona at the weekends.’ She nodded. ‘I hope so, if all goes well.’
‘Then, if Rafael does not mind, and you will permit it, Senora Stevenson, I will visit you. I have to come to Monserrat at least two or three times in the coming weeks. I have been putting it off, but now I shall have an excellent excuse. Will you mind?’
‘No,’ answered Jess, with truth,’ I shall be delighted.’ Apart from being a cheerful, likeable young man, Tomas was obviously straightforward and could have no idea of the undercurrents in this room. It was even possible that she might be able, in some roundabout way, to reach the core of his sister’s antagonism.
She went on, ‘But may I ask what would bring you to Monserrat? I understood there was almost no one there at this time of year, and later on only pilgrims and ‘tourists.’
‘Well, yes, that is more or less true, except that the whole of Monserrat has a life of its own, which you’ll probably discover if you stay there for a month. But my reason for going is for a project connected with my studies at the university. The rock formation is quite extraordinary and the whole area is covered with minerals that are found nowhere else in Spain. I know the area quite well, so it will be my pleasure to show you some of the magnificent sights there. If you would like it, of course,’ he added anxiously.
‘Yes, I really should, Tomas. I just wondered where I should start as I don’t want to stick only to the well-known tourist spots in my travel feature.’
With only small, isolated islands of conversations like this, the evening somehow rumbled to a close well after midnight. Last night Jess had merely been a little travel-tired, but tonight she felt completely drained.
When the door had finally closed behind the visitors and Senora Gomez had gone to her rooms, Jess and Rafael were alone at last. They moved straight into one another’s arms.
‘You are tired, Jess, my little love. Was it an ordeal for you?’
‘A little, I suppose, because it’s so important for your family to like and approve of me.’
‘Well,’ with an arm round her shoulders he led her back to the sitting room, ‘there’s no doubt about that. I could see they all thought you were wonderful.’
How blind one can be in love, thought Jess sadly. ‘You’re exaggerating, darling, you Spanish are courteous people. I’m not completely sure about Ana...’ He stood back and stared at her in surprise. ‘Ana? But Ana more than anyone wants to make a friend of you. Ana and I have always been very close. I suppose you could say she regards me as an older brother and I certainly think of her as my dearest little sister. She told me she is so anxious to help you in every way while you are here. After all, I can only show you the best jewellers’ shops, she can show you the rest. No, you will love Ana as much as I do.’
‘Of course I will,’ she said simply. If Ana were as important to him as that then it must be up to her, Jess, to persuade Ana that her desire for friendship was genuine. ‘And I’ll be glad to have friends here. Your cousin Tomas has said when he comes to Monserrat for his studies he will show me some of the interesting parts.’
‘Then that is good too. Tomas has great enthusiasm. But beware he doesn’t bore you with his enthusiasm for rocks and stones!’
He held her away from him suddenly. ‘I love you, Jess, I’m not going to tell you that again until I know you are going to marry me. Don’t keep me waiting too long, will you? I can be a very impatient man.’
‘I won’t, I promise. I love you too, Rafael.’ She paused. ‘While I’m away from you during the week I want you to do something for me.’
‘Anything.’
‘I want you to tell your mother—and your cousins if they are close to you—about us. I don’t feel it’s fair to spring a surprise on your mother at her age. Whatever you may say, a mother has very definite ideas on what she wants for a son. The idea of you marrying an English girl might not be pleasing to your mother.’
‘But my mother likes you,’ he protested. ‘Soon she will adore you as I do.’
‘That’s not the same thing,’ Jess went on inexorably.
‘She may still feel strongly that she wants you to marry a Spanish girl. After all, your family is a rich and powerful one in Barcelona. She may feel she wants to keep the Spanish blood pure.’
‘Sometimes that Spanish blood needs a little renewing,’ he growled. ‘And I am marrying you, not my mother.’
‘I know,’ she said softly, ‘but remember what I have said, please, it may be more important than you think.’ That night Jess slept long and deeply, but her last waking thought was of Rafael. She was going to marry him, she knew that now with absolute certainty, but she was determined somehow to break down the opposition of his mother. She had one month to do that, just as she had one month to break down Richard Kendall.
Jess and Rafael left for Monserrat after lunch the following day. Surprisingly her farewell from Senora Gomez had been almost warm. Because I’m leaving, she thought unfairly, and then began to wonder if she had imagined the other woman�
��s attitude.
As they drove on to the main road that would take them away from the coast, Rafael made one final plea.
‘I still cannot persuade you to give up this foolish game and come back and have a month’s holiday in Barcelona?’
She shook her head. ‘No, Rafael, you can’t. I’m determined to finish this job, even if it’s going to be my last one, so please don’t try to talk me out of it either today or next weekend, or any other time until I’ve finished.’
‘All right, Jess, but I make my promise with bad grace. I am a man who likes to have his own way.’ She laughed. ‘Well, at least you’re honest about it. I shall try to remember to get my own way in a more subtle fashion!’
They had been driving for about twenty minutes, not talking too much because of the Sunday traffic on the road. ‘Football crowds,’ Rafael had told her, and blasted away with his horn. Over in the distance she could see a single mountain rising out of the flat earth round it, a mass of extraordinary-shaped peaks, hazy in the setting sun.
‘Rafael,’ she asked, ‘there is a strange mountain ahead that doesn’t look like an ordinary mountain.’
‘That is Monserrat, and you’ll soon learn that it isn’t an ordinary mountain. Its name comes from the serrated edge of a saw. From here the edges look sharp, but you’ll see as we get closer they become more rounded and yet more stark.’
‘Do you know it well?’ she asked curiously. Over the weekend they had hardly talked about the place where she was going, because it would bring to them the real reason for her being in Spain.
‘No, at least not like Tomas. Oh, I have been to the monastery several times, mostly to take visitors, but I don’t like walking, or climbing, and there is little else to do there except admire the view. I would prefer to spend my weekend on the coast at our house there. If the weather is fine, next Saturday, Jess, that is what we shall do. And you haven’t told me yet when I should come and collect you. On Friday evening?’
‘I don’t know, Rafael. Perhaps I can get a bus or a train.’
‘From here, Jess? Out of season?’
‘Then I’ll telephone you. I don’t know my plans, or anything. You must remember I’m here to work. The weekends are only a concession to me, so I have decided to take each day as it comes. Whatever you say, Rafael,’ she added severely, seeing his words of protest already spoken.
As they drew nearer to the great mass of mountain the mist cleared and its searing granite peaks seemed to have been hewn by hand. And then Rafael pointed. ‘Up there, you see, Jess, high up in that gap. That is where you are going. You can just see one of the buildings of the monastery...’
The position was breathtaking. She had no idea she was coming to a place like this when Oliver Preston had thrown out so carelessly, ‘... Oh, it’s some monastery on a mountain...’
Suddenly the project was beginning to generate excitement in her. She had always loved mountains, and this one well, she had never seen a mountain quite like this. If nothing else she was going to enjoy writing the travel article.
The side road Rafael took seemed to go downwards, winding round the olive-covered foothills until they came out in a deep valley. ‘That is the quick way up,’ Rafael told her, pointing to a cable car, ‘and probably the best place for me to pick you up normally, but today we shall take the long route, so that I can see you settled comfortably that Spain does justice to one of its visitors.’
So they started to climb, a gentle climb, up and up, right into the very heart of the mountain, until about half an hour later they swung suddenly into the village of Monserrat itself.
During the next half hour Jess found matters taken out of her hands. Rafael had seen her to her room in the hotel, taken an instant dislike to it and had her transferred to a larger one overlooking the square where she had plenty of room for a desk and her typewriter. Jess tried to protest and gave up. She could hardly explain that her expenses did not cover the best room in the hotel, when Rafael was obviously intending that she should have the best. Well, she would have to get accustomed to moments like these. She had told herself yesterday that she would never allow Rafael’s wealth to be a barrier to their love. Therefore she must learn to accept it gracefully.
They said goodbye in her room; she refused to walk down and see him off. Farewells, she insisted, were not to be prolonged. But when she leaned out of her window and saw his car disappearing down the mountain she had a moment of panic. She had never been so completely alone.
It was the ringing of a nearby bell that woke Jess the following morning and for a few moments she could not remember where she was. It was a gentle, melodious bell that seemed to sound especially clear in the sharp mountain air. When it had stopped she lay listening to the silence. I’m here, she thought suddenly, I’m really here, on my own, and I don’t know where to start. And for the umpteenth time she wished Oliver had sent a proper reporter to do his dirty work.
She sat over her breakfast and tried to sort her thoughts into some sort of order. In the square below the day had started in a leisurely fashion, but there were few people about except those obviously bent on some kind of business. From above the sun streamed down from a cloudless sky.
It was the sun that decided her. She would spend the day getting her bearings on the mountain itself, exploring, finding out what she could about the terrain. For the moment she would convince herself she was here to write a travel feature. Whatever else it did it would lull suspicion of her in the village. Apart from those actually working in the monastery there could not be too many inhabitants of Monserrat, and the last thing she wanted was to arouse suspicion about her real intentions. And that she would certainly do if she asked, however casually, if there were any Englishmen living up here.
She went to see the porter to arrange a packed lunch.
‘It can be done,’ he said, but eyed her doubtfully. ‘You are going walking on the mountain alone, senorita?’
She nodded. ‘Why, is it dangerous?’
‘No, not if you keep to the paths. But I suggest strongly that you do, for you will not meet many people at this time of the year. And may I suggest something else, senorita?’
‘Of course.’
‘You wear warm clothes. Our sun is warm down here where it is sheltered, but the wind can be very strong higher up there, and if the sun does go in it will seem like winter.’
‘Then I’ll be sure to follow your advice,’ Jess said promptly, ‘and perhaps I can ask you something else. Where would you suggest I walked, in order to see some of the best of the mountain?’
He looked dubious. ‘All the mountain is beautiful, and there are many walks, but ... yes, I think for the first day, this is what I would suggest. Just across the road here you will see a small rack railway. It goes directly up the next stage of the mountain. From there is a good track to San Jeronimo and it is very, very beautiful. You can either walk to the highest point or you can come down the more direct route by cable car. I think you will enjoy that, senorita, and it will not be a very strenuous day.’ He paused and said curiously, ‘I hope you do not mind my asking, but they are saying here that you are a famous travel writer and you are going to write all about Monserrat for England.’
Jess laughed. ‘I’m going to try and write about Monserrat, but I’m afraid I’m not famous.’
‘But many English people will come here.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Monserrat has a very great history. You can find a book all about it, written in English too. Everyone here can tell you a great many things, about the Dark Virgin, and the cures and the strange miracles that have happened.’
‘Then I’ll have a lot to learn.’ Jess thanked him and slipped away. She had the feeling that she might have had the history then and there, had she waited much longer.
She dressed in trousers and comfortable shoes, sweater and fight anorak. She had brought with her a small haversack in which she put her lunch, notebook and pencil and, as an afterthought, a paperback
to read. Whatever the porter said, the sun did look inviting and she was not intending to work all the time.
The rack railway took her straight up through the trees to a small cabin at the top which sold hot coffee and postcards. From there she saw the faded sign pointing to San Jeronimo, and so she started walking.
There was no other sound but the high singing of the wind, and as she stopped and looked about her from her place on the roof of the world she felt she must be completely alone here. Everywhere she looked were the incredible, rounded pinnacles of granite, keepers of the mountain, she saw them, watching over it. The shapes were many and strange and in some she felt she imagined a human carving, a face, a prehistoric animal, a reclining figure. The ground was rough under foot and the only green was scrub and olive trees.
Then she rounded a corner and stopped, awed by her position. She had already read that the mountain had been literally thrown up many thousands of years ago from the depths of a huge lake, caused, it was said, by a massive geological cataclysm, but from here it was as if she had come to the edge and could step off to the real earth thousands of feet below. The brown flatlands of northern Spain stretched as far as the eye could see; she had the same feeling as when she had been flying here only a few days ago.
I must get to the very top, she thought. Today, I want to see it all. She did not know it then, but the spell of Monserrat was beginning to fall on her.
By the time she reached her first goal she was hungry and exhilarated, and shading her eyes against the sun, saw that the next peak must be the high one the porter talked about. But before she tackled that, she decided, she would find a sunny, sheltered place, have her lunch and make some notes, while all these impressions were still alive in her mind.
