by Nesta Tuomey
Feeling thirsty again, Claire went to the fridge. These days she made a point of boiling water first thing in the morning to cool in the fridge. Limonada left her feeling bloated and faintly sick. But that morning in the rush she had forgotten. She would have to make do after all with the fizzy drink.
Claire grimaced as she sipped the sweetish liquid. How nice, she thought rather wistfully, to have been able to take Ignacio up on his offer and stay at the hotel, already she was finding it quiet at the apartment with Ruthie gone and Teresa no longer bustling about. Right now, she told herself, Ruthie was probably splashing about in the pool, having a great time and undoubtedly cooler than she was. Nevertheless, Claire was conscious that she had neglected her on this holiday, but once Elena had become dependent on her visits, she had felt obliged not to disappoint the sick woman. At any minute now Claire expected Fernando to collect her so that she might make her daily visit to his mother.
She went out to sit on the balcony and work out what she would say to Jane when she rang her. Now was a good time to get her while she was still at the clinic. Claire only hoped that Jane would approve their decision to keep Ruthie with them. When she heard how terribly upset Ruthie had become at the thought of leaving Spain, she would surely understand.
As Claire sat there, putting off the moment she suddenly realised that Fernando was late. She was just beginning to wonder if he was coming at all when there was a prolonged ring at the door. She jumped to her feet and ran back through the apartment. As she released the door catch she felt suddenly dizzy and leaned against the wall until her head cleared. Fernando stood outside, looking hot and dishevelled himself, and he stepped quickly inside with none of his usual polite greetings.
‘Ah Claire... mi madre... my mother... is very ill,’ he stammered. ‘She has been taken to the hospital.’
Claire felt the shock of his news. Although Elena’s condition was clearly worsening, there had been no indication that she was so dangerously ill. Listening to Fernando she realised that there was no hope of recovery and that her death was only a matter of days, if not hours, away.
‘Oh Fernan! I’m so sorry,’ Claire cried, unconsciously using his mother’s name for him. Fernando winced, then reached wordlessly for her. He held her close to him, his cheek pressed against her hair. Claire stood startled and unmoving in his embrace. After a moment she felt the tension go out of him and he said tiredly, ‘Will you come with me to the hospital, please?’
‘Of course.’ Shyly, she squeezed his arm and stepped back. Fernando stared solemnly at her and, on a long drawn-out breath, repeated shakily, ‘Claire... Claire. Mi preciosa. What in the world would I do without you!’
Elena was conscious but very weak. She held Fernando’s hand but kept her eyes fixed on Claire. A nurse sat in a corner of the room and whispered to them not to stay long.
Unable to reach his father, Fernando left a message for Antonio to ring home. Federico had come at once from the restaurant and sat outside his mother’s room, awaiting his turn. Too many visitors would tax her waning strength and they were terrified she might not live until Antonio arrived.
Fernando gently released his mother’s hand and got up from the bedside. He had still to make contact with his youngest brother.
‘I’ll send Federico in,’ he whispered to Claire. ‘Please stay while I go and ring Alejandro.’
Claire heard him and yet didn’t hear him. She was watching Elena’s face intently, conscious of the pulse beating feebly in her temple and superstitiously afraid to look away in case it stopped.
Fernando rang the military academy and was put through at once to his brother’s commanding officer. When he replaced the receiver, he wore a stunned expression. Alejandro had been away without leave these past three weeks and was facing a court-martial when he returned. Now Fernando cursed his stupidity in not following his instincts and insisting that Alejandro come home at once, when he met him near thevapartments..
Fernando’s features set in even grimmer lines as he went to join the silent figures grouped about his mother’s bed. His father would have to be informed of the situation, he told himself, and his wayward brother would have to be found. This was not the first time that Alejandro had been AWOL and he was on his last chance. So his commanding officer had crisply pointed out. Fernando sighed, this time Alejandro would almost certainly be expelled from the academy.
All that evening Claire and Fernando sat at Elena’s bedside. Federico had departed earlier with a promise to return when the restaurant had closed for the night. Elena was on a drip and lay with her eyes closed, pale and unmoving. When it grew late Fernando drove Claire back to the apartment. She wanted to stay with him at the hospital but he would not allow her.
‘You must get some rest,’ he said, looking pale and weary himself. ‘I will come for you in the morning.’ And with that she had to be content.
Next day Fernando picked Claire up early, Elena had passed a fairly good night and, thankfully, seemed to have grown a little stronger.
Claire sat with her, feeling a bit sleepy after the late night and early rising. She had managed to speak to Jane before Fernando arrived. When Sheena had not come back to the apartment the previous night and was still not home by the time Claire got up, she had considered it was high time someone told Jane that Teresa was gone. Although news normally travelled fast in the neighbourhood, she had not heard that Babs had given birth. She had been working late at the clinic, she said, which probably accounted for it.
‘You say she had twins?’ Jane sounded surprised. It was a bad line and Claire found herself having to say everything twice. She gave Jane as many details as she could remember.
‘But how are you managing on your own. What about Ruthie?’
Claire reassured her that Ignacio and his wife were taking great care of the little girl. She held back the bit about Elena being so ill. She was worried that Jane might not approve if she knew that she was not spending much time with Ruthie. It would only worry her unnecessarily, Claire eased her conscience.
‘Get Sheena to ring me. I’ll need to talk to Ruthie often. She may get homesick away from the pair of you.’
Claire said that she would tell Sheena while, at the same time, mentally resolving to leave her a note in case they missed each other again.
‘Mind yourselves and be sure and keep in touch,’ Jane had rung off.
During the morning Claire had used the hospital telephone and finally spoken to Sheena, who was grumpy at being woken from sleeping off her late night. Sheena promised, however, to ring her mother and Claire put down the receiver satisfied.
By midday Elena had rallied enough to ask for Antonio.
‘He will be here soon, Mother,’ Fernando assured her with a helpless look at Claire, who returned his look sympathetically. Despite repeated telephone calls to the site office in Almeria, there had been no word as yet from Antonio.
‘He must have gone to one of the other sites,’ Fernando fretted in an undertone. ‘I cannot understand why he has not telephoned the office. He is usually so punctilious.’ He went to the window and stood there, staring out. Claire noticed the way Elena’s anguished brown eyes followed his every movement and wished with all her heart there was some way she could find and bring Antonio to her.
Just before midday a nurse came in to tell them that Señor Gonzalez had telephoned to say that he was on his way. Fernando’s face brightened and he looked as if a great load had been lifted from him.
Claire was conscious of the immense strain he had been under, trying to cope on his own and unable to trace his brother. She thought of Sheena’s recent admission that she was deeply in love with Alejandro and wondered if there could possibly be any connection between the two Alejandros. Claire could not quite say why, but she was beginning to be convinced there was.
Antonio arrived within the hour and took his son’s place at Elena’s side. Fernando waited just long enough to greet his father then left for his office, hoping to get in an h
our’s work before coming again to the hospital. When the door closed behind him Claire stood up.
‘I’ll come back later,’ she whispered.
Antonio nodded blindly and she left him holding Elena’s limp hand between his two strong ones, his unruly dark head, shot with grey, bent close to his wife’s pillow as he listened anxiously to her frail breathing. Thank God he had arrived in time, Claire thought, as she slipped away.
Sheena turned into the familiar alleyway that led to Alejandro’s apartment and entered the building. The memory of what had happened there, her utter abandon filled her with hot shame and a tingling of excitement. She had not seen the face of the man, which had somehow made it even more decadent. She would not recognise him again but he would know her.
She was standing under the cool spray, lathering her hair, when she heard Alejandro’s two short rings followed by one long. She grinned in relief and reached for the towel to pat her eyes, before running to let him in. The key scraped the lock and the door swung open.
‘Alex,’ she cried, then stopped in confusion when she saw who it was.
Miguel stepped smiling inside the door and closed it after him. Sheena blushed in dismay, then backed away, conscious of his eyes boldly taking in her nudity.
‘Where is Alejandro?’ she gasped, grabbing backwards for a towel and draping it against herself. She felt mortified, yet strangely exhilarated.
‘He asked me to say he would be late.’
Sheena stood, water dripping down her neck, her hair a mass of cooling suds. Something in Miguel’s eyes, some arrogant awareness, told her that this was the man. She trembled, and almost of their own volition her fingers released their grip on the towel and let it fall. She stood naked and helpless before him.
‘You do not want Alejandro,’ he murmured, stepping nearer. ‘You want me... is that not so?’
Elena hung on to life with a tenacity that pained but did not surprise those who loved her. She had always had a great zest for life and she was loth now to release her hold upon it. She was moved to Hospital Belen, the exclusive nursing home where Antonio had arranged for Jane to spend her convalescence. There she would get the expert nursing care needed to make her comfortable until the end came. Sarah Lewis was engaged to be with her and Elena could not have had anyone kindlier or better qualified to care for her in her last days.
Claire came often to sit by Elena’s bedside. Once Nurse Lewis realised that Claire was the great friend of Dr McArdle’s family, she couldn’t do enough for her.
She brought her tea throughout the day and persuaded her to take breaks from the sick room to walk in the garden. Although Fernando and his father took it in turns to come to the hospital during the day whenever they could be spared from the office, their visits were understandably short and only for the nurse Claire would have found the day long and lonely. In Sarah she felt she had found a true friend.
Eventually the sick woman was unable to speak or move any part of herself except her eyes, and was being fed intravenously. Claire thought hard and long to devise some means of communicating with her. Eventually she came up with the idea of using a child’s alphabet. When she explained her plan to Fernando he immediately went out and purchased the abecedario.
Claire held Elena’s hand and quietly explained to her that she was going to ask her questions and wanted Elena to try and answer them with the help of the plastic alphabet
She would hold up letters in front Elena’s eyes, and Elena was to blink when Claire reached each letter of the word she wanted to say.
Claire demonstrated this and then asked Elena to blink to show that she understood. Although painfully slow to begin with, it was to prove a good method of communication between them. At first, Elena was only able for very short sessions but as they grew more accustomed to their ‘game’ Claire found a way of speeding the process by asking first if the word began with a vowel. Claire became so astute at anticipating Elena’s needs that even before she got to the letter ‘i’ of drink she realised Elena was thirsty. Elena was unable to swallow and if anything was put into her mouth she was in danger of choking, but Claire got the idea of wrapping an ice cube in muslin and Nurse Lewis agreed to try it.
‘We are taking a risk, lass,’ she said quietly, ‘but if we are very careful I think it will work.’
Claire held the ice against Elena’s lips and the drops of moisture seeping through in tiny quantities afforded the sick woman a measure of ease.
‘You are so good with her,’ Fernando whispered gratefully as he sat watching them. Claire turned her head to smile at him, relieved that he was present not Antonio, asshe felt slightly in awe of the older man.
Elena soon dropped into an exhausted doze and Claire leaned tiredly back in her own chair to rest.
‘I cannot thank you enough for all you are doing,’ Fernando told her, and his mouth wobbled and he blinked away easy tears.
Claire looked away uncomfortably, and wished he would not make so much of it. She considered she was only doing what any caring person would do, and did not require thanks. From the start she had felt a deep affinity with his mother. She couldn’t say what it was that had drawn her to Elena that first day; she only knew that she felt a deep affection for the Spanish woman. What she did for her stemmed from love not duty.
Sheena was only vaguely aware that Claire was spending a lot of time with Fernando’s mother and that Elena was seriously ill. Most of what Claire told her went over her head for she was totally caught up in her obsession with Miguel, and all reason and restraint had been washed away. If Alejandro had not gone off without a word and left her so totally on her own, Sheena might have recovered her balance, but in his absence and in the absence of any other distraction she could not keep away from the apartment.
All that week she had gone there, drawn by the lure of the other man. Miguel was a strange mixture, rough and gentle by turns. He was a man who was slow to climax and never seemed to tire of bedding her. He used her for his pleasure and that in itself made her excitement more intense. Sheena was a little frightened of him but then fear was half the attraction
Sometimes he made her do things to him that she did not understand, like tying a scarf about his neck until he almost lost consciousness. When he wanted to do it to her she was afraid, but the strange languorous feeling it inspired greatly excited her. Sometimes he slapped her or denied her orgasm, but this too only served to increase her desire for him.
And all the time he kept her on leading strings of hope, telling her Alejandro had sent messages that he was missing her and would soon be back. One afternoon when she came to the apartment she found Miguel putting clothes in a case.
‘Are you going away?’ Sheena asked in dread.
‘Sí...and you too, my little bimbo,’ Miguel murmured, intent on his task. ‘Alejandro has sent word you are to come. He is waiting for us in Gibraltar. We must leave at once.’
Sheena’s heart leapt.
‘I’ll go pack my things,’ she offered eagerly.
Miguel frowned. ‘No, there is no time. We must start at once.’
‘But I’ve nothing with me.’
‘I can give you everything you need. Come, let us hurry.’ He snapped the catches on his case and straightened up. Sheena shrugged and allowed herself to be persuaded. She would stop on the way and buy herself shorts and a T-shirt, she thought, and maybe ring Claire at the same time and let her know where she was headed.
Ten minutes later they were driving towards Malaga, the roof of Miguel’s battered ‘79 Lamborghini rolled fully back. As they sped along, Sheena’s dark hair whipped about her face and she was filled with excitement at the prospect of seeing Alejandro again.
The evening sun was warm on her shoulders as Claire took a short break from Elena’s bedside and strolled away from the hospital, glad to be out in the air. Her head ached from long hours in the stuffy atmosphere of the sick room and her back felt permanently stooped from bending over the sick woman’s bed.
&
nbsp; Elena had grown progressively weaker each day and clearly the end was very near. Claire had not left the hospital in the past twenty-four hours except to take the briefest of breaks. Tonight she was prepared for another long vigil by the bed of the dying woman.
Claire had never felt so glad of anything as Ruthie’s friendship with Adela for the little girl seemed more than content in her company. Once or twice, Claire had spoken to Ruthie on the telephone. Ignacio also confirmed that Ruthie was in good spirits and assured Claire that Ruthie was welcome to stay at the hotel until Jane arrived or Claire was free to return to the apartment, whenever that would be. Claire had shivered, not wanting to be free in the way he implied. Elena’s death would be a merciful release, but Claire dreaded it with all her heart. While Elena lived, so too did hope. In her exhaustion and grief, Claire could not see beyond this.
She did a circuit of the streets and went into a church on the corner of the square. She sat near the altar and began to pray, her tired gaze fixed on the ornate figure of the Madonna and child, richly attired in satins and silks. As she sat there, surrounded by tier upon tier of red offertory lights, her senses drowning in the aura of red wax, Claire wondered if Elena had ever come to this church to pray. She wondered too if, before she died, Elena would be able to speak again to her through the abecedario, and found herself petitioning Our Lady that this might be so. When she hurried back to the hospital in the cool of the evening, Fernando was pacing the corridor and his face lit up at the sight of her.
‘Claire! I have made contact with my brother at last,’ he told her. ‘He has returned to his military academy and, in the circumstances, the authorities have agreed to allow him return home. So I must go at once to Cadiz.’
Claire said sympathetically. ‘How dreadful that you have to leave now with your mother so ill...’
Fernando looked pained. ‘There is no help for it. I must go, Claire. She will want to see him and his place is at her side.’ He shook his head dispiritedly. ‘Alejandro is wayward and thoughtless, but he is not a bad fellow.’
