He smiled. ‘I know you do.’
‘It’s time for you to find your own happy ending now, Larry. There’s someone special waiting for you out there, I just know it. And whoever she is had better deserve you.’ She stumbled over the Persian rug, jerking her glass and spilling champagne down the front of her blouse. Larry reached out to steady her. ‘Careful.’
She dabbed at the stain with her handkerchief. ‘It’s OK, I don’t think it’s ruined.’
‘No, I meant be careful of the rug, two grand that cost.’
She laughed and flicked her hair over her shoulders, a habit she’d had for years. ‘Two grand? You can buy a new car for that.’
‘It’s antique.’
‘Bloody hell, Larry. You’ve come a long way. Two grand on a rug that’s not even new.’
‘Its value goes up, not down. Unless of course somebody chucks champagne all over it.’
Carol smiled and reached for his face, stopping just before her fingers connected with his cheek. ‘Oh, Larry, I really hope you find someone soon.’ She cast her hand around the room. ‘I don’t like to think of you rattling round here on your own. How many bedrooms did you say you have?’
‘Six.’
‘Wow, six?’
She turned and ran her hand along the back of the cream leather sofa. She picked up the furry purple cushion and bashed it into shape, before clutching it to her chest and burying her nose in the fur. ‘It’s all fabulous, Larry, but you can’t tempt me back with material things. You of all people should know that I’m just not that shallow. I love Martin and I know that’s painful for you to hear but I made my choice.’
He looked down at his feet, her words affecting him more deeply than he cared to show. He might have known Carol wouldn’t be swayed by this ostentatious showing-off, but it would annoy Martin no end and the fact that Larry had appeared to have made something of himself would gnaw away at his brother until all that remained would be a bitter empty shell. He managed a smile. ‘I know I’ve lost you, Carol.’ He held his palms up in defeat. ‘I know you love Martin, but it’s too painful for me to witness. You’ll always be my one true love. I’m sorry, but I just can’t imagine being happy with anyone else.’ He reached for her hand. ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ She didn’t reply but as her eyes glistened, a single tear escaped which he gently caressed away with his thumb. She tilted her face up to his, their mouths only inches apart. He could feel her warm breath on his lips. The tender moment was savaged by Martin returning from the garden.
‘Bloody hell, Larry,’ he yelled. ‘I leave you alone for five minutes and here you are quoting Shakespeare to my wife.’
Carol swivelled round. ‘Stop shouting, Martin, you’re showing yourself up. Larry and I were just talking.’
Martin strode into the room, flecks of soil from his shoes sprinkling the cream shag pile. He positioned himself between them and stared up at Larry. ‘Well, what do you have to say for yourself?’
Larry calmly reached for his glass, swirled the contents around, then took a sip. ‘It was Tennyson, Martin, not Shakespeare.’
9
They drove home to San Sedeza along lanes that were unkempt, littered with rubble and full of potholes. Fearing he would spook the horses in the trailer behind, Leo kept a slow, steady pace, his foot barely touching the accelerator. Mateo slept in the seat beside him, his head lolling forward every now and then, momentarily jolting him awake. Diablo had moved quietly and without fuss into the trailer and stood patiently alongside Armonia, who had proven the more difficult horse to load. Perhaps the old man had exaggerated Diablo’s manic tendencies. Maybe Leo had got himself a bargain.
His father was in the yard when they returned. Leo jumped out of the truck and called to him. ‘Papa, come and see what we’ve got.’
Mateo woke, scrambled down from the cab and ran over to his father. He tugged excitedly on his arm. ‘Papi, we’ve got two horses, a pink one and a big black one who the man said was mean but he isn’t. It was the man who was mean because he had him tied up and he didn’t give him any water and . . .’
Felipe patted his younger son’s head. ‘Whoa, slow down, Mateo.’ He called to Leo for clarification. ‘What’s all this?’
Leo had pulled down the back of the trailer. ‘I couldn’t leave him, Papa.’
Felipe frowned when he saw Diablo. ‘He’s hobbled?’
Leo nodded. ‘I decided to leave him like that for the journey, just in case.’ He handed his father a halter. ‘Can you take the mare?’
Felipe nodded his approval. ‘She’s a fine specimen, hijo.’
Armonia allowed herself to be led into the paddock, her ears pricked to the sights and sounds of her new home. Released from her halter, she flicked her tail, gave a little buck then cantered around the field, whinnying to the other horses in the distance.
Marissa came out of the farmhouse, clutching a feather duster, her cheeks flushed. ‘At last, you come home. Where is my little boy?’
‘I’m here, Mama.’ Mateo ran to her and she scooped him up, squeezing him to her chest.
He kicked his legs. ‘I can’t breathe, Mama.’
She let him slide to the ground as Leo led Diablo out of the trailer, the horse hesitant, his hobbled gait unnatural.
Marissa stared, her mouth open. ‘What is that?’ she managed eventually.
‘He’s our new horse, Mama. Leo saved him. The man who had him was cruel.’ Mateo pointed to Diablo’s bloodied fetlock. ‘Look at his poorly leg. The man did that to him.’
Marissa took a step back. ‘I don’t like the look of him. He has the evil look in his eye.’
‘No, Mama, don’t say that. Nobody else wanted him.’
‘And you wonder why?’
Felipe slung his arm over his wife’s shoulder. ‘Leo knows what he’s doing, Marissa. I’ve taught him well. You worry too much.’
She flicked the feather duster into his face. ‘It’s my job to worry.’ She called to Mateo. ‘Come in the kitchen and get washed before supper.’
‘Aww, Mama, I want to help Leo. How will I ever learn?’
‘There’s plenty of time for that but right now you have to learn to be a good boy and do as your mama says. Come, come.’
‘Go with Mama,’ Leo said. ‘It’s better that I see to Diablo on my own at first, just whilst he’s getting used to his new surroundings.’
‘Diablo? What is this madness?’ Marissa shouted. ‘You bring a horse named after the devil into my home?’ She crossed herself and looked skywards. ‘Santa Maria, madre de Dios.’ She took the grumbling Mateo by the wrist and led him into the kitchen, all the while shaking her head.
Dusk had already fallen as Leo tended to Diablo. The cold began to nip at his ears and nose. Leo pulled his hat down and adjusted the scarf so that it covered his mouth. The horse was tethered to a post in the yard, munching contentedly on the hay net. Leo stroked his velvet muzzle and pulled gently on his ears. He traced his finger over the white star between his eyes then ran his hand along the horse’s flank; Diablo’s coat shone like polished ebony. He seemed calm, docile even, and Leo silently congratulated himself on his ability to spot a good horse when he saw one.
‘Buenas tardes, Leonardo.’
He looked up to see Gabriela sashaying into the yard, a crocheted shawl around her shoulders to ward off the evening chill. He instinctively smoothed his hair. ‘Gabriela, what’re you doing here?’
‘Ha, charming as always.’ She carried a wicker basket in the crook of her elbow. ‘Your mama invited me for supper.’ She indicated the basket. ‘I’ve brought dessert.’ She peeled back the tea cloth. ‘The last pomegranates of the season.’
It appeared his mother had taken the matter into her own hands.
‘I’ve got to tend to this one.’ He nodded at Diablo. ‘See his foot? Been tied up and the rope has cut into his skin. I’m just going to hose the leg and then apply some honey. It’ll help to heal it.’
&n
bsp; ‘The poor thing. Can I do anything?’
‘You can come and talk to him, keep him calm, if you like.’
Gabriela laughed, the sound delicate, like the tinkling of fine china. ‘Talk to a horse? You are funny, Leo.’
He reached for her hand. ‘Come here and stroke his nose then.’ He guided her hand under Diablo’s mouth and she giggled as his whiskers tickled her palm.
‘What’s he called, Leo?’
‘Diablo.’
She whipped her hand away as though she had been bitten and took a step backwards. ‘Oh no, Leo, you must change it.’
‘You’re as bad as my mother. It’s unlucky to change a horse’s name.’ He turned the hose on and let the cool water run down the horse’s leg. ‘There’s no such thing as a bad horse, Gabriela, only bad owners. And this one’s had his fair share of those, but he’s home now, all that’s in the past.’ He turned off the water and nuzzled Diablo’s neck. ‘You’re a fine horse, Diablo, and nobody is going to hurt you anymore.’
After supper, Gabriela and Leo retired to his loft bedroom over the barn. A few winters back, he and his father had converted it into a rustic but comfortable living space, thus affording Leo some privacy, which he had taken full advantage of. The floorboards were bare and there were too many cobwebs lurking in the corners but it was his space and he only had to share it with the mice.
Gabriela sat on the bed and bounced up and down, testing the springs. ‘This is lovely, Leo, very homely. I bet you’ve brought a few girls up here, haven’t you?’
The mischievous glint in her eye confused him and he decided to ignore the question. ‘I like to be close to the horses.’ He flicked on a bedside lamp and saw then that she was smiling, a crooked smile that seemed to hint at something else.
‘Leo, I’ve been thinking about what Mateo said this morning.’
He pretended he had forgotten. ‘What was that then?’
She pinched him playfully on the arm. ‘You know what, Leo. About you asking me out.’
‘Oh, that. Just ignore him, he’s only a little kid, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.’
‘Do you ever think about it? Asking me out, I mean.’
He sat down next to her on the bed and fell silent as he pulled off his boots. No greater chance than this would ever present itself. He reached for her cheek, then stopped before making contact. It was too soon for such a bold move. ‘I rarely think about anything else, Gabriela.’
‘Then what’s stopping you, Leo?’
‘I think . . . how can I say this . . . I think you deserve more than I can give you. You deserve someone who can provide you with a better life. A life where you don’t have to rise in the middle of the night to bake bread, a life which takes you away from here, a chance to flourish in the city perhaps, see the world, experience things that living here we can only dream of.’
‘But I don’t want all that, Leo. I love the panadería. My family has made the bread for this village for five generations. And I love you too, Leo.’ She reached for his face and unlike him a moment ago, she had the courage to make contact with his shadowed cheek.
‘You’re so young, Gabriela. Perhaps you don’t know what you’re missing out on yet.’ He removed her hand from his cheek but held onto it, lacing his fingers through hers. ‘I’m older than you, more . . . um . . . experienced . . .’
‘I don’t care that I am not the first girl to lie down with you in this bed. I only care that I am the last one.’
She scooped his dark fringe off his face and leaned towards him, the sweet scent of the pomegranates lingering on her breath. With one hand, she began to unbutton his shirt. He gently took hold of her wrist. ‘There’s no rush, Gabriela.’
‘But Leo, I’ve loved you for most of my life. We’ve grown up together, shared memories, childish secrets. You carried my books home from school, remember? I’ve watched you grow into a man . . . a beautiful man, caring and passionate, a man who has so much love to give. I’ve seen the way you are with Mateo, with the horses. It’s wonderful.’ She cast her arm around the loft. ‘It’s time to settle down, Leo. The time for frivolous conquests is over. You could search for another twenty-five years, but you’ll never find anybody who will love you as much as the girl sitting on this bed right now.’
‘Time to settle down? You’ve been talking to my mama.’
He seemed to be surrounded by women who thought they knew what was best for him. Maybe the time had come to stop fighting it and accept that this village was his home and always would be. Sometimes he did wonder what the rest of the world had to offer but he knew deep down that he would never leave this place. He’d travelled to Madrid once and had almost suffocated in the heat and the squash of people. There didn’t seem to be enough air for everyone. It had been exciting for a weekend but he couldn’t wait to return to the golden fields and comforting smells of home. If he could bottle the smell of horse sweat, manure and hay, he would surely make his fortune. There wasn’t an animal in this world that smelled as good as a horse. He’d had his fair share of the girls, more than his fair share if truth be told. During the holiday season, he could take his pick from a different girl every week, each one of them eager to succumb to the wily charms of the exotic horseman, whose expert hands could calm the most nervous filly. But he’d never been in love. Until now.
‘Leo?’
He closed his hands around her cheeks and leaned in, allowing one hand to slide round the back of her neck, pulling her closer. He could feel her warm breath as his lips met hers; her soft mouth was everything he had ever imagined. She pressed herself close to him as his hands searched under her dress. Then he stopped. ‘Wait, Gabriela. I want to do things right this time. I want to slow down, I want to treat you with the respect you deserve.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Gabriela Cruz, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?’
She stood up and smoothed down her dress. She had the ample figure of someone who had grown up in a panadería and the carb-laden diet had produced some generous curves.
‘Leonardo Perez, I would be delighted to accept your kind invitation.’
‘In that case, it’s a date. I’ll . . .’
He stopped at the sound of a horse whinnying. Not the contented snicker a horse gave when he was greeting another but an angry, guttural roar, followed by the sound of the stable door splintering.
Leo was on his feet instantly, grappling for his boots. ‘Diablo.’
He shimmied down the ladder, not bothering with the rungs, and sprinted into the yard. Despite the gloom he could see Diablo was standing square, his chest heaving and his nostrils flared to reveal an angry red lining. White foam speckled his muzzle and his eyes were wide and manic. ‘Easy there, boy. It’s OK. Did something spook you?’ Leo moved closer, his upturned palm stretched out so that Diablo could sniff it. He heard Gabriela gasp behind him but he didn’t dare turn round. No sudden movements, just gentle coaxing and soothing words as he approached the terrified horse. He had almost managed to grab the halter when Diablo reared up onto his hind legs, his silver shoes flashing before Leo’s eyes. Gabriela screamed as he leaped back out of harm’s way but he was too slow and Diablo lurched towards him, knocking him to the ground. He landed hard on his back and felt the breath leave his body on impact. Groaning, he managed to roll onto his side and then up onto his knees. He felt like he was breathing through a straw. ‘Where . . . where did he go?’ he gasped.
Gabriela was beside him. ‘He ran out of the yard and jumped the fence. ‘Dios mio, are you alright, Leo?’ She rubbed his back as the farmhouse door opened and Marissa and Felipe ran into the yard.
‘Leo,’ Marissa screamed. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘Just . . . just winded, Mama.’
She hurried over and dropped to her knees. ‘I knew that horse was trouble but would you listen?’
‘Not now, Mama.’ He reached for his father. ‘Help me up, will you, Papa.’
Felipe hoisted him to his feet. ‘
He won’t go far, Leo, I’m sure. He’s just enjoying the freedom. Probably never had the chance to express himself so freely, that’s all.’
‘Mmm . . .’ muttered Marissa. ‘I’d like to get my hands on him and express myself.’
Leo smiled. He knew his mother wouldn’t go within an arm’s length of the beast.
‘Leo, come into the kitchen and get yourself cleaned up. I’m just going to check on Mateo. I don’t know how he can have slept through all this commotion.’
‘Yes, Mama.’
Leo dusted off his shirt and stretched his back, pulling his shoulder blades together to squeeze out the stiffness. He would need a torch, a lead rein and a bucket of feed, for no way would he leave Diablo to his own devices. He had seen fear in the horse’s eyes, not malice.
Gabriela came up behind him. ‘I’m going home now, Leo.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘I hope you find the horse.’
‘Gabriela, I . . .’ He stopped as his mother’s scream echoed round the yard. She had gathered up her skirts and was now standing in the doorway, the warm glow from the fire in the grate enhancing her silhouette.
‘Mateo’s gone,’ she yelled. ‘My baby boy has gone.’
10
It was Gabriela who found him. He would never have thought her usually delicate voice would be capable of producing such an ear-splitting scream. ‘Leeoooo!’ She almost choked on the elongated vowels.
Leo was in the hay barn, lifting up horse blankets and heaving over bales. Mateo often liked to curl up with the cats, and his favourite smoky-grey one had just produced another litter of kittens. He ran into the yard, colliding with Gabriela. ‘He . . . he’s in the stable,’ she gasped. ‘I don’t think he’s breathing, Leo.’
Brushing her aside, he rushed into Diablo’s stable. Mateo was lying amongst the straw, his dark hair plastered with blood, a gash across the bridge of his nose. His eyes were closed, his arm bent under his body, the unnatural angle confirming it was surely broken. Leo knelt beside him and pressed his fingers to the boy’s neck. ‘Thank God. He’s alive.’ He turned to Gabriela, who stood behind him, the silver cross she wore round her neck pressed to her lips. ‘Go and get Mama and Papa, they went down to check the pond.’
Her Last Promise Page 5
