Tell Me Who I Am

by Julia Navarro

  Amelia left the room and shut herself in the bedroom. She wanted to cry but could not. To her surprise, she fell asleep immediately.

  From that night on, they established a routine that was filled with silence. Although Pierre was extremely humble, he tried to avoid her.

  One of the few conversations they had was when Amelia asked him if he had informed on Igor Krisov.

  “It was my duty to inform the authorities of his presence here, he’s a deserter.”

  She looked at him with contempt and he tried to justify himself.

  “If I hadn’t informed on him then we would have become suspects, collaborators! I will never be a traitor!”

  “Krisov was always kind to me,” Amelia murmured.

  A few days later Natalia turned up at the house, worried because Pierre had stopped visiting her, or even calling her, and she could not avoid a secret thrill when she saw the crisis that was affecting the couple.

  “I am sorry for coming without warning, but I missed you,” she said when Amelia opened the door.

  “Come in, Natalia, Pierre is working in the salon. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “I would appreciate it, it’s cold. How are you? You didn’t come to Gloria’s house for lunch, we missed you.”

  “Like I told her, I have a bit of a cold.”

  Natalia noticed that Amelia did not seem to have any symptoms, but she said nothing; on the other hand, Pierre’s icy greeting did worry her.

  “We didn’t expect you. What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I missed you, I haven’t heard anything from you for a week and everyone was asking me what had happened to the ‘inseparable trio’...”

  Pierre didn’t say anything, and looked annoyed when Amelia said she was going to the kitchen to make some tea.

  “I don’t want anything, I’ve got work to do,” he said without trying to hide his bad mood.

  “I won’t be here long,” Natalia said, getting ever more uncomfortable.

  As soon as Amelia had left the room she looked at Pierre, wanting to ask for an explanation.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean, nothing? I have important information to give you and you haven’t been in touch. Also... well... I missed having you near me,” she whispered.

  “Shush! I don’t want you to say anything here, I’ll call you.”

  “When?”

  “When I can.”

  Amelia came in with a tray bearing a teapot and three cups, as well as an apple pie that she had bought in El Gato Negro, a Spanish-owned shop where you could buy anything.

  For all that Natalia tried to enliven the conversation, neither Amelia nor Pierre seemed prepared to help her. She saw the tension between them and how they avoided speaking to one another. Natalia decided that it was better to leave them alone. But before she left, while Amelia went to find her coat, she indicated to Pierre that it was important they should see each other. He nodded but said nothing.

  When Natalia left, Amelia came into the room and sat in front of the table where Pierre was working.

  “I’ve made up my mind, and I think that the sooner I tell you the better for us both. Our friends are calling and want to know why we don’t accept their invitations, and even Natalia comes to the house, worried about us.”

  “Natalia is a bit of a busybody,” Pierre replied.

  “No, she’s not, she was right, she was always with us, and she doesn’t understand what’s going on. If you don’t mind, I think the time has come for us to talk.”

  Pierre closed the account book he was working with and prepared to listen to Amelia. He had no desire at all to argue with her. He had told himself over these past few days that he was lost without her.

  “I am going to go back to Spain. My country is at war, sunk in a terrible civil war, and I don’t want to live with my back turned to everything that’s happening there. I haven’t heard anything about my family since we arrived here, and I can’t bear the idea that something might have happened to them. I know that they will never forgive my behavior, which was flighty and vain, but even if they decide never to speak to me again I will be happy to be near them. I don’t imagine that my husband will let me see my son, but I would be happy to see him even from a distance: I need to see him grow up, to see him run around, to see him laugh, to see him cry... and maybe I will be able to go up to him one day and beg his forgiveness...”

  “You can’t go,” Pierre murmured, his face tense.

  “If you’re worried about what I know, don’t be; I won’t ever tell anyone that you’re a Soviet spy. I will keep that secret. I won’t ruin your life, I just want to go home.”

  “I can’t let you go...”

  “What will you do? Denounce me to the Soviet Embassy? I’m not an agent.”

  “I’m sorry, Amelia, but you have been an agent without knowing it, you’re what we call a ‘blind’ agent, someone who works for us without knowing that that’s what she’s doing. I brought you here as an alibi to set myself up without anybody being suspicious. It was easier for people to be willing to open their doors to a couple who were deeply in love. Moscow approved of my plan, and it was a success. Thanks to your friend Carla Alessandrini, and the contacts that she provided for us, we have been able to get to know people who are very useful for our cause. And... well, my mission was to set up a network of agents, that takes time, but thanks to you I have managed to set one up in a very few months. You heard Igor Krisov: They value my reports in Moscow, they value the information my agents provide.”

  “You’re a rat!” Amelia burst out.

  “I am, and I am sorry. The only thing I can say is that I love you, and more than using you, the important thing is what you mean to me. I love you, Amelia, much more than I thought I did. You cannot go, we are united by a cause, you are part of Moscow’s plan for Buenos Aires. They won’t just let you leave like that.”

  “Not even Moscow will stop me going, unless they kill me,” Amelia replied, and got to her feet.

  8

  Amelia was firmly decided that she would leave Pierre, though she had no money of her own and was entirely dependent on him. This circumstance made her realize the importance of having her own source of income in order to take control of her own life. She had gone from the care of her family to that of her husband, and from that of her husband to that of Pierre. She had never been lacking for anything, but neither had she had anything that was specifically hers, and she understood that to follow Krisov’s advice to take control of her life there was nothing for her to do but to work. Pierre would not give her the money to buy a return ticket to Europe, and she did not feel capable of asking to borrow the money, so she decided to work.

  The day after their conversation, Amelia went to Gloria Hertz’s gallery.

  “I need to work. Can you help me?”

  “What’s wrong? Is the bookshop not going well?”

  “Quite the opposite, it’s going extremely well, better than Pierre had imagined, but this isn’t about the bookshop, it’s about me, I want to be independent and have my own money.”

  It was not difficult for Gloria to realize that this request came as the result of a crisis between Amelia and Pierre.

  “Have you quarreled with Pierre?” Gloria asked.

  “I want to leave him and go back to Spain, and to do that I need to work,” she replied simply.

  “I don’t want to get involved in something that is none of my business, but are you sure that this isn’t a passing quarrel? After all you’ve been through together...”

  “I want to go back to my country. I can’t get the war out of my head, how my son is, what’s happened to my family.”

  “Have you stopped loving Pierre?”

  “Perhaps... In fact, when I look back I am surprised that I decided to run away with him, that I fell in love with him. But I can’t regret things that happened in the past, I have no control over them,
but I am the mistress of my future.”

  Gloria was impressed to hear Amelia talk this way; she suddenly seemed to have become a mature woman, not the sweet and friendly girl whom everyone wanted to spend time with.

  “And what does Pierre say about all this?” insisted Gloria.

  “He doesn’t want me to go, but it’s a decision that doesn’t depend on him but on me. And it’s a decision that has been made, I just need the money to go home.”

  “And he... well... he doesn’t want to help you?”

  “Pierre will not help me to return, so I have to rely on myself. I need a job. Can you help me find one?”

  “It’s not easy... But perhaps we could lend you the money.”

  “No, not that. I don’t want to be in anyone’s debt. I prefer to work.”

  “Well, what can you do?”

  “Whatever, I don’t mind, I only want to earn enough money to pay for my ticket.”

  “I’ll speak to Martin, maybe he’ll be able to think of something... but... Are you sure? All couples fight at times, I’ve wanted to separate from Martin in the past, but what’s important is love, in the final analysis, if a couple loves each other, then nothing else matters.”

  “You’re right, there has to be love, and I don’t feel enough love to be sure of wanting to continue with Pierre. I want to go back to Spain,” Amelia insisted.

  She spent the rest of the morning walking through the city looking for anything that could be a job offer. When she was headed home, she came across a sign in the door of a cake shop that said help wanted, and she said a little prayer.

  Amelia didn’t think twice and walked in. The cake shop was small, decorated simply but in good taste, and its owners were an old couple. They were both Spanish. They had emigrated from Lugo at the end of the nineteenth century and had worked hard to get their little shop, which made them proud because it was the fruit of their own efforts and sleepless nights. They had no children, and although Doña Sagrario had been sad about this for a while, in the end she accepted what she saw to be God’s will. As far as Don José was concerned, he truly missed having no children, but he never said this to his wife.

  Don José was sick, he had suffered two heart attacks, and the last one had also affected his brain, leaving the left side of his body paralyzed. Doña Sagrario had no time to look after her husband and their business, so they had decided to employ someone to take charge of the cake shop.

  The two women felt an immediate connection, and Doña Sagrario was pleased to discover that Amelia was a good cook and knew something about baking.

  “You can help me to make the cakes and tarts as well as sell them,” the good old woman said.

  The salary was not very high, but Amelia calculated that a few months would be enough for her to save up enough money for a passage on any boat going to France, and from there to make her way back to Spain. She didn’t mind the idea of traveling in third class, without luxuries or comforts.

  Doña Sagrario suggested that she start immediately, and Amelia accepted with pleasure. She worked behind the counter, and when there were no clients she went into the kitchen that was just behind the shop to help Doña Sagrario with the cake batter. Don José looked at them silently, but Doña Sagrario assured Amelia that he was happy that they had hired her.

  It was growing dark when Amelia returned home, where Pierre was waiting for her nervously.

  “But where have you been! I’ve been worried about you! Gloria called me a while back to say that she might have found a job for you. What’s all this about working? You haven’t asked me, and let me tell you: Don’t even think about it.”

  But Amelia was not the sweet young girl whom Pierre had once known, and she defended herself sharply, justifying her recently initiated journey toward independence.

  “You do not own me. As far as I know, you don’t approve of private property, so there’s no way you are going to own a human being such as me. I have decided to work, to earn money and to buy a ticket on any boat that will take me back to France. I asked Gloria if she knew of any jobs, but I’ve been lucky and found one by myself, in fact I have already started working.”

  Pierre listened to her in silence, and every word was like a blow to the stomach.

  “Amelia, I have asked you to forgive me... I have explained to you why I couldn’t let you know, for your own safety... What else do you want? Isn’t it enough that I love you? You said that this was the only thing that was important to you, that I love you...”

  “You have to realize that things have changed, that I have changed. You can’t expect to betray me as you have betrayed me and for nothing to happen. Do you really think so little of me, Pierre? Of course... you must have your own motives for thinking of me a fool. You have manipulated me like a puppet, I have followed you blindly, without thinking, but I am awake now, Pierre; your friend Krisov has brought me back to reality, and I blame myself as much as you for what happened. I hate myself for what I have done, so you must understand that I hate you for it as well.”

  “And what about our dreams, our ideals? We were going to change the world.”

  “They were your dreams and your ideals, never mine, not mine, Pierre; my only dream now is to go back to my country and to be with my people. I know that neither my father nor my uncle will have supported the rebels against the Republic, and I fear for them, just as I fear for Santiago and for my son.”

  “Don’t leave me, Amelia,” Pierre begged.

  “I’m sorry, but as soon as I can I will go.”

  Gloria and Martin insisted on inviting them to dinner. They were worried about the couple and were convinced that their problems were only temporary. Amelia resisted but in the end gave in, and one night after her work at the cake shop was done she met with Pierre and the Hertzes.

  Amelia liked talking to Martin because they always spoke in German. He insisted that they speak the language so they would not forget it.

  “I’m surprised by how good an accent you have,” Martin said.

  “That’s what my friend Yla said, but I’d forget it all if it weren’t for you.”

  “I’ve got a letter from an uncle of mine who has managed to make it to New York. If you’d like I can tell him to look for Yla and her parents, but I’ll need some details to start the search.”

  “I don’t know, Martin, I don’t know; my cousin Laura only told me that Herr Itzhak had yielded to the evidence of the danger that Hitler posed to the Jews, and that he was preparing for Yla to go to New York. I hope he managed it!”

  They spoke about everything and about nothing, but in spite of the Hertzes’ efforts to animate the discussion, neither Pierre nor Amelia were in the mood to hide the huge chasm that there was between them.

  Little by little, Pierre was growing accustomed to the new routine that Amelia had imposed upon them. They slept apart, he on the sofa and she in the room that they had shared until the night that Igor Krisov came around.

  Amelia was up with the dawn, left Pierre’s lunch ready for him, and went to the cake shop, where Doña Sagrario was teaching her everything she knew about baking. There were occasions when Amelia had to take charge of the shop all by herself, either because Don José was not feeling well or even, as had happened on a couple of occasions, because they had had to take him to hospital.

  When she got home she greeted Pierre but she made no effort to enter into conversation with him, she didn’t even ask him how his day had been. She was normally exhausted and only wanted to rest.

  For his part, Pierre continued his affair with Natalia. He saw her more often now that he and Amelia slept apart.

  He told Natalia that his relationship with Amelia was not going well, and Natalia took care to provide everything that Amelia was no longer offering. She also took ever greater risks removing documents from Government House, to show Pierre that she was willing to perform any act of madness for him.

  Miguel López was still a source of privileged information, as he now dealt w
ith the ciphers coming into Argentina from its embassies all over the world.

  Pierre’s controller, the ambassador’s secretary, congratulated him from time to time, assuring him that Moscow was happy with his work, and although they had not suggested again that he go to Russia, Pierre could not help worrying that they would, as Krisov’s warnings had filled him with fear.

  It was not until Christmas 1937 that major new changes arose in Pierre and Amelia’s life.

  Amelia exchanged letters with Carla Alessandrini, and kept these letters as though they were precious jewels. The diva spoke about her successes or else complained about the inconvenience caused by her busy schedule, but especially she gave her opinion of the civil war in Spain, a country where Carla had many friends.

  Amelia had asked in her last letter for her to try to get in touch with her cousin Laura Garayoa in order to find out about her family.

  Pierre, without Amelia’s knowledge, read these letters when Amelia went out to work. He was afraid of losing complete control over her, and justified his behavior to himself by saying that if he read Carla’s letters it was to protect Amelia, to stop her from telling the diva something she should not.

  He always waited for Amelia to read them before hunting them out from the chest of drawers where she kept them.

  Gloria and Martin invited them to dinner on December 24 to celebrate Christmas. Although Martin was Jewish, he had also incorporated Catholic festivities into his daily life, and joked with his wife to the effect that they had more parties than other people.

  Although Amelia had no desire to celebrate Christmas, she did not want to disappoint her friends and agreed to dine with them and Pierre.