‘How many children do you want?’ I asked her.
She squinted in the direction of the water. ‘Four: two boys and two girls. And you?’
I thought of cute Feliu with his button nose. ‘As many as I can,’ I replied.
We both laughed.
‘Well, you’ll be able to start a family soon,’ said Penélope. ‘Francesc has promised to return no later than the fifteenth of next month. I know for a fact that my grandmother’s engagement ring has been sent to the jewellers to be cleaned and refitted. I have a sneaking suspicion that’s for you because my mother asked your mother for your ring size.’
My heart sank. Another girl might have been thrilled that she was marrying the attractive son of a noble family, but I was despondent. All my fantasies of how Gaspar and I could be together had come to naught and the reality of what my future was going to be was starting to hit me. I lay back and turned my head, shading it with my hat as if I were protecting it from the sun when what I was really doing was hiding the tears that were welling in my eyes. Luckily for me, Penélope assumed I’d fallen asleep.
A few days later, I was playing in the garden with the Cerdàs’ two sheepdogs, Fiesta and Torero, when I heard excited voices coming from the house. One voice in particular caught my attention.
‘I’ve been staying with some artist friends in Cadaqués,’ Gaspar was saying. ‘I thought I’d drop by and see how everyone is.’
‘Well, Margarida and Evelina Montella are staying with us. Why don’t you join us for dinner this evening?’
I didn’t hear the conversation after that, but a few moments later, everyone burst out of the house and headed towards me. Gaspar was wearing a blue blazer and white pants. His copper-coloured hair blew in the breeze. A playful glint danced in his eyes. I thought he was the most beautiful man alive. I realised that while I liked Francesc, I would never experience with him what I felt when I saw Gaspar: the thrills and butterflies of falling in love.
Margarida was called from the gazebo. ‘Look who’s here!’ said Penélope, wrapping her arm around Gaspar. ‘My long-lost cousin!’
‘Why don’t you young people go for a walk on the beach?’ suggested the Marquesa. ‘Gaspar’s been working at nights. He could do with a bit of sun.’
The afternoon light was bright on the golden sand. The rocks beneath the clear water made the bay look like a map of the world. Margarida and Penélope found a common subject in the poetry of Lorca and walked on ahead of us, with the dogs leaping and prancing about them.
Gaspar lingered behind with me. ‘You’re more quiet than usual today, Evelina.’
My first instinct was to look away. I was so awed to be with him, I didn’t know what to say.
‘I hear Francesc is on his way back from England earlier than expected?’ Gaspar stared at the water and sighed before turning back to me. ‘He’s a lucky man. I wish he’d appreciate it more.’
And then I knew. I could see it in Gaspar’s eyes. He felt the same way about me as I did about him. But how could we even begin to broach this subject?
‘I am lucky too that Francesc wants to marry me,’ I said. ‘But not lucky enough that …’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. I wasn’t bold enough.
‘That what?’ asked Gaspar, looking at me with interest.
I had a lump in my throat. My tongue felt rough and I was afraid that if I tried to speak I’d only stutter. Once I said what was on my mind there would be no going back. If I was mistaken and Gaspar didn’t feel the same way, he would never be comfortable around me again. Could I live with that? Wasn’t it better to at least have him nearby even if I was married to Francesc? But I knew I could never be at peace unless I opened up to him.
‘I’m not lucky enough to be marrying the man I really love,’ I said.
Our eyes met. An expression flashed across Gaspar’s face that was both elated and troubled. He’d understood my meaning perfectly.
‘Maybe I should have done something,’ he said, pursing his lips. ‘Maybe I should have acted sooner.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought by going away … well, I didn’t understand how you felt. I tried to forget you.’
‘Gaspar …’ But I couldn’t say what I wanted to say. My heart was too full.
He glanced cautiously at the others, but they were busy throwing sticks for the dogs. I didn’t care if they noticed or not. All I cared about was that Gaspar loved me.
‘My life is not only music,’ he said. ‘Every country I visited, I wished you were there so you could see everything with me. I imagined you dancing in the streets with me for the Carnivale Rio, or drinking cocktails with me at the Park View Hotel in Havana.’
My heart leapt with joy. Every day that I had been thinking of Gaspar, he had been thinking of me. But he was sad.
‘Francesc has everything I can’t give you: a title, a family heritage, a fortune. Your father would never give me your hand even if I asked him.’
A pain stabbed my heart. If Pare had been so indulgent of Margarida, why couldn’t he allow me to live the life I wanted too?
‘Then we’ll elope!’ I said.
Gaspar shook his head. ‘I would never put you through a scandal. It’s not only about being happy now, but about being contented in ten, twenty, thirty years from now. Could you be happy with me if I made you desert your family? Think of the shame it would bring on them.’
I tried to fight my tears. It was awful being a Montella. We weren’t a family: we were an institution. We didn’t have individual rights to happiness.
‘Evelina,’ Gaspar said gently, ‘don’t give up hope. I’ll ask Xavier. Perhaps he’s guessed our feelings, I don’t know. Maybe he will speak on my behalf to your father. I will work like a slave for you, Evelina. I will never leave you wanting for anything. But if I take the risk of asking for your hand and your parents don’t approve, they may prevent me from seeing you again. Are you prepared for that? To gamble everything?’
‘Yes!’ I told him. ‘Yes, I am prepared to lose everything on the chance I could win you!’
It was impossible to get through dinner calmly that evening, my stomach was so churned with excitement and anxiety. On the one hand, I liked being at the same table with Gaspar. I was blissful in the knowledge that our feelings were mutual. On the other hand, I felt deceitful. The Cerdà family had invited me and Margarida as guests with the expectation that I was soon to be their daughter-in-law. They would feel betrayed if I married Gaspar instead of Francesc. I tried to calm myself, but my mind was crammed with competing thoughts and my heart with confused feelings.
‘Are you all right, Evelina?’ the Marquesa asked me. ‘You’re quite pale.’
‘It’s that squid we ate for lunch,’ said the Marqués. ‘It certainly didn’t agree with me. I’ll have to speak to the cook.’
‘Have faith,’ Gaspar told me before he left that evening. ‘Be strong for me, Evelina.’
I didn’t fall asleep until late that night. I tossed and turned, and when I rose in the morning, I was burning with a fever. Margarida took advantage of my ill appearance to suggest that we return to Barcelona.
‘She misses Mama too much,’ she told our hosts.
‘That’s understandable,’ said the Marquesa, smiling at me indulgently before whispering to her husband, loud enough for me to hear, ‘I was the same on the eve of my engagement.’
I wasn’t any calmer in Barcelona than I had been in S’Agaró. When would Gaspar speak to Xavier? What would Xavier say? If he agreed, when would he ask my father? And every day, Francesc’s return grew closer. I lost several kilos in weight from worry.
One day, after my ballet lesson, Xavier asked to see me in the study. His face was solemn, but he was my brother and loved me so I tried not to worry.
‘I guess you know that Gaspar has spoken with me?’ he said.
I nodded. My throat felt dry. Why did Xavier sound so grave?
He looked at me with those eyes that matched mine perfectly in colour, then he stared at his hands
for a moment before saying, ‘As you can see, Conchita and I are not happy together. If I could wish you anything, Evelina, it would be a marriage that brings you joy as well as security. Francesc is a good-hearted fellow but he is not Gaspar.’ He paused and smiled. ‘I can fully understand why you have fallen in love with Gaspar. If I had been born a woman, I would have fallen in love with him too!’
My heart lifted.
Xavier reached out his hand to me and I took it. ‘I know that if you and Gaspar were allowed to marry, he would devote his life to your well-being. He has offered to give up working as a musician and take up law, or work for one of the Montella companies, if that would make our parents approve of him. I will speak to Pare and Mama, Evelina. I will put forward the case for your happiness as strongly as I can. But also understand that I may not succeed. Our parents have devoted their lives to building up the Montella fortune and name. We are not like other people. The burden of our position in society means that we cannot always do as we please.’
A few days after that discussion, Gaspar arrived at our house looking more nervous than I had ever seen him. I met him in the foyer and brushed his hand lightly, before he disappeared into the drawing room to meet Pare, who thought Gaspar was coming to see him about a business proposal, having no idea of our feelings for each other.
‘I’ll come and speak to you afterwards,’ promised Xavier. ‘Now go to your room and have faith. Pray for us.’
As I lingered near the top of the stairs, I heard Xavier escorting Mama to the drawing room. It was Catalan mothers who decided on their children’s wedding partners and it would have been foolish not to include her in the discussion. I already knew where Mama stood regarding Gaspar. My hope was that if Xavier could convince Pare the match was suitable, Pare in turn might persuade Mama to agree.
I was glad that Margarida was out for the day. I found it impossible to settle my mind while my future was being decided downstairs. Dear God, I prayed. Please let me and Gaspar be together. I stayed in that agitated state for nearly an hour. But the longer I waited, the more hope I felt. I reasoned that if my parents had refused to give any consideration to Gaspar’s proposal, the conversation would have been over by now.
I heard voices in the foyer and glanced out my door to see Gaspar leaving. Whether a proposal had been accepted or not, it was the custom for the suitor to leave immediately so the parents could discuss the matter with their child privately. When I ran back to my window and saw Gaspar getting into his car, I realised there was a flaw in our plan. I had not told him that I would be watching from the window and to wave if all had gone well. I chastised myself for not having had that foresight. All I could do now was brace myself for whatever news Xavier would bring.
Another half an hour passed before Xavier came to my door. His mouth was pinched. He shook his head. My heart pounded in a sickening way when I realised it was all over. I barely heard Xavier when he said that Gaspar had spoken from the heart and that he, my brother, had argued passionately that I should be given free choice in deciding on my marriage partner.
‘Pare said that you have been promised to Francesc Cerdà and that was it. Mama added that it wasn’t simply a marriage between two young people but a joining of two important lineages.’
‘It’s medieval,’ I said.
Although I knew we’d had a slim chance of changing my parents’ minds, the refusal came as a shock. I was wobbly on my feet. Xavier wrapped his arm around me. He didn’t try to console me with words, understanding that there was nothing to be said. As a man, he had some chance of finding solace outside his unhappy marriage to Conchita, but there would be no such outlet for me. The truth was terrible: I was to be a prisoner. And what for? An alliance?
The image of Gaspar leaving came back to me.
‘Gaspar!’ I cried. I clasped Xavier’s shoulders. ‘Xavier, I must speak to him! Gaspar and I must at least be able to say goodbye.’
Xavier shook his head. ‘He’s gone, Evelina. He’s going back to South America. It’s for the best.’
I moved away from Xavier and sat down on the bed. So that nervous exchange of hope in the foyer was to serve as my last contact with Gaspar? I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes but nothing could soothe my throbbing head.
When I looked up again, Mama was standing in the doorway. I stared at her, like someone peering through a fog.
‘I’d like to speak to Evelina alone,’ she told Xavier.
After Xavier had left, Mama came and stood next to me. ‘Didn’t I warn you not to entertain thoughts of someone who is beneath you, Evelina? You brought this unhappiness on yourself — and him.’
I glanced up at her. ‘How can Gaspar be beneath me?’ I asked. ‘He is more intelligent and talented than all of us put together.’
Mama frowned. ‘In social status, I mean.’
Her eyes fell to my hands. While waiting for Pare’s decision, I had bitten my nails and they were now rough and shabby.
I turned away from her. ‘That’s important to you and Pare. It’s not what matters most to me.’
Mama sighed. ‘Maybe not now. But trust me, it’s important. Do you think Pare and I are so callous as to not consider your happiness? Believe me, happiness runs out quickly when you don’t have a decent home and can’t give your children a stable life.’
‘Gaspar is very successful —’
Mama raised her voice to cut me off. ‘He has no name,’ she said. ‘His parents squandered away their place in society. And you are a Montella. Young love doesn’t last, Evelina. What counts is mutual respect.’
I shrugged. Mama and I didn’t seem to speak the same language any more.
‘I don’t think under the circumstances I should become engaged to Francesc Cerdà. It wouldn’t be right.’
Mama prickled. ‘The only people who know about this ridiculous state of affairs are your immediate family. I intend to keep it that way.’ She grabbed my face and turned me so that we were looking into each other’s eyes. Her fingers pressed into my skin so hard I was sure they’d leave bruises. ‘You will accept Francesc Cerdà’s proposal, do you hear? And you will be married before the end of September. Put your foolish notions about Gaspar Olivero out of your mind now. It’s over! Finished! We will not speak of it again.’
The next two months of my life were a blur. Francesc returned from England and proposed. I accepted because I had no other choice. I felt a certain detachment as we went on the rounds of visits and I showed off the diamond and sapphire engagement ring that had once belonged to Francesc’s grandmother. I didn’t feel that the ring belonged to me, as I felt my own life no longer belonged to me. If I could not marry the man I truly loved, how could I be real? I was a spectator watching a game.
As I walked down the aisle of Basílica de la Mercè alongside my father, I could smell orange blossoms and lilies mixed with the scent of dust and damp stone that always permeated the baroque church’s interior. In keeping with Catalan tradition, Francesc and his mother proceeded down the aisle in front of us. The dimness of the church and the halos of light from the chandeliers and candles added to the surreal atmosphere. I put one foot in front of the other, watching the hem of my lace dress sway with each step. I was lost in a hypnotic trance.
I glanced up and saw Mama sitting in the front pew, sobbing into her handkerchief. Margarida was weeping too. Only Xavier, dear Xavier, smiled for me, although his eyes were sad. Did he think he had failed me?
When Francesc and I were left at the altar to stand alone before the priest, my pulse pounded in my temples so violently that I thought I might faint. The aroma of frankincense from the priest’s censer was overwhelming. I remembered Gaspar telling me the night we saw la Rusa that the incense was made from the hardened resin of the boswellia tree, and this hardened resin was referred to as ‘tears’. Gaspar, he was always full of interesting facts, I thought. I saw his face before me, those alert eyes and ready smile. I heard his soothing voice in my ear: Have faith. Be strong for me, Evel
ina.
I glanced at the statue of Our Lady of Mercy. I had cried so much over my loss of Gaspar that I couldn’t cry any more. There was no more hope. There was only surrender.
Francesc touched my elbow and brought my mind back to the present. ‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered.
He was so warm and kind that it bolstered my spirits a little. At least my parents weren’t marrying me off to a monster. If I had never met Gaspar, I would have probably been happy to wed Francesc. It was a match that made my parents happy, the Cerdàs were pleasant people, and Francesc was handsome and possessed a fun personality. But I could not be happy now, and I was beginning to accept that I never would be. I thought of Conchita, sitting with my family and looking beautiful in her dress of turquoise silk. But her eyes were hollow and her mouth was stretched taut. Would I look like that ten years from now?
Although the church was crowded and the priest conducted a full Mass, the wedding ceremony seemed to be over in a few minutes. Before I knew it, my veil was lifted, the engagement ring that I had worn on my right hand had now become the wedding ring on my left ring finger, and Francesc and I were walking down the aisle as man and wife.
Outside, the early autumn light was fading. The guests cheered their congratulations and the feeling of being outside my body returned to me. Mama, Pare, Margarida and Xavier were standing together and I realised that I would never live with them again. From now on, I would be part of the Cerdà household. I looked at the Marqués and Marquesa and Penélope and suddenly they felt like complete strangers. And exactly how little I knew about my husband, I was soon to find out.
Mamie came back from her memories as the winter sky outside began to darken. I’d had no idea that she had been married before Avi. The troubles and the separation their love had endured cast them in a new light. Instead of being simply my grandparents, I saw them as romantic figures. I was dying to ask Mamie how, if she had been married to Francesc, she had ended up with Avi, but I was beginning to understand how complicated her life in Barcelona had been, and how many other people it had involved, and I knew that I had to be patient. I had to let Mamie tell the story her way.
Golden Earrings Page 29
