Luna Tango

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘Did you do the Google thing again?’ asked Gualberto, filling everyone’s glass.

  ‘About the Australian tango dancer?’ She took another sip, keen for the alcohol to do its job. Within moments the pain in her temples had eased slightly. ‘I know a little about her.’ Dani shifted in her chair. ‘Gualberto, what made you want to start playing the bandoneón?’

  A tsk came from Carlos. He shook his head, full lips twitching at the corners. ‘This is a nice diversion but I am aware of these tactics. Cousin,’ he turned to Gualberto, ‘do not answer unless she learns a new step.’

  ‘Oh no.’ Gualberto shook his head vehemently. ‘If I dance with this lovely lady I will need to use your cane.’

  The cousins laughed and Dani crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, suppressing a chuckle. A flash of electric blue sequins drew her attention to the far corner of the courtyard. A tall, thin woman in a fitted dress danced with natural grace, her long arms and legs forming beautiful arcs. Dani’s stomach lurched and she gripped the sides of the chair so hard she split a nail.

  ‘Excuse me a minute.’ The men stood as she got up and she smiled a thank you for their chivalry. They took a seat and carried on talking as she hurried away.

  A sea of bodies twirled and turned as Dani wove between half-empty tables and apologised profusely when she stepped on toes. The odds of this woman being Iris were about the same as Dani reuniting with Adam—i.e. zilch—but she couldn’t resist the urge to get a closer look. Not that Dani had any idea what she would do or say if the woman was her mother. What does one say after twenty years of silence? ‘Hi Mum, nice to see you. Love the dress.’ Yeah, right. Her heart told her to stop and turn around but her feet dragged her to the edge of the dance floor, where she halted and her eyes searched the crowd.

  Blue sequins flashed again and Dani stepped forwards, trying to avoid being swept away by the dancers. The woman’s pale skin caught the lights and her dark hair swung away from her face to reveal heavily painted, serious lips. Her long lashes closed for a moment, lost in the music, passion oozing from each graceful step. Dani let out a long sigh, relieved to discover it wasn’t Iris.

  The woman disappeared into the crowd with her partner and Dani stood still and chewed her lower lip. Buenos Aires was a city of ghosts.

  ‘There you are.’

  Warm breath grazed her ear as the deep voice jolted her into the present.

  ‘I thought we had scared you away.’ Carlos cocked his head towards the dance floor. ‘Are you ready for more?’

  She shook her head. ‘Sorry, but I’m done for tonight.’

  ‘Your stories will be short.’

  ‘I know we have a deal and I’m willing to work with you on this but I’m tired.’ She made a show of rubbing her ankles where the buckles dug in. They hurt, but not as much as her brain.

  ‘We go but we return tomorrow. And you will get real shoes.’ He nodded at her feet. ‘Pretty but not practical. You need the right tools, yes?’

  * * *

  As soon as she slipped on the violet shoes, she fell in love. The soft leather straps caressed her feet and even though the heels were high, the cushioned soles gave the impression of walking on clouds. They were almost as comfy as her runners. How could that be so?

  ‘Wow,’ she said, looking up and smiling at Carlos, who had crossed arms.

  ‘I tell you they are no more practical than those things you had on last night.’ He nodded towards the red shoes abandoned on the floor of the dance gear shop.

  ‘But these ones are comfortable, I promise!’

  He grabbed a pair of closed-in, low-heeled, poo-brown shoes. She screwed up her nose then stopped, worried he’d think her ungrateful.

  ‘This is what you should wear, Daniela. They are not pretty but they work. They have more structure. Those purple ones are made for the professionals. These,’ he thrust the ugly shoes at her, ‘are perfect for beginners. Unfortunately, they only come in left and right.’

  Dani laughed even though she didn’t agree with Carlos’s philosophy. Dressing like a professional, whether it was for journalism or dance, definitely made a difference in her mind. If she looked the part she had a better chance of succeeding. Unfortunately, Carlos had other ideas.

  She turned her feet from side to side, admiring the violet contrast against her pale skin. The shoes were a work of art. She stifled a sigh.

  ‘Fine. I’ll take the brown ones, but mark my words, one day I’m going to return to this shop and buy these shoes.’ She punctuated this with a firm nod. ‘And I’ll be a good enough dancer to do them justice.’

  Dani caught Carlos’s lips twitching. Laughter shone in his eyes. She squeezed her own lips together, trying to suppress the belly laugh threatening to tumble onto the shop floor.

  Straightening his back, Carlos said, ‘I hope the store does not go out of business before then.’

  CHAPTER

  6

  1953 – Louisa

  From the mansion’s third floor, Louisa peered at the masses swarming along the tree-lined avenue. People bashed metal ladles and wooden spoons against pots while traffic came to a standstill. The protestors raised their voices in disapproval of Juan Perón allowing the Eva Perón Foundation for the poor to start crumbling after the passing of his wife. Burning piles of rubbish cast an eerie orange glow along the sidewalk as acrid smoke curled above the people’s heads. A shot rang in the distance, causing Louisa to jump.

  ‘Stay away from the windows, you’ll get hurt.’

  She spun around to find Eduardo in the living room doorway, his sturdy build taking up most of the doorframe.

  ‘The people are growing more restless. What will happen, do you think?’ Her gaze returned to the crowd below, their chants growing louder as more people joined the throng.

  ‘Perón must figure it out soon. Those people you feel sorry for are the ones who attacked and burned the Jockey Club and the National Democratic Party headquarters.’

  ‘They did it because Perón called for a violent response to the explosion that ripped through Plaza de Mayo.’ Louisa detested political discussions with Eduardo because of their opposing views, but he insisted on dragging her into them, perhaps in the hope that one day she would finally agree with him.

  ‘They did it because they are thugs. What is this country coming to when police and firemen refuse to attend calls of help from the affluent?’

  ‘It’s a strong way of showing the rich they will not be bullied any more. I’m not saying it was right—’

  ‘It couldn’t have been more wrong,’ Eduardo said.

  ‘The people are tired. They’re hungry. You were poor and struggling once. And me.’

  ‘We have a different life now, Louisa. I didn’t spend all this time earning money to give it away to commoners.’ He strode over to the brocade armchair and sat.

  ‘But—’

  ‘It is time.’ He gave a curt nod.

  ‘For what?’ A hollow feeling grew in her stomach.

  ‘We go to America next week.’

  He’d mentioned it many times before but she’d put it down to rambling. This time, though, his stony expression and the conviction in his voice told her he was serious. Her wobbly legs threatened to buckle and she sat heavily on the sofa. ‘Shouldn’t we wait to see what happens here?’

  He gestured towards the street. ‘You’ve seen the people. The future is already decided. If we don’t leave now we could lose everything.’

  ‘I don’t think going to America is a good idea. You know Buenos Aires. You’re familiar with the cafés, bars, concert halls. America is a new country, a place where you’ll have to speak English all the time. I don’t think it is in your best interests to go.’

  ‘I will not let this disease rule me.’ He straightened his back.

  ‘The doctors could maybe slow it down—’

  ‘Enough!’ He glowered at her. ‘We are going. The decision has been made.’

  She willed her voice to remain calm
and soft, the perfect way to temper his mood. ‘Is it because you made a promise to Carlos Gardel?’

  ‘Yes, of course it is. It may have taken nearly twenty years to honour my promise, and I am not about to give up my only chance to follow in his footsteps and show the world not all tango dancers and singers are like that revolting Rudolph Valentino.’

  ‘I admire your loyalty, Eduardo, but America isn’t the same as when you made the promise to Carlos Gardel and—’

  ‘I am not a man who goes back on his word. We go next week.’

  A lump of fear grew in the back of her throat. ‘So it’s the three of us travelling?’

  Eduardo shook his head and a stray lock fell across his forehead. Ignoring it, he said, ‘Are you talking about Roberto? No. He will stay here.’

  ‘Why?’ Her eyes burned from holding back the tears.

  ‘Because it is time he made his own career.’

  ‘But he hasn’t performed live since you started mentoring him.’

  ‘He will perform after we leave. He is ready. I need him to manage my affairs here.’

  First Eduardo wouldn’t let Roberto play in public, now he was being handed the concert circuit on a plate, minus his mentor’s presence. Perhaps the disease had taken a bigger toll on Eduardo than she’d thought. His logic didn’t make sense but the angry determination in his eyes told her to leave the subject alone until he calmed.

  Eduardo turned, strode up the hallway and slammed the door to the music room. Louisa went to the window, pulled back the drapes and pushed up the sill. A cool breeze grazed her skin as she stared at the crowd below. These people wanted a better life for themselves. She’d experienced hunger and the daily struggle to remain healthy despite fatal diseases regularly sweeping through the slums. She understood the protestors’ desire to have a soft, warm bed, fresh food, and a pair of shoes that didn’t leak. She closed the window again as thick smoke wafted up from the fires on the street. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she searched desperately for a way to smooth talk Eduardo out of his plans. Although, with Eduardo dangling a carrot in front of his protégé, it would be hard for Roberto to refuse, no matter how much he and Louisa wanted to be together.

  ‘Louisa!’ Eduardo boomed from two rooms away.

  ‘Yes?’ She tried to sound cheerful but her voice cracked.

  ‘My sheet music! Where is it?’ He appeared in the doorway, his body shaking and eyes bulging as his gaze darted up and down the hallway. ‘I can’t find it. Someone’s stolen it! Who would dare steal my work?’

  ‘No one’s stolen it, Eduardo,’ she said calmly, placing her hand on his arm. ‘We’ll find it. Look into my eyes and take a deep breath.’ She breathed in and looked deeply into his eyes. ‘Breath in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.’ Louisa repeated this a few times and within moments, his ragged breathing slowed to a regular rate. She studied his salt-and-pepper hair and the lifelines etched on his face. Eduardo looked like a younger version of her grandfather when he was diagnosed with dementia. Nostalgia washed over her, and she wished for another chance to see her grandfather alive one more time when he was lucid. She’d tell him how much she loved him and how she’d never wanted him locked away.

  ‘Last time I saw it was ...’ She entered the music room and walked over to the window seat. Lifting a pile of English-language magazines, she grabbed the sheet music and triumphantly handed over the pages. ‘Here.’

  ‘Thank you, Louisa.’ He hung his head and gut-wrenching sobs echoed through the room. Rubbing his back, she made hushing noises, her heart breaking as she witnessed this talented man losing confidence.

  ‘What would I do without you?’ He looked up, his eyes full of tears. ‘You know me better than anyone. I saved you from poverty but you’ve saved my reputation and sanity many times over. I’m aware my behaviour makes your life difficult but the anger’s like a speeding train and it’s impossible to stop at times. Please.’ He grabbed her hand so hard she let out a small cry. ‘Don’t ever leave me. Promise you’ll never go. I’d never survive without you.’

  As much as she wanted to promise she’d stay, she couldn’t offer her word. Confusion reigned and she closed her eyes, wishing for an easy solution. Whichever way she turned, either Roberto or Eduardo would be deeply hurt.

  ‘Don’t say anything.’ He held up his hand, fear etched in the deep creases on his face. She leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek then headed for the door.

  ‘Louisa?’

  She turned to face him. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I know you can never love me in the way I want, and I appreciate you sticking by this crusty old fool and feeding the muse. You are an angel walking among us.’

  She gave him a small smile and went upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her. Flopping on the bed, she took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, watching the fading daylight catch the crystals on the chandelier, casting a kaleidoscope of colours on the wall. A wave of pity swept over her. All Eduardo ever wanted was time to create the music that brought joy to many and a chance to honour a promise he’d made to his own mentor. Eduardo needed her help to get him through the rough stages of the disease, to calm him when fear paralysed him, and to support him when he felt all was lost. After everything he’d done for her, she couldn’t deprive him of his wishes. She didn’t want another man to suffer like her grandfather because someone couldn’t be bothered to help. Eduardo was right. The decision had been made.

  * * *

  The door clicked quietly behind Louisa as she stepped into the cool evening. Hurrying down the dark street, she crossed the deserted road and ducked into the shadows of the park. She didn’t need light to guide her through the twists and turns to arrive at their bench seat. She sat and waited. The cold metal bit through her winter jacket and froze the backs of her legs and buttocks. It hardly mattered—since Eduardo had delivered the news of their imminent departure, a deep chill had settled on her soul. Pulling the jacket closer to her body, she stared into the darkness as the minutes dragged on.

  Stones crunching beneath solid boots drew her attention to the park’s entrance. Roberto stood for a moment, as if allowing his eyes to adjust to the blackness. His slow, deliberate steps left her desperate with anticipation for his strong arms to wrap around and cocoon her from the world once again.

  He drew close and held out his hand and she took it, his warm fingers entwining with hers. Louisa stood, looked into his eyes and dissolved into tears, burying her head in his woollen jacket. Roberto gently stroked her hair, his fingers occasionally catching a curl.

  ‘My love, we will find a way.’

  She pulled back, hot tears obscuring her vision. ‘How? He’s already made up his mind.’

  ‘I know.’ Roberto gestured towards the bench. They sat and she snuggled into him, breathing in his familiar sandalwood scent.

  ‘What do you want to happen?’ The words came out before she’d realised the implications of hearing an answer she didn’t want.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Eduardo’s told you about looking after his affairs, right? And how he’ll let you perform once he leaves.’

  ‘Yes. He says my performing is like a legacy he is leaving for the Argentines while he is away.’ Roberto puffed out his chest.

  ‘So you’re his replacement.’

  ‘No one could ever fully replace Eduardo, but yes, in a way I am.’ His tone held excitement.

  ‘You’ll get to live your dream and make a name for yourself.’ Louisa looked into his eyes. ‘You deserve this.’

  ‘I’ve worked hard, yes, but it means nothing if I can’t share it with you.’

  ‘But he needs me and I have to help.’ She desperately wanted to elaborate but she’d given her word to Eduardo.

  ‘I need you, too, but ...’ Roberto paused as if searching for the right words.

  ‘It’s your dream.’

  ‘It’s our future.’ He trailed his fingers down her face and around to the nape of her neck.
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  She stared at her turquoise heels. ‘I have no idea how I’ll get through my days without you.’

  ‘So stay with me.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You’re not his possession, Louisa.’ Roberto shifted away and a shot of cold air slapped her side.

  ‘I’m his muse,’ she said, scrambling. ‘He can’t perform without me.’

  ‘He’s using guilt to make you stay with him.’

  She’d spent many nights contemplating that thought but she always came to the same conclusion: Eduardo had never used guilt to get what he wanted.

  ‘Roberto, I love this country. Argentina adopted me when I had no home and no family and she took me in her arms and embraced me like I was her own child. By being Eduardo’s muse I can return some of what I owe the Argentine people.’

  Roberto frowned for a moment and scratched his head. ‘You are too loyal. I’ve seen the way he treats you.’

  ‘He has his reasons.’

  ‘No reason is good enough to behave the way he does with you.’ His tone turned steely and his body tensed. ‘Call me selfish, but I want you with me. Let’s leave for Brazil like we’ve dreamed about. Let’s do it.’

  ‘Roberto, I want to. Believe me, I want to with my whole heart, but it’s not possible.’

  ‘Maybe you don’t want me and you’re using him as an excuse.’ He crossed his arms and stared into the dark corner of the park.

  ‘Roberto.’ Louisa placed her hand on his arm. ‘This is not true.’

  ‘Leave him.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Something’s wrong with him,’ Roberto blurted.

  She sucked in the cold air and it pained the back of her throat. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘His temper is getting worse and he’s more forgetful. The other day he gave me some music and told me I was ready for it, yet he’d given me the same piece two weeks before.’

  ‘Eduardo’s been under stress lately—’

  ‘There you go defending him again.’ He pulled further away, the gap between them now a wide valley.