Luna Tango

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘This is not the original theatre. The first Teatro Colón overlooked the Plaza de Mayo until the opera became popular, then they had to build a bigger theatre. The acoustics in this theatre are considered among the best in the world. Personally, I think it is the best.’

  She had to hand it to the Argentines, they knew how to believe in their countrymen and achievements, especially when it came to culture.

  ‘Very impressive.’ She opened her eyes and smiled. It was nice to have Carlos impart information without a single question or flubbed dance step in sight.

  ‘We go here.’ Carlos pointed to the plush red carpet leading up the wide marble steps. He took her hand like it was the most natural thing. They climbed the stairs and goose bumps broke out on her arms despite the day’s warmth. When they reached the landing, she expected him to break his hold but he didn’t. Heat raced up her neck and she prayed her hands wouldn’t get clammy. His every movement vibrated through her hand and she loved his skin touching hers. Oh, Dani McKenna, what are you doing?

  They crossed the landing and arrived at the doors leading to the theatre proper. Carlos gently let go of her hand.

  ‘Close your eyes, Daniela.’

  She did so without question and the door creaked open. Although she didn’t peek, she could sense the expanse before her.

  ‘Take four steps forwards. Do not worry, you will not step on anything.’

  A nervous laugh escaped her dry lips. ‘Not even your foot?’

  ‘Not even my foot. Come.’

  Strong fingers wrapped around her elbow and guided her forwards. The scent of leather, musk, women’s perfume and candle wax filled her nostrils. Her skin tingled with the electricity of audiences past buzzing from anticipation prior to a performance. And ghosts. A shiver ran up her spine as she thought about all the people, alive and dead, who had performed and watched concerts in this theatre. Even though she fought it, images of her mother twirling on the stage appeared before her. Tears burned her eyes and she willed them away.

  ‘You can open your eyes.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I just—’

  ‘You will miss seeing one of the most beautiful theatres in the world. I am what you might call ...’ He paused for so long she thought she could hear his brain ticking over. ‘One sided.’

  ‘Biased.’

  ‘Yes, true. I am biased on many things, including this theatre. Please open your eyes and enjoy the beauty.’ She sensed him step away.

  Dani peeled one eye open, then the other. Dim lights suspended from ornate ceiling roses painted in gold shone on beautifully restored red velvet seats. Layers of balconies decorated with exquisite carvings formed a semicircle around the theatre. Thick red velvet curtains hung across doors and at the rear of the balconies and the soft light cast a haunting glow across the centuries-old theatre.

  ‘It is wonderful, no?’ He turned and frowned, using his thumb to gently wipe away her trickle of tears. ‘I did not think it would have this effect on you. It is nice to spend time with someone who can appreciate beauty and magic.’

  Carlos moved his hand away and a lump caught in her throat. The poor guy thought the theatre’s beauty had affected her, yet she shed tears because of the hollowness in her soul. As mad as she was at Iris, Dani couldn’t ignore the pangs of loss she had fought so hard to quash.

  Sniffing, Dani smiled and said, ‘It truly is a special place.’

  Carlos nodded and crooked a finger for her to follow. They sat in the front row, gazing at the stage surrounded by gold carvings and heavy velvet curtains.

  ‘You played here as a kid?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you understand the magnificence of this place or was it lost on you?’

  ‘Hmm ... these appear to be questions.’

  ‘Are you ever going to let up on this? I’m trying to learn how to dance, okay?’

  ‘You are doing well for someone with two left feet.’

  She punched him in the arm playfully and he feigned injury. His face contorted with agony and he collapsed on her lap, looking up at her with big, brown eyes. ‘My arm, it is damaged. You are very cruel.’

  Holy crap. She wanted to avert her eyes for fear they’d betray the coils of passion spreading throughout her body. Overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him, Dani forced herself to study the balcony off to the side but barely took in the details. She prayed the reaction to his nearness would dissipate magically.

  It didn’t.

  Carlos reached behind her neck and his warm fingers gently stroked the nape. She turned and found his face inches from hers. They locked eyes and ghosts of past romantic performances surrounded them. Her short breaths drew out to match his smooth, rhythmic breathing and they leant into each other, heat sandwiched between their bodies.

  The moment their lips touched, Dani’s brain short-circuited. Any promise to stick to ethics and not get involved with her subject blew away into thin air. They pressed against each other while her body grew lighter, as if all gravity had disappeared.

  Carlos’s hand ran through her hair as their tongues explored new territory and his sweet lips overpowered her. Giving into the ecstasy, Dani wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, the intense kisses growing as each second passed.

  A door slammed and a voice boomed out from the rear of the theatre. ‘Ah! You are here!’

  CHAPTER

  15

  1953 – Louisa

  ‘Disgusting.’ Eduardo glared at Louisa and Roberto for what felt like an eternity.

  Louisa pulled away from Roberto. ‘How did you—’

  ‘Find out about you two?’ A laugh laced with sarcasm left Eduardo’s lips and echoed down the empty street. ‘Wyler.’

  ‘Oh.’

  The cold mist thickened and the flickering streetlights cast an eerie glow. A pack of drunkards wandered out from the bar and the heavy door slammed behind them. They stood on the kerb, drinks in hand, amusement plastered on their dirty faces at the scene unfolding before them. Denying romantic involvement with Roberto was futile.

  ‘Tell me how long this has been going on and what your plans are.’

  ‘I ...’ Louisa said. ‘I... I mean, we ... uh—’

  ‘You two make me sick, going behind my back.’ He spat out the words and clenched his fists by his side. Hurt welled in his glassy eyes.

  ‘Eduardo ...’ She used the tone that had always soothed his temper when it flared.

  ‘How could you do this to me? I am your lover, not him.’ Eduardo’s booming voice echoed off the buildings in the street.

  She gasped then looked to Roberto, who froze. ‘What? It’s not true!’

  ‘Ah, dear Louisa, please do not lie. Tell him the truth. Tell him I am your lover.’

  Anger mixed with threat shone in Eduardo’s eyes and she hesitated. If she didn’t go along with Eduardo, he’d cause a scene in public and destroy the hard work they’d done hiding his illness. But she couldn’t let him say these things and lead Roberto to believe it was true.

  ‘I—’

  ‘How dare you say that about Louisa!’ Roberto set his jaw hard. ‘You don’t know her like I do.’

  ‘And the half-moon birthmark? How would I know this if I hadn’t—’ Eduardo didn’t have time to finish the sentence before Roberto’s fist connected with Eduardo’s eye.

  Bones crunched against each other as arms flailed wildly. Louisa’s stomach turned and she held onto the wall, feeling bile rise in her throat. The two men tussled, spinning in a circle with their arms wrapped around each other’s heads.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she screamed. The drunkards on the corner cheered and clapped. ‘Stop them!’ she yelled at the men, who ignored her.

  Roberto grunted as he tried to control Eduardo, who seemed to have gained the strength of six men. His recent claims of a frail body were tossed in the gutter, along with her dreams. She took a deep breath and jumped on the men. Her legs dan
gled and she grabbed at their faces, digging in her nails. She hoped the pain might at least bring one—or both—of them to their senses.

  ‘Argh!’ Eduardo’s hands flew to his face and Louisa held on for dear life as Roberto fell away. Eduardo’s muscles tensed and she held on tightly while he spun around and backed into the wall. Cold bricks slammed against her spine. Air flew from her lungs and she slumped to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

  ‘Animal!’ Roberto lunged forwards and rammed his forearm against Eduardo’s throat, pinning him against the wall. Through gritted teeth, Roberto said, ‘Louisa’s put up with enough. You deserve to rot in hell.’

  Roberto kept Eduardo pinned while he used one hand to rummage through his mentor’s pockets. He found what he was looking for and triumphantly pulled out the papers.

  ‘Let him go, Roberto.’ Louisa’s breath came in shallow, painful bursts. ‘Let him be.’

  Roberto removed his arm and Eduardo stumbled forwards but didn’t lose balance. He rubbed his collarbone gingerly.

  ‘You’re smarter than I thought,’ said Eduardo.

  Bending down, Roberto opened the bandoneón case and went to place the pages in it.

  ‘You do not get Louisa and the music,’ said Eduardo. He leapt forwards, lifted his arms high and crashed his fists down on Roberto, who fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Papers flew through the air and Eduardo lunged for them, scooping them in his arms before grabbing the bandoneón case and taking off down the street. He disappeared into the mist, the soles of his shoes battering against the cobblestones.

  Louisa fell to her knees, the cold ground biting into her skin. A small breeze lifted the remaining sheet of paper and blew it against her hand. Grabbing it without thinking, she shoved it in her pocket before she rested her cold fingers on the prone body beside her. ‘Roberto ...’

  She rolled him to one side and tore pieces from her silk shirt, crumpling them into balls and pressing them against the blood flowing out of the wound in his head. Tears streamed down her face as she manoeuvred him so his head rested in her lap.

  ‘Wake up, please, wake up.’

  A couple of the drunks staggered over to where she sat, the pungent alcohol fumes mingled with the metallic scent of fresh blood.

  ‘He needs a doctor!’ she pleaded.

  The short one looked at Roberto and said, ‘He’s a goner.’

  The tall one scowled at his companion and issued Louisa a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t you worry, missus. We’ll help ya. Claudio!’ he yelled at a young boy hanging near the entrance to the bar. ‘Get Doctor Alvarez!’

  The boy took off at a cracking pace and Louisa turned her attention to Roberto, who moaned and lolled his head from side to side.

  ‘Stay still, mi amor. We’re getting help.’ She put more pressure on the wounds and used her other hand to stroke his cheek.

  ‘It will be fine. We’ll all be fine.’ Her words came easily but she didn’t believe them for a moment.

  * * *

  Roberto had refused to go to the hospital and had only allowed the retired doctor to bandage his head. Some of the drunks had helped load Roberto into a taxi and, by the time he and Louisa arrived at his apartment, he could barely talk. She’d set him up with an ice pack and waited for him to fall asleep before sneaking out.

  Guilt trailed her as she hurried along the street to the house she’d shared with Eduardo. It had been a few hours since the incident in San Telmo, and hopefully it was enough time for Eduardo to have calmed down enough for her to talk with him. As horrendous as his actions were, she understood his reasons, or in this case, his lack of reason.

  She didn’t hold out much hope for negotiating the return of the bandoneón and the music but she had to try. Roberto could rewrite the music, or at least try to, but to buy a new bandoneón would cost a fortune. Somehow, Louisa had to find a way to convince Eduardo to give up the bandoneón before he destroyed the instrument or gave it away.

  Even though she had accumulated many possessions during her time with Eduardo, the only ones she wanted to retrieve were the letters from Roberto and the tarnished silver frame that contained the photo of Louisa with her parents, taken just before she lost them in the London bombings. The photographer had captured the trio laughing with light dancing in their eyes, arms wrapped around each other. Although the image was burned in her memory, she longed to hold on to it. Somehow, touching the picture brought her closer to the parents she missed every day.

  She halted out the front of the house and took in the intricately carved stonework around the windows and veranda columns. A dim light shone through a crack between the velvet curtains in the music room, and her heart beat hard against her chest. Climbing the steps leading to the double front doors, she wrapped her fingers around the handle, then hesitated. Despite his terrible outburst, she did worry for Eduardo. He wasn’t well enough to go to America and cope in an unfamiliar setting with a language he barely knew. Eduardo needed a bilingual person by his side, and up until a short while ago, the only person he’d trusted was Louisa. She wanted to help him, but after tonight’s events, her resolve to stand by him no matter what had wavered. Perhaps her father had been wrong; maybe situations changed in ways that made it impossible to keep one’s word. She couldn’t stay with Eduardo any more. She would help him, yes, but now he knew her secret, he’d be prone to further outbursts, and after tonight’s violence, she worried for her safety. However, she did owe him an explanation.

  Tentatively, Louisa pushed the handle down, opened the door, and entered the foyer.

  ‘Hello?’

  Nothing.

  ‘Eduardo?’

  No answer.

  She methodically went from room to room, flicking on lights, but Eduardo, the sheet music and the bandoneón couldn’t be found. Dashing up the stairs to her bedroom, she retrieved the framed photo and stuffed it in a large handbag. Opening her underwear drawer, she grabbed the map of Chapada do Russo and Roberto’s love letters. She unfolded one and smiled at his beautiful penmanship and the words ‘Querida Lunita’. Dear Little Moon. Shaking herself out of the happy haze, she shoved them into her handbag. If Eduardo found these papers it would only add fuel to the fire; she didn’t want to hurt him any more than she already had.

  She sat on the springy bed, casting her eyes around the room that had once been hers. The four-poster bed with purple silk draped over its mahogany pillars; the dark red reading chair where she’d spent countless hours; the wardrobe full of designer clothes and shoes—all of them only possessions and scattered memories.

  A wave of déjà vu crashed over her. Once again she had to leave home and head into an uncertain future. At least this time, she had a man she loved by her side. It wasn’t what they’d envisioned, but sometimes life steered people in directions they could never have imagined. With little money, no instrument and no careers, they were destined to struggle in the slums of Buenos Aires and they were about to test their love in the way they’d been trying to avoid. She still feared it was not enough to nourish their souls.

  Sticking her hand in her pocket, she pulled out the paper that had blown against her leg in the alley. Carefully unfolding the crumpled sheet music, she laid it out on the bed and smoothed it with her hands. The musical score was a tad worse for wear but she could still read Roberto’s distinctive writing—‘Luna Tango’. Not that she’d doubted Roberto, but the evidence was clear—Eduardo had most definitely stolen from her lover. Her vision clouded as determination took over. Roberto needed—no, deserved—all his music back and somehow she would find a way.

  A loud rap on the front door brought her back to the present. The banging intensified and she hurried down the stairs, crossed the foyer and flung open the door to find two policemen standing on the veranda, their faces solemn.

  ‘Miss Louisa Gilchrist?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her throat clamped around the word.

  ‘We are sorry to inform you but Eduardo Canziani has been found dead,’ the older
policeman said, his tone solemn.

  ‘What?’ She clung to the doorframe.

  ‘Found in an alley in La Boca,’ said the younger policeman, with too much enthusiasm. ‘Beaten to a pulp and shot with his own gun.’

  Her knees buckled and she landed heavily on the tiles. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed, trying to keep it down. ‘It can’t be.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is, Miss.’ The young policeman helped her up and led her to the hardwood seat in the hallway.

  ‘Robbery?’ she asked.

  ‘This is what we’re trying to establish. Did he have anything of value in his possession?’

  ‘Just his fob watch and gold rings. He never listened to me when I told him not to flaunt his wealth.’ She paused, letting her thoughts settle. ‘Did he have a bandoneón case on him?’

  ‘No. Should he?’

  ‘He—’ Oh god. Could Roberto somehow ...? She shook her head at the thought. ‘No.’

  That was the first in a long string of lies.

  * * *

  Louisa had managed to get through the police interview without any trouble but it wouldn’t take them long to piece the events together. Her relationship with Roberto still remained a secret and the lies she told the police had flowed like a swollen river after a storm. It concerned her that in an effort to protect Roberto from appearing guilty, she might inhibit the investigation and the murderer would remain free.

  A sob caught in her throat as she wandered through the dark rooms of the mansion. She longed to see her lover, to hold him and seek solace in his arms, but she had to stay away from him in case the police put a tail on her. When Wyler heard about Eduardo’s death he’d go to the police and inform them about her relationship with Roberto. She wished Roberto had a damn telephone so she could find out if he was all right.

  Once the media learned about the romance between the muse and the protégé, Louisa and Roberto would be in the headlines. It wouldn’t matter how much she protested, no one would believe she hadn’t had a sexual relationship with Eduardo, and so her being with Roberto would be classed as an A-grade affair. The public had grown bored with the political arguments in the daily news, and Eduardo’s death and his involvement in a love triangle would be the perfect outlet to channel their anger and grief for their country.