by Val
This did sound like a joke, and I was afraid Carolina would not take me seriously.
Then all at once I felt very sick. Everything started spinning round, and I thought I was going to faint. I had to hang up and lie down for a while.
An hour later, I felt a lot better. I called Carolina again.
‘I’m sorry. I suddenly felt faint and had to hang up. I apologize for inflicting myself on you like this. I’m not trying to claim Jaime is mine, but he’s been so odd lately, I wanted to know what was wrong. Now I understand. I’m really sorry.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said in a friendly way. ‘Jaime is someone who’s always had lots of problems. But I really didn’t think he would do anything like this.’
Again, I was amazed at how calm she was at the far end of the line. She went on, ‘Jaime and I are only together at weekends, because his business is in Barcelona. I had no idea he was living with somebody else.’
I gave her my number, and we said goodbye. She begged me not to say anything to Jaime, but we decided to get our own ‘revenge’ by arranging a meeting of all three of us without him knowing. Carolina told me Jaime intended to spend Valentine’s Day in Madrid (how could he do that to me?) and if I agreed, I could go and see for myself what he has always kept hidden from me.
I have to admit that Carolina was always very correct with me. We did not fight, and she did not blame me for anything. In the end, we’re in the same boat. The only person to blame for this situation is Jaime: we are nothing more than two innocent victims, madly in love with the same man. It was a struggle, but I managed to keep my discovery a secret until the date I had arranged to go and meet Carolina.
Meanwhile, I was feeling increasingly nauseous every morning, and I began to fear the worst.
The Contract
8th January 1999
JAIME IS TORTURING me more and more. Perhaps he can sense something. Tonight he had a business dinner with his partner and a possible client. He insisted I went too, and that I should make myself ‘sexy’.
‘For a business dinner?’
‘Yes, he’s a very special client and I need your help for once.’
‘What kind of help?’
‘I want you to be friendly, that’s all. Is that too much to ask?’
I could see he was getting angry again, so I agreed to go to the dinner to avoid an argument. On our way there, Jaime explained about the client.
‘I’ve been chasing him for ages, but he always slams the door shut in my face. But the fact that he’s having dinner with us means we have the chance of signing a contract.’
Jaime and Joaquin had agreed to meet up beforehand to settle what they should say, and how to direct the meal to convince the client he should sign the three-million-peseta contract with them.
The bar was a tiny, exclusive place, with an entrance like a ship’s gangway. Inside, a narrow staircase led to a small room with a huge teak bar that took up over half the space. There were a lot of people there already, so we did not have much room. I did not like the atmosphere and I suppose my unease showed, because Jaime several times asked me to smile.
Joaquin was already installed at one corner of the bar, deep in discussion with two heavily made-up young ladies. When they saw Jaime, the two of them greeted him as though they had known him all their lives. They looked me up and down scornfully and decided to ignore me completely, as if I did not even exist. I stayed behind Jaime, partly due to the lack of room, and partly because the two women intimidated me. I played no part in the conversation, but I could see the conniving way that Joaquin was glancing at Jaime. They seemed to be saying something to each other that only they could grasp. I could not understand Jaime’s attitude, especially after what he had told me about the way Joaquin had used him over the bank loan. That did not seem to have affected their friendship in the least.
I don’t like Joaquin. I have never warmed to him, not even the first day I saw him. He is tall, with completely white hair. He always wears brightly coloured ties and big brown plastic glasses like Onassis. Gruesome! You can smell his pipe from a mile away, whether he has it lit or not. Joaquin is a member of a rich bourgeois Catalan family that is on the way down. He lives on the outskirts of Barcelona in a beautiful mansion his wife owns. He has been out on the town for months now, and tonight he was flirting openly with the two women at the bar. Seeing my long face, all at once he turned towards me and declared, ‘You’re too young to understand certain things. You’ve still got a lot to learn.’
It wasn’t worth me protesting. But I started to feel a mounting anger towards Jaime, who did nothing to defend me or put Joaquin in his place.
After our drinks we set off for the restaurant, where their client was already waiting for us. Jaime drew me to one side and whispered, ‘Joaquin is already drunk, so we can’t let him talk too much over dinner. It’s up to you and me to deal with the client, right?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, I need your help. You’re more intelligent than you think, you’ll see.’
What on earth did he mean by that? The client was sitting smoking a cigarette at a table for four in a corner of the restaurant. We said hello, and Jaime presented me as an office associate. I did not say anything, because I imagined this must be part of a strategy of his for keeping his business affairs and his private life separate. Jaime pressed me to take a seat next to the client.
There was lots of lively debate over dinner, but I hardly dared open my mouth. The client, a small, slimy character, did not stop drinking or staring at my legs. I began to feel offended, because I could see Jaime had noticed what was going on, and had done nothing to protect me. He has always been jealous, but now it was a question of a three-million-peseta contract, he did not say a word.
After dessert, the client started stroking my legs under the table, still talking animatedly to Jaime. I was petrified. I could see Joaquin was calmly lighting his pipe, oblivious to whatever was going on. I could not believe my eyes when I glanced at Jaime and he gave me little nods to show I should carry on. Instinctively, all my muscles stiffened, and when the client started to slide his hand up the inside of my thigh, I stood up and threw my napkin down onto the table. I could not control myself any longer, so I shouted at Jaime, ‘Am I only worth three million pesetas to you?’ The whole restaurant turned to look in my direction.
Jaime feigned surprise.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘This ape has got his hands all over me; aren’t you going to do anything about it?’
Jaime looked across at the client, who had dropped his hands by his sides.
‘Just behave!’ he said, leaving me completely deflated.
Joaquin sat puffing away at his pipe, a silly smile on his face.
‘What did you say?’ I roared.
‘I said, behave!’ Jaime ordered me. ‘You’re ruining everything!’
I did not know what hurt me more: their client’s pawing or Jaime’s attitude. I was so indignant I left the table, asked for my coat and ran out of the restaurant. So Jaime would have been happy to share me with a stranger. I felt like throwing up.
I cried all the way home. When Jaime came in at five in the morning as if nothing at all had happened, it was at last clear to me that he doesn’t love me and in fact never has.
Before he slipped into bed beside me, while I was pretending to be still asleep, he whispered, ‘You’re very young still. You have a lot to learn.’
His presence next to me revolted me. I’m not going to be able to put up with this much longer.
The Worst Is Yet To Come
9th January 1999
THE PHARMACY WAS crowded, so I sat on a chair next to the counter. My period was a week late, and even before I took the test I knew I was pregnant, although I tried hard to convince myself I couldn’t be. I can tell by the tiny heartbeats I feel down near my right ovary, and although Sonia protests and says it’s impossible to feel anything like that for several months, I know for sure there is so
mething growing inside me. I haven’t said anything to Jaime. I’m worried what his reaction might be, even though it was obvious it might happen because we haven’t taken any precautions for some time now. Also, one day he told me he would love to be a father again now that he feels mature, and that it would have to be now or never, otherwise he would feel like a grandfather rather than a father. Of course, I was right. The pregnancy test did not even take the time meant to be necessary to change colour. As soon as I dipped the indicator into my urine, it turned positive. I couldn’t be more pregnant.
I told Jaime tonight. He sat staring at me as if he had seen a ghost. I was ready for any reaction: joy or rage. What I had not expected was for him to say, ‘That’s impossible!’
‘Why is it impossible? Here’s the proof.’
I showed him the test, which I had put away in its aluminium case.
‘I’m telling you, it’s impossible!’ he repeated, without accepting what his eyes were seeing. His voice was so mocking I started to tremble. ‘I don’t doubt that you’re pregnant. What I doubt is that it’s mine.’
I only just stopped myself leaping at him. That was just the kind of reaction he must have been expecting. I sat very still and calm, though my heart was in my mouth.
‘How can you say that, Jaime? Ever since I’ve known you, you’re the only person I’ve slept with.’
‘I doubt that,’ he replied seriously. I could see he was getting angry.
‘How can you say such a thing?’
‘Quite simply, because I’m sterile.’
I have often had bad moments with Jaime. Sometimes I have hated him with all my being, or felt angry or powerless, but today I could feel the whole structure of our relationship come crashing down around me. This must all be some huge joke. I couldn’t find any other explanation. I ran to the bathroom to be sick and while I was bent over with my head in the toilet bowl, furiously trying to clear my mind, I heard Jaime’s voice behind me. He went on with his explanation, ‘I’ve been sterile for years. I was lucky enough to be able to have two children, but I’ll never have another one. So stop all this pretence, and admit you’ve slept with someone else!’
I did not know what to say. He had become a complete monster to me, and I did not want to talk to him.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t slept with your boss, and now you want me to take on the burden.’
Every word he said was like a punch to my chin. I was sick a second time.
‘Or maybe you’re making it with my partner. Ah, now I understand why Joaquin is always here these days! I shouldn’t have trusted you!’
I wanted to object, but I was so hurt all I could do was scream.
‘Now you’re getting hysterical. Just look at you! And don’t think I don’t know what you get up to when I’m in Madrid at the weekends!’
I could have told him I had spoken to Carolina and knew about his double game, but I found it impossible to say a word. Because I didn’t reply, he became even more angry and cruel.
‘Condemned by your silence! You disgust me!’
The words echoed round the apartment as he stormed out.
My Unhappy Valentine
14th February 1999
I HAD AN abortion. Silently, alone, although a baby is what I most long for in the world. The day I told Jaime I was pregnant and he stormed out, I found a psychiatric report among his papers, with questions he had answered. One of the replies said that what would make him happiest of all would be to spend the entire week with Carolina, but that she could not stand him any longer, and that he had fallen foul of his cocaine habit again. There were other replies that I prefer to forget because they were so cruel. Yet what he wrote about women caught my attention: he said he hated them all apart from his mother. The psychiatrist’s conclusion was that Jaime was in a schizophrenic state: a bipolar disorder brought on by the destruction of his brain cells caused by the cocaine habit. He recommended a stay in a specialized clinic for treatment.
I could not bear to bring a baby into a world so full of madness, with a crazy drug addict for a father. I was afraid all this might affect the child, and I was horrified at the thought I might have to go on having links with this raving madman, who was capable of harming both the baby and me.
The day before yesterday, Jaime rang. He threatened that if I did not have the abortion, he would ‘fuck up’ my life. I believe him. He would do anything so long as he came out of it all right.
Today I took the shuttle plane to Madrid to meet Carolina. I told her about the baby on the phone, and she was very upset, as Jaime had done the same to her. A few years ago. He isn’t sterile. He invented that nonsense in order to put off any woman who tried emotional blackmail on him in that way – not that I was doing that of course. All I want now is to get rid of this albatross around my neck, to get rid of my love for him, to start a new life. In order to do that, I need to exorcize him by talking to the person who knew him best, the woman with whom he shared his life.
Carolina suggested the two of us meet up in a bar. I was very nervous about seeing her for the first time. We recognized each other at once, instinctively: unhappiness in a face is unmistakable. For the first few minutes I felt very uncomfortable. Carolina is much older than I am, and is incredibly beautiful and gentle. In a way, I was flattered that Jaime should want to deceive her with me, but I soon dismissed such nonsense from my mind and focused again on the sad reality that he had been constantly manipulating me, and had never loved me.
Carolina and I needed a stiff drink in order to be able to tell each other all we know about Jaime. I began to describe how we had met, the problem that arose when his house was about to be seized, his father’s death, his nocturnal drinking and his sudden disappearing acts.
Carolina was listening very carefully to all this, her black eyes opening wide every time she could identify with something I was saying.
‘The only time I ever heard anything about you was when Jaime told me he had taken on a French girl at the office,’ she said when she realized I had finished.
‘I’ve never worked in his office. I didn’t want to.’
‘His father’s funeral never happened. He’s not dead, but lives in a shack with no electricity. Jaime is from a very poor family, and hasn’t spoken to his father in years. When I met Jaime, he tried that funeral trick on me too, until I discovered the truth. I’m sure he needed an excuse to go off for a few days with some girl or other, so he made up the whole dreadful lie. Jaime is a compulsive liar. Before Christmas, he and I were travelling in the Canary Islands. That’s why he invented the story about his father dying. I’m so sorry!’
Her words reverberated round the inside of my head.
‘And as for the chalet, it doesn’t belong to him. My husband bought it when we married. On his death, I inherited it. Jaime came to live with me there. But it belongs to me, and there was never any risk of a legal seizure. He was lying to you about that too.’
I could not believe anyone would stoop so low.
‘What about his children? He told me he spent every weekend here with his two children.’
‘His children don’t even want to see him. For months now they have only spoken to him when it’s absolutely necessary.’
‘So what were the five million pesetas I gave him for?’
Carolina’s expression told me she did not have the faintest idea.
‘I gave him five million to prevent his house being seized!’ I shouted.
‘It seems to me he just wanted to get money out of you.’
So as well as being a liar, Jaime is a cheat.
‘Jaime has always had money problems. He spends it like water. He lives the life of a lord. For years it was me who kept him, until I had enough of it. It’s been two years since I last helped him out. Since then he’s been getting lots of demands, from his associates, from all kinds of people. I don’t want to know. I imagine he was looking for someone else to wheedle money from. The same thing happened wit
h his wife. In the end she grew tired of it, and threw him out. Now she wants to live in peace and quiet and have nothing to do with the scoundrel. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it’s all I can say.’
‘His ex-wife is very ill, isn’t she?’
‘Not at all. Carmen is in perfect health. So he told you too she had cancer, did he? Not a bit of it. She’s fine; the only thing she wants is to wipe out all the years she spent with that gentleman. I’m trying to do the same, but I’m still very much in love with him and can’t.’
I wanted to die on the spot. I’m a woman who has been betrayed, deceived, ruined, and destroyed both physically and mentally. And I was with a woman who had suffered the same, but seemed to have forgiven her lover almost all her humiliation. Carolina told me she had agreed to meet Jaime in the bar opposite, and that she had to go because he might turn up at any moment. Just then, my mobile rang. It was Jaime.
‘Even though I’m not with you, I was ringing to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day,’ he said.
How could anyone be so cynical? I had to force myself not to reveal where I was.
‘Where are you?’ I asked in a strangled voice.
‘I’m spending the weekend with my mother, in Barcelona.’
I didn’t say where I was. He had no idea I might be in Madrid with Carolina. When we had said goodbye, Carolina commented, ‘You see what a liar he is? He’s on his way to the bar.’
This time it was her mobile that rang. Surprised, she glanced at me; then we both realized it must be Jaime.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you in ten minutes.’
She switched off. Jaime had just told her he was coming out of the metro, on his way to meeting her. We exchanged looks again, unable to believe anyone could be so two-faced.
I don’t know how I found the strength to turn up at the bar twenty minutes later. I was split between the wish either to run away, or to stay and explain to him I had discovered what kind of a person he really was. I am still in love with him, but I wanted to teach him a lesson for all that he has done not only to me, but to Carolina as well.
