A Spanish Inheritance

by Susan Stephens

  Suddenly she felt sick and uncertain. He sounded sincere. A host of doubts battered her mind. But still she made a dismissive sound. ‘Surely it came as a pleasant surprise for you.’

  ‘What does this mean, Annalisa?’ Ramon demanded, staring deep into her eyes as if trying to root out her deepest thoughts.

  ‘What does it mean?’ She could feel her face heating up and she couldn’t stop now. ‘Surely that’s obvious?’

  A cold anger was brewing in his eyes. ‘Well, not to me,’ he grated.

  She squared her shoulders. She had to force closure. End it now. ‘It means that I have had enough of Menorca. I am going back home.’

  ‘This is your home!’ Ramon exploded.

  ‘No,’ Annalisa argued, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘This was my home. For a few foolish, misguided weeks.’

  Ramon shook his head slowly with an obvious lack of comprehension. ‘You were doing so well—’

  ‘Oh, thank you.’ Tolerating the fact that you’re a married man, do you mean? she wondered, frantically fighting to put her thoughts into words. ‘Considering all the obstacles you put in my path—’

  ‘Obstacles?’ Ramon exclaimed incredulously, swiping a hand over the back of his neck. ‘What the hell are you talking about. If you want obstacles, I’ll—’

  ‘Fortunately I won’t be staying long enough,’ Annalisa cut in coldly.

  ‘Fortunate indeed,’ he agreed.

  They stood facing each other tensely until Ramon broke the angry silence. ‘So why didn’t you sell the place as soon as you arrived on the island?’

  ‘Because I really thought I could make a go of it,’ she flared. ‘And I would have done if you hadn’t stooped to using tactics—’

  ‘I stooped? I’m not going to allow you to get away with that, Annalisa.’

  ‘OK,’ she said holding up her hands. ‘So let’s go through the facts one by one: you carry out building works at the finca without my consent, knowing that I have no money to pay you back, you insist that I accept clothes, from Margarita and from yourself, knowing that I have no money to pay you back, you employ a vandal called Enrique to chop down my orange groves, the only possible source of income I might ever have to pay you back—’

  ‘I do what?’

  ‘Don’t come the innocent with me, Ramon.’

  His face radiated anger, but his voice was tightly controlled. ‘I’m sorry. I was under the misapprehension that I was helping you.’

  Her stomach clenched as she hardened her eyes. ‘I’d like you to leave.’

  ‘Perhaps I should.’

  His fury was like a coiled spring. It showed in every tendon, every muscle; Annalisa had never seen anything like it and backed away from him instinctively as he made for the door.

  ‘I’ll make you a fair offer for the finca,’ he flung back over his shoulder.

  In spite of everything that had happened between them, she believed him.

  When Ramon had gone, Annalisa felt completely numb. It was a long time before she was ready to make the phone calls necessary if she was to find someone to take care of all the animals until the finca was sold.

  The best news of all came when Maria Teresa agreed to taking on the responsibility of Fudge’s proposed transfer to England. ‘You might be an ugly mutt,’ Annalisa told him fondly when he came to lie across her feet, ‘but everyone loves you.’

  When all the loose ends were tied up she devoted the rest of the afternoon to packing up her few belongings. There were still a couple of days to go before she left the island, and when she left she would give everything Ramon had ever given to her back to him. She folded the beautiful clothes carefully with tissue paper, and then put them into some decent carrier bags. She would ask the taxi driver to deliver them after he dropped her at the airport.

  Her last few hours on the island flew by at breakneck speed, and before she knew where she was Annalisa found herself dragging the last of her suitcases up to the front door.

  Fudge would soon be living with Maria Teresa. She would drop him off on the way to the airport. She sighed as she looked down at him. Was she doing the right thing? Would he take to suburban life? No beaches…no sea to play in… She turned as she heard a car draw up and took down his lead from the door.

  ‘It’s only the taxi, Fudge,’ she said, wondering why he didn’t leap around as he normally did when a walk was in prospect. But instead of being wildly excited, the old dog was poised stiffly by the door with his nose rammed into a small gap at the base. ‘Come on,’ she murmured as she tried to ease him away. But, having set up a rumbling persistent growl, Fudge refused to budge.

  Opening the door carefully, so he was forced to back away, Annalisa stiffened too as every antagonistic bone in her body went on full alert.

  ‘You don’t know me, but—’ a woman’s voice spoke.

  But I do know you, Annalisa thought, hiding her shock as she surveyed her father’s widow.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m about to leave—’ she started. Instinctively she glanced down the lane. There was still no sign of her transport. Curiosity and outright antipathy did battle in her mind until curiosity won. ‘But my taxi’s not here yet. Won’t you come in?’

  Elegantly clad in soft shades of peach, and carrying a waft of some exclusive scent about her, Claudia di Fuego Montoya looked around as she walked past Annalisa into the main living room. ‘My word,’ she exclaimed in a melodious if faintly patronising voice, ‘I heard the rumours, but I never imagined for one moment—’

  ‘That I would make my home here?’ Annalisa prompted softly.

  ‘Well, yes. I suppose that’s what I mean. But this is really very nice,’ Claudia Montoya admitted as she peered about the room.

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ Annalisa suggested.

  The older woman hesitated, her limpid gaze embracing everything including the suitcases. ‘I can see this is not a convenient moment.’

  ‘There will be no convenient moment,’ Annalisa said truthfully. ‘In fact, Señora Montoya, I am leaving Menorca…for good.’

  ‘Oh, dear. I had thought—’

  Her regret was about as genuine as a pawnbroker’s pity, Annalisa thought, gesturing towards an easy chair set by the window. ‘Yes?’ she enquired politely.

  ‘Well,’ Señora Montoya began, ‘before you arrived I had thought to buy the finca—’ She left the sentence unfinished and reached one hand into the air in an almost balletic pose, as if trying to snag the right phrase.

  ‘For a song?’ Annalisa supplied.

  ‘That’s putting it rather too bluntly, my dear.’

  ‘The time for niceties has gone, don’t you think?’ Annalisa returned evenly. ‘I came here to claim my inheritance only to find myself ranged against Ramon Perez. And, forgive me, Señora Fuego Montoya, but now it seems that I am about to leave at the point where you identify yourself as yet another rival for this land.’ From the look on her face Annalisa guessed that no one had ever spoken to her father’s glamorous widow in quite such a direct manner.

  ‘I admit I was thrown by what I heard about developments here,’ Señora Montoya admitted. ‘And also by talk of you restoring the orange groves.’

  Now her tone was distinctly patronising.

  ‘At least we are being honest with each other,’ Annalisa returned dryly.

  The older woman’s shoulders eased into an elegant shrug.

  ‘Would you care for a drink?’ Annalisa suggested, more out of politeness than any real desire to prolong the encounter.

  ‘No. I don’t think so. There’s hardly time, is there?’ Claudia Montoya rose gracefully to her feet. ‘But there is just one more thing.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do I take it that the rumours are true? The finca is back on the market?’

  ‘That is correct,’ Annalisa said, noting the gleam of triumph that even thickly applied mascara couldn’t hope to conceal.

  ‘Then it only remains for me to wish you, bon voyage, my dear. And
as for the future…well, every—’

  ‘Success?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course,’ Señora Montoya agreed. That’s exactly what I mean. I wish you every success, my dear. Oh, and I’m sure you have already received an offer for the finca from Ramon Perez,’ she said casually, as if it was just an afterthought, ‘but, whatever he offers, I would like to think we could offer more.’

  Annalisa frowned. ‘We?’

  She fluttered her hand. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I will better any offer he might make…whatever that offer might be. You do understand?’

  ‘I think we understand each other,’ Annalisa replied pleasantly. ‘Though I have to say I had no idea that orange groves in such a state as mine could provoke such widespread interest.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not the orange groves, dear. It’s the shoreline we want.’ Her voice was now openly patronising, as if Annalisa could not be expected to know about such things.

  ‘The shoreline?’

  ‘I’ll have my lawyer get in touch with you,’ she said, brushing off the detail. ‘And just remember: whatever Ramon Perez offers, we’ll do something a little better for you.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll remember,’ Annalisa said coolly. ‘Goodnight, Señora Fuego Montoya.’

  There was not a jot of warmth coming from the woman, in spite of all her fine words, Annalisa thought as she ushered her stepmother out of the house. Her first impressions had been spot on. Señora Montoya was no friend. She didn’t give so much as a backward glance before climbing into her expensive little red sports car. Mission accomplished, Annalisa guessed, closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh of relief. The woman probably couldn’t believe her luck now she had established that the finca was definitely back on the market.

  Smoothing her hands down the front of the simple sun-bleached two-piece she had chosen to travel in, Annalisa gave a thin smile.

  Compared with Señora Fuego Montoya’s designer outfit, her clothes felt shabby. Since her disaster with the white dress she hadn’t had a chance to go shopping. Señora Montoya clearly didn’t have her marked down as a challenge. Neither did Ramon. No wonder he thought he could use her for target practice whenever he was bored.

  Curiosity drew her to the window and she watched for a few moments until Claudia Montoya’s car disappeared down the lane. Then, turning away, she shot a wry glance at her canine defender. ‘You can stop growling now, Fudge. She’s gone.’

  The airport at Mahon was clean and modern, and lacked the hectic confusion of many a larger facility. Annalisa was on her way to the check-in desk when, seeing the woman who lay in her path, she suddenly drew up short. Then pulling herself together, she marched forward determinedly. She would just have to make a wide curving detour around the attractive woman shifting from foot to elegantly clad foot.

  ‘Annalisa?’

  Annalisa stopped dead in her tracks. Her back tingled with the knowledge that Margarita was right behind her. She turned around slowly and they stared at each other.

  Margarita was even more beautiful than she had guessed from seeing her at a distance. Her thick glossy black hair was gathered back loosely and held in place by a wisp of chiffon. She wore a loose-fitting jade silk two-piece with a natural flair that owed nothing to the artifice employed by Claudia Montoya. Her make-up consisted of nothing more than a slick of ruby gloss to accentuate the curve of her lips and a suggestion of grey shadow on her doe-brown eyes.

  Her expression showed natural curiosity, as well as relief that her wait was over—nothing more. It flashed into Annalisa’s mind that Margarita didn’t have a clue about Ramon’s extra-marital activities… But if that was the case what was she doing here?

  Margarita broke the silence first. ‘Have you time for coffee?’ she asked in a lightly accented voice.

  ‘Well, my flight—’

  ‘Doesn’t leave for almost two hours,’ Margarita reasoned, making it difficult for Annalisa to refuse without appearing rude.

  ‘I have to check in.’

  ‘I’ll help you.’ Without waiting for an answer, Margarita took the passport and travel documents from her hand and walked along to a desk that seemed to be out of use. Several young men rushed to her assistance.

  ‘There. That’s done,’ she said, coming back to hand the empty envelope and passport to Annalisa. ‘Shall we find that drink?’

  Annalisa’s legal training took over that part of her brain that was still able to function. It was better to hear what the other side had to say before you opened your mouth. That way you didn’t reveal anything they didn’t know. But against all her instincts for self-preservation came the realisation that she had already warmed to Margarita.

  ‘How did you know I’d be here?’ Annalisa said when they had both settled into a discreet booth in the self-service café.

  ‘Maria Teresa told me,’ Margarita replied with a quick smile. ‘She thinks a lot of you,’ she added. ‘They all do.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘The villagers,’ Margarita explained. ‘They can see what you are trying to do. Your father was a wonderful man. And now they see that you mean to carry on his legacy—’ She broke off and reached out to touch Annalisa’s arm. ‘I’m sorry. Did I say something to upset you?’

  ‘No,’ Annalisa said softly. She was the one who was sorry. ‘I had hoped to make a go of things here—’ There was an air of closure about the remark. It was both a commitment for herself and a silent promise to Margarita.

  Margarita’s expression changed from empathy to concern. ‘You can’t mean you’re leaving the island for good?’

  ‘It just didn’t work out.’ Annalisa spread her hands in a helpless gesture. How could she explain? Their gazes glanced off each other and she realised that under different circumstances they might have been friends.

  ‘That’s not what I heard,’ Margarita argued, reaching across the table to touch her hand. ‘No one here can understand why you are going back to England. Surely they are mistaken? Surely this is just a visit?’

  ‘No,’ Annalisa said flatly as she drained the last dregs of coffee. ‘What you’ve heard is true. I am leaving for good.’

  ‘Would it change your mind if I told you that all the villagers who used to work for your father are planning to gather at the finca this afternoon to show their support for you?’

  ‘Their support—’

  ‘They want to work for you, Annalisa…for nothing to start with, if they have to. They will put in a few hours each evening to get the estate running again and then—’

  ‘I can’t let them do that.’

  ‘Why not? If that’s what they want—’

  ‘No!’ Annalisa said sharply, covering her ears in an instinctive gesture. ‘It’s too late for that.’

  This time Margarita would not be put off, and taking both Annalisa’s hands in her own she drew them down to the table, keeping a firm hold. ‘Please, Annalisa. They deserve this chance. Even if you won’t reconsider for your own sake, think of them. They begged me to come here to try and change your mind.’

  Her innocent plea settled around Annalisa’s heart like a band of thorns, but her answer was a slow shake of her head.

  ‘If you won’t come back for them, then at least come back for Ramon.’

  Even her astonished expression failed to deflect Margarita.

  ‘He’s devastated,’ she carried on in a tense whisper. ‘But he’s so proud—’

  Snatching her hands away, Annalisa stumbled to her feet. ‘You don’t understand. I can’t—’ She made a clumsy attempt at pushing the table back and only succeeded in banging it hard into Margarita’s leg. ‘Oh! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!’

  Making a dismissive sound, Margarita reached for Annalisa’s wrist. ‘Then sit down again and listen to me.’

  Annalisa held back, then gave in. ‘You’re right. It’s time I was honest with you.’

  ‘Good,’ Margarita said with a smile of encouragement. ‘Come and sit down again. Happiness is such a fr
agile condition, Annalisa. We must never waste an opportunity to preserve it.’

  ‘I’ll get some more coffee first.’ Annalisa was desperate to regroup her thoughts before she caused any more damage in Margarita’s life.

  Returning with a selection of pastries and two cups of coffee, she cautiously restarted the conversation, ‘You want to talk to me about Ramon?’

  ‘Let me tell you about my husband,’ Margarita began, spreading her fingers wide as if she didn’t quite know where to begin. ‘He is quixotic…and a little arrogant.’ She made a rueful gesture, as if to say that was only to be expected. ‘And of course he is very passionate—’ She broke off and laughed self-consciously, her face reddening at the revelation. ‘I suppose you have guessed that by the way I talk about him. But we have loved each other since we were children.’ She stopped and smiled, reaching out a hand to touch Annalisa’s arm. ‘Don’t look so alarmed. I’m sorry if I’m embarrassing you. I know we’ve only just met, but I feel as if we could be friends.’

  Annalisa lowered her gaze as she smiled. Was it possible to feel any worse?

  ‘Separations between us are inevitable,’ Margarita continued, unaware of the effect her words were having, ‘but it could be so different for you, Annalisa. I have no right to ask this of you, but I’m going to anyway—for all our sakes, please don’t go back to England.’

  Annalisa shook her head adamantly. ‘I must.’

  Margarita stirred the froth in her coffee cup as silence hung between them. ‘Then you’re making a terrible mistake,’ she said at last.

  ‘How can you of all people say that?’ Annalisa demanded incredulously.

  Margarita’s slender shoulders lifted in an elegant shrug. ‘I know everything from Ramon.’

  ‘He told you what, exactly?’

  Margarita leaned towards her. ‘He is in love with you, Annalisa.’

  ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘Sorry? Why are you sorry?’ Margarita exclaimed, biting down on one of the sugar-coated pastries.