‘Is it the same for guitarists?’ She appreciated Mateo’s love for flamenco, but sometimes he gave her so much information her head almost exploded.
‘A flamenco guitarist is expected to move in and out of palos with ease. One minute it is slow and emotional like siguiriyas then the next is fast with a lot of rhythm, like alegrías. This is why we need different guitars for different occasions. Here,’ he picked up an instrument and handed it to her, ‘it does not weigh much, no?’
She nodded wondering how he could ignore what almost happened on the balcony only moments before. No one brings their lips so close to someone else’s unless a kiss is on their mind.
‘Depending on the guitar and the sound that is needed, different wood is used. Rosewood for percussion,’ he rapped his knuckles rhythmically against the wood while she held it. Guilt consumed her for not being interested in his flamenco lesson as all she wanted to do was push him onto the nearby bed and have her way with him. Did Mateo have any clue how irresistibly sexy he was?
‘The traditional flamenco guitar, blanca,’ he continued, lost in his world, ‘is from light cypress. Spanish cypress was once used in these guitars because it was cheap and available but these days it is rare, and so the modern guitar, called negra, is made of dark-coloured rosewood from Brazil and has a rich tone like classical guitars.’ He picked up a rosewood guitar and turned it over for her to study.
She gazed at his long fingers, wondering what they would feel like—
‘I am sorry about my mini-lecture. It is a bad habit, no?’
‘Not a bad habit at all,’ she said and passed back the guitar. ‘It’s good to have a passion.’
He rested the guitar against the wall and gave a lopsided smile. ‘You are a kind person, listening to my flamenco tutorials.’ He held out his hand and she happily took it, loving the feel of his skin against hers. ‘Leila wishes to see you.’
‘Don’t you mean Cristina?’
‘Cristina? Wh—’ He let out a short laugh. ‘Cristina gave me a message that Leila would like to meet with us before my performance tonight. Leila is on her way.’
‘Oh.’
‘You are disappointed?’ He shrugged on his jacket.
‘No, not at all! I like Leila.’ Charlotte grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, wondering when she could next get Mateo alone.
‘She likes you also. I am not sure why though.’ Mateo winked as the apartment door closed behind them.
CHAPTER
13
1944—Katarina
Katarina sat on the couch, caressing the love letter Raul had left on the pillow beside her. She’d woken to find him gone, having already left for a meeting that had the potential to change their future forever. Needing to concentrate on something other than Raul’s return, she opened the letter once more and read his beautiful, poetic words.
My dearest Katarina,
Your love fans the embers of my aching soul,
Your love ignites my passion within,
Your love inspires me to grow,
Your love means my life is about to begin.
Forever yours,
Raul
Smiling, she folded the letter and put it in her handbag to take home and place with the other romantic missives he’d written. Although they’d spent almost every waking and sleeping hour with each other for the past few weeks, Raul had taken to writing love letters. She’d tried to reply but found it incredibly difficult to put her feelings on paper but she wouldn’t give up.
Reaching into her handbag again, she took out a pencil and notebook and rested the book on her knee, pencil poised. Sighing, she started.
My dearest Raul,
Although words do not come with ease, I want to commit my love for you in black and white. You have known me in two worlds and accepted and loved me in both. No one has the luck I do.
She paused, reread her words and shook her head. It would be less painful to extract teeth than to lay her feelings on the table. She’d conveyed her love for him by the way she gently brushed past him in the hallways of the theatre; the special smile she gave when their eyes met across the rehearsal room; and the way she’d flick her skirt in his direction as she danced. She hoped these gestures showed him the intensity of her love, but if she could commit words to paper then he would have concrete evidence.
When the My heart The moment your lips
Sighing, she chewed the end of the pencil and stared at the mess of papers covered with pitiful scrawlings. One day she’d write her lover a letter that would make him weep.
The front door clicked open and Katarina quickly shoved the pencil and notepaper under the cushion behind her. Raul strode in, his long legs carrying him across the apartment and straight to Katarina.
Kneeling in front of her, he looked deep into her eyes. Quietly, he said, ‘I imagine you know of the Maquis.’
She nodded, anxiety welling within at the mention of Franco’s strongest opposition. The anti-Franco resistance, Spanish Maquis, began before the Civil War ended in 1939, but with Franco’s advances many Maquis supporters fled to France. No one could have predicted this bunch of fugitives with weaponry experience would come together in such strength and help the French Resistance when Germany occupied France. The Spanish Maquis had destroyed railways and factories, captured thousands of Germans and liberated many French towns. To those who despised Franco, the Maquis were the heroes who had stopped any chance of the Germans turning on the supposedly neutral Franco by invading Spain.
‘With the Germans gone from France the Maquis are now focussing on Spain again.’ He waited for the impact of the words to hit her.
‘They’re going to bring Franco down?’
Raul nodded. ‘There are still Maquis inside Spain, working quietly and laying in wait for the right moment, helping those in France gather information and weapons. Their plan is to take a sector of Spain and provoke a general uprising. If they achieve this then the Allies might assist in liberating Spain in the same way they’ve done with other European countries.’
‘That’s a lot of hope they’re relying on.’
‘What else do they have? These people have suffered for years and seen their loved ones killed at the hands of Franco’s men. The Spanish Maquis have assisted the French and now it’s time to look after our own country and rid ourselves of the tyrant ruling us.’ Raul’s passion was contagious. ‘Look at what Franco did to your father.’
‘I know.’ Tears stung her eyes and she angrily wiped them away. ‘I don’t understand what this has to do with me, though.’
‘The Maquis need your help.’ The instant he said those words she knew their lives had changed forever.
‘They haven’t even met me.’
‘They don’t need to. They know me and if I vouch for someone, my word is good enough for them. You are not the first person I have recruited. Besides, the fewer people who know what they look like the better.’
‘This is what you’ve been doing all these years?’
‘For many, yes.’ His eyes held immense pain. ‘I have done many things I am not proud of, but it has been in the name of freedom for the people of Spain.’
‘Did you—’
Raul held up his hand, his voice low, ‘Please do not ask for details because I won’t share them—for your sake and for mine.’
‘For safety?’
He shook his head, his eyes glassy. ‘Too traumatic. No one needs to remember those experiences.’
Katarina’s heart went out to him. What kind of atrocities had he suffered? Or inflicted? She wasn’t so naïve as to think he had fought for the Maquis without getting his hands dirty. For years politics had twisted and turned and broken Spain’s people in so many ways that it was impossible for anyone to remain unscathed.
With a shaking hand Katarina brushed a chunk of hair behind her ear. ‘Why aren’t you in France with the others?’
‘I’ve managed to lie low, keep my nose clean. The Maquis need people on t
he ground here as much as in France.’ He took her hand, his warm fingers entwining with hers. ‘This is where I need your help.’
Shuffling into a more comfortable position, she asked, ‘What will I be doing?’
‘Dancing flamenco.’
‘How is that supposed to help anyone?’
He bowed his head for a moment, then looked into her eyes. ‘Franco has distorted the true meaning of flamenco, right?’
She nodded.
‘So what better way to get revenge and help the Maquis?’
‘I’m not following.’
Squeezing her hands, Raul said, ‘You’ll still create magic with your beautiful dancing and will be free to interpret the music as you do now, but there will be small sections in certain songs that will be pre-choreographed.’
‘Are the choreographed movements codes?’ she asked, unsure how anyone could think it was possible to pull this off successfully.
‘Yes.’ Raul paused, as if letting Katarina catch up. ‘No one will know any different, apart from you, me, and the people giving and receiving the codes.’
‘If there’s one person giving me code and another person receiving it in the audience, why don’t they just meet and swap?’ Her mind couldn’t comprehend the complexity or that any of this could truly happen.
‘It’s too risky and I’m not privy to the details. All I know is that once a week you will receive a letter from France from a fictional flamenco teacher. She will write about her life and family and the new dance steps she is working on. She’ll go into detail as, of course, you are still interested in learning from this person who was once your teacher. Then you will dance those steps on stage. The person in the audience is trained to memorise your movements, especially the footwork, and will pass on the necessary information to inform Maquis supporters here.’
‘Like a morse code of sorts? And how does my supposed friend get the information so they can translate it into dance steps?’ It was complicated but she was beginning to understand how it could work.
‘They receive their own codes from the control centre of the network and change it into dance steps that are sent to you.’
A throbbing started in both her temples and she used her fingers to massage the pain. ‘But if these codes go through so many people isn’t there a chance that one is misinterpreted and the whole message is wrong? Didn’t you play Chinese whispers as a child?’
‘The Maquis have worked with code for years. You only have to worry about sticking to the choreography.’
‘So I won’t know what the code means,’ she said. Worry and excitement mixed in a dangerous cocktail.
‘Exactly, it’s for your protection. We will need to work together as I’ll have to make sure my playing fits in with your movements.’
‘Is Federico in on this?’ she asked.
‘No.’ Raul shook his head vehemently.
A million thoughts crashed in on each other. ‘Is he a Franco supporter?’
‘In all the years I have known him we have never discussed politics as that is a sure-fire way to end a friendship. I suspect he is neutral but I do not know for sure.’
‘Aren’t you putting your relationship with him at risk by doing something like this under his nose?’
‘We are fighting an unofficial war here, Katarina. I value my friendship with Federico immensely, but if Franco remains in power and the country keeps diving, then Federico will have no audience and no theatre and we will be on the streets. In a roundabout way, I’m helping him and countless others. Even Salvador.’
Katarina pondered Raul’s justifications and although it didn’t sit well with her, she could see his point. ‘You do realise that we’ll be doing it under the nose of some of Franco’s biggest supporters.’
‘The Lobo Brothers?’ A slow smile spread across his lips. ‘I can’t say it wouldn’t bring great joy to send Maquis code on their stage.’
‘Are you sure Federico is neutral?’
‘Federico only looks out for himself, you know this. He will go where the money is, regardless of that person’s political allegiance.’
‘Hmmm …’ The questions kept coming, but she had to know everything, especially how this could affect people she cared about. ‘Will Salvador need to be in on this?’
‘You’ve hinted in the past he’s anti-Franco, but we don’t need Salvador’s services at this point.’
‘The less he knows, the better, right?’ She didn’t want to put her dearest friend in any danger. ‘What if this falls in a heap? What if we’re arrested and Salvador is guilty by association?’
‘The network knows what they are doing and if Salvador has no knowledge then he can’t be found guilty.’
‘They could make up charges.’
‘Anyone can be charged with anything these days. Do not worry, my dear Katarina. There are many, many people looking out for you, I promise. You’ll never see or hear them, but they are out there, ensuring your safety. You are important to them and precious to me.’ He folded an arm around her shoulders and she instantly felt secure. ‘We are doing the right thing for our countrymen.’
She nodded as hot tears welled in her eyes. Katarina hated not telling Salvador about what she was doing, but it made perfect sense to keep him in the dark. After all, she’d been doing exactly that these past few weeks because she hadn’t breathed a word about her relationship with Raul.
‘Have you told him about us yet?’ Raul asked, tapping into her thoughts.
‘Uh …’
‘Didn’t you say you’d tell him after a short while? It’s been much longer than that.’ Raul moved away. ‘If he knows about us then that will explain why we’re spending so much time together.’
‘And it can now be used as a cover for the work we’ll be doing,’ she said, her voice monotone. ‘It sounds so calculated.’
‘It’s not, I promise.’ Raul took a deep breath. ‘Why haven’t you told him about us, though? Are you ashamed?’
‘No, not at all! It’s just that …’ She glanced at the ceiling, trying to collect her thoughts. ‘He’ll want me to start talking about my feelings and I just don’t have words for them.’
‘Would love be a word you could use?’ Raul tilted his head to the side.
‘Maybe.’ She leant forward and stroked the side of his face. Drawing close and placing her lips on his, she basked in his warmth then moved away slightly. ‘Yes, I can definitely use that word.’
CHAPTER
14
Charlotte and Mateo entered Bar Alegría, the crowd already in full swing with beer and wine flowing. Pedro gave a quick wave as he dashed between tables, balancing a tray of tapas, and Charlotte and Mateo made their way towards the back of the bar. Cristina had a foot on the stage, stretching one long slim leg then the other. She didn’t acknowledge Charlotte, but made a beeline for Mateo, smothering him in a tight embrace and giving her best saccharine smile.
Nonplussed by this overt display of affection, he asked, ‘Where is Leila?’
‘Here I am!’ She rushed up and kissed Mateo on the cheeks then Charlotte. ‘You have a show, yes?’
Mateo nodded.
‘Then I will take the lovely Charlotte with me and we will watch.’ She grabbed Charlotte’s hand and dragged her to a small table off to the side of the stage. It offered a perfect view but wasn’t so close that they felt like they were part of the performance, thank goodness. Cristina went back to stretching and looking gorgeous and sexy. She forced her way into Mateo’s space, her long lashes fluttering and her manicured nails sweeping her thick, black locks away from her perfectly made up face. Charlotte could feel jealousy winning and she tried damn hard to kill it.
‘First, drinks,’ Leila said and waved Pedro over. ‘Una botella de vino—’
‘Water for me, thanks,’ Charlotte interrupted. She needed to dry out so she could start figuring out how she was going to impart all this information to Abuela.
Leila shrugged and Pedro scurried away. Leaning in
close, she said, ‘I have information.’
‘About?’
‘The person from our clan who was an artist.’
How could there possibly be more news?
Pedro returned with the drinks and an extra big helping of tapas. He winked at Charlotte, then said, ‘Good food. Eat.’
‘Gracias.’ Charlotte dutifully shoved an olive in her mouth, the bitter juice exploding on her tongue. Smiling, she said, ‘Delicioso.’
Pedro nodded his approval and hurried off to serve the ever-growing throng.
Leila looked around then directly at Charlotte. ‘I need your words.’
‘A promise?’
‘Yes.’
‘Anything you say will stay with me.’ Charlotte resisted spitting on her finger and crossing her heart, unsure how that would go down with gitano tradition.
‘It is okay to mention to Mateo, I trust him like a brother, but no one else. Except for your abuela, of course.’
‘Okay,’ Charlotte said, still unsure where Leila was going with this whole secret-squirrel business.
‘I have been working on the history of my clan.’
‘Doesn’t that go against your beliefs?’
‘It goes against my clan’s beliefs but not my personal ones. This is why I need to trust you.’ Leila adjusted the cardigan on her narrow shoulders. ‘I will not say the name of the person we are talking about, there are some things I respect, but I believe for the future generations of my clan to exist in peace, remembering our history is important.’
‘But if you’re making notes, how can you get away without mentioning names?’
‘It is complicated, but I manage. The artist, she was well-known outside the clan and was a little like me, a rebel.’ She grinned. ‘The elite of Granada loved her art and invited her into their world. Like a little pet cat.’
‘That doesn’t sound very dignified.’ Could this really be Charlotte’s great-grandmother they were talking about?
‘Times, they were different, yes? We do not know reasons for her actions.’
‘True. How do you know this?’
Under the Spanish Stars Page 16
