‘Ciertamente, we’ll take as long as you like. Remember, querida, I would never pressure you but I will always be here for you.’
A little later, over the next course, Luna managed to guide the conversation to Sabrina, reminding Ruy that he had promised to tell her the girl’s story. She no longer held any vestiges of the fear and jealousy that had overcome her the previous evening. It felt like a distant memory now and she was simply keen to fill in the missing piece of jigsaw in Ruy’s own story.
‘Sabrina’s mother originated from the Tziganes of central Transylvania,’ Ruy explained. ‘Leyla, or La Pharaona as they called her, had been tried and found guilty of adultery by a gypsy tribunal. Her life as she knew it was over. She was banished from her people, with no hope of ever returning. Pregnant, she fled to Spain, where, for a few years, she led a hard life on the streets of Seville with her child, Sabrina.’
‘How did you get to know her?’ Luna asked.
‘She finally ended up in Puerto de Santa María. La Pharaona had already been making her name as a healer among the gypsies in Triana, the poor quarter of Seville. She had brought with her such a wealth of herbal knowledge from the hills of her homeland. It was such a gift.’ Ruy paused to take a gulp of wine, a half-smile playing on his face. ‘Anyway, as fortune would have it, she heard about the many plants that grow in Alcalá de los Gazules and, when she’d gathered enough clients, she went into the hills and built herself a hut in the glade where you found Sabrina and me yesterday evening.
‘La Pharaona would always carry the stigma of being ostracized by her own people, and so the Calés were happy to keep her at arm’s length. Still, people came to her from all over Andalucía and she made a good living.’
‘How did you get to know her, though?’
He studied her face and then cast his eyes down, turning his napkin over in his hand. ‘My father, being half-gypsy, came across La Pharaona when I was having a difficult time at university. She showed me her plant remedies and we became friends.’ He looked up, his eyes warming. ‘She taught me such a lot, especially about healing being a matter of treating the mind, body and spirit – a truly holistic undertaking. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be the man, or the doctor, I am now.’
Luna could see a mist cloud Ruy’s eyes as he paused and took a gulp of wine.
‘Anyway, sometimes, when La Pharaona had to go down to Puerto de Santa María to visit a client, I kept an eye on Sabrina up in the hills. As the child grew older she became infatuated with me, but on my side there’s never been anything but a brotherly feeling towards her. On her deathbed, La Pharaona effectively passed me her healer’s mantle, together with the responsibility of recording her remedies for posterity and tending her beloved herb garden. She also gave me something infinitely more precious to her to keep safe. The guardianship of Sabrina, until the time should come when the girl could fly with her own wings.’
Luna swallowed. ‘That’s a lot to ask.’
‘It has been more of a pleasure than a duty, thankfully. La Pharaona would never have asked if she hadn’t recognized that we’d established a close, almost familial bond already. Not only that, she was generous enough to teach me the herbal lore she’d inherited from her forebears.’
He paused to reflect a moment.
‘I owed her a great deal. No, it wasn’t really a lot to ask.’
There was something in his expression that puzzled Luna but she decided to leave it until another time when they were completely alone. Instead she told him: ‘You did the right thing. Sabrina is so lucky to have you.’
Ruy smiled. ‘Anyhow, the time has come for Sabrina to spread those wings. She’s leaving Andalucía and joining a family of gypsy healers in Murcia. They heard about her skills and sought her out. They’ve just lost their daughter so it seems right. I’m happy for Sabrina. Hopefully, she’s finally found people who will understand and appreciate her. She’s very good at what she does too. Her mother taught her well. The other night when you saw her dancing in the moonlight, that was her way of saying goodbye.’
‘I hope she finds happiness.’ Slowly, Luna traced a line in the tablecloth with her fingertip. ‘I know what it is to feel motherless and adrift. I had my cousin to support me through difficult times, we all need someone …’ She glanced up at him earnestly. ‘I hope that one day, when she’s over her crush, Sabrina will be able to count me as a friend too.’
Ruy’s eyes glowed with love and approbation. ‘I feel the happiest man alive,’
It was all he said, and all he needed to say on the matter. He tucked into his tuna with relish. ‘This is delicious. Try yours.’
Luna took a mouthful. ‘Wow, that’s amazing!’
‘It’s fished locally on the Costa de la Luz. If you’re interested I’ll take you to watch the Almadraba. It’s an ancient Andalucían way of fishing the red tuna.’
Luna’s eyes lit up. ‘I’d love that.’
‘I’ll call Chico in the morning to have the yacht made ready for us. He spends as much time on her as I do and often takes her out. He’ll be glad to help out. The boat’s moored in Conil de la Frontera. We can drive down tomorrow and spend a couple of days there. It’ll be in the midst of the Feria de Primavera de El Colorado, when they celebrate the change from spring to summer. It’s a good time to go.’
The gentle glow of the exotic aquarium around them created an intimate bubble that made Luna keenly aware of the charismatic force of the man sitting across the table from her. Indeed, if charisma and a dominating personality were the measure of masculinity then Ruy was a giant among men. In the past, this would have brought on a feeling of irritation or belligerence in her, she realized, but now it made her feel feminine and safe. Deep down she knew it was precisely her own femininity that could – if she chose to use it – reduce this powerful man to a meek lamb.
‘Let’s go home,’ she whispered, the sudden desire for his arms around her eclipsing any rational thought. ‘Let’s not have coffee here. I’ll make some for you at La Gaviota – or a hot chocolate if you like?’
His lips quirked. ‘I read somewhere that love is like swallowing hot chocolate before it’s cooled off. At first it takes you by surprise, but keeps you warm for a long time.’ His eyes turned a rich, vibrant blue as he gazed at her face. ‘Have I told you how ravishingly beautiful you are tonight?’
Luna blushed. ‘You make me feel beautiful all the time.’
This was the beginning of the most deliriously happy few days of Luna’s life.
Chapter 14
Ruy left La Gaviota shortly before midnight, after Luna had spent a blissful couple of hours in his arms. She had wanted him to stay but he told her to get some sleep as they’d be off bright and early. However, rather than go to bed straight away, she decided to call Ted Vandenberg, her editor in New York. On the East Coast it would still be working hours and, if she was going to sort out the mess into which she had plunged herself, she wanted the conversation with him to be over and done with as soon as possible.
As she had already summoned the courage to email her final article to Ted, now she was preparing herself to give her verbal resignation. What did it matter if she was without a job? The situation as it stood was utterly untenable and, after dwelling so much on issues of trust and honesty these past few days, she had begun to realize that the world of investigative journalism was not for her in any case.
Ted’s voice when he answered the phone was cautious, less ebullient than usual. Luna asked him what he had thought of her feature.
‘To tell you the honest truth, I was a bit taken aback,’ he admitted in his familiar smoky drawl. ‘I thought you were going to give us a juicy exposé, even though I cautioned you against bias in your investigation. Instead, I received something rather astonishingly different.’
Luna’s heart sank. ‘But did you like it? I promise you that I never lost sight of the need for integrity, careful fact-finding and respectable research. I can see it isn’t what you’d term a “j
uicy story”, though.’
‘I knew you weren’t the type to have the wool pulled over your eyes, Luna, and would see through every bit of flakiness.’ Ted still sounded tentative, choosing his words carefully. ‘But I wasn’t expecting this would be the result. You’ve given me a hymn of praise for the Institute, that’s for sure. I just need to get my head around it. Maybe our readers will find it newsworthy simply because they’d expect us to dish the dirt on the place.’
‘Which it in no way deserves,’ said Luna shortly. ‘I’ve investigated the clinic thoroughly. Is it my fault if what I found there was exceptional, even laudable?’
Ted paused, then sighed. ‘So long as you weren’t led down the garden path by a charismatic boss with a renowned eye for the ladies.’
‘If you’re saying what I think you’re saying,’ said Luna, apparently forgetting for a moment that she had indeed come under the doctor’s spell, ‘you don’t know me very well. If you think that I could ever let personal issues skew my editorial integrity …’ Her temper was rising and she was about to put down the phone, when Ted cut in quickly.
‘Now then, Luna, wait a minute—’
But Luna didn’t give him the chance to apologize; she needed to say her piece. ‘Ted, I’ve enjoyed working with you until now but I think it’s best if I hand in my notice,’ she said quickly. ‘I won’t be coming back to New York. Let me know if you do decide to run the article. I worked hard on it and the Institute deserves its findings to be featured.’
At this Ted was assiduous in trying to persuade Luna to stay on, saying her potential was such that he really didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t exactly promise to publish her feature, but she was pretty certain that he would do so. Mollified, she softened her tone but she was still quietly firm on the fact of her leaving. When she finally put down the phone, Luna heaved a sigh of relief. If she were to have a hope of redeeming herself in Ruy’s eyes after she’d told him the truth about her work at the Institute, then her feature appearing in the next issue of Scientific US was essential, she told herself. Until it was in print, she reasoned, she might as well remain quiet on the matter.
* * *
It was a usual Spanish early morning of blue skies and lemonyellow sunshine when they set out for Conil de la Frontera in Ruy’s vintage Austin. A slight pale haze in the atmosphere floated over the rooftops, conveying a dreamlike impression that enveloped the travellers in a languorous mood. For Luna, since Ruy had asked her to marry him the previous evening, it was like entering a new world, where it seemed the sun must always shine if only for the reason that she was in love with the most wonderful man and would soon have the right to share his life.
The two of them spoke little during the journey, dwelling tenderly on love and enjoying the beauty of the coastal road and the wildness of the scenery about them, which was gently mountainous with baked brown earth and scrubby green bushes and plants that made it look almost desert-like. From time to time Ruy smiled softly at Luna and she melted, floating on air, her heart and soul going out to him.
A few miles before they arrived at Conil de la Frontera, Ruy turned down a rough track that looked as though it was leading nowhere.
‘Are we not going to Conil?’
‘Yes, but you get to it down here. Conil is built on a cliff. It’s one of the Pueblos Blancos of the Costa de la Luz. Historically, it’s always been a strategic location because it’s at the southern tip of Spain and so close to Africa,’ he told her. ‘After Guzmán el Bueno heroically defended Tarifa against the Moors at the end of the thirteenth century, King Fernando IV of Castile awarded him Conil, along with a handful of other neighbouring towns. El Bueno went on to fortify and repopulate Conil, building a harbour three miles out of town in a spot that gave the best anchorage.’
As they approached the port, Luna revelled in the scenery, which was now transformed. Backed by towering cliffs covered in lush vegetation, endless white beaches seemed to stretch to infinity, fringing water so clear it reflected the beautiful undersea world. The profusion of plants, shrubs and wild flowers on either side of the road took Luna’s breath away. ‘Wow!’ she cried out spontaneously. ‘Have you ever seen anything more beautiful? I can see now why you keep your boat here.’
Ruy smiled at her enthusiasm, devouring her with his gaze. ‘There’s a pretty walk along the clifftop of Conil harbour, leading to lots of nice coves. We’ll do that one day.’
Suddenly, as they rounded the corner, the fishing harbour of Conil appeared like a miniature enclave with polychromatic toy boats bobbing in a variegated turquoise bay. Some were arranged in an orderly fashion along the narrow quay; others were leaving the harbour, looking to Luna like ducks swimming hurriedly on the placid water. A pleasure paddle steamer on a trip from Tarifa was making its way towards Cádiz, leaving in her wake a wide expanse of white froth.
Vela Gitana, Sailing Gypsy awaited them at one end of the busy harbour. It was a thirty-five-foot motor yacht built of mahogany planking over teak frames with a shoal draft keel. The dark-blue hull was painted to a high-gloss finish, with a thin red streaking line from bow to stern, interrupted by a row of small portholes. Her sheer was elegant and higher than the ones Luna had seen on more modern yachts but, despite her years, Vela Gitana was a handsome and romantic lady.
Chico was waiting for them, a broad welcoming grin beaming on his leathered face. This time his massive torso was without a shirt, and running diagonally across it, from shoulder to waist, Luna noticed a scar, white against his tanned, muscled chest.
‘Buenas días, Ruy,’ he called as they approached the boat. ‘You’re earlier than I expected. Was there no traffic on the roads this morning?’
‘Hola, Chico. We left very early.’
‘Luna.’ Chico gave a comical half bow. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘You too, Chico,’ Luna replied almost shyly. She was aware that things had changed between her and Ruy since the christening at the gypsy camp and suddenly felt self-conscious in front of his old friend. ‘I didn’t know you liked sailing.’
‘I’m a sea-gypsy. In other words, half man, half shark.’ He grinned and winked at Ruy.
Ruy laughed, then looked up at the sky and sniffed appreciatively at the keen air. ‘What’s the weather forecast? Is there going to be much wind?’
‘The sea’s calm and the wind is good. About seven knots per hour,’ replied Chico. ‘You’ll reach hull speed, and you won’t need to worry about large waves and accidental jibes. It should be a pleasant sail.’ He turned to Luna and chuckled. ‘Unless of course la señorita would prefer a more adventurous sail, in which case you should motor to Tarifa. The wind there this afternoon will reach about ten knots and la señorita will be able to whomp through the waves and let the wind and spray cool her down.’
Luna laughed wholeheartedly. ‘No, no, this señorita is very happy to go for a gentle sail and swim.’
Chico extended a hand to her and she climbed aboard the boat, which was rocking slightly against the jetty on the breeze-ruffled water. Ruy followed.
‘There are a couple of bottles of champagne and some other provisions in the fridge,’ Chico told them as he stepped off the yacht. ‘I also filled up the tender this morning, checked the aqualung cylinders, and left you the oilskins and diving equipment. Everything is ready if you fancy diving.’
‘Mucho gracias, hermano. I don’t think we’ll dive today, maybe tomorrow,’ said Ruy. ‘Hasta luego, see you later. We’re booked at a hotel, so we probably won’t spend the night on board.’
‘But if the night is romantic, who knows, ey? La luna, las estrellas y el amor.’ Chico sighed and winked at Ruy, the expression on his face full of innuendo.
‘I’ve told you before, Chico, romance is in the heart, everything else is theatre.’
Ruy helped Luna to the striped blue-and-white side seats, where she sat while he cast off. In no time, Vela Gitana was elegantly moving away from her mooring. Chico stood on the quay watching them, a gap-toothed
smile broadening his rugged face. ‘Watch out for the tunny nets. This year they’ve extended them to two miles offshore!’ he shouted.
‘He’s such a character, Chico,’ remarked Luna as they waved at the receding figure of the giant gitano. ‘Where on earth did he get that huge scar?’
‘Chico’s a crazy daredevil sometimes,’ said Ruy with a wry smile. ‘That scar was given to him by a shark. He’s quite proud of it.’
‘Why do I think that the shark didn’t come out of it so well?’ laughed Luna.
‘Quite right. He fought it to the death. God knows how, as it was a mighty brute apparently. Chico knows just about everything about sailing. He takes good care of this treasure, scrubbing decks, polishing wood and mending sails when I don’t have time to do it myself. He keeps it fully stocked with provisions too. We often go sailing together.’
Luna looked at his face in half profile. In his faraway gaze she read the wildness of his gypsy soul and his craving for freedom. Would he ever be able to settle down or would she ever be able to find the courage to be the adventurer at his side?
Anything, so long as they were together.
Standing behind the chromed wheel, Ruy manoeuvred the boat through Conil’s small harbour, staying on the motor until they were clear of other craft.
Gradually Luna lost awareness of the scene, staring at the sea, her mind on other things. She tried to analyze the thrill of happiness that had been surging with ever-increasing power in her heart since the night of the storm. There was no need to wonder why the sky was such a heavenly blue, or the sea so turquoise, or that the sun seemed to shine with more golden warmth than ever before. Her spirit was light; life appeared roseate, and all because of this new rich emotion flooding her, making her long for Ruy with a strength that surprised her. Yet a shadow of doubt still played on the periphery of her happiness – but she was quick to shake it off. She was here with him and they loved each other. Nothing was insurmountable, was it?
Legacy Page 40
