Legacy

by Hannah Fielding

  Luna’s throat muscles constricted and her eyes filled with tears. The sobs when they came were deep and hard, her body shaking with their power. Fear, grief and self-pity assailed her; then suddenly she was angry. Angry with her mother for abandoning her; with her father for burying himself in his work when she needed him most; angry with Lorenzo; angry with Ruy because she loved him; angry with the whole world but mostly with herself for her weakness and lack of judgement. It was so much easier to channel all that confusion into one furious ball of emotion.

  She had been so happy and suddenly, without warning, everything had changed; it was as if a dark curtain had come down over a beautiful picture. What was she to do? Her head throbbed with the effort of trying to unravel the tangled skein of her life. She knew she couldn’t stay here. Not now. But the idea of returning to New York was just as bad. Thoughts turned restlessly in her head in ceaseless counterpoint with the sound of the surf lashing against the rocks in the bay. Finally, the endless rhythm as they crashed and were sucked back repeatedly lulled her fraught mind, and she fell into a half-doze where troubled thoughts continued to plague her.

  * * *

  It was mid-afternoon when Luna wrapped a silk kimono around her and went downstairs, where she made herself a cup of herbal tea. She walked outside on to the terrace and sat on the steps, gazing out to sea. The scallop-shaped bay, smooth and green, sparkled like emeralds in the brilliant sunshine. Yachts with white sails moved slowly over the water and colourful flags fluttered from the distant yacht club. A white, lace-like froth edged the water where gentle waves rippled.

  How could everything be so beautiful when she herself felt so wretched? Now the pain that had gripped her since she had discovered Ruy’s secret refused to ease; the golden moments of her life gone, never to be recaptured. It was as if the whole world of happiness that had thrilled her with such high hopes had shattered into a million pieces at her feet.

  ‘Buenas tardes, señorita.’

  Luna turned her head towards the voice. Señora Sanchez was walking towards her, black spaniel at her heels, a sunny smile beaming on her face.

  ‘Buenas tardes, señora.’

  Luna wondered if her friend would pick up on her red-rimmed eyes, and hurriedly wiped her tear-stained face with her fingers.

  ‘So how is life treating you these days?’ The jovial Spanish woman stopped a few feet away, her smile replaced by an expression of concern. ‘Ay, not so good, I see. Where were you? I noticed the house was closed and I wondered if you had left. Are you well, señorita?’

  Luna wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation, but the genuine interest of Señora Sanchez and her cheerful disposition got the better of her.

  ‘I went away for a few days, visiting your beautiful Costa de la Luz,’ she said, managing a weak smile.

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘No … a friend took me on his yacht.’

  ‘Il joven, the young man you had spoken to me about.’ She looked knowingly at Luna, and there was such warmth in her gaze that Luna’s eyes once more clouded with emotion.

  Señora Sanchez came up the steps and sat down next to Luna, taking her hand. ‘We have a saying: Las peleas de amantes son como las lluvias de verano que salen del país más verde y hermoso, lovers’ quarrels are like summer showers that leave the country more verdant and beautiful. I hope you don’t mind listening to a meddling old woman, but I’ve seen some heartache in my time around the ones I love and hope I have a bit of wisdom to call my own … Why don’t you go to him, señorita? Talk to him.’

  ‘I’m afraid this quarrel has left our love utterly destroyed,’ said Luna dejectedly. ‘You see, there’s something I’ve discovered from his past … something he kept from me … and it’s torn us apart.’

  ‘As the saints are my witness, there is little in this world that can’t be mended,’ said her friend sagely. ‘I’m sure it’s just some misunderstanding you can untangle together if you try.’

  Luna shook her head hopelessly. ‘I’m afraid it’s rather more than just a misunderstanding … what I’ve heard … it’s destroyed everything.’

  ‘Just remember, child, nuestro querido Dios throws thorns in our path to test us. Maybe this is one of those times.’ She paused a moment, sighing deeply. ‘So you trusted this young man, yes?’

  ‘I would have trusted him with my life.’ Luna wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her kimono.

  ‘And the person who told you about this secret … they were trustworthy too, I suppose.’

  Luna froze, her eyes widening a little as she allowed the señora’s words to sink in.

  As if aware that the younger woman needed to be left alone so that she could ruminate on her problem – where, indeed, she might discover that it wasn’t so hopeless after all – Señora Sanchez ruffled the ears of her spaniel, which had been sitting patiently at her side, and made as if to go. However, before she left, she patted Luna’s arm and gently offered one last piece of advice.

  ‘Perhaps il joven thought he might lose you if he told you his secret,’ she said softly. ‘For him, it would be a terrible price to pay. That sort of fear makes cowards of us all, señorita.’

  * * *

  After Señora Sanchez had left, Luna continued to sit for a while at the table on the terrace, the tears coursing down her face. This time, there was the slightest element of relief to them, a softening, as if her Spanish friend had started the process of untangling and Luna sensed she could now find the strength to continue down that path.

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. All of a sudden there was more purpose, less hopelessness, in her demeanour. She got up and went inside to her desk, where she opened her laptop. Then she typed a few words into the search bar:

  Boston driving accident June 29, 1998, Juliet Perez and Rodrigo Rueda de Calderón

  Chapter 16

  Ruy’s mobile rang at the very moment Vaina Jiménez Rivera came into his office, having knocked and entered without waiting for his reply. He ignored the call, letting it go to voicemail.

  He found himself looking at Vaina somewhat dispassionately as she breezed over to his desk, her high heels clicking on the stone floor, her trademark Dior scent wafting in with her. If she noticed his lowered spirits, she didn’t make any comment. Once he would have found the whole effect of her alluring: the bright lipstick against the whiter-than-white teeth; the glitter of gold and pearls at her neck and ears; the flutter of a silk scarf. Now he found it all too much: the sharp teeth seemed to him almost vulpine, the scent overpowering rather than intoxicating.

  After he had called a halt on his relationship with Vaina, Ruy had been persuaded that they were still friends and that she had his best interests at heart. He hadn’t expected it of her after their breakup but, when she had seemed determined to remain his most loyal supporter at the Institute, he never doubted her essential integrity. Her next words dissolved that notion once and for all.

  ‘I’ve just been at a fundraising lunch,’ she announced, a malicious edge to her voice. ‘It seems your little girlfriend has been a very bad girl indeed.’

  He stared back at her, too confused to offer a rejoinder but, as she was positively quivering with the self-righteous need to have her say, Vaina didn’t wait for him to respond anyway.

  ‘Yes, a very illuminating conversation I had with Isabel Herrera.’ Her eyes gleamed malevolently. It seemed to Ruy that she was taking pleasure in spinning out her news as much as possible.

  ‘Vaina, whatever you think you know, I’m surprised you would credit that woman’s gossip with any degree of truth,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, Ruy, please! Do I look like a naïve fool? I knew you would say precisely that so I did a little checking for myself,’ she replied smugly, her lips contorting themselves into a little moue.

  Ruy was not only impatient but also becoming increasingly annoyed. His mood was already dark, plagued by thoughts of Luna and the terrible reproach he’d seen in her eyes. Glaring at her, his next words were
curt. ‘Get on with it, Vaina! Say whatever you’ve got to say.’

  At this, the perfectly coiffed managing director set aside any vestiges of winsome affectation. ‘Luna Ward has been working for us under false pretences, it seems.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His voice was a growl.

  She bridled. ‘You don’t have to use that tone with me, Ruy. I’m not the one who’s been writing an exposé on the Institute.’

  Ruy blanched, his jaw clenching. ‘Go on.’

  A more timorous person might have quailed, his tone was so ominous; instead, Vaina seemed to draw strength from it, a triumphant smile hovering on her face.

  ‘Isabel Herrera took great pleasure in telling me that the Institute would soon be called to account. She has been talking to her brother, Lorenzo Herrera, now he’s back in Spain, and managed to let slip that our newest recruit, Dr Ward, is working for Scientific US. When I probed further, she clammed up, of course.

  ‘I’ve just rung the editor in New York, Ted Vandenberg, to check if there’s any truth in Isabel’s story. I spoke to his PA and she confirmed that Luna is indeed employed by him, and that he had sent her to Spain on an assignment. Apparently, she had been briefed to work undercover.’ Vaina lifted a disdainful brow. ‘Who knows what dirt she’s going to dish in her feature. It could finish you, Ruy. Finish the Institute. Everything we’ve all worked for …’

  Vaina’s zeal was growing with every second, the words tumbling out of her. Had she noticed Ruy’s face was wracked with pain it certainly had no tempering effect on her tirade as she continued to heap calumny on Luna. ‘The little bitch! I knew she wasn’t to be trusted. What a low-down piece of trash.’ Then her parting shot: ‘Typical Herrera.’

  Ruy could stand it no longer. He stood abruptly, his chair tipping backwards and clattering to the floor. His thunderous response took Vaina by surprise, so that her mouth dropped open. ‘Get out!’ he roared. ‘Le juro a Dios, I swear to God, if you have any sense, you’ll keep away from me.’

  For a moment, startled by his fury, fear and humiliation clouded Vaina’s eyes as she registered belatedly that she had gone too far. Then, composing herself rapidly, she stalked to the doorway, where she turned and lifted her chin defiantly.

  ‘The hard-nosed womanizer has finally fallen and landed flat on his face,’ she mocked. She made a move to say something more but whatever it was couldn’t be heard over the slamming of the door in her face.

  * * *

  After Luna had finished reading the online newspaper article about the accident she had collapsed on the sofa, reeling from its implications; ashamed too that she could have so blindly accepted Lorenzo’s version of events. Picking up her phone, she’d dialled Ruy’s number. It went straight to voicemail. The message she left was hesitant, saying briefly that she was sorry, that there were things they needed to talk about, and would he please come over.

  For the next half hour she sat there, her ears pricked for the slightest sound that might indicate he had come.

  At last she heard the throb of an engine, followed by the sound of a car door slamming, then the squeak of the gate and footsteps on the path. Finally, the doorbell.

  ‘Ruy!’ she cried as she pulled open the door. But the smile froze on her face.

  He stared at her blankly. It was the face of a stranger.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, eyes wide with alarm.

  ‘Matter?’ he echoed as he strode into the room and turned to face her.

  He knew! Luna’s stomach gave a sickening lurch. Disappointment, hurt, betrayal and anger were there, written all over his face. Her glance wavered and fell away from his arctic gaze.

  Now for the reckoning …

  ‘It was a bad day for me when I met you. Even worse, when the Institute took you on. Why? What were you hoping for in all this?’

  She passed a dry tongue over even dryer lips. ‘Who told you?’ she asked in a trembling voice.

  His laugh was brittle and sarcastic. ‘Lies have short legs, Luna, didn’t you know? But never mind how I learnt about it, what the hell made you do it?’

  Luna looked up at him and felt chilled to the bone, the words freezing in her throat. How contemptuous he was. Enduring the steely look in his eyes was as bad as having her face slapped. She lowered her gaze, unable to witness any longer the blazing scorn she read on his features.

  ‘You don’t want to answer? Then let me fill in the gaps. I suggest you were out for publicity, using every nasty little trick in the book. Never mind that you were going to bring down the Institute, savage my reputation. So long as you got your precious article published. Well, now you can go back to New York and pick up your paycheque. Not a bad month’s work. Catching a little sun in Spain, with a bit of romance thrown in.’

  Luna heard the words and felt each one cut her like the jagged blade of a knife. She needed to explain, to melt the ice she saw in his eyes, but she was floundering against his onslaught, and every time she hesitated the more guilty it made her seem.

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Ruy …’

  He wasn’t listening; still following his own thread of logic. ‘Perhaps you thought you could get away with it,’ he accused her brutally, and then added sarcastically: ‘Maybe you believed I would never know the truth. Madre de Dios, you’re such a good actress! All those questions of yours, all that devil’s advocate nonsense … you never believed in me from the start!’

  Luna felt faint with humiliation. Her fists were shut so tightly, her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. ‘It was never like that … Yes, I took the assignment … I’d been so hurt over my cousin’s death. Angelina insisted on alternative medicine over chemo … I felt somebody had to be held accountable. I wanted to do some good, I suppose … But then—’

  ‘Oh, so you wanted to do some good?’ His mouth tightened at her revelation, his gaze hardening to a cynical expression she had never seen in his eyes before. ‘A spoilt little crusading journalist, trampling on other people’s hard work!’ He ploughed on, the fury gathering in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry about your cousin, but I can’t see how it’s an excuse for destroying everything we’ve worked so painstakingly to build. All the effort the Institute and its staff put in day after day to help patients … did it mean nothing to you?’

  Luna shrank away before the torrent of words but she managed to whisper between stiff lips. ‘You’ve got it all wrong … I was going to tell you. But now you won’t listen.’

  He drew a deep breath, striving for control, but the hotblooded gypsy in him had taken over and he was too angry to pick his words wisely.

  ‘We made love together and all along you were lying to me, looking into my eyes, telling me how much you adored me, and the whole time you were betraying me!’

  Luna moaned in torment at the cruel lash of his words. Noticing the uncompromising line of his jaw and the glitter of steel in his eyes, she shook her head, bewildered at the viciousness she had never suspected in this man she loved. She steadied her voice to answer, searching for the words to tell him how wrong he was; yet they refused to come and she could only manage, ‘But that wasn’t a lie … How could you think …?’

  ‘What I think is that getting ahead in this career of yours means so much to you that you were prepared to sell yourself in every way.’ He gazed intently into her eyes, scrutinizing the confused depths of the amber pools staring back at him and, for a moment, he seemed to forget where he was and a tiny light flamed behind the blue irises so that they shone brilliantly, and the sculpted lips opened softly in hesitation. Then it passed like an illusion, his eyes hardening as they pierced hers, and he hurled his words at her like sharp stones. ‘You use people to get what you want, utterly ruthlessly. How could I have been so mistaken about you? And that aura of innocence you projected … nothing but lies and deception!’

  Reeling, Luna put her hands over her face, no longer able to bear the icy fury in his eyes. ‘Please, Ruy,’ she whispered. ‘Please listen … It wasn’t like tha
t … I’ve been trying to put things right …’

  But he wasn’t listening and now he had turned away. He pulled open the front door with a rough jerk then delivered his parting shot: ‘You will tender your resignation unless you prefer to be fired,’ he said in a chilling voice. ‘I’ll get Charo to pack up your things and send them here. You’ll not set foot in the Institute again.’

  In the still muteness of the room, his words fell slowly with the precision of a church bell tolling.

  Deep in her soul, Luna knew that she was beaten. There was nothing she could say: he was determined to perceive the worst in her. She realized in all probability that she would never see him again. Her heart felt bruised, too sore to much care what happened to her. Still clutching at straws, she ran to the open door, hoping against hope that he would change his mind and forgive her at the last minute. Already he was walking down the path but she called out in a hoarse, sobbing voice:

  ‘Ruy, don’t go. I can’t bear it! Please … it was sheer stupidity. I realized I was wrong … I’ve been trying to put it right. Give me another chance … please!’ Tears rained down her cheeks in an uncontrolled stream.

  He paused on the pathway and, for a moment, she thought he was wavering, but he did not even turn round. As he strode away, her heart plummeted, her dreams dashed to pieces, and she was left staring after him. She continued to stand there, sobbing, long after his car had driven off.

  Now the dull pain of loneliness settled in her heart. It was too late for regrets. She had reaped what she had sown, and part of her did not blame him. Nevertheless, she felt as if she had been caught up in a tornado that had left her battered and stripped of everything she held dear.

  * * *

  Ruy stepped out of the shower and wrapped a white towel around his waist, using another to rub his hair vigorously. The evening air was warm so he wandered out on to the terrace, drying his muscular arms and torso, and stared into the distance. Dusk had now tinted the horizon like a delicate pink finger, pointing across the sky in the west.