The House in the Pines

by Margaret Carr

  Lynn smiled and thanked him and wondered what Luis had made of her absence. She ate the meal Manuel had prepared for her, then at his insistence sat in an old rattan chair under the balcony.

  * * *

  It was late in the afternoon when Luis, with Peter, arrived at the old house.

  The old man welcomed them into the kitchen where wine, cheese and bread and a dish of olives were set out on the table. Lynn’s heart skipped a beat when Luis’ tall figure filled the doorway. She rose from her seat by the table to go to him when Peter rushed past his father and crossed the room to her side.

  ‘Where have you been? What happened to you? We have all been very worried about you. Father went to the police.’

  He looked to his father for confirmation.

  Luis broke off speaking to the old man to give a brisk nod towards Peter. Lynn felt what little colour she had leave her face at Peter’s mention of the police.

  ‘Oh, not the police.’

  ‘There will be questions to answer most certainly,’ Luis said, coming over to join them. ‘How are you feeling, Lynn?’

  ‘Well enough now, thank you, but I can tell the police very little.’

  ‘Never mind, you can tell me all about it before we inform the police you are safe.’

  ‘Come on, Lynn. We came up in Father’s car. You’ll be quite comfortable going back,’ Peter encouraged, but Lynn was shaking her head. ‘No, if Manuel doesn’t mind, I’d rather tell it here.’

  She sat back down in her chair.

  ‘There is something about this place I don’t understand. What, if anything, it has to do with what happened to me, I don’t know.’

  ‘I really don’t think Senor Carrara . . . ’

  Lynn turned to the old man and smiled.

  ‘Senor Carrara is a friend. Only he can help me tell this story.’

  Luis’ eyebrows drew down in a frown but he leaned back against a stone shelf to listen to what she had to say. Peter sat down at the table also and the old man let his hand cover Lynn’s.

  ‘There is a picture in Senora Medina’s bedroom of this house as it was several years ago. Do you know anything about it?’ she said, addressing her question to Luis who shook his head. ‘Peter asked his grandmother about it but she denied all knowledge of it being the same house. She said the picture was just that, a picture. Yet Manuel will tell you that the picture in question was here in this house at one time.’

  Lynn searched the faces around her, wondering what each one was thinking.

  ‘What has this got to do with your disappearance?’

  Luis’ voice was sharp with suspicion.

  ‘I’m not quite sure, but, please, bear with me. The last time Peter and I were here, Manuel told us a story about a love affair that went wrong.’

  Here she hesitated, trying to find the right words to express her thoughts. Peter quickly related Manuel’s story to his father.

  Lynn waited until he had finished then continued with her account of what might be the truth.

  ‘Could Senora Medina have been that young wife? If Peter’s version was correct and the young niece was married off before the wife’s lover returned after which she and her husband moved away, perhaps she was carrying her lover’s child. In which case the senora would not want that knowledge made public.’

  Luis’ frown had become a darker scowl.

  ‘You would disgrace my dead wife?’ he said, with a voice that cut with diamond sharpness.

  ‘I would disgrace no-one but somebody feared me enough to have me kidnapped two nights ago.’

  One eyebrow rose, giving him a cynical expression.

  ‘I doubt that. A more likely explanation is that you were picked up for a joy ride, or whatever they call it, by mistake, and being a reluctant participant were ejected from the vehicle and left to fend for yourself. That you were lost and wandered around all night I don’t dispute, but kidnap? I think that might be a bit much for the police to believe.’

  Lynn gulped back her disenchantment of her knight on a white charger coming to rescue her and whispered, ‘If only you were right. Manuel made extensive enquiries but there was no mention of any niece being married off to a man in any village in these parts. So what happened to her? If the senora was the lady of this house and her husband died, why didn’t she wait for her lover to return? We need your help, senor,’ she said, feeling as though her heart was breaking for she did indeed love this man, no matter he should think the worst of her.

  She related to them every minute of the horror of that night and how she had nearly given up before finding Pedro’s and Juanita’s house. She told them of the kindness and care she had received since coming into Manuel’s home.

  Manuel stood up and it seemed to Lynn as though he had grown straight then he started to speak.

  ‘I am sorry that my story has caused so much trouble and I am pleased to have been of some help to the senorita in her need.’

  He paused.

  ‘I came to this house for the first time many years ago as a guest. Senor de Santos was a business associate of my father’s. I resided at an uncle’s house in the village. I saw her through an arch of water as the sun cast coloured sparks from it. I thought her to be the daughter of the house and determined to get to know her. My uncle and I had been invited for lunch and to talk business so it wasn’t until I returned home with my uncle that I discovered that she was the wife of de Santos.

  ‘Many times I watched her pass or sat at the table with them and each time my heart hardened a little more against a man of his years taking a girl half his age as a wife. In honesty, I was jealous. After a few weeks, my luck changed and my uncle and Senor de Santos left on a business trip. I wooed and won the lady, unfairly I now know, but she was willing and we shared a beautiful summer. When it came time for me to leave, I asked her to come with me but she would not leave the comfort and security of her home. Our parting was bitter. I missed her dreadfully, but that was no excuse for what happened next.

  ‘I became friendly with a serving girl and she fell pregnant with my child. Her family threw her out because she would not tell them who had done this thing. I was anxious that my father should not know so I took her to the one I truly loved, knowing that she still loved me and would not deny me help. I told her a story about the girl being a relative.

  ‘If she believed me, I do not know, but she took the girl. When I returned as I had promised to do, the house was empty. I enquired then of the villagers what had happened but no-one knew anything. I have been here ever since.’

  He hung his head as the silence in the room became uncomfortable. Luis was the first to break the silence.

  ‘You say this woman’s name was Santos,’ he said to the old man, then turned an accusing glance at Lynn. ‘My wife’s name was Mariana Medina before we married.’

  ‘Her mother’s name,’ the old man murmured.

  ‘Sorry,’ Lynn said. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Her name was Maria Isabella Medina de Santos. The women carry their mother’s name with them into marriage,’ Manuel replied.

  ‘My mother-in-law’s name is Maria Perez Medina,’ Luis spoke quietly, ‘and now I think we had all better go home.’

  ‘Before you go, senor, I would like to show you something.’

  They all trooped out of the kitchen after the old man and followed him across a moss-covered yard, through a gate and into an orchard. By the far wall they stopped and watched the old man drop to his knees. He moved to one side so they could see the wooden cross at the head of a grassy mound. Only the name Beatrix Sanchez was written there.

  ‘Who was she?’ Peter asked.

  ‘The girl who carried my child.’

  ‘Well, that clears that mystery up. She died,’ Peter whispered.

  But Luis and Lynn said nothing, just stared at the sad, little grave tucked at the back of an overgrown orchard.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lynn’s voice broke the silence inside the car as they m
ade their way back to Las Palmas.

  ‘She was buried in unconsecrated ground.’

  ‘Without the blessing of a priest,’ Luis added, a nerve pulsating at the corner of his jaw.

  ‘What about the baby?’ Peter queried from the back seat. ‘Would they have buried it with her if it died?’

  Lynn closed her eyes and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She could feel the pain and anger emanating from the man at her side. That his family should be dragged into such an questionable past would be unthinkable to him. He was so proud and she loved him so much that she felt his pain as if it were her own even if she didn’t quite see the situation as he did.

  ‘I think we all know what Manuel Carrara was suggesting so we will leave the questions until we reach the house.’

  His tone was so cold that it froze all the talk for the rest of the journey.

  Once back at the Casa Mariana, Lynn hurried up to her room and lay down on the bed to think. If it was Maria Medina who had been Manuel’s lover and her husband had died prior to the servant girl dying in childbirth say, then Maria could have fled with the baby and claimed it for her own. Much of the proof of this theory depended on dates and they would be easy enough to trace. But where did that leave the family, and what had been the point of her own kidnap attempt?

  Lynn rose and took a shower as she tended the large bruises coming out all over her body. Some smaller ones were already turning a variety of colours. She dried herself with care, spreading antiseptic cream from her holiday medical bag along the cut on her arm, then she dressed for dinner choosing a long-sleeved blouse of light green. She wore it with a tan skirt of soft jersey material and placed gold stud earrings to match the thin gold watch on her wrist.

  Luis was alone in the sala, the ladies not yet having put in an appearance and Peter was at friends for the evening, he informed her.

  ‘Have you mentioned anything?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he answered shortly.

  ‘Then perhaps you would rather I didn’t stay either. I could eat in my room.’

  He swung his gaze to meet hers.

  ‘You are as much involved in this affair as anyone and deserve some answers.’

  ‘I know, but that could come later. I think my appearance would only antagonise your . . . the senoras.’

  She saw him swallow a knot in his throat and longed to go to him and offer her comfort and understanding of how difficult the next hours were bound to be. If Maria Medina was guilty then she had done a foolish thing in keeping a child not her own. Even worse was to continue the deception after the death of Luis’ wife.

  At this point, the women entered the room and were offered drinks by Luis as Lynn took her seat by the window. He informed them of Lynn’s lucky escape and of how she had been taken care of by a couple whose home she had come across in her wanderings. The police were searching for the culprits who had snatched her and they would then find out why they had done this dreadful thing.

  The women glanced across to where Lynn was resting.

  ‘She has come to no harm. Why should the police be interested? For all we know she went willingly,’ Senora Medina said, tapping her cane on the floor.

  Sofia, looking puzzled, shook her head.

  ‘The people who gave her shelter told us a strange story about a family Santos who lived in the Casa Del Pino,’ Luis continued, ‘in the district of San Mateo.’

  Sofia’s face had paled considerably as she stared hard at Lynn.

  ‘That was where Mariana was born and where you lived before your husband died, was it not, senora?’ he addressed the old lady.

  Without flinching she replied, ‘That is correct.’

  ‘I know that Mariana was born in nineteen sixty-one but when did your husband die?’

  ‘The same year and no, he did not live to see his daughter. We went to live in Tenerife at the home of my mother’s family, which you know because you met my daughter there and brought her back here to live.’

  They stared at each other and Lynn quaked at the intensity of their locked gaze.

  ‘Senora,’ Luis said in a cool, detached voice, ‘we have reason to believe that my wife was not your legal child but the child of a servant girl left in your care when she became pregnant.’

  Sofia’s mouth had fallen open and a burst of indignation was directed straight at Luis.

  ‘How can you say such things!’

  The senora was neither pale nor beaten, her ramrod back as straight as ever and her stare as clear and direct. Lynn couldn’t help but admire her for her indomitable spirit.

  ‘I have never regretted it,’ she said in a clear voice. ‘The child had no future without me and I had no chance of a child for myself, for I had no intention of marrying again. My husband died of a heart attack while on business in Tenerife and I had him buried there. I was too ill to go to his funeral and a week later the baby was born. There was no time for a doctor and the only two servants in the house were well paid to keep quiet after the girl’s death. They buried her in the orchard. Anything else would have spoiled my plans.’

  She ignored the horrified look on her niece’s face and gave her full attention to Luis.

  ‘What about Lynn’s abduction? That was your doing also was it not and why?’ he demanded.

  ‘She was always a nuisance, poking her nose into matters that did not concern her. I thought to frighten her only. She should have had the sense to leave this house and find another job,’ the senora snapped. ‘You and Sofia were a perfect couple. After all that she has done for you over the years, you should have made her your wife. You owed it to her.’

  She shook her cane at him.

  ‘But, no, you must make eyes at this stupid, insipid English miss. Your behaviour is on an equal only with your son. But then,’ she said, her beady eyes landing on Lynn, ‘like will find like. You are neither of you of the old blood.’

  With that she signalled Sofia to help her rise and together they left the room.

  The silence stretched like elastic and only snapped them back to the present when José arrived to announce dinner. Ana did this job as a rule and Lynn did not miss the telling look on José’s face as he retreated quietly. Luis let it go and together they went in for their meal.

  Luis tried to make polite conversation during the meal and Lynn participated to the best of her ability but there was an awkwardness between them that had never been there before. Oh, there had been coldness, fury, resentment and a multitude of other emotions but never had Lynn felt the inability to help so strongly.

  ‘We will take coffee in the office,’ Luis stated at the end of the meal.

  Lynn half smiled at his presumption but preceded him down the stairs and across the courtyard to the office where José was setting out the coffee. Luis told him to leave them and after the door had closed behind the old man he turned back to the desk and served Lynn with her coffee.

  Then, taking his own cup, he moved around the desk to sit in his normal seat. The grim lines on his face gradually eased as he stared at her over the top of his cup.

  ‘You have a surprising ability to trail trouble behind you. First you try to drive over my car, then you risk your life to rescue my son. I have to bribe you to get you to come and take up what I think of as a perfectly normal position and before I can turn around you have encouraged my son to make a stand for himself, and made an enemy of the people I employed you to help. When I think I have found the solution to that problem, you get yourself kidnapped and nearly killed yet again. This time your revelations have far-reaching consequences.’

  He placed the cup back in the saucer and, steepling his fingers, raised them to support his chin. Lynn watched him like a hypnotised rabbit. Her heart thumped at twice its speed and her stomach felt so queasy it was an actual pain that would have bent her over had she been standing.

  None of this showed on her face she was sure as she said, ‘None of it was my fault.’

  He smiled and Lynn was sure she was going to
die.

  ‘What will you do now you know the truth?’ she asked.

  ‘What do you think I should do?’

  Lynn moved around restlessly in her chair. She was too old for this sort of thing.

  ‘Well, do I start looking for a new job?’

  ‘You see, there you go again, threatening to run away when I need you most.’

  She caught the glint of humour in the depth of his eyes and realised she was being teased. She couldn’t believe it, then she remembered how he had laughed while visiting the Alveras family in Teror and how it was then that she first realised that she loved him. Indignation flooded her face. How dare he tease her when there was so many questions still unanswered? He was cruel—why else would he play with her feelings like this?

  Before she knew what she intended, she had jumped to her feet and hurried across to the door. His voice halted her as her hand clenched the handle.

  ‘Nothing has changed. Peter will go to England in three weeks’ time as planned. Enrique will waste no time in marrying Sofia now she has at last agreed to his proposal.’

  ‘Enrique and Sofia are to marry?’

  ‘They are. They will live here with the Senora Santos. We will keep the ground floor for business purposes.’

  His intent gaze was unsettling her.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said with a frown. ‘We’ll stay as we are?’

  ‘No, we are not to live here. You may go back to your nursing if you wish, with a glowing reference.’

  His words hung in the air like a guillotine while time left her lips on a breath and was gone.

  ‘You are giving me notice, from when?’

  ‘I have another proposition to put to you,’ he said. ‘If I was considering marriage, a new wife would not be happy to share her home with family, legal or otherwise.’

  ‘True,’ she whispered, seeing her dreams of love between them drifting out of reach.

  ‘I would have to find a wife first, of course.’