STOLEN BAIRNS: Scottish Fiction
Page 22
Marty smiled, ‘I think we get the message.’
‘Do not worry yourselves. My mother is in her element and she has been on the telephone and has invited her sister’s two sons who live in two separate villages. This is the best way to find out whether your children are in the area. Much faster than you trying to drive around and around and you would maybe not get any information.’
Breakfast the following morning was yet another interesting meal where the visitors were introduced to toast dipped in oil with garlic and tomato rubbed on it. Beth had not wanted to refuse in case it was thought rude and had tentatively nibbled on the hunk of bread. She was pleasantly surprised and found she liked it very much. It was a very different breakfast to the thick porridge, which she was used to.
Nuria suggested that they might like to have a wander around the village. She described to them a walk which would take them up the side of the hill where they would be able to have a terrific view and an outline of the mountain range. They had set off with instructions to be back by twelve thirty; the lengthy lunch would commence about one and last they were told for several hours.
‘I think it is just as well that we are going for a long walk,’ she mumbled to Marty as they made their way along the narrow street. ‘I can’t understand why the Spanish are not the size of a house with all the food they consume.’
Marty swung his arm over her shoulder and hugged her to him. ‘Now, my darling, you could do with a bit of fattening up, you’ve been eating like a small bird since we left Aberdeen.’
‘I know, but my stomach’s full of butterflies all the time. I suppose it’s just the excitement and worry mixed together. I can’t help thinking we should be driving to the next village and having a look around rather than going for a long walk.’
‘We will tomorrow, but let’s wait and meet these other Gordillo relatives. They might be able to help us narrow the search down a bit.’
They reached the pathway which Nuria had described to them. ‘Come on, let’s use this day as a day to get fit.’
Marty pushed her in front of him and they both realised that they would certainly have a hard climb.
Once they reached the top of the hill they were breathless both from the climb and from the view. The vista in front of them was spectacular. The sun beat down and while it was warm there was still that clear chill of the mountain air. The chirp of birds broke the silence as they went about their business searching for food. Down the hillside they could make out the people tending their terraces, men bent double as they weeded their vines. The sky was such a deep blue with not a cloud in sight. In the distance the peaks of mountains still topped with the white of snow glistened and gleamed.
‘Wow, look at that. It almost takes your breath away,’ Marty whispered.
‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the children were at this very minute looking at the same view as us?’
Marty nodded. ‘Yes, wouldn’t it? On that note we better head back to meet all these relatives and see what amazing food Christina has been cooking up.’
Lunch was certainly a very noisy affair. Around the large table sat the two male cousins of Nuria: Miguel was the married of the two and his pretty young wife was heavily pregnant with their first child. The two boy’s mother, Josefina, was Christina’s older sister and she was delighted also to be caught up in such a drama. Frederico and his brother-in-law Pedro were happy to chat about their businesses. Pedro was a carpenter and between the two they were able to help each other out by recommending each other to customers.
The end of the meal would exhaust poor Nuria, as she constantly had to translate now for everyone. Her cousin Miguel could speak a little English as he had spent a couple of years on the coast working as a waiter.
The guests were extremely interested in Beth’s and Marty’s story. When Nuria translated this to them the elderly women wept while the men tut-tutted. The men agreed that they would make enquiries in their villages and put the word out that they were searching for these despicable child stealers and two small children. It could not be that difficult to locate such a couple: very few British families were living in the area.
The lunch was indeed a very lengthy affair. More and more small dishes were produced. The tapas were wonderful both in the flavours and the colour, which persuaded Beth to eat much more that she had done for several days.
They awoke to the sound of church bells the following morning. The whole village seemed to make its way along the street to the plain white church. Although neither Marty nor Beth was religious they joined the congregation. While not understanding a word of the service, this did not stop them from silently asking for help from whatever angels might be hanging around this particular church.
Later, they decided that they must at least start having a drive around the area and set off clutching a small local map which Frederico had drawn for them. They entered a couple of the villages, parked the car and wandered around hand in hand, not sure exactly whether they would be doing any good. Their ears were primed to listen out for any English voices, their eyes peered at car number plates, in the hope that the one they were seeking may just magically appear before their eyes.
They returned to Cadiar slightly dejected. Although they had not really thought that their first jaunt would end with their mission accomplished, they realised now how difficult it was going to be.
They did not sleep much that night, both tossing and turning and only falling into a deep sleep when the sun’s first rays began to emerge. They were woken with a loud knock on the door.
Nuria’s voice shouted, ‘Marty, Beth, get up quickly. Uncle Pedro’s just telephoned, he has some news.’
They did not need a second telling. Both flew out of bed, Marty quickly pulling on his trousers and pushing his arms through his jumper, while Beth just flung her dressing gown on. They flew down the hallway to the living room, where Christina was again weeping into her apron.
‘Tell us, what is it?’
Nuria was breathless with excitement. ‘Uncle Pedro has just telephoned. He told us that after he left yesterday he telephoned a few carpenters in some of the other villages. He keeps in contact with several whom he shares wood supplies with. Also, one of the men who lives in a village about thirty kilometres away says that he knows an English family who are living in the next village to them. Now, don’t get too excited as it might not be them. This family is new to the village and are staying in a house, and the house needs a lot of work done on it. Uncle Pedro’s friend has been doing some of the carpentry work for them.’
Beth thought her heart might just leap out of her chest it was beating incredibly fast. ‘Oh Marty, we must go straight there now.’
‘Wait just a moment,’ Nuria said. ‘First, you need to have some coffee then we will go. I will come too if that is alright, just in case you need someone to translate.’ Nuria was now also caught up in the drama and was determined that she wanted to be around to witness the next chapter of the young couple’s story.
It was surprising how fast you could shower, dress and eat when you had such exciting news. Marty was desperately trying to remain calm and keep a lid on Beth’s excitement.
Nuria sat in the back seat of the car and gave directions as the small vehicle weaved its way along the narrow street, leaving Christina still weeping into her apron while screeching what might have been words of encouragement.
The thirty kilometres seemed to take hours. But the village they were heading for was hidden up small tracks. When they entered it they made their way to find the carpenter’s shop. They were very thankful that Nuria had indeed accompanied them as the small thick-built carpenter had no words of English. They watched while Nuria spoke with him. There was much flinging of arms and pointing before she returned to the car.
‘He says that the house they are living in is in the next village. He told me that the owners of the house moved to England some time ago, and this man and woman bought it from them. The house needs a lot of work a
nd is not in a good state. He had suggested to the couple that they find another house to live in while they work on theirs, as he did not think it was good for the little ones to live in a damp cold house.’
Beth was shaking, she could not believe that they could be so close and was being reminded again by Marty of Des’s instructions. ‘Remember Beth, if it is them we just go and phone. Remember what Des said, we have to hold back’.
She nodded.
The village was just two kilometres further along the road. The village only consisted of a small church with no more than a dozen houses in a two street community. They had to park the car in the small car park with other cars from the village. The two streets were not wide enough for cars. There were other cars parked in the car park under the trees and, at the end tucked, just out of sight stood a white camper van. Their eyes shot to the British number plate.
‘It’s them. It’s got to be them.’ Marty found that his heart was also ready to leap out of his chest. ‘Oh my God, it is them.’
Nuria realised that she, being the oldest of the three people, and sensing the agitated state of the couple, would need to take charge.
‘Now listen, whatever you do, if we meet anyone do not say a word, let me do the talking. From what you have told me these people keep disappearing as soon as someone finds them. Just pretend we are searching for some relatives of mine. Ok?’
They nodded and followed Nuria along the small street. The carpenter had told her it was the last house on the left and that she would know it because the windows were boarded up and it looked as though it was empty. She led the small party and they walked slowly past the house. It did look almost derelict. When they came to the end of the road they took a sharp turn to the only other street in the village. There in front of them was a woman walking towards them. In each of her hands she held another small hand. On one side a small dark-haired boy dressed in blue jeans and a dark woolly jumper. On the other side a small blonde pale-faced and very dainty girl. She was also wearing trousers and a colourful striped jumper.
Beth thought her heart was going to stop. Marty held her hand very tightly and whispered, ‘Remember, keep quiet.’
They approached the woman; Nuria spoke to her in Spanish. The woman smiled and replied in broken Spanish, ‘Pardon señoría tía my Spanish is very poor, I am English.’
Beth felt Marty clench her arm. ‘Remember,’ he whispered again. Beth controlled herself and smiled down at the two children. Her eyes locked onto Stevie. It was Stevie. He looked back seemingly a bit confused. It was almost as if he was trying to remember where he had seen this woman before. She looked into the violet eyes of the little girl. Her baby, Lucy, and what she saw was like looking into a mirror, for it was her eyes looking back to her.
The moment was broken by a loud shout. ‘Maureen, who are you talking to?’ They turned to see a burly man standing at the bottom of the road. Maureen jumped almost as though she had been struck.
‘Just a lady asking about a friend of hers, they are in the wrong village I think’. She shouted back. She smiled at Nuria and almost ran along the road back towards the house. Stevie was being dragged along still looking behind him at the lady with his sister’s eyes.
Marty was not sure how he mustered the words, ‘Stay calm, stay calm,’ over and over into Beth’s ears.
‘I think we need to very, very calmly walk back towards the car. Now you both need to summon every bit of courage and acting skills you have because I am sure he will be looking.’ Nuria counselled them.
They were not sure how they managed it, nevertheless they did. They averted their eyes from the house as they passed it. Nuria chatted loudly in Spanish to reassure the man that they were Spanish and not interested in an English family in this isolated village.
When they got nearer to the car they had to really control themselves from breaking into a run. But they did not; they walked slowly along and got into the car as though they were just on a daily routine wander.
It was when they had left the village and they stopped the car just before they reached the larger village that they gave vent to their pent up emotions. Beth did not know whether to scream, cry, shout, laugh or jump for joy. She did all of them. Marty was stunned into silence. He was not sure how he felt, because he had also had the first sight of his son.
Nuria took control again. ‘Now I do not think we should stop at the next village as it is too close. We will drive to Uncle Pedro’s, his is the closest and he has a telephone. Marty, shall I drive the car? I know I should not really do so, but you look in a state of shock.’
He did clearly look shocked and without thinking about any legal consequences he handed Nuria the car keys before climbing into the back seat beside Beth. He just managed to take her into his arms before his body was racked with a deep sobbing.
Nuria wiped away her tears, composed herself, got in the driving seat and made her way slowly out of the village.
Chapter 34
It seemed to take forever to make the short drive to the village of Lopez, where Joesfina and Pedro lived.
Beth had comforted Marty and his sobs had diminished, leaving just the occasional deep shudder. They sat in the back of the small car, arms entwined, lost in their own thoughts.
Beth’s eyes were bright. It could be argued that they were almost too bright to be considered healthy.
When they reached Lopez it was very similar to all of the other villages they had come across. Nuria stopped the car outside a tall white house; on the ground level was her uncle’s workshop, on the two upper levels the living accommodation. Her cousin Miguel lived with his parents, and was also training to take over from his father, keeping the business in the family.
Josefina must have been watching out of the window as, before they could alight from the car, she was out on the balcony shouting loudly and waving her arms in welcome. Nuria’s uncle and cousin were in the middle of their lunch and rose to greet the visitors.
Nuria was quickly telling them about their find and asking whether they could use their telephone. Josefina was not a lot of help as she was weeping copiously into her apron; this seemed to be a bit of a family trait.
It was Miguel and Nuria who took control of the situation. They explained that they would need to contact the operator to make the international call to Aberdeen. Marty thanked his lucky stars for the umpteenth time that they had found such good friends. He would have never been able to undertake these tasks, he was already feeling totally overwhelmed.
It did take about five minutes before he was handed the receiver and heard the ring tones. Almost immediately the call was answered and he heard the comforting Scottish voice saying, ‘Grampian Police, can I help you?’
Marty spluttered out the request to be transferred through to either Des or Jane.
Within a few seconds he heard the familiar voice of Des. ‘It’s me, Marty. Des… We’ve found them Des; they’re here in a village about ten kilometres away from where we are.’
He heard the intake of Des’s voice as he thought on his feet as he spoke. ‘Right, now give me all the details you have, and all the telephone numbers and I will contact the police in Malaga and tell them… Ok? Now be careful you don’t want to scare them off again.’ Marty could hear the pause in his thoughts. ‘How’s Beth holding up?’ he asked.
Marty reassured him that she was doing great and keeping to his advice. Before he rang off he suggested that their friends contact the local police. Surely there must be some police up in the hills of Spain.
Nuria explained to the relatives about what the Scottish policeman had advised. Pedro leapt into action. The nearest policia were based in Orjiva, the largest and most populated village about twenty kilometres away. He knew the officers and would telephone them immediately and ask them to come to meet with them. They would be unlikely to be doing anything else as, if there were any need for police involvement, the villages often sorted out their own problems before they would notify the police.
Josefina, Pedro and Miguel all seemed to be in competition with each other to explain the story. The two policemen seemed to be trying to listen to all three and one eventually raised his hand telling them to stop.
Nuria took the opportunity of the lull to explain the circumstances. Beth and Marty looked on and occasionally the officer would turn to them, and they would nod back. Marty and Beth were hoping that Nuria was giving them the correct information.
There was a long and protracted conversation between the officers and the family, all conducted in what seemed amazingly fast and loud Spanish.
The conversation stopped and all turned towards Beth and Marty. Nuria explained. ‘The officers say that they are going to go to the village and speak with the couple.’