The Spanish Uncle

by Jane Corrie

  Mary sighed inwardly. It was unfortunately the truth; as Enrique resented her intrusion, so Isabel resented Rafael's interest in Enrique and was jealous of the attention afforded him. It was this that Enrique had spotted in the way that children had of uncannily seeing through all subterfuge. It was useless trying, to fool them, as they had an inborn instinct for the truth.

  'And I don't think Grandfather' likes her either!' Enrique added for good measure.

  'Now that's quite enough of that,' replied Mary firmly. 'You ought to take a lesson from your grandfather. He treats Senorita Isabel as a guest and is always polite, and so must you be.'

  Muttering something under his breath about wishing his grandfather would throw her out, he left Mary to her ruminations and left for the bathroom.

  As Mary listened to him splashing about in the bath with just a little more fervour than usual, she knew he was working off his feelings and her lips pursed in thought as she considered this new and most unwelcome development.

  For the sake of peace she would have .to go along on the next outing, that was going to be a visit to the coast and a day out on the beach. It was an outing she would have had to attend anyway, she thought wryly. Don Emilio was keeping a watchful eye on the situation and was not likely to, accept another excuse from her as to why she should not accompany them.

  Even without this added complication, she would not have looked forward to what ought to have been a pleasurable day on the beach, but in the company of Rafael Alvarados she had no such expectation. Now she would have to cope not only with his condescending attitude, but Isabel's supercilious one as well. Not to mention acting as a buffer between Isabel and Enrique!

  Her soft lips twisted. It was just like old times, she told herself in an effort to cheer herself up. She had had plenty of practice in the past to undertake such a role, since the situation was identical to the one that had developed between Enrique and Derek.

  She frowned as she went back to that time; children were possessive, of course, but in all fairness her opinion that Derek was mostly to blame for his stubborn and intractable attitude towards Enrique was unchanged. As an adult he ought to have known better, and made an effort to ease the situation instead of continually aggravating it.

  Where Isabel was concerned, she decided to withhold judgment until she had had an opportunity of witnessing her behaviour towards Enrique. She sighed; there was no doubt that: Enrique had taken to his Uncle Rafael in a big way and had formed a strong predilection for his company, even to the extent of excluding Mary's company.

  Under those circumstances it was natural for him to bitterly resent any intrusion that took his uncle's at

  away from him, be it male or female, so perhaps, thought Mary, Isabel was not entirely to blame.

  Another thought then crossed her mind and made her lovely grey eyes take on a bleak look. There was a possibility that Enrique had firmly established his uncle in the role of 'father', possibly without realising it, for Mary had not failed to note that he accepted without question any order that Rafael gave him, and it needed only a stern word to bring instant regret if he had misbehaved and an almost fervent wish to gain his uncle's approval again.

  With anyone else she might have been worried over the possible repercussions such an alliance might bring about in course of time, but where Rafael Alvarados was concerned she had no worry, and that was strange considering the fact that she heartily disliked him.

  The knowledge that she absolutely trusted Rafael Alvarados and was utterly certain that he would never cause Enrique a moment's concern over their relationship came as a slight shock to her, and the fact that her certainty had nothing to do with Don Emilio was even more of a surprise, but an oddly welcome one, as it meant that she would have no cause to worry over Enrique's future happiness. Don Emilio was old, and although the thought was not an enjoyable one, he

  could not live forever, and Mary had at first kept this fact well to the fore as she tried to envisage Enrique's future in Spain, and a flow of relief flowed through her now at the thought that her fears had been groundless.

  She would have no cause to worry over Isabel and Enrique either, for Rafael would be quite capable of handling any altercation that erupted between them.

  When she went down to dinner that evening Mary was almost inclined to look kindly on Rafael. Now that Isabel was a guest he was duty bound to honour them with his presence at dinner, though it was hardly a duty; Mary decided, as she surreptitiously watched Isabel's playful yet purposeful attempts to hold his attention throughout the meal.

  Whether it was Isabel's attendance at the meal, or whether it had been decided that Mary should sample a typically Spanish meal, she did not know, but as each course was placed before them Don Emilio took the trouble to enlighten her on the contents of, the beautifully arranged dishes placed on the table. They consisted mainly of some kind of fish delicacies and were not, as Mary had previously assumed, highly seasoned, and she found herself enjoying her first adventure into the realms of the Spanish culinary art.

  Isabel made no attempt that evening to converse in Spanish and even went so far as to actually address a question to Mary regarding England's inclement weather and how unfortunate the people were in having to put up with such short summers.

  If it had been her intention to make Mary, feel at ease in the company, the chosen subject was hardly a tactful one. In any case, she did not give Mary a chance to answer as she then turned her attention back to Rafael, making Mary wonder if she was really in terested in the conversation or whether she was doing a little reconnaissance on Rafael's behalf regarding Mary's stated intention of returning home in due course.

  `My poor Rafael! ' went on Isabel, pouting her carmined lips at him. 'You've spent two years there. How relieved you must be to be back home again

  Rafael's dark amused eyes rested briefly on her before he replied, 'I must agree it makes me appreciate my native land. What say you, Father? I seem to remember that you were not entirely enamoured of the vagaries of the English climate.'

  Don Emilio's thoughtful eyes rested on his son but he parried a question to Mary before answering. 'And what, Mary, do you think of our summers?' He looked back at Rafael as Mary considered the question. 'If we are discussing extremes, then by all means let us not forget the effect our high temperatures must have on our visitors,' he told Rafael.

  Mary was not sure whether she ought to break in at this point and heartily endorse Don Emilio's observances, but she sensed that he had set himself upon a course of championship in her defence and was quite capable of managing without her assistance.

  But that is only for four months of the year,' retorted Isabel, determined not to be left out of the conversation. 'And providing the visitor takes precautions I don't see that it need spoil their holiday,' she looked at Mary, 'but your summers are practically nonexistent! ' She gave an exasperated shudder. 'I was over there in June two years ago, and I don't think I've ever felt so cold,' she complained.

  Mary smiled at this. `If you were expecting to find the same temperature as you have here then you would

  have been disappointed,' she commented dryly. 'Even the temperatures of our good summers don't rise to these giddy heights. But then,' she went on slowly, 'it's what you're used to, isn't it? I must admit. I felt completely drained for the first two days after I arrived, even though I did take the necessary precautions.'

  Isabel gave her a look of thinly veiled dislike before answering smugly, 'Well, as you say, it's what you're used to. I wouldn't change our sunny climate for your chilly existence.'

  `It's not always chilly,' answered Mary quietly, stung by her casual dismissal of her native land.

  `Go on, Mary,' urged Don Emilio, sensing her indignation:

  Mary looked away from him and down at the gleaming cutlery and the sparkling white damask cloth on the table in front of her, and then began to express her feelings. 'You see, I wouldn't change either. For one thing I would miss the spring.' Her love
ly eyes held no animosity as she looked back at Isabel, she was too intent on her wish to express her feelings. 'I don't think there's any other country in the world that can rival My country at that time of year.' Her eyes held a pensive look in them before she went on. 'Then there's the autumn when the leaves of the trees turn to gold. It's a country of seasons that are always changing,' she nodded at Isabel's smirk. 'Oh, yes, we have rain and fog, not to mention snow and ice in the winter, but the seasons march on and soon it's spring again. Nothing stands still, you see.'

  She turned to Don Emilio and gave him an apologetic smile. 'Although there are times when I must admit I've wished I were in a warmer climate, but even so, perpetual sunshine is just as foreign to mews a damp

  climate would be to you.' She turned her gaze back to Isabel again and vaguely noticed that she was not looking at her but at Rafael, and she doubted if she had heard one word. 'But, as I've said,' she ended lamely, feeling embarrassed now at holding forth at such length, 'it's just a question of what you're used to.'

  If Mary's attention had not been intent on Isabel she would have seen that Rafael's eyes had never left her face while she had spoken. 'Spain, then, would not appeal to you as a permanent residence?' he asked.

  Mary's eyes opened wide, and she felt rather than saw Don Emilio stiffen at the bald question. He was so determined to get rid of her, she thought indignantly, that he had not attempted to phrase the question a little more delicately—but then there was nothing delicate about Rafael Alvarados!

  Her grey eyes clashed with the dark brooding ones still watching her closely, and her eyes held the distaste she felt for his obvious wish to remove her from Seville and making no pretence of his feelings on the matter. 'I thought I'd already made that quite clear,' she answered stiffly. She ought to have left it at that, but the wish to hit back at this autocratic man made her add pithily, 'Unfortunately Enrique is still at an age that requires a mother's presence, but believe me, I shall stay no longer than is absolutely necessary!' she declared emphatically.

  There was a moment's silence after this uncharacteristic outburst of Mary's, and she closed her eyes as a feeling of contrition washed over her. How could she have let her feelings get the better of her? What must Don Emilio think of her? She swallowed and looked at him, but he was not looking at her but at Rafael, and his look spoke volumes and promised 'a confrontation

  in the not too distant future, and it was all so unnecessary, Mary thought wearily.

  `Might I remind you that Mary is our guest, my son,' Don Emilio said in a tone that spoke of regret mingled with dignity. 'I'm sure that you did not mean to imply that she was not welcome here.'

  `It's I who should apologise,' Mary broke in swiftly, not trusting Rafael to make an apology. 'The trouble is,' she said, giving Don Emilio a wan smile, 'that I'm much too independent, I've had to be in the past; and to suddenly find myself in this sort of position is irksome.' Her eyes pleaded with Don Emilio to understand. 'You must remember you once had occasion to remark on this attitude of mine.'

  Mary's ploy in wishing to avoid any further unpleasantness was successful, and the rest of the dinner passed off in a more normal if not completely harmonious atmosphere.

  After coffee had been taken in the lounge Mary's hopes of escaping to her room were forestalled by Don Emilio suggesting a game of bridge, or some such 'similar game that all were acquainted with. It was a good suggestion, Mary acknowledged, as the undertone of her dash with Rafael still hovered about them, but Isabel had no intention of spending the evening staring at a pack of cards when there was a chance of a tete a tete with Rafael, no doubt to sympathise with him on the outspokenness of the English girl, Mary thought ironically.

  It was then settled that Mary should play cards with Don Emilio, and Isabel and Rafael engaged themselves upon a board game that required little concentration apart from the throwing of the dice.

  As Chinese patience was the only game that Mary

  could play with confidence, it was the game chosen by Don Emilio, who Mary suspected would have played Snap with her if that had been the limit of her expertise with cards, such was his obvious wish to make up for her discomfort at dinner.

  Although there was a certain amount of concentration required for their game, loud shrieks from Isabel every now and again pierced through the silence and would inevitably draw Mary and Don Emilio's attention towards her and Rafael.

  On one occasion after a particularly boisterous exchange between them, Mary saw Don Emilio frown and give what she could only discern as a puzzled look to wards their table, and before long she was able to understand his bewilderment, for there was no doubt at all that Rafael was deliberately encouraging Isabel's high spirits and engaged upon what might be termed as a 'flirtatious fling' with her.

  For a man who had emphatically declared that he had no interest in the lady concerned he was acting rather out of character, Mary thought, and so apparently did Don Emilio.

  When a little later Isabel commented on the closeness of the atmosphere in the room and suggested a walk in the garden to Rafael, even Mary was surprised when Rafael fell in with this suggestion without the slightest hint of reluctance, and as she watched them go through the French windows she stole a look at Don Emilio also watching them and felt a pang of sympathy for him as she noted the exasperation and sheer annoyance his son's behaviour was causing him.

  She did not think that he was worried over the possibility of Rafael going back on his word, although his behaviour towards Isabel that evening certainly sug

  gested that he might be seriously considering it. If it came to a choice between Isabel and a Miss Allis, then the odds were very definitely in Isabel's favour, she thought with an inward smile, and that was something to be thankful for from her point of view.

  It was not long after Rafael and Isabel had left for their walk that Don Emilio asked Mary if she would mind if they made this the last game, and she willingly' agreed, not feeling too happy at the tiredness he had shown during the last two hands. A stab of remorse flowed through her at the thought of her outburst at dinner; if she had only held her temper it would have saved Don Emilio much embarrassment, but it was too late now to call back those angry words, for although he had accepted her swift intervention to prevent further trouble, she knew that he was fully aware that Rafael had been the instigator of the flare up and that it must have hurt his pride to accept her hastily thought up excuse to keep the peace.

  How could Rafael have placed his father in such an, embarrassing position? Mary wondered as she undressed and prepared herself for bed. There, was no doubt that he genuinely loved his father, yet on the subject of one Mary Allis he was as immovable as a stone wall, and had no compunction whatsoever in defying his wishes, making it patently clear that he had no time for her, guest or no guest!

  She was now back to disliking Rafael with a stronger intensity than before, and felt that Enrique had let her down badly by taking such a liking to the wretched man. How she was going to spend a whole day in his company after what appeared to be a declaration of war on both sides was beyond her.

  Confused images floated through her drowsy mind as

  she tried to envisage what the following day would bring, and she found herself wondering how her Enrique would shape up as a peacemaker should her temper get the better of her. It was strange, she thought just before she dropped off to sleep, she had never lost her temper with Derek; she had been exasperated, yes, but always in command of her emotions, but there was something about Rafael Alvarados

  The following morning Mary waited apprehensively outside the villa with Enrique shortly after seven o'clock, for the journey would take several hours and an early start was essential.

  When they heard the purring of an engine being started up behind the villa, Mary looked round for Isabel, but the large ornate doors of the residence remained shut and she wondered what kind of a mood Rafael would be in if he had to wait until Isabel deigned to put in an appearance.

&nb
sp; A few seconds later the large car slewed to a standstill beside them and firmly ensconced in the front seat sat Isabel, deceptively casually dressed in a lemon silk trouser suit, her dark hair caught up in a chignon of matching colour, making Mary wonder a little maliciously what time she had got up that morning to present such a picture of femininity.

  Enrique's gasp of indignation at the sight of Isabel sitting in the front seat was not lost on Mary, who gave an inward sigh of dejection. This was only the start, she told herself, and it promised to be a day to remember, but not for its enjoyable attributes!

  As they started to get into the car, Isabel patted the front seat between Rafael and herself and smiled at Enrique. 'Come and sir beside me,' she requested

  royally, somehow making the gesture a condescension on her part.

  Enrique looked back at Mary and then at the front seat, and that look said more than words. He would sit in the front providing Mary sat beside him.

  Although applauding his preference for her company Mary felt that he was rather overdoing it, 'I'm perfectly happy to sit in the back,' she told him firmly. 'You'll see much more if you sit in the front,' she urged him gently.

  'So will you!' stated Enrique just as firmly, and followed Mary into the back seat not even bothering to say, 'No, thank you,' to Isabel's offer.

  Shades of his Uncle Rafael, Mary thought darkly as the car swung down the drive and out on to the main road.

  In spite of a sulky Enrique and a too cheerful Isabel who did not bother to waste words on either Mary of the child, but directed all conversation to the man by her side, Mary was completely enthralled by the different aspects of the scenery in Spain.

  They passed barren land dried by the exposure of the sun, and would then suddenly come across luxuriant vineyards. These were replaced by olive groves as they travelled across the uplands that gave magnificent views of hazy blue mountains in the distance. By the time they had stopped at a tourist refuge for refreshments it was midmorning, and Mary, attending to Enrique's requirements, felt decidedly lightheaded, and she vaguely wondered if it was possible to be intoxicated with an overdose of magnificence Such an impact had the scenery had upon her. Harsh and unrelenting in the barren areas that would suddenly switch to a land of milk and honey, and, before you could as