Corruption's Price: A Spanish Deceit (9 page)

"The simple explanation is he's not my type."

"I understand. I also understand that you were concerned that he might start misbehaving while you were here. Regard me as your insurance policy. He'll be as a beautifully trained mascot in front of me."

She laughed at Marta's overt discomfort.

"Don't worry. All will be fine. I know, and you probably recognised long ago, that Alfredo is really only interested in influence now that he has the money to drive him onward. I accept that. I know my place, as does he. If he misbehaves in front of me there'll be hell to pay. Speaking of which, here he is."

Puri gestured to the car driving up from which emerged Alfredo.

After kissing Puri more tenderly and respectfully than Marta would ever have imagined, Alfredo turned to her, barely touching her cheeks. He bade both enter his house.

"I'm not staying, Alfredo. I've prepared tea, knowing your fondness for that ridiculous English afternoon habit. I've also prepared dinner, which is in the refrigerator. All you have to do is take it out and put it in the oven and, yes, there are instructions for you. There's more than enough for two. I realise you want some privacy with Marta. On the other hand, if some distraction is needed, please call me. I'm having trouble with my latest work, so would welcome being distracted myself.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Marta. I hope we'll have more time to get to know each other over the weekend. You look interesting, if you will permit me to say it. Look after her, Alfredo."

Without further fuss, Puri walked down the steps, passed both cars and, with a wave of the arm but without turning back, crossed over to her own house. She had reduced Marta to silence.

Alfredo broke that silence with, "Let me take your bags and show you to your rooms."

Marta at last found her voice: "Rooms?"

"I have a couple of guest cottages or chalets at the back, around the
huerta.
As you'll see, each has two bedrooms and a sitting room with a fire, which hopefully Puri will have lit for you. It is up to you whether you keep it going or let it die."

Marta followed him through the main house and out into an orchard dotted with a variety of fruit trees and even a small vegetable patch with raised herb garden. Alfredo ushered her into the first cottage where a fire was indeed alight with plentiful wood beside it.

"Will this do? I should warn you that mobile phone reception is not great round here. I had ADSL installed and the password is on the card on the mantelpiece. You may find it easier to use Skype or Whatsapp or something similar if you want to contact anyone. Or there's the house phone on the table in the corner.

"Make yourself comfortable. Afterwards, when it suits you, join me for some tea? As it is a fine yet cooling evening I'll probably take it on the sheltered terrace over there overlooking the
huerta
. Take your time." He departed.

In truth Marta was more dumbfounded than anxious to change or do anything. She needed time to wrap her head around her arrival, the house and cottage, but most of all Puri and her matter-of-fact disclosures about her relationship with Alfredo, including her knowledge of his persistent pursuit of herself. After Alfredo had left Marta pottered around, taking things out of her overnight case, connecting to the Internet to send her husband a message confirming that she had arrived. He would probably not notice.

Standing before the fire Marta wondered if she could be comfortable telling Puri about her 'mister'. She thought not, at least until she knew Puri better. On the other hand it would be nice to have a
confidante
in a similar situation. Was this too much to hope for?

When Marta joined Alfredo she said, "I'm speechless! This is not the 'small place near Soria' you mentioned the other day. Likewise, I was not expecting Puri or her declaration that you two are lovers."

"Ah, she told you. I suspected she would after I described your reluctance, and reasons, to stay with me alone. She is different, no?"

"You're dead right there. But what about your wife?"

"Esmeralda is really not much of this world nowadays ..."

"You mean she's ill? Something like dementia?"

"She's not ill in the medical sense, but to me she has a form of dementia. She's lost to religiosity and its rituals. Her devotions and being seen to make them are more important than me. When our daughter died she retreated into Catholicism. She's all but become
clausura,
like a nun in a closed order. Her only contact with the world is through her priests and spiritual advisers. We barely talk. The net of it is that providing I try not to rub anything in her face publicly she ignores me. That's how it's been for well over ten years."

"I'm sorry, Alfredo. I'd no idea. You've hidden all this well."

"If I have it's because I've had to. I should also apologise to you about all those passes I made over so many years. In recent times I did it mostly because I could see how it irritated you and, as I always felt sure of rejection, I felt there was little risk."

He smiled lopsidedly, wondering how she would absorb this.

For an instant Marta was outraged. Then the funny side grabbed her. She started giggling like a girl.

"You're a horrible, bad man, Alfredo! Every lunch that we've had for years and years I've waited for your pass knowing I'd have to reject it. If I'd understood I would've said 'yes' just once, if only to see the look on your face. Never mind. I really am sorry about what's happened with you and Esmeralda. She and I never hit it off but I always assumed it was through jealousy. Obviously I was wrong. Anyway, what about Puri and this place?"

"You don't like your tea? No problem. Let me show you the house and I'll tell you all. Generally we eat fairly early, at least by Madrid or Valencia standards. We still need to decide what to do and whether to ask Puri to join us."

"I think we should. I suspect you're a lucky man. I want to learn more."

Saturday: Davide

Davide, Caterina and Emilia left the piso in Malasaña to visit the bar in
Huertas
to meet Felipe and Ana. The original plan for Friday evening had turned out to be unworkable for reasons that were unclear to Caterina and Emilia. To Davide it made little difference which evening they met though he had agreed that it was probably an opportunity for some 'team building'.

Although an autumn evening, it was still warm enough to render coats unnecessary. Davide had only a light jersey around his shoulders, just in case they went anywhere with over-powerful air conditioning, a not uncommon hazard in Madrid.

Davide had estimated the walk to be no more than twenty minutes. They had chosen to go on foot rather trying to make connections via the Metro or adopting the laziness of taking a taxi. "Returning home may be different," had been Davide's last thought on the matter before setting out. His Australians had agreed.

As they walked along Emilia grumbled, "The one thing that sort of puzzles me are our numbers: two men and three women."

"That's never bothered you before," was Caterina's matter-of-fact rejoinder, attracting a snarky look from Emilia.

Over the past couple of weeks Davide had grown used to their ongoing, low level mutual antagonism. There always seemed to be a subtext that he never could quite work out. The two constants seemed to be that Caterina thought that Emilia had strange tastes in people, or something like that, while Emilia considered Caterina a prude. Never having visited Australia, never mind attending an Australian university, he was unsure whether this was some strange Aussie social ritual in which he was forever fated to be the outsider, or if it was one of those peculiar manifestations by which good friends demonstrate their affection for each other. Certainly, though the tone was invariably gently malicious, there seemed to be no persistent fall-out, fund of ill-will or dislike to prevent them from working or even living together. It was rather the opposite.

In some ways they were like two perennially complaining neighbours or sisters who could no more agree on anything than do without each other. At one stage, though by now he had pretty much dismissed this, he had even wondered if Emilia had fancied Caterina for years but was unable to say anything, while Caterina could not see it or refused to acknowledge the possibility, perhaps as a way to avoid having to say no, or perhaps yes.

As they walked through Sol he half-listened to their banter. It occurred to him that this explanation might explain some part of Caterina's behaviour to him in Rome, except for that one evening she had 'thrown' herself at him. In Madrid she had continued to be as equally proper as in Italy, apart from her arrival hug at the airport which he considered her one truly spontaneous action.

Odd, odder and odder still. He remained confused. He had no real idea what to do or what was going to happen, or even what he wanted to happen. At this rate Caterina and Emilia would finish up at ORS and leave Madrid before any resolution, desirable or otherwise.

Yet, over the past fortnight, Davide had enough self-awareness to acknowledge he would be sorrier than he liked to see them go, especially Caterina. His regard for her only went up, certainly professionally but also personally. Regarding Emilia, he was ambivalent. But, whereas Davide felt able to praise and encourage Caterina's work, he felt utterly incapable of saying anything personal to her.

Three times she had frozen him out. If that wasn't clear enough, what was? Instinctively he felt it was up to her to act, not him. Internally he sighed. There might never be a good conclusion to this.

His mental wanderings were interrupted by Emilia.

"Davide, where do we go from here?"

"I'm pretty sure we should take the second street on the right, if that is calle del Principe. That should take us to plaza de Santa Ana, which is where Felipe and I agreed to meet him and Ana. It's not far now. By the way, do either of you know if Felipe and Ana are an item outside the office?"

Both women were pretty sure that they were not. Davide asked why they seemed so sure. Caterina and Emilia exchanged glances, smiling that infuriating secret all-knowing look they often shared.

"Call it girl's intuition," replied Emilia. "No, we're not being totally fair. We've asked ourselves the same question yet neither of us have seen any of the usual signs that would indicate affection or intimacy. It's more like a distant tolerance. Plus, don't forget she must be 20 cm or more taller than him, something I don't think Felipe finds easy to handle in a woman, however attractive. In any case, why do you ask? Do you fancy her yourself?"

"Emilia!" expostulated Caterina.

Davide continued, without noticing the catch in Caterina's voice: "You're probably right. Being a man I hadn't really thought of it like that. Yet I do find the association, for want of a better description, between them strange, even knowing that she's a very distant relative of one of the owners of ORS. There always seems to be a tension between them. Could it be that he thinks he ought to be interested in the boss' relative even though he isn't? Maybe she finds herself in the same boat in reverse? Or am I being too clever by half?"

Emilia said, "I guess it could be. Maybe we'll know more by the end of the evening. From what Felipe has occasionally mentioned to us, his focus is more around those he encounters at his fitness sessions in the Retiro. I sort of feel he wants to leave his Mexican/Spanish roots behind. It's native English-speaking girls that seem to attract his attentions, especially Americans. He's not comfortable with us either, despite our best efforts."

"Intriguing. I hadn't picked up on that. Felipe mentions these Retiro gatherings more as exercise sessions rather than anything else. I know he runs a lot because he's always asking me to join him. I went once. While I enjoy an occasional jog, this was way too much like hard work. All he wanted to do was run, run, run, with no talking or any sense of pleasure or of taking in what we were running past. One time was enough for me.

"Anyhow, as you say, I'm sure that we're going to find this evening illuminating. Before you two arrived there were no evening invitations for me, only business lunches and the running. Not that I objected or object, if the truth be known."

"Is that them?" asked Caterina, pointing to a trio heading across the far side of the plaza they were entering. "If so, they're really dressed up, especially Ana. My God! Look at her! That has to be a designer dress. With those heels she must be 30 cm taller than Felipe. He looks a midget. Is that Alberto with them?"

"Oh no!" wailed Emilia. "Caterina, you said we should dress relaxed and informal. She certainly isn't, especially in
that
dress. I'm a disaster by comparison. What have you done?"

"Nothing! I didn't suggest 'relaxed and informal.' I was only repeating Felipe's exact words."

Davide smiled to himself. Women! So ostentatiously uncompetitive until they were on display. "Remember what I said about
tío
Toño. You're in Spain. Looking good is an art form as well as an opportunity."

Personally he preferred the simplicity of both the Australians to Ana's medium-short dress with its intense black on the left and dazzling white on the right. She wore it with aplomb. That she had long, well-shaped legs that were a treat to behold meant half the plaza was already admiring her. Davide had not realised just how good looking she was. The evening was already interesting and it had barely started.