Rage (12 page)

He descended slowly, scissors in hand. He could see
Rosa from up on the first floor: she was retreating in
the direction of the living room, followed by Alvaro.
Whenever had they arrived? How come he never heard
them enter?

Alvaro caught up with Rosa in the corridor on the way
to the lounge.

"Alvaro, I beg you..." she said.

"Just a minute," Alvaro had grabbed hold of her
uniform with one hand, as if he'd just captured a thief
after a lengthy chase through the entire house. He was
out of breath.

Maria descended another floor down the main staircase into the entrance hall, hiding behind a wall at the
end of the corridor, barely a few yards' distance from
them. He peeped around the corner and saw Alvaro
grabbing Rosa. He inhaled sharply.

"Why are you trying to escape me like this?"

"Please..."

"That's quite enough of `please'. What's up with you?
Do I scare you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Alvaro... it wasn't so long ago you called me
Alvaro... So why are you scared of me, might I ask?"

"I don't want to..."

"You don't want to tell me?"

"No... Yes... I can tell you. But I don't want what..."

"You don't want what I want?"

Rosa nodded. Alvaro clicked his tongue, grabbed her
by the belt and attempted to kiss her. Rosa threw her
head back and tried to shake herself free, tugging from
side to side and struggling to break loose, but Alvaro
subdued her by force. He had buried his face in Rosa's
neck, and was kissing it violently and spasmodically, like
a vampire.

Maria emerged from his hiding place without
thinking: Alvaro had his back to him, maybe four or
five yards away. He had just taken a first step towards
him, scissors raised, when suddenly Rosa succeeded
in breaking loose. She turned on her heels and set off
running towards the library.

Maria backed off.

Alvaro straightened up, and ran his fingers around
the inside of his collar. He stayed there a few minutes,
breathing irregularly. He seemed inclined to let her go.
He took a small hip flask out of a pocket deep inside
his jacket, just a quarter bottle inside a leather sleeve,
took a large gulp and swallowed. He then dried his lips
off with the back of his hand, stowed it away again, and
paused for a moment, flicking through some papers
lying on the table. Finally he set off in the direction of
the library.

Maria followed him. The library covered a vast area,
and was filled from floor to ceiling with books with
dark spines. There was nowhere for Rosa to hide in
there, but Maria entered softly calling her name, as if
they were playing hide-and-seek. He slowly made his
way towards the door leading into the living room, and
from there continued on into the dining room.

"Rosa?" he called out.

He searched for her in the annexe to the dining
room and in the study, before finally going down the
service staircase. Maria kept one room behind him: he
only entered each room as Alvaro left it. Everything was
quiet. All his attention was focused on not missing his
footing, on not being discovered. He couldn't afford
to let himself be seen. He knew that if Alvaro spotted
him, he'd have to kill him. He would have enjoyed
killing him, but that would necessarily have spelled
his own end. What would he do if Alvaro found Rosa
and resumed the attack? It was clear that this was why
Alvaro was pursuing her, but what would he - Maria -
do if this actually happened? It was possible that Alvaro
wouldn't find her: Rosa knew every nook and cranny of
the house as well as he did. In any case, the best course
of action for Rosa was to leave the house if she wanted to escape being raped; if she was going to be intelligent
about it, she'd stay away from the villa until Senor and
Senora Blinder returned.

Just then Maria heard the sound of a door slamming.
For a moment he stood still in confusion; then he
realized it had been a door on the ground floor. Had
Rosa done what he knew she needed to do in order
to escape Alvaro? No. It wasn't the street door that
had slammed. It was the door to her bedroom. Maria
clenched his teeth with frustration: Rosa had taken
refuge in the worst possible place. And no doubt Alvaro
had heard her too. Maria could imagine him smiling...
Alvaro paused on the bottom step; he took out the
bottle again, and gulped another couple of swigs. Then
he went back out into the corridor.

Maria decided against going down the same route
again: the service staircase was narrow and dark, and
there was always the chance that Alvaro would also
retrace his steps and make a detour to catch up again
with Rosa in the kitchen, blocking her exit to the street.
That would mean Maria would have to take him on from
the front, without the least chance of hiding himself.
Rather than take this risk he ran up a flight of stairs,
along the length of an L-shaped passage, down again via
the main staircase, to reappear at the other end of the
service wing. No sign whatsoever of Alvaro.

Maria approached the door to Rosa's bedroom.
Silence. He put his ear to the door. He couldn't hear
a thing, but something told him Rosa and Alvaro must
be inside. He bent down to look through the keyhole.
There was no one inside.

He left and proceeded along the corridor on tiptoe,
pausing at every door on the way to the top of the staircase. Disconcerted, he went on up. They didn't seem to be anywhere... Where on earth could they have gone?
That was when he heard unfamiliar voices, those of
a woman and children on the ground floor... The
children had just come in and were running to and
fro. The woman scolded them, but the kids evaded
her and carried on running and shouting until a man
intervened, whom Senor Blinder asked to calm down.
Now it became possible to hear a child's sobbing.
Maria, who on hearing them enter had retreated with
his back to the wall, took a step forwards and caught a
glimpse of a blonde woman and a young man crossing
the entrance hall, dragging their suitcases behind
them.

He had seen the woman in a photograph: she was the
Blinders' daughter. The man had to be her husband,
and the children their offspring. One of the kids must
have been about fifteen. The other two - a boy and a
girl - appeared considerably younger than him, maybe
between six or eight years old.

Senora Blinder called for Rosa. Every second that
Rosa failed to appear increased her irritation. The man
deposited the suitcases at the bottom of the staircase:
it was clear they had arrived to stay for a while in the
house and they were going to install themselves on the
first floor. That was when Maria heard Rosa's voice as
she entered the room.

It was impossible to see out from his hidden position,
but he could hear her perfectly clearly, and she sounded
agitated.

"Senora Loli, what a pleasure..."

"How are you, Rosa?"

"Very well. Goodness gracious, how the children have
grown. Can this really be Esteban?"

"Wherever were you?" This was Senora Blinder.

"Esteban, come here and say hello to Rosa..." called
Loli.

"I was in the garden, Senora. I didn't hear you arrive... "

Senor Blinder told her:

"Be off now and prepare the guest room." She swivelled
round to look at her daughter. "Do you want the kids to
sleep here?" She pointed at the ground floor.

"Yes, it's probably better."

"Good afternoon, Senor Ricardo," said Rosa, greeting
Loli's husband.

Maria couldn't hear the reply, leaving him to assume
that Ricardo had responded with a shrug or a smile.

Next he heard Esteban.

"Hello, Rosa."

"My goodness, look how big you've grown..."

"It's been so long..."

"How old are you now? Fifteen?"

"Fourteen."

"So it's that long since I've seen you..." Rosa thought
aloud.

"Two years," agreed Esteban.

The smallest ones also came up to greet her. They
were talking in English. Neither Maria nor Rosa could
understand a word of what they were saying. Esteban
translated:

"Tony says he wants to eat veal escalopes. And Rita
wants to know if you'll take them out for a treat."

There followed a silence. Rosa must have been looking
at Rita's mother or father - the little girl had the same
name as Senora Blinder - in search of approval, before
promising yes. Esteban added:

"I've told her about your wonderful escalopes."

"Of course I'll make them for you..." said Rosa.

Just then, Maria heard a "hello, hello, hello", feigning
a welcome. It was Alvaro.

Senor and Senora Blinder were clearly surprised to find
Alvaro in the house. They said as much. Alvaro didn't
bother to reply, but immediately went over to say hello
once more to Loli and Ricardo. Neither they nor their
children appeared in the least pleased to find him there.
Loli asked him if he'd been asleep: his face looked as if it
had only just left the pillow, Senor Blinder commented
loudly, adding - but as if he'd really intended muttering
under his breath - that he hoped he hadn't slept in his
bed. It seemed Alvaro was in the habit of going to bed
- drunk - in his parents' bedroom. He himself had seen
him there on at least one occasion - and this was a source
of annoyance to Senor Blinder.

But Maria knew perfectly well that Alvaro hadn't been
sleeping... Why on earth had his sister told him his face
looked "as if it had just left the pillow"? Alvaro began
trying to tell his father that he hadn't been asleep,
that really he'd been... But Maria couldn't overhear
the remainder of his answer because Rosa had started
climbing the stairs hauling up one of the suitcases,
leaving him no option but to get out of the way. He was
certain that Rosa had left the living room deliberately,
as soon as Alvaro had entered it.

13

That was on the 21st December. Over the next three
days, Maria learned a number of new things: that Loli
and Ricardo lived in London; that neither of them were
smokers (although Esteban, the fourteen-year-old, was,
except he was always out of cigarettes); that the other two children spoke scarcely any Spanish and, to revert to
Esteban again, that he got on extremely well with Rosa. It
was on a previous visit, when Rosa had only been working
in the villa for a few months, that Esteban had become such
great friends with her. Esteban was only twelve at the time,
with no one to open up to (in either global hemisphere),
and had made Rosa his chosen confidante. It seemed he
had revealed some kind of an intimate secret to her. Maria
never discovered what it was about, but it was a closer bond
even than friendship between the two of them.

"So how are you?" Esteban enquired of Rosa, one day
when the two of them were alone in the kitchen together.

"Fine. And you?"

"Fantastic. Do you know what? What I wanted you
to know," said Esteban - he was an Argentine living in
London, but he'd spent most of his short life in Spain
- "was that I've never stopped thinking about you for a
single day."

"You?" asked Rosa, suddenly startled. "About me?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Don't laugh. It's true: I've thought about you every
day of my life."

"You're making fun of me..."

"Come off it. Do you mean the same thing hasn't
occurred to you?"

"You're talking like a screen lover! "

"That's nice of you."

"No, I'm serious! You're talking as if you were a film
star..."

"If you say so..."

Silence.

A moment later, Esteban spoke out gravely:

"Naturally, I've also thought of suicide. But don't get
alarmed: it wasn't you who saved me; it was I myself,
because at those moments I had the good luck to think
of you."

"What a poet you are..." Rosa commented.

"I've been published."

"Really?"

"No, that's a joke. But I'm writing it down. Writing all
of it, every single detail of what passed between us, every
least..."

"Tell me that's not true!" Rosa interrupted. Esteban
bunched his fingers in the sign of the cross, and kissed
them.

Rosa grew indignant:

"You'll get me thrown out!"

"I'll make you famous."

Silence.

"It is a joke, isn't it?"

"You tell me if you remembered me, and I'll tell you
whether or not it's a joke."

Silence.

"Yes, you know it's true," Rosa finally said. "Now tell me
yourself: is it a joke?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was?"

Silence.

Followed by giggles.

Maria couldn't see nor hear him, but in his head
he visualized Esteban and Rosa emerging from a long
embrace. A second later and the two of them were laughing
and chatting at high speed, without either accusations or
histrionics.

Maria was overcome with fascination. What had taken
place between the pair of them? The serenity and selfconfidence demonstrated by Esteban had made him think (more than was suggested by what he was saying)
that he was dealing with a lad too clever for his years.
Soon he'd also be thinking that within the panorama
of his true intentions towards Rosa, friendship didn't
feature much larger than a peanut. Jealousy was to
come later. For the time being, he was extremely busy
processing fresh information.

For a start, cohabitation (as Maria called it, despite
never having been invited in) had become extremely
difficult. Since there were now so many more occupants
in the house, basic and essential acts, such as going to
the toilet or the kitchen, demanded an exhausting
degree of attentiveness. And he couldn't even sleep
well, for fear that one or another of the little kids would
decide to conduct an exploration of the house. The
house scared and tempted them in equal measures.
Even the rat seemed stressed out. Lack of sleep,
irregular eating habits, a constant state of alertness... it
was too much. Every hour seemed like a century. And it
already appeared they were going to stay into the new
year! And to cap it all - and this was worst of it - he
still hadn't managed to find out what had taken place
between Alvaro and Rosa.