Page 44 of It Takes Three To Tango

“I seem to recall you had just as many as us,” I protest and get a grin from Florencio. He knows it’s true. “Perhaps you didn’t make enough,” I say, but in truth, I’m glad he’s happy to cook. We’d soon all get bored with pasta every day if I had to cook.

Over coffee, I tell them about the contract for the biography and the diaries. They both readily agree to help me with the translations. They also offer to read some of them when I explain how many there are. I think they’re keen to find any juicy gossip, but I’m just grateful for their assistance. I can’t wait to get started.

“I think I’ve found something,” Julio says down the phone, his voice hushed.

“What something?” I ask. “And why are you whispering?”

“I’m at work, in the stationery cupboard.” He gives a nervous giggle.

“Don’t get caught. Call me from home next time,” I tell him, worried that he’ll get in trouble. He’s already risking his job to help me.

“I will, but I wanted to tell you now,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’ve found an anomaly. It might be nothing, but it’s interesting enough to follow. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

He rings off before I can say thank you, so I text it instead and receive a smiley emoji in return.

I take a deep breath. While I’m hoping for some explanation of my father’s behaviour, that there could be something seriously wrong makes me nervous. I try not to think of it for the moment. I won’t know any more until Juliocalls me back, and I’d rather do something positive about my future, so I go to find Juana. I want to talk to her sister.

I blink my eyes open, stretching, and my hand hits the notebook I’d been writing in before I fell asleep. After Juana gave me her number, I called Sofia, who was very helpful and had some good advice. I still don’t know how I can turn my love of cooking into a way of sustaining myself, but she offered to let me join her and see what she does. It could be an option for the future.

“Hey.” Constantin pokes his head round my open door, looking as sleep-ridden as I do. My door was ajar, and I said if it was open, they were free to disturb me, but if it was shut, to knock.

“Hey. Come on in,” I say, inviting him over. He comes and sits next to me on the bed.

“I was going to suggest we could all siesta together.” He gives a small, hopeful smile.

“You don’t take siestas,” I laugh.

“I do when it’s very hot in summer. I even open the bar later.” He shrugs a little. “It’s starting to get warmer, so I was thinking we could start.”

“I’d really like that.” We could do with some downtime after the last couple of days. Just spend time relaxing together.

“Rafe isn’t in his room. I just checked,” he says. “I don’t think he knows the concept of siestas.”

“I don’t think he does,” I chuckle. “Shall we go find him and convince him of the benefits?”

“All of them,” Constantin says, but before he gets up, heturns back to me with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m pretty sure he has a praise kink, you know?”

“I’m almost certain he has.”

“Does he know? Should we tell him?”

“He has no idea,” I reply. “And yes, of course, we’ll tell him ... eventually.” I grin as I clamber off the bed and head to the door, Constantin’s deep laughter following behind.

We finally track him down in a room I’ve only been in once before, when I explored the house in my first few days in Barcelona. Then, I was awestruck by the photographs on the walls. Now, most of them are no longer on the walls, but arranged in a semi-circle round Rafe, who is sitting amid them on the floor. Constantin sits on a couch opposite him and I flop onto the floor, leaning back between Constantin’s legs.

“Hey guys.” He looks up at us distractedly. He’s clearly in the middle of something.

“Rafe, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Cataloguing all these photos. I want to know what’s available in case I can use any of them. Also, they might provide me with some ideas on how to structure the biography, rather than just as a linear timeline. But aren’t they beautiful?”

He holds up a picture of Estrella and Richard Burton. “I wonder what Elizabeth Taylor had to say about that?” he remarks and then brandishes another of Estrella, this time with a good-looking gentleman in ambassadorial attire. “He looks swoony, don’t you think?”

“Are you lusting after famous dead guys?” Constantin asks, idly running his fingers through my hair. I like it and lean into his touch.

Rafe looks up. “Appreciating their good looks is not lusting.”

“It kind of is,” I say with a smirk.

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