Page 142 of The Moon Sister
‘Lucía has said that if I cannot find a way to help her family leave Spain, she will go to find them herself. And we all know that, Lucía being Lucía, it is not an idle threat. She has offered to pay whatever it takes.’
Bernardo looked at Ricardo, his cousin, who shook his head. ‘Even for us it is too risky at this time.’
‘Surely between the two of you and your connections in Spain, there must be a way?’ entreated Fernanda. ‘Think if it was our mamá, Bernardo, you would do anything to help her.’
‘Sometimes I think you want me dead, woman,’ retorted Bernardo.
‘We can get them papers,’ Ricardo said, ‘but the problem is Granada itself. Between the Civil Guard and the Black Squad, they’re murdering citizens in their hundreds. They think nothing of pulling a man out onto the street and shooting him where he stands in front of his children. The city jail is overflowing and no one is safe, señor.’
‘How do you know so much about the city?’ Meñique eyed him.
‘We have a relative who arrived here at the farm from Granada only a week ago.’
‘How did he escape if the border is closed?’
‘He hid in the backs of trucks and crossed near Faro.’
‘Then there is a way,’ said Meñique.
‘There is always a way, señor,’ Ricardo countered, ‘but, to be brutal, even if we made it to the city, there is no telling whether we would find Señorita Albaycín’s family alive. Her people – the people of Sacromonte – they have even fewer friends than normal civilians, as you know.’
‘I do know, señor, but equally, they are used to that. Lucía is convinced her mother is alive and her instincts are normally right. Perhaps you could look into acquiring the papers the family might need to cross the border and think about whether you are prepared to help us.’ Meñique pulled out the stack of escudos that Lucía had stolen from her father’s hiding place. ‘I will wait to hear if you are able to make the trip.’ Meñique indicated a card on top of the heap of notes. ‘Send me a telegram with your answer.’
‘We will do our best, señor,’ Bernardo said, eyeing the heavy sack of coins, then glancing at his sister and cousin. ‘Goodbye for now.’
Three days later, Meñique received a telegram.
WE WILL GO STOP VISIT US SOON BEFORE WE LEAVE STOP BERNARDO STOP
*
Both to the rest of the troupe and in front of her enraptured audiences, Lucía betrayed nothing of her anxiety. But alone with Meñique at night, as the days ticked by and there was no word from Bernardo, she would curl into his embrace like a child in need of protection.
‘When will we hear? Every day that passes, I fear the worst.’
‘Remember.’ Meñique tipped her chin up to him. ‘In this difficult life we lead on earth, all we have is hope.’
‘Yes, I know and I must believe.Te amo, my darling.’
Meñique stroked her hair as she fell asleep in his arms, and thought that perhaps the only current blessing was that Lucía was at her most vulnerable; for the first time since he’d met her, he felt that they shared a secret fear that could not be voiced, and which bonded them. Never before had he felt he possessed her – felt the sense of togetherness that existed now as she lay in his arms. And for that at least, he was grateful.
*
It was six weeks later on a stormy day in the autumn of 1936 when a porter knocked on the door of their suite.
‘Señor, you have . . . guests waiting for you downstairs. The manager suggests they come straight up.’ The porter swallowed, looking embarrassed.
‘Of course,’ Meñique replied, handing the porter a tip for his trouble. ‘We are expecting them.’
He closed the door and went to wake Lucía, who was still asleep even though it was past two o’clock in the afternoon. Last night there had been four encores, and they had not returned home until five in the morning.
‘Pequeña, we have visitors.’
Lucía came to immediately and observed Meñique’s expression.
‘Is it them?’
‘I don’t know, he did not give their names, but . . .’
