Page 172 of The Moon Sister
Lucía
Mendoza, Argentina
September 1944
Flamenco dress with train (bata de cola)
A dancing dress with a long and voluminous skirt requiring great skill to manoeuvre.
29
Meñique went out onto the terrace, squinting in the bright September sunshine. He leant against the balustrade, looking out over the vineyards that scattered the valley below and, beyond that, the snow-capped peaks of the Andes mountains. Never in his life had he breathed air as pure as this, and even at such a high altitude, the sun warmed his skin pleasantly. He loved it here.
He was ashamed to admit that Lucía’s recent misfortune had proved a godsend for him: after years of relentless touring through South America, thecuadrohad been performing in a packed theatre in Buenos Aires when, during a particularly ferociousfarruca, Lucía had stamped the stage so hard, her foot had splintered the boards.
Her ankle had been badly sprained, and the doctor warned her there would be no more dancing for good if she didn’t give it time to mend. So Lucía had at last been forced to give in and take a break. The rest of thecuadrohad disbanded for the season, travelling to their own performances across Argentina and Chile.
It was the first time in all his years with Lucía that Meñique had had her all to himself, and it had been bliss. Perhaps it was the strong painkillers she was taking, or simply the unbelievable stress she placed on her body catching up with her, but Lucía had been as calm as he’d ever known her. If they could stay like this forever, Meñique knew he would marry her tomorrow.
‘Telegram, señor.’
Renata, the maid, came out onto the terrace to hand it to him.
‘Gracias.’
He saw it was addressed to Lucía, who was dozing on her sun lounger. He opened it, simply because she would hand it to him to read anyway.
It was in English, and Meñique sat down at the table and began to decipher it.
ALL TERMS ACCEPTED STOP PASSAGE BOOKED FROM BA TO NY 11 SEPT STOP LOOK FORWARD TO GREETING YOU ALL HERE STOP SOL
‘¡Mierda!’ Meñique swore, his heart pulsing with anger. Standing up, he marched over to Lucía.
‘You have a telegram,’ he said loudly, watching her jump awake. He threw it towards her and it fluttered to the tiled terrace in the warm breeze.
‘I do?’ Lucía sat up and reached down for it. Seeing it was in English, she offered it back to him but he refused. ‘What does it say?’
‘I think you know very well, Lucía.’
‘Oh.’ She glanced back down at the telegram, searching for a word she could recognise. ‘Sol.’
‘Yes, Sol. Sol Hurok. Apparently you are going to New York.’
‘No,weare going to New York. As if I would leave you behind! You would be proud of me – I negotiated very well.’
Meñique took time to breathe deeply.
‘Did you ever think it might be a good idea to tell me what you were planning?’
‘Not until he had accepted my terms. Each time he asked me before, he snubbed you and thecuadroand only wanted me. So’ – Lucía reached her arms up to him with a big smile – ‘now Icantell you.’
Given the fact that Lucía could not read what the telegram said, Meñique surmised that the ‘terms’ had been ‘accepted’ during a couple of late-night telephone calls when Lucía had thought he was asleep.
Meñique sank slowly onto a chair; after his earlier sense of peace now despairing, for so many reasons that it would take him time to compute them all.
‘Aren’t you happy, Meñique?’ she asked him. ‘This has been my dream.’ Lucía stood up, now a bundle of nervous energy and excitement. Her little feet started tapping on the terrace. ‘Can you imagine? Finally, it is North America! South America is ours, but now we must rob La Argentinita of the true prize!’
‘So, this is all about her, is it?’ Meñique said, avoiding her gaze.
