Page 191 of The Moon Sister
‘You must come soon,’ María said, a wave of weariness overtaking her. There had been so much to take in; this child’s sheer vitality and life force was almost overpowering and she was still to process the final confirmation of the loss of her sons and their families. ‘Micaela and I will arrange for us to come and collect you and take you there by car.’
‘Thank you,’ said Angelina politely. ‘Now, I must make a potion before the energy in my herbs is gone. It is for themaestra’s heart. I will make you one for your baby too,’ Angelina declared. She took her basket over to the work surface and wielded a large knife on the chopping board.
Emotional goodbyes were said and arrangements made to collect Angelina in a couple of days’ time.
‘Thank you for coming, Grandmother, Aunt,’ said Angelina as she hugged them. ‘It has made me very happy. Goodbye.’
Outside, María and Lucía walked back to the car in silence.
‘She is . . . extraordinary,’ María whispered, more to herself than her daughter.
‘She is, even if I find a nine-year-old child telling me I must stop smoking irritating,’ Lucía grimaced as she started the engine. ‘Well, at least we know what colour to crochet the baby’s blanket,’ she added with a throaty chuckle. ‘She reminds me of Chilly when he was a boy. He was always precocious. Goodness, I miss him. Another loved one we have almost certainly lost to the stinking Civil War.’
‘Should I send a telegram to your father to tell him about the death of his sons and his granddaughter? Surely he should know?’
‘Why not? Maybe his newest whore can read it to him,’ Lucía drawled, as she steered the car carefully down the narrow cobbled alleys.
‘Please,’ María sighed. ‘There’s been enough hatred and loss in both of our lives for one day. Whatever José is, he is your father and my husband.’
‘Do you even know where he is?’
‘Pepe sent me a telegram to tell me that they were going on another tour of the States next week.’
‘How did you read it, Mamá?’
‘Alejandro read it for me,’ María admitted. ‘He has offered to help me learn to read better.’
‘I told you you had a boyfriend,’ Lucía giggled, ‘which is more than I have – or,’ she said, looking down at her stomach, ‘will ever have now.’
‘You are still young, Lucía! Your life has just begun.’
‘No, Mamá. I think it is yours that has, but . . .’ Lucía paused for a moment. ‘Does Alejandro know yet we aregitanos?’ Lucía asked her.
‘No.’
‘Would it change things if he did?’
‘I don’t know, but perhaps it is safer for you and the baby if he does not.’
‘From the sound of things, better for you too.’ Lucía smiled wryly. ‘Many would say we are betraying our culture, acting likepayos– living like them too, in a normal house . . .’
‘Maybe we are,’ María sighed, ‘but when I think back to the years up there in Sacromonte, where we were treated no better than dogs, it has been pleasant to live without the prejudice. And we are still who we are inside, Lucía, no matter whether our hair is short or long, the clothes we wear, or where we live. It is . . . easier,’ María acknowledged.
‘So you do not wish to go back and live in your own cave, Mamá?’
‘I can hardly throw Micaela out on the street after all she has done to take care of Angelina. I think the arrangement suits us all.’
‘Yes, Mamá. For now, I think it does.’
32
Angelina came down to visit them at the Villa Elsa the following week. Just like Lucía when she had been younger and had visitedpayohouses with her father, Angelina had ooh-ed and aah-ed over the modern conveniences. The inside toilet and bathtub fascinated her the most, and Lucía found her peering down the toilet bowl as she pulled the long chain to flush it.
‘Would you like to take a bath?’ Lucía asked her. ‘The water is very warm.’
‘I think I would be too frightened! See how deep it is. I cannot swim and I may drown.’
‘I would stay with you to make sure you didn’t. And look,’ Lucía proffered some bubble bath she’d stolen from her stay at the Waldorf Astoria. ‘Now this really is magic.’
