Page 200 of The Moon Sister
Three days later, having borrowed a mule to attach to Ramón’s cart, he clopped off with all their possessions loaded onto it. María followed behind in the car, which she was hoping she could sell – they wouldn’t be needing it up at Sacromonte. Even though María knew that part of beinggitanowas that all homes were temporary, she could not help but mourn the loss of her belovedfincaand her time as apayo.
Ramón did his best to brighten up their cave. He whitewashed all the walls and fashioned a little courtyard to the side where they could sit outside during the long hot days. He even suggested to María that they turn the old storeroom at the back of the stable into a bathroom.
‘I cannot provide running water,’ he said, as he, María and Angelina stared at the battered tin bathtub and commode he had brought back on his cart from the junkyard in the city, ‘but we can make do with these.’
‘Gracias, Ramón.’ Angelina put her arms around him. ‘They are just as good.’
In many ways, María thought, as they sat outside together watching the sun set over the Alhambra, their move had proved less painful than she’d feared. Their old home had welcomed them back and it was comforting to be amongst friends.
The telegram had gone off to Pepe and every morning, Ramón went down to the city post office to find out if the package from America had arrived. It hadn’t.
‘At least we have the money from the car,querida, and maybe I can find some work as a labourer soon,’ Ramón reminded her.
María looked at him – his skinny body still struggling to recover from the toll the years in prison had taken.
‘Let us just hope the package arrives in the next few weeks,’ she sighed.
*
Four months on, there was still no package or word from Pepe. María had taken up her basket-weaving again, but few in the city had money to spare to buy them.
‘Can I come with you,Abuela?’ Angelina asked as María loaded the baskets onto a long stick and prepared to carry them to the central plaza. ‘Ramón can mind Isadora for a few hours and you look as if you need some help.’
‘Thank you,’ María smiled. ‘And yes, maybe your pretty face can charm me some customers.’
They set off on the long walk, María glad that summer was here. It had been a particularly wet spring – the mud running in rivulets down the mountain and creating a stink she remembered vividly from her past. Today there was a brilliant July sun and with Angelina chattering beside her, she felt a little more cheerful.
‘You’re not to worry,Abuela, the money will come, I promise,’ Angelina smiled at her as they reached the Plaza de las Pasiegas, which lay in front of the great cathedral of Granada.
‘Now then.’ Angelina looked around her, then pointed towards a spot just by the cathedral steps. ‘Mass will finish soon,’ she said, having read the board on the front door. ‘Many people will come out and perhaps they will like to buy your baskets. Señorita,’ she said, approaching apayowoman walking across the square, ‘my grandmother has made these beautiful baskets with her own hands, are you interested in buying one? They are very strong, you know,’ Angelina added.
The woman shook her head, but Angelina followed her. ‘Then how about having your fortune told?’
Again, the woman shook her head and began to walk faster.
‘But surely you wish to know if your daughter will marry the wealthy man she is courting?’ she persisted. ‘Or whether your husband will get the promotion at the office he is after?’
At this, the woman paused and turned round to Angelina, shock on her face.
‘How did you know that?’
‘Señora, for a peseta, I can know much more. Now, let me take your hand and see . . .’
María hung back and watched as Angelina traced the woman’s palm with her own small fingers and whispered secrets in her ear, having to stand on tiptoe to do so. After ten minutes or so, the woman nodded, reached into her handbag and took out her purse. She watched as the woman extracted a five-peseta note.
‘Do you have change?’ she asked Angelina.
‘Sadly, señora, I do not, but maybe you would take one of my grandmother’s baskets instead?’
The woman seemed dazed and nodded automatically as Angelina skipped over to María to retrieve a basket. ‘Gracias, señora, and I wish you and your family a long and happy life.’
‘See?’ Angelina said when the woman had gone. She flapped the note as she walked back towards María. ‘I told you you were not to worry about money.’
By the time María walked back up the winding alleys to Sacromonte, she had no baskets left to carry. In their place was a bulging pocket in her skirt, full of coins and notes.
‘I have never seen anything like it,’ María told Ramón that evening as they feasted on the blood sausages María had bought. ‘She managed to entice customer after customer to have their fortune told. And she did not even have any rosemary to give them.’ María smiled.
‘Perhaps it helped that she is a child and looks like apayo.’ Ramón shrugged.
