Page 206 of The Moon Sister
‘He . . . is not, no. His latest girlfriend is called Juanita, but I am sure she will not last.’
‘And neither do I care if she does or doesn’t,’ María said firmly, finding it was the truth. ‘And what about you, Pepe? Do you have a girlfriend?’
‘No, Mamá, who would want me?’ he chuckled.
‘Many women! Look at you. You are handsome, talented, and still young.’
‘Maybe I am just not the marrying kind.’
‘You wait until the girls here in Sacromonte see you. You will have them queuing up at your door,’ María said as she rose. ‘Now, I must get on and make our supper. Go and see if Ramón is back with the water yet, will you?’
‘Yes, Mamá.’
As Pepe left the cave to walk down the hill, he sighed, wondering whether he should tell the truth to stop his mother trying to marry him off. But there were some things that even a mother who loved her son to the bottom of her soul could never know. The shock of what he was might kill her. He knew it was a secret he’d have to keep to himself for the rest of his life.
*
News travelled fast around the mountain, and the next day it seemed that everygitanoleft in Granada had come to María’s cave to pay their respects for La Candela, the greatest flamenco dancer to have ever been born in Sacromonte, and to attend the burial of the ashes Pepe had brought with him. At dusk, María and Angelina led the pilgrimage to the woods, the women keening and singing the mourning songs as Angelina murmured the spells to guide Lucía to the Upperworld.
Pepe held the carved wooden box that contained Lucía’s ashes in one hand, and her daughter’s small hand in his other. He looked down at Isadora, who was focusing on the path ahead of them, her eyes dry, her face sombre. He felt his heart splinter at the thought that she would never know her mother, never be held by her, never dance with her . . .
When they reached the clearing in the woods, everyone grew hushed. In the row of crosses where generations of Albaycíns had come to rest, a small plot had been prepared next to Lucía’s brothers. As Angelina intoned a prayer, Pepe and María gently settled the box into the ground and used their hands to cover it with the rich brown earth, María’s tears mixing with it.
Pepe stood and crossed himself as he looked down at Lucía’s grave.My dearest sister, he thought,you saved my life in more ways than you knew.As he walked back to Isadora and lifted her into his arms for the long walk back to the caves, he offered a silent prayer to the heavens.I swear to you, Lucía, I will care for your daughter until the day I die.
Tiggy
Sacromonte, Granada, Spain
February 2008
White stag
(Cervus elaphus)
A red deer stag with the leucistic genetic pattern, causing a reduction of pigment in hair and skin.
The rarest of creatures, they are considered messengers from the Otherworld in British folklore.
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Pepe yawned and blew his nose. ‘I think I speak enough now,’ he finished with a nod. ‘Angelina will take over, okay?’
We watched as Pepe stood up and left the terrace.
‘Poor Lucía,’ I said, dragging myself quite literally out of the ‘Otherworld’ I’d been in for the past hour. ‘She was so young.’
‘Yes, she was, but also selfish. She live just to dance. Like many truly great artists, they do not make best wives or mothers,’ said Angelina.
‘I think I can guess the secret Pepe wanted to keep from his mother,’ I said quietly.
‘Yes, I see it instant I meet him. Nowadays, is fine to be who you are – to like men, women, or sometimes both – but back then it was not. Especially in thegitanocommunity. Poor Pepe, he was born in the wrong century.’
‘So, he stayed on with you, María, Ramón and my mother in Sacromonte, yes?’
‘He did. He make his living as a guitar player. Somehow we all manage. It was poor life, but not unhappy one. And you already hear that Pepe brought with him some money from America. Also, thanks to Pepe, Isadora receive inheritance from her mother when she was eighteen years old. It is what helped the family to prosper.’
‘What do you mean?’
