Page 69 of The Moon Sister
‘Perdón, Juana, my name is María Amaya Albaycín. I am the wife of José and the mother of Lucía.’
Juana’s lovely eyes turned towards her and surveyed her. María had never felt so bedraggled and dowdy as she did next to this exotic creature. In her flamenco heels, Juana towered over her, and despite the sheen of sweat on her smooth skin, a black curl of hair was still placed perfectly in the middle of her forehead.
‘Hola, María,’ she said. ‘Drink?’ She proffered the bottle of manzanilla that sat on the bar in the dancers’ corner.
‘No,gracias. I have come to find José and Lucía; I have some news for them. José said this was the bar where they were working.’
‘They were here, yes, but they left.’
‘Do you know where they have gone?’
‘To the Villa Rosa. They were offered more money by the manager, Miguel Borrul.’
‘How far is it?’ María said, feeling her legs go weak with relief.
‘Not far, but’ – Juana glanced at the clock on the wall – ‘I doubt you will find them still there. The child dances earlier in the evening to avoid being caught in a late night police raid.’
‘Do you know where they live?’
‘Sí, three doors away from me.’
María listened as the woman explained where she should go to find them.
‘Gracias.’ María turned and made to leave.
‘Why not go tomorrow?’ Juana’s eyes seemed to signal a warning. ‘It is late now and perhaps they’re asleep.’
‘No, I have come a long way to find them.’
Juana shrugged and offered her a cigarette, which she refused. ‘Your daughter is very talented, María; she will go far as long as the fire is not sucked out of her by her father while she is still so young. Good luck,’ she called out to her as María made her way towards the door. She looked around for Joaquin, but he had disappeared, so she left the bar.
Even though it was after midnight, the streets were crowded with drunken men who leered at her and shouted filthy expletives. She did her best to follow Juana’s instructions – she’d said it was no more than a five-minute walk away – but ended up taking a wrong turn and finding herself down a narrow passageway that led to a dead end. Turning round, a hulking figure of a man walked towards her, blocking her path.
‘Hola, señorita. How much forfollar?’ He made to grab her, but she ducked out of his way and he fell heavily against the wall.
‘¡Dios mío! ¡Dios mío!How can José have brought our daughter to live in such a place?!’
The building she was looking for was on the other side of the road, down another narrow passage. Breathing heavily, María rapped on the front door, only to be met with someone shouting at her from another window.
‘Go away! We are sleeping in here!’
María tried the door, desperate to get inside, and found it was open.
In the dim flame of the single oil lamp that lit the space, she saw she was standing in a hallway. There was a steep wooden staircase rising up in front of her.
‘Juana said the first floor, second door on the left,’ María panted, mounting the stairs as quietly as she could. The light from the lamp downstairs barely lit the floor above but she located the right door then knocked timidly. There was no response. Knocking once more, but afraid of waking up the other residents, she turned the handle, which opened easily.
A streetlamp lit the tiny room through the uncurtained windows. And there, on a mattress on the floor, lay the beloved and familiar shape of her sleeping daughter.
María swallowed down the tears of relief at the sight of her. She tiptoed across to the mattress and sank to her knees. ‘Lucía, Mamá is here,’ she whispered, not wanting to startle the child, but knowing that Lucía slept the sleep of the dead. She stroked her daughter’s tangled hair, then laid her arms around her body. Lucía smelt unwashed, the mattress smelt worse, but she didn’t care. Somehow in this huge city, amongst the kind of people who made Sacromonte’s residents seem as if they had taken holy orders, she had found her daughter.
‘Lucía.’ María gave her a little shake to encourage her into wakefulness. ‘It’s Mamá, I am here.’
Finally, Lucía stirred and opened her eyes.
‘Mamá?’ She studied her then shook her head and closed her eyes once more. ‘Am I dreaming?’
‘No! It really is me. I have come to find you and Papá.’
