Page 72 of The Moon Sister
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‘Felipe is gone?’ Lucía’s eyes were round with disbelief. ‘Where?’
‘He has become an angel, Lucía, and grown wings and flown up to be with the Blessed Virgin.’
‘Like the ones in the Abbey of Sacromonte?’
‘Yes.’
‘But they are made of stone, Mamá. Felipe isn’t.’
‘No, but I am sure that now he is flying around the skies, and perhaps he has already been to watch you dancing at the Villa Rosa.’
‘Maybe he is a pigeon, Mamá. We have lots in the plaza outside the Villa Rosa. Or a tree,’ she mused. ‘Micaela, thebruja, says we can be anything on the earth when we return. I wouldn’t like to be a tree though, because that would mean I could only wave my arms and not tap my feet.’
María gently combed Lucía’s damp hair as the child spoke. She had washed it earlier in a basin of water she’d taken from a fountain in the plaza, before patiently picking out the lice. She sighed, reflecting that it was no wonder that Lucía’s image of the afterlife was confused, given the fact that Spanishgitanoshad been forced hundreds of years ago to convert to the national religion of Catholicism, yet alongside that ran their own instilledgitanobeliefs and superstitions.
‘Whatever he is, Mamá, I hope he’s happy,’ Lucía added.
‘So do I,querida.’
‘I won’t see him again for many years, will I?’
‘No, we will all miss him and it’s very sad he is no longer with us.’
‘Mamá.’ Lucía had obviously decided it was time to change the subject. ‘Will you come and see me dance tonight at the Villa Rosa?’
‘Of course I will,querida. But I was talking to Papá last night. I think that perhaps you are a little too young to be here in Barcelona without your mamá.’
‘But I have Papá! And you could stay here with us.’
‘You do not miss Sacromonte? And Eduardo and Carlos?’ María continued to rhythmically comb her daughter’s hair.
‘Sometimes, yes, but especially you. Papá doesn’t cook, you see, and his friend Dolores doesn’t either, but they feed me at the café, as many sardines as I want. I love sardines.’ Lucía smiled happily. ‘And I am learning so much, Mamá. There is apayowho dances there, La Tanguerra, and you should see her tango andbulerías! And there is anothergitana, La Chícharra, who strips down to her petticoat when she tries to catch a flea! And Señor Miguel has a daughter who uses castanets! She has been helping me learn how to use them.Click clickthey go.’ Lucía mimicked the movement with her small fingers. ‘They tap out the beat like your feet. Do you remember Chilly? He lives here too! We are friends now, even though he is strange, and we perform together at the bar sometimes.’ Lucía’s words tumbled out in a torrent of excitement until she had to pause for breath.
María contemplated what she had just heard. ‘So you do not wish to come home to Sacromonte with me?’
‘No, Mamá, I want you and Eduardo and Carlos to come here with me and Papá.’
‘Eduardo and Carlos both work for your grandfather, Lucía. And besides, Sacromonte is our home.’
Later that afternoon, when José knocked on the door and said it was time for him and Lucía to leave for the Villa Rosa, María waved them off, saying she’d follow on later. She sat down on the stinking mattress in her daughter’s room. She had been so certain that morning that she would gather up her child and take her back to Sacromonte. But now, listening to Lucía’s passion and determination, she knew she could not do that. The child had been born to dance, and if María dragged her home, not only would Lucía be inconsolable that her future had been thwarted, but she as a mother would feel guilty for denying her the chance.
Lucía and José returned at five from the café to take an hour’s rest before the evening’s performance. María was waiting for them at the entrance to the apartment building.
‘We should talk,’ she said to José as he lingered outside to finish smoking his cheroot, while Lucía skipped up the stairs in front of them.
‘What do you wish to say to me?’
María watched as José ground the cheroot out beneath his boot, his normal swagger back in place after the high emotion of last night.
‘You have broken your sacred oath to me. From now on, we can no longer live as husband and wife.’
‘Please, María, let’s not rush into this. It has been a difficult time—’
‘That will not get better whilst we are still pretending to be together.’
‘You cannot seem to understand that everything I do is for our family, and to further Lucía’s great talent.’
