Bay of Secrets (26 page)

‘Hello, Andrés,’ she said.
Shit
 …

*

‘So … ’ Tina looked from Ruby to Andrés expectantly. ‘Where did you two meet? At the Jazz Café?’ She frowned as if trying to remember when.

Ruby selected a green olive from the bowl offered by Gez. It tasted sharp and surprising on her tongue – maybe it was stuffed with anchovy. She wasn’t thrilled with Tina – she should have told her she was planning some matchmaking. But then she would have guessed that Ruby wouldn’t come.

‘I saw Ruby playing one night.’ Andrés replied to Tina but looked at Ruby. ‘And enjoyed it – very much.’

Tina seemed as if she was going to add something to this, but changed her mind.

‘Thanks.’ Ruby gave a little nod. Flattery would get him precisely nowhere.

‘She’s great, isn’t she?’ Gez smiled fondly before offering the olive dish to the others. He bent to refill Ruby’s glass, though she’d hardly touched her wine. ‘London’s loss is our gain.’

Ruby was embarrassed. ‘Actually, I hardly played in London.’

‘You have moved back here for good?’ His eyes were green but his hair was very dark – almost black.

She nodded – still wary. She didn’t want to go into what had made her come back – the death of her parents, the need to start again – not now at a dinner party and certainly not with Auction Man. But she could see he was confused – about the cottage and everything.

Tina got to her feet. ‘So where
did
you meet?’ she persisted.

He looked across at her and Ruby found herself exchanging a small smile with him. Well. She was surprising herself. ‘At an auction,’ she said. ‘He tried to steal my cottage.’

*

Over the first course of Parma ham, parmesan shavings and sun-dried tomatoes, they told the others the story, each taking it up when the other paused. Tina had placed them opposite one another, so it was easy to see where the other was going. The momentum was growing; they seemed to be on a similar wavelength – though that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? She hardly knew him. But by the end of the story – and significantly, after another glass of Sauvignon Blanc – they were all laughing.

‘It is a strange way to meet,’ Andrés said. ‘I probably should not have charged outside to speak to you like that.’ He was very formal. Was he Spanish? Italian? Ruby wasn’t sure. Though when they had got up to take their places at
Tina and Gez’s wooden table, she had noticed that he was quite tall and – she had to admit – rather attractive.

‘Why did you then?’ Ruby asked.

Tina started clearing the plates. ‘Ruby must have thought you were a right weirdo,’ she commented. ‘She didn’t know you from Adam.’

‘Adam?’ Andrés frowned.

‘It’s just an expression,’ Ruby said, sorry for teasing him. ‘Adam as in … Well.’ She blushed. ‘Adam and Eve.’

Tina raised an eyebrow. ‘Exactly,’ she said.

‘I did not want you to leave without speaking to you,’ Andrés said. ‘I recognised you from the Jazz Café as I said. I felt … ’ He paused and Ruby waited. ‘As if I knew you.’

Ruby fiddled with her wineglass. She didn’t quite know what to say to that and Tina and Gez had both disappeared into the kitchen. ‘So what will you do now?’ she asked.

‘Do?’ He raised his glass to his lips.

‘Find another cottage?’

He shrugged. ‘It will wait. There is always another cottage. But what about you, Ruby? Were you planning to live there?’

She thought of the view. ‘Oh, yes.’

‘And do all the work that needed to be done?’ He was teasing her now, she knew.

And perhaps he was right. Perhaps it had been unrealistic. It was just that she had seen that coastal view from the upstairs window and been blinded to all the things that needed doing. ‘It was just a dream,’ she said. Of her childhood, of
something that she was trying to recall, to snatch, before it was lost for ever. And now that she’d talked to Frances … Was it lost for ever? She hoped not. Just before Frances had left that night, as they stood outside the restaurant, she had handed Ruby an envelope.

‘It’s a letter from your mother,’ she said. ‘From Vivien.’

Ruby had looked at it. Her name was written in huge loopy letters on the outside – her mother’s handwriting. She swallowed hard. ‘Thank you.’ But she hadn’t opened the envelope. She still hadn’t opened it. She had put it on the mantelpiece and she looked at it every time she walked into the living room. But she hadn’t opened it. She was still too angry.

‘Ah, a dream … ’ Andrés nodded.

As if he knew all about dreams, Ruby thought. ‘I’ll find somewhere else,’ she said. It was a lovely cottage and a nostalgic dream. But clearly it wasn’t meant to be.

‘Maybe I can—’

But he was interrupted as Tina and Gez re-entered the room, armed with another bottle of wine and more plates. From the corner of her eye, Ruby sensed them exchanging glances, no doubt very pleased with themselves that their guests were getting on so well. Careful, Ruby, she thought.

‘Maybe I can help you there,’ Andrés continued.

Ruby looked across at him in surprise. He was wearing an open-necked blue shirt and jeans. His legs were stretched out under the table on to her side. She could see his boots, brown leather, loosely laced. ‘Really?’ She needed to find
somewhere to live – and the sooner the better. She needed to escape from all those ghosts.

Gez was putting out plates for their main. Tina was holding a casserole dish in giant oven gloves and she placed this in the centre of the table and took off the lid. It exhaled a gust of steam and herby wine fragrances.

‘Here we go,’ said Tina.

‘It smells yummy.’ Ruby suddenly realised how ravenous she was.

‘Good.’ Tina passed Ruby a bowl of steaming rice. ‘Just help yourself.’

Andrés dished out the beef casserole. It looked as good as it smelt – tiny shallots, neat glistening mushrooms and large chunks of beef in a rich wine-laden sauce. ‘Ruby?’

She held out her plate. ‘Thanks.’

‘Ruby’s a writer,’ Gez said. ‘A journalist. Did she tell you?’

‘No.’ The serving spoon hovered. ‘What sort of things do you write?’

‘Oh … ’ He had a slightly lopsided eye-tooth and high, almost Slavic cheekbones. And he was looking at her in a kind of intimate way that scared the hell out of her. Quickly, she looked down at the serving dish, at the brown hand holding the spoonful of beef heaven. ‘Features for magazines mostly,’ she said. ‘And songs.’

*

When she looked at her watch some time later, Ruby was surprised to see it was almost one a.m. Funny, but she’d intended to make her excuses and leave before midnight. The
evening had flown by and she’d enjoyed it. She’d talked, laughed, yes, even flirted a little. Why not? She was having fun. She felt like she’d had a wake-up call.

She looked across at Andrés who raised his glass to her. Their eyes met and this time Ruby found it hard to look away. Why on earth? She hadn’t woken up
because
of this attractive stranger. Of course not. And yet …

‘I must go.’ She got to her feet. ‘It’s been lovely.’ And she meant it. Hallelujah, she thought. ‘Thanks so much.’ She hugged Gez and Tina, not sure what to do about Andrés.

He got to his feet. ‘I could walk you home,’ he offered. ‘It’s a lovely evening. Or would you prefer to call a cab?’

Something – the prospect of going home? – had made him stiff and polite once more. Ruby smiled. ‘I can walk myself. Don’t worry.’ She picked up her bag.

‘But I insist.’ His gaze was intent. ‘A gentleman should escort a lady home, I think.’ He took her jacket from Gez who had retrieved it from the hall and held it out for her.

‘Well, OK. Thanks.’ She turned and slipped it on.

The night outside was cool on her face as she stepped out of the door. Nice, actually. She zipped up her jacket and waved a final goodbye. Gez and Tina were standing on the step watching them like fond parents. Gez’s arms were wrapped around Tina as she stood in front of him; Ruby just knew they’d have a lengthy discussion about this before they went to bed.

‘Which way?’ Andrés stood waiting on the river path.

She pointed. ‘I’ve got a torch.’ She delved into her bag to look for it.

‘That’s very organised of you. I didn’t think of it. I drove. But … ’

She nodded and produced the torch with a flourish. Yes, they’d probably all drunk far more than they’d intended.

After a moment’s hesitation, he took her hand and tucked it under his arm. An Englishman wouldn’t make such a gesture, but Ruby liked it. It felt warm and safe. She felt warm and safe. Which was equally ridiculous.
Careful, Ruby
 … she reminded herself again.

She shone the torch beam in front of them with her free hand. It didn’t illuminate much more than the sparse grass and mud that constituted the path, but should stop them falling in the river at least. ‘I was a girl guide,’ she quipped. ‘Be prepared.’

He laughed. His walking style was loping, kind of easy. She fell into his rhythm without having to try.

‘There were youth groups on the island too,’ he said. ‘Kids do all kinds of sports there. Football’s big. Tennis. Dancing.’ She felt him smile. ‘And drumming.’

‘The island?’

‘Fuerteventura in the Canary Islands.’ He said it with a kind of sadness. ‘We are
Majoreros
.’

‘
Majoreros
?’

He shrugged. ‘Natives of the place. “People who originally wore goatskin shoes” is the literal meaning of the word.’

Ruby smiled. She liked that. ‘Why did you leave?’ she asked.

It was a simple enough question and yet he was silent for
what seemed like ages. And as they walked, Ruby watched the trees which seemed to bend towards the path as though they wanted to listen to the non-conversation. The darkness was so dense that she could only sense the river. The ground flickered in front of and beneath them as if it was no longer solid. Shadows, she thought. It must be one hell of a complicated reason.

‘I did not get along well with my father,’ he said at last. ‘Something happened. We quarrelled. I came to England.’

‘To find your fortune?’ Ruby lightened her tone. He’d clearly given her the abridged version. She had the impression that Andrés’s father was not a judicious topic of conversation right now.

And sure enough, she felt him relax. ‘In my dreams.’

Dreams again, she noted. ‘You’ve done well enough at least to have been able to afford to buy a Dorset cottage,’ she pointed out.

Once again she felt his smile. He didn’t seem offended by her rather personal comment. ‘You are right, of course. There were not many opportunities for work on the island. I did some building work there, but here … There has always been plenty for me to do. I have done up houses for others – and for myself too.’

They reached the bridge and he looked over the parapet into the water, just as she had done. Ruby shone the torch. The beam seemed to dance on the surface, just for a moment and then was lost. ‘You have your own building company?’ she asked.

He turned to her in the dark. He had let go of her hand and it was utter foolishness to feel bereft. But she did. ‘It is just me,’ he said. ‘I bring others in only when I need them. An electrician, perhaps. A plumber. Most of the work I do myself.’

She couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t read him. Did it work in a different way with people of other races? she wondered. Did their varying cultural experience give them a different mindset, a disparate code? No, she thought. On the contrary. There was a familiarity about Andrés. A sameness. They had even wanted to live in the self-same cottage. What she had denied outside the town hall after the auction had actually come true; it seemed to have created some kind of a bond. Did that mean that they were going to become friends? Or … ‘Have you known Tina and Gez long?’ she asked.

He took her arm again. ‘A while.’ He shook his head. ‘Tina has produced a long line of women for me,’ he explained sadly. ‘Apart from that she is a good friend.’

Ruby smiled. Pictured that long line of women. She probably even knew some of the contenders. ‘Some men would be grateful.’

‘Perhaps,’ he said. And then: ‘Of course, I was not referring to you, Ruby.’

She acknowledged the compliment with a wry smile. But he was not ‘some men’. There was something different about him. ‘She’s been good to me too,’ she added. Sympathetic, but not over the top. Offering a shoulder, but not insisting Ruby lean on it.

The path was narrowing. There was a hedge on one side, a wall on the other. It should have felt claustrophobic, but it didn’t. ‘I expect they think I need to be dragged back to the land of the living. Hence the dinner invitation. And you.’

‘Dragged back from … ?’

A cloud edged over the moon.

The dark side, she thought. ‘My parents died a few months ago. Didn’t they tell you?’ He should have been forewarned about this particular damaged contender.

His pace slowed, but she wouldn’t let him stop now; she kept on walking.

‘You must miss them very much,’ he said.

‘It’s not so much missing them.’ Ruby found that she wanted to explain. ‘I only saw them once every couple of months.’ Living in London, she’d already made that initial break. ‘It’s more basic.’ What could she compare it to? Like a rug being lifted from beneath your feet? Like a chair being whipped from under you? You might have stopped noticing the pattern of the rug or the cushion on the chair, but you knew they were there; you took their presence for granted. You certainly noticed when you lost your balance and fell over.

But Andrés bowed his head. ‘I understand,’ he said.

And she had the feeling that he did.

After a short while the path widened out and they emerged on to the pavement. Ruby gestured towards the High Street and they crossed the road. Although there were no lights on, with the houses and parked cars the darkness
now seemed less complete, the sky more open. And as they got to the church, the cloud passed and the tower loomed in front of them, silhouetted in the moonlight. Wow …

Andrés too had paused. ‘If I could just paint this,’ he murmured.

‘You’re an artist too?’ Ruby looked at him. His face was still in shadow. She thought of Vivien, her mother. What was in that letter she had left for Ruby? And why hadn’t she told her – face to face?