Luna Tango (39 page)

‘I spoke to Louisa.'

He nodded and tears formed in his dark eyes.

‘She's very worried and wants to see you.'

‘It is impossible. Not until her name is cleared.' His chest rattled as he breathed.

‘She wouldn't listen to me. She's on the next plane and asked me to tell you to hold on until she gets here.'

‘Child, she shouldn't—'

‘I know but it appears you and Louisa have a lot in common, including stubbornness.'

A smile spread across his pale features. ‘Yes.'

Happy tears stung her eyes. ‘Stella confirmed Iris is your daughter.'

He caressed her chin with shaky fingers. ‘And that makes you my granddaughter. This is very good news.'

‘We could have had a lifetime together.'

‘Dani, do not let sadness contaminate the time we have left. We
have
met and I will keep you in my heart for always. You're a good girl; you love your family, that I can see.'

‘It hasn't always been that way.'

‘No matter.' He shook his head. ‘The past is the past.' He broke into a coughing fit and sat up. She passed him a clean tissue and he coughed into it. Dani tried to spot blood. There was none. She sent thanks to the Powers That Be. ‘I need you to promise me something.'

‘Anything.'

‘Open my bandoneón case and take out the sheet music.'

She reached over and clicked open the lock, thankful Carlos had grabbed it when they'd dashed to the hospital. The bandoneón lay in its velour bed, looking like it had gone through as much trauma as Roberto. Her fingers searched until the familiar rustle of paper told her she'd found it. Pulling out the tattered yellowed pages, she handed them to Roberto.

‘This is the highlight of my life's work.' He held out the sheet music so she could read the title written on the top of each page.

‘“Luna Tango”,' she said.

‘It is impossible to change your grandma's mind, that I know. I am going to check out of here but I will need your help.'

‘But you're sick!'

‘I'm dying, this is a fact, but I have no intention of perishing within these walls, God willing. I want you to film my confession and I will write it also. We will do this today.'

‘But—'

‘The documents are only a precaution. Just in case my body wins over my mind. You are to hold on to my confession until I see my Louisa, but if I pass before she arrives, you are to take it to the authorities. Do not deny a dying man his wishes.'

She smiled, in awe of his strength and determination. ‘Are you laying a guilt trip on me?'

‘Is this not what a grandparent does?' He raised his eyebrows then winked. ‘I need you to enlist the help of your friend Carlos and his musician friends. We have a show to do.'

‘I'm not so sure Carlos will be of much help.'

‘He will do as you ask,' he said with confidence.

‘Are you going to—'

‘Yes. But if I don't make it, tell my Louisa that every night I looked at the moon and thought of her.' He coughed again, this fit lasting longer than the previous one. Dani offered him water but he waved it away. ‘My Louisa's soul is entwined with mine. Although we weren't physically together, I never left her side. I never will, even when I'm no longer in this world.'

‘But you're still here.'

‘For now.' He showed no fear, only regret. ‘Just remember these words in case ...' He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug.

‘I wish I knew you better. I think we would have been excellent friends.'

‘Yes, we would.' His lips twitched into a small smile. ‘Take care of her.'

Dani nodded, finding it difficult to give words of comfort. She tried to erase any possibility of Roberto not lasting until Stella— Louisa arrived. She didn't even want to imagine that someone at passport control could realise she was Louisa Gilchrist and not Stella Kennedy. Impossible—how could they?

‘Dear girl, if I have learnt anything about life, it is this: do not give up on love, no matter how hard it gets. All the external “life” things,' he waved his hand weakly, ‘forget them. Love is what feeds our soul, and without it, we wither and die. We must stop fighting our past because if we don't, we waste our present. Go to your Carlos.'

‘But we're just friends, plus he has his own stuff going on.'

‘I may be old and sick but I am not blind. There is a connection between you two that is as wonderful as the most perfect tango.'

‘He thinks the tango is cursed and he doesn't want anything to do with me because of my tango heritage.'

‘Nonsense! The most beautiful tango is full of difficulty and tears. This is what makes it special, just like love. Do not let him walk away. Go see him then return for me.'

Louisa – 1962

Bright sun blinded Stella as she stumbled out of bed, cursed and yanked the drapes closed. Crawling under the blankets, she shivered despite the early morning heat that promised yet another sweltering summer day. Nine years on and she still couldn't get used to this Australian climate.

Iris's light footsteps padded up and down the hallway, occasionally pausing outside Stella's door. The poor child was suffering and as much as Stella wanted to be the doting mother she had always been, she could no longer give her daughter the love she so desperately craved.

It had been an uphill battle trying to balance her work as a nanny for the Martins and caring for Iris. She was grateful for the position as it gave them a roof over their heads and food in their belly and she was eternally thankful the Martins had allowed Iris to stay with her in the servants' quarters. It had all been going so well—until the trip to Europe.

Sitting up, she pulled out the letters from the drawer beside her bedside table. She thumbed through the little reminders of love Iris had sent Stella while she was away in Italy with the Martins. Stella had rejoiced every time a missive arrived adorned with love hearts and stories of schoolyard politics and these letters had helped her through the lonely moments, reminding her that each day that passed meant she was closer to returning to her daughter. It had broken both their hearts to be separated but housemaid and dear friend, Lucy, had promised to care for Iris and make sure she didn't miss any school. Besides, Stella had known the Martin children would take up all her time during the trip and with their extended Italian family in Lake Como.

The only other thing that kept Stella sane in Italy was the promise of finally tracking down Roberto's only surviving relative, the moralistic and God-fearing Great Aunt Elda. It had taken some swift talking but she'd convinced the Martins to give her the afternoon off when they'd visited Milan for a few days. From the moment she'd left the apartment that day, fear had gripped her insides and twisted so tightly she'd found it difficult to keep track of reality. Visions of Roberto flitted in and out of her mind, cocooning her with love one moment then reaching in and throwing her into a spiral of anxiety and sorrow the next.

She'd been foolish to think a distant relative of Roberto's could help locate her lost love. It had been a risk, yet this had been her only chance since leaving Brazil and it seemed crazy not to take advantage. How could she say no to fate if an opportunity presented itself on a silver platter?

For years she had tried to locate Great Aunt Elda, without success. It wasn't until she'd arrived in Italy that Stella had managed to track her down. It was probably just as well it hadn't happened before then—even if she'd possessed the old lady's address prior to this Italian visit, she would never have known what to write in the letter.
Hello, you don't know me, but I am in love with your fugitive great nephew and we have a child together. And if I may, could you please tell me where he is?
No, she needed to meet Great Aunt Elda in person and although she had agonised over what to say, she'd finally settled on a manufactured story that would result in the information she needed from the old woman, if she knew anything at all.

Unfortunately, Stella was too late.

The news of Great Aunt Elda's death had hit Stella with such force, she'd collapsed on a side street in Milan. Stella didn't even know this woman, yet she felt a strong sense of loss because once again, someone had deserted her when she needed them most. Now there was no one who could help. Stella had no idea if her lover was alive, and she lived in fear of being found by the Argentines and arrested or dying from a disease or accident, leaving Iris orphaned.

Grief and loss washed over her and it was in that moment, on her hands and knees in Milan, that Stella Kennedy made a vow that would change her life, and her daughter's, forever—she would teach Iris not to count on anyone but herself, as no one is ever a permanent fixture in another's life. Not even family. Stella's parents had mollycoddled her in London so when war broke out, she was completely unprepared for what eventuated. Her daughter's life would be different.

It had taken the return journey on the ship from Europe for Stella devise the plan to help Iris gain independence. She would encourage her daughter to study hard and gain a qualification that meant she could join the workforce in a worthy position. When the time came, Stella would convince Iris not to date, as she didn't want her daughter falling in love with a man and becoming dependent on him, because relationships only ever led to heartache. Everything Stella wanted for Iris went against society's norm, but how had the norms of society ever helped anyone, especially women?

This tough stance went against the core of Stella's being. She wanted to shower her daughter with the love of two parents. She longed to share embraces and treasured moments between mother and daughter. But Stella didn't know what the future held and the sooner Iris learned how to deal with the cruelties of the world, the better she would be in the long run. The last thing Stella ever wanted was for her beautiful girl to suffer a life of deep wounds like her mother's.

Footsteps pattered down the hall again, bringing Stella back to the present. This time Iris stopped outside the door for longer.

‘Mother?' Iris's young voice seeped through the cracks. ‘Please, may I come in?'

Unable to answer for fear of bursting into tears again, Stella remained silent.

A moment later, the footsteps took off in the direction of the back door. Guilt and self-doubt formed a heavy ball in Stella's belly. Was she doing the right thing? The disappointment that washed across her daughter's face every time Stella refused to help weighed heavily on her, but how else could Iris learn these important life lessons?

‘Roberto, love of my life, please give me the strength I need to carry on without you. I miss you every moment of every day. I long to hold you in my arms, to tell you how much I love you. I am doing the best I can for our daughter, but I live in constant fear that this is not enough. Roberto, my love, I am doing the best I can. I only hope it is sufficient.' She uttered the words in Spanish, surprised at how easily they rolled off her tongue.

A thump on the wall outside caused her to freeze and she saw Iris's shadow in the gap under the door.

‘Mother?'

Stella's face crumpled, the pain almost too much to bear. She desperately wanted to hold her beautiful girl and tell her everything would be all right but lying would just make things worse. Life, at least for her family and Roberto's, was never going to be all right.

Once more Dani climbed the staircase to Carlos's dance studio. In a short time she'd gone from complete stranger to lover, to who-knows-what with Carlos. He'd called her just after Roberto had given her strict instructions to sort things out for once and for all—it was as though he'd received a cosmic kick in the bum. She'd pleaded with Roberto to remain by his side, but he had refused, telling her he needed rest and he would do better if he knew she was heeding his advice about Carlos.

Her hand hovered over the handle for a moment before she pushed open the wooden door and stepped into a deserted dance studio. She'd worked herself into a state about seeing him and he wasn't even here.

‘Carlos?' She stuck her head through his office door, only to find the desk light on but no Carlos. Frustrated, she turned to wait on the sofa but almost slammed into him standing directly behind her. ‘Shit!'

‘Sorry.' He grasped her arm to steady her.

‘You scared the crap out of me! Why'd you sneak up?'

‘I went to get us these,' he pointed to two coffee cups on the side table next to the sofa, ‘and when I returned you were here. I didn't want to say anything because I'd much rather be doing this.'

He drew her near, his lips so lusciously close. His eyes searched hers, love, tenderness and caring shining brightly from within. The moment their lips connected, Dani's head spun, her stomach lurched and confusion, tension, hurt and hope twisted around each other, surging through her body with force. The moment he pulled away, the painful emotions she'd battled for so long dissipated and all that remained was pure love.

‘Wow,' she breathed.

‘
Sí
. Wow.' His eyes crinkled as he took her hand.

Still reeling from the energy they'd created, Dani asked, ‘I thought you wanted us over.'

‘Never. I was overwhelmed by my emotions and even though my head said I should leave because of the curse ...' He frowned, searching for words. ‘I needed time alone to get my head straight, yes? You make me confused, happy, frustrated, joyful—It all combines to make me crazy when I'm with you and depressed when I am not.'

‘So you don't believe in the curse any more?'

‘I do, but I have seen your strength and how you fight for your family. You are right, tango is not the problem, but the lies and deception are. We once said the truth made us an excellent team. We need to find that again.'