“He’ll warm up, you’ll see. They’re quite an attractive group of women.”
“To an eighty-year-old,” said Rafa.
Marina opened the door and led him through the hall to the kitchen. “You have a beautiful home,” said Rafa. “It smells delicious. What is it?”
“Fig,” she replied, pointing to a glass bottle positioned on the hall table. “Every time I go past I give it a quick spray.”
“It smells very foreign.”
“I think so, too. I’m glad you like it.” She unhooked her cooking apron from the kitchen door. “Now, where’s my husband?” She called out his name. There was no reply. “He’s probably buried in the library, reading. There’s nothing he enjoys more than a good book.”
“And his boat,” Rafa added.
“And his boat.” She sighed. “It doesn’t take much to make him happy.”
She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Why don’t you sit down while I make dinner.”
“Can I do anything? I’m good at chopping onions.”
“All right. You chop the onions, and I’ll chop the tomatoes. It’ll be a team effort.”
Rafa pulled out a chair and Marina poured two glasses of wine and laid the table for three. She placed a chopping board in front of him and gave him two onions. “These are from the garden,” she said proudly, sitting opposite with her own chopping board. “We have a beautiful walled vegetable garden. Mr. Potter is a wizard with a magic touch. Look at these tomatoes.” She held them up. “Aren’t they lovely and plump? You wait, they taste so sweet. Tomorrow you must take time to look around. We have a fabulous greenhouse full of orchids, and the flowers are at their best this time of year, before everything gets overgrown and out of control.”
Rafa noticed how her eyes shone as she spoke about her garden.
“Tell me about you,” he said, peeling the first onion.
“There isn’t much to tell,” Marina replied.
“Have you always lived in Devon?”
“Yes, I’m very sheltered, really. I haven’t traveled much. We put all our energy and money into this place; there was no time to see the world.”
“Surely you’ve been to Europe?”
“Oh yes, the usual places: Italy, France, Spain, and Portugal. A week or two here or there. But I’ve never put on a rucksack and gone where my desire leads me. I’d love to do that. But I have too much commitment here, and it’s where I feel safe.”
“Do you feel unsafe when you leave it?”
She paused her knife over the last tomato. “Yes.” The honesty of her reply surprised her. She had known Rafa no more than two days, hardly sufficient time to trust him enough to divulge her fears. Yet, there was an intimacy in his eyes, an understanding, that drew her out of herself.
“You’re not content just to scratch the surface of people, are you?” she said with a smile.
“Human nature fascinates me.” He grinned bashfully. “I’m unable to stop myself …”
“Doing what?”
“Searching.”
“Are you searching for something in me?”
“Yes. You’ve created this beautiful place, in such good taste. Where does it all come from?”
She placed her hand on her heart. “Here,” she replied softly.
She stood up and filled a large saucepan with water. After sprinkling a little salt into it, she put it on the stove to bring to the boil.
“I’m afraid I upset Clementine this evening with my fascination,” he confided.
“Oh?”
“I think she’s very cross with me.”
“Well, expect it to last a few days then. When Clementine shuts down, the door stays closed for a long time.” She poured olive oil into a frying pan and warmed it on the hob.
“I like her. I regret what I said.”
“What did you say?”
He hesitated, aware of making the same mistake again, with Marina. “I simply told her not to let her past ruin her present. That nothing is ever black and white. The more experience she has, the more wisdom she has to judge her life and the people who have shaped it. The more tools she has to understand people’s motivations.” He sighed. “I was trying to encourage her to detach emotionally and see it from an adult’s perspective.”
Marina grew serious. “You’re talking about the divorce.”
“Yes. It was none of my business. But I see a wounded creature, and I want to make it better.”
Overwhelmed by a surge of gratitude and sympathy, Marina felt a sudden compulsion to touch his shoulder. She reached out and patted it. “You’re very sweet, Rafa. But it’s such a sensitive subject. I wouldn’t go there, if I were you.”