The Swallow and the Hummingbird(66)
‘Then you speak Italian and French too?’ Agatha asked enthusiastically. Susan nodded. ‘How lucky you are.’
‘I should go and check on Dolores,’ said Agatha, getting up. ‘Jose Antonio, why don’t you come with me?’
‘If she shouts at me I’m sending her straight back to Buenos Aires,’ he replied in a gruff voice, following her into the house. Once inside he took his wife’s arm, looked behind him to check that they were alone then hissed in Spanish, ‘What the devil happened to her face?’
Agatha shook her head. ‘She wouldn’t tell me.’
‘But you asked?’ He raised the palms of his hands to the sky.
‘Of course, I asked. What do you think I am? I’m as curious as you. I felt sorry for her. She looked so sad. I think she’s alone in Buenos Aires. I liked her. We talked all the way up in the car and yet, as much as I tried, she gave nothing away.’
‘Was she married?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘She has that wounded look in her eyes.’
‘Not as far as I know. She has no ring.’
‘That means nothing. Why has she come out here all alone? Doesn’t it strike you as odd?’
‘Not if she grew up here. Besides, she’s an independent woman with a very strong character. Very American. She’s got money. I don’t think she’s in need of protection.’
Jose Antonio narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t be fooled by what is on the outside. Still waters run deep.’
‘Maybe, but she doesn’t want to talk about it.’
‘I put money on a man. It’s either a man or a lion and I lay my bets on the former.’
Agatha chuckled. ‘We will probably never know.’ She sighed and folded her arms. ‘What a shame. She would be a beautiful woman. She’s young too. She should be married with small children.’
‘She’s come to the wrong place if she is looking for a husband. What Latin man would marry her with a face like that?’
‘Jose Antonio, may the devil strike you down,’ Agatha gasped, appalled. But she knew he was right. The men she knew were all much too obsessed with physical perfection.
‘Perhaps she doesn’t want a husband.’
‘Don’t believe it, Gorda, every woman wants a husband.’
Agatha shook her head and marched through the hall and up the stairs to where Dolores sat in bed in a baby-pink nightdress, waited on by Carlos and Agustina. When she saw Jose Antonio she smiled coyly, the smile of a flirtatious young girl.
‘May God’s blessings rain down upon you,’ she said in a velvet voice.
‘I am glad to see that you are well again,’ Jose Antonio replied politely. He noticed that she wore her grey hair down over her shoulders and thought how grotesque she looked in pink frills with her wrinkled old skin spilling over the lace collar. She smiled at him, a toothless smile full of gratitude and affection.
‘I remember when you were a little boy,’ she began. Agatha looked at her husband and raised her eyebrows. ‘You were a dear little thing. Not the big man you are now. How proud your father must be of you.’ Jose Antonio didn’t want to remind her that his father had run off with a girl half his age and settled down south in Patagonia. ‘He would have done what you did. God rain his blessings down on him too.’
‘You are being well looked after?’ he asked, edging back out of the room.
‘La señora is a generous-spirited woman. I knew that from the first moment I saw her. When you invited her to Las Dos Vizcachas to meet your family.’ She sighed with nostalgia. ‘May God rain his blessings down on her too!’ She smiled again and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Mama and Ernesto are watching over me, señor. I know because without their warning I would have died. What would you and la señora have done without me? God be praised.’
‘God be praised,’ said Jose Antonio drily, stepping out of the room and down the stairs as fast as his long legs could carry him.
They had dinner in the courtyard, beside the popping red tree. The food wasn’t as good as Dolores’, which was a shame because Jose Antonio was now unsure about employing her.
‘She’s crazy,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I could cope with her better before.’
‘At least she doesn’t mope about in that ghastly black all the time,’ said Agatha.
‘Baby-pink on a woman of her age is monstrous!’ Jose Antonio exclaimed in distaste. ‘Let’s face it, Gorda, she’s a hag who has suddenly discovered her dried-up sexuality. It is too late to revive it!’
He laughed boisterously at his own joke. The thought of Dolores’ sexuality put George off his food. It wasn’t until later, when the children and their parents had gone to bed, that George and Susan found themselves alone.