Dancing in the Shadows Read online

  ‘How old are you Isabel?’ Dorcas asked unexpectedly.

  ‘That is an odd question,’ said Isabel. ‘I have eighteen years.’

  ‘You’re only a child.’

  ‘I wish I were. Two grown men wouldn’t fight over a child.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Dorcas said slowly.

  ‘You mean you didn’t know?’

  ‘Silly of me, but no. Isn’t that ridiculous? I should have known. I’m sure I would have got round to it eventually. Carlos said Michael and Señor Garcia were fighting over a woman. I assumed it was Señor Garcia’s woman.’

  ‘You assumed right.’ Two bright blobs of colour invaded Isabel’s cheeks. She put her fingers up, as if to rub the colour out, and said with touching dignity and just a feather stirring of wistfulness: ‘It was never Carlos. I never pretended to you that it was. It has been Paco for as long as I can remember. Paco is a valued employee of Papa’s. Yet Papa would never acknowledge Paco as a husband for me. Paco knew that Carlos must have first claim.’

  ‘Did you resent this?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I’m not quite sure I know myself. But . . . because you knew that Paco would never fight with Carlos for you, did you purposely provoke him by flirting with Michael?’

  ‘That is not a kind thing to say.’

  Dorcas could have said, this is not a kind thing to have happened to Michael. But she said: ‘You are quite right, Isabel. I spoke without thinking. I’m not blaming you for what happened.’ Her words said one thing; the lack of conviction in her tone, another.

  Isabel gave a small tormented sigh. ‘Your brother is gravely ill. Of course you want to kick at me. But it is not true that I deliberately set out to flirt with him. At first, perhaps, a little . . . but then I fight to resist his advances. This I find difficult, because I have the powerful fascination for him. You see this?’

  ‘Only too well. My brother is a fascinating person.’

  Dorcas remembered how thin the dividing line was between love and fascination. If Isabel could name the emotion she felt for Michael as infatuation and not love, she had achieved something that perplexed older and more worldly women.

  A hand touched Dorcas’s. She lifted her eyes to see Carlos looking down at her.

  ‘The doctor is here. I must ask everyone to leave the room while he makes his examination.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Dorcas, getting quickly to her feet.

  The sad little party huddled in groups in the sala. Instinctively, Dorcas and Isabel moved out to the terrace for privacy. The chilly night air had a bracing, invigorating effect.

  The compulsion in Isabel was to talk. Dorcas let her.

  ‘At first when Michael asks me to go out with him for the evening, I say no. But he keeps asking, and I am weak. I think, what harm can it do? And then, it is as if I have not the mind to think with. I am bewitched. I hide my feelings from Mama and Papa, but not from Paco. Many times Paco tries to reason with me. He says I am hurting myself. That hardly seems to matter. What does matter, what troubles me is that I am hurting Paco. It has long been Papa’s wish that I marry Carlos. This Paco understands. What he cannot understand—and I cannot explain it to myself, never mind to him—is this wildness that has entered my blood for Michael. I have not realized until this moment the selflessness of Paco’s love for me. He wants only what is best for me. And I have brought this dreadful trouble on him.’

  She paused to swallow. Her eyes were full of pain, and Dorcas thought, if she grips her hands any harder the bones will break.

  ‘It is most unfortunate that Paco should also choose to dine at Las Palmeras this evening. Michael said he wished to sample the famous pollo, the chicken, which is brought to the table in a sealed clay pot. Michael made fun of the sarcophagus-like shape of the pot. The ritual of serving this speciality dish is taken very seriously. Michael had been drinking heavily. He wasn’t in the mood to take anything seriously. He made jokes that were in bad taste. I tried to shut him up, but it was impossible. In my foolishness I was glad when Paco intervened. Perhaps I asked him to. Oh, not in so many words, but I think perhaps my eyes signalled a message to where he was sitting a few tables away. He threw down his napkin and came striding over to our table. He was very angry, but in a controlled sort of way. I was so proud of him. He politely asked Michael to conduct himself in a more seemly manner. He said Michael should consider the dignity of my position. Michael laughed in his face. He said terrible things to Paco. Things no man of honour could accept. He insulted his manhood. It was horrible . . . horrible. Paco was goaded into doing what he did. He picked up the mallet and brought it down on Michael’s head, but his is the least guilt. Michael and I are the guilty ones. So you see, don’t you, that I could not let Paco take the blame?’

  ‘Yes. But I don’t see how you could prevent it.’

  ‘When the manager said he was going to telephone the policia, I asked him not to. I asked him what all the fuss was about. I said that Michael had lost his balance while getting to his feet and had struck his head on the edge of the table, which was hardly a matter for the police. The manager, poor man, looked quite relieved. Not unnaturally he didn’t want the guardia poking around. It would give the place a bad name. Although what Michael will say when . . .’

  If he comes round, thought Dorcas. Aloud she said: ‘He will say you did right.’ Her voice sounded dry even to herself. ‘My brother has never been too keen on police intervention.’

  The hands that had been so tightly gripping each other, reached out and took Dorcas’s. Instant tears came to Isabel’s eyes. ‘How very generous of you. What can I say but thank you.’ Her gratitude that Dorcas understood was heartfelt and flowed from her, as unimpeded as the tears now coursing freely down her cheeks. ‘I expected to be scolded for trying to protect Paco. And instead . . .’

  ‘Instead I am going to scold you for thinking I would react differently. I love my brother dearly, but I am not blinded to his faults. I can well believe that Paco acted under stress and provocation.’ Had Michael taunted Paco for standing meekly to one side while Carlos took his girl? Had he accused him of not being a man? It was not difficult to imagine the sort of thing Michael had said. Dorcas sighed. ‘You are right in saying the guilt is not his, but I think you might have a hard time convincing him. You must go to Paco at once. He needs your support and comfort.’

  ‘Yes . . . yes. I must go to Paco. And not just for the moment, either. I’ve been such an idiot in thinking I could make a life with someone else. How would it please Papa to see me unhappy? Papa who loves me and wants only my happiness will have to see that Paco is the only man for me. Do you realize what this means, Dorcas? It means that Carlos will be free to court you.’

  ‘I have just this second digested that fact. I hope you don’t think I said what I did to suit my own purpose?’

  ‘Of course not! Who’s being an idiot now? Oh, Dorcas, I’m so ashamed. I should feel miserable. Instead I feel happy.’

  ‘You’re being an idiot now, that’s who. There’s nothing to feel miserable about. Michael is going to get better.’

  ‘You’re an angel. Please, please be right about Michael. I hope things go well with you and Carlos.’

  Isabel’s long skirt brushed against Dorcas’s ankle. She hastened inside to find Paco, drying her tears as she went.

  Dorcas sat on for only a hand-count of seconds before she too went inside. In the sala, she saw that Isabel had gone to Paco. Even as Dorcas watched, Isabel’s fingers wound themselves round his. Paco’s startled reaction was reflected in his eyes. He knew Isabel was making a declaration; he seemed uncertain whether to let her. At least, that’s how it seemed to Dorcas. Towering above the two sitting figures—as if he had just that moment risen to give Isabel his seat—Carlos wore a troubled look. His quick intelligence would have summed up the situation. With dropping dismay, Dorcas saw how his expression searched down into a frown.

  Oh, Carlos, no! Oh, my love. Not you
! Sometimes it happens that way. Feelings are discovered too late. The realization that you love someone coming when the loved-one is lost to you. But it didn’t happen to well integrated people like Carlos. The fact that she would have staked her reputation on Carlos’s clear-sighted judgement made it all the harder to bear.

  It was the dangling carrot that was so edibly and sweetly within reach. Her teeth had scraped its surface; this time it had seemed impossible for happiness to be denied her but, just like all the other times, at the very last moment was it to be snatched away from her? And yet, those other disappointments were but trivial pin-pricks in comparison with her disappointment now.

  She hadn’t realized she was parading her misery for everyone to see, until a kindly voice said: ‘Come sit by me, dear.’

  Following the direction of the voice, Dorcas found herself looking into Rose Ruiz’s concerned eyes. Her fingers were taken, tightly held.

  ‘Your hand is just like a peg of ice. That will be the shock.’

  Yes, it was the shock. Although why it should come as so much of a shock she didn’t know. Even the most clear-sighted person has the odd blind spot. And, goodness, hadn’t she wondered often enough how Carlos could look at someone as incredibly lovely as Isabel and be indifferent to her!

  ‘Your devotion does you credit, child, but you must not allow yourself to give way to grief. You must be strong.’

  ‘I did not know I was so transparent. I promise to do better. I have no intention of giving way.’ To prove it, Dorcas put on a brave smile.

  ‘Good girl. That smile will be Michael’s best recovery aid.’

  That shock! Nothing should have taken precedence over concern for Michael’s grave condition. It seemed especially shameful that her mind had been so selfishly occupied.

  Totally mistaking her stricken look, Rose Ruiz piled on the approbation. ‘Michael is very lucky. I can hardly think he is deserving of such a caring sister.’

  Dorcas firmly contained her shame behind sealed lips. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell—just the opposite. Confession would have absolved a tiny portion of her guilt. There wasn’t time to tell. Not with Carlos bearing down on them.

  ‘Isabel’s parents will be wondering where she is,’ Carlos said, demonstrating his usual thought for others.

  A frown crossed Rose Ruiz’s brow. ‘You are so practical, Carlos. That thought never occurred to me. I’ll telephone straight away to let them know what has happened.’

  ‘Have you forgotten it is not possible to dial direct? The switchboard operator listens in. It would be served up in every home with the breakfast rolls.’

  ‘M’m. You are so right. So—I’ll send word with one of the servants. Now, who has the most tactful tongue? I don’t want a garbled version passed on that might cause alarm.’

  ‘The only tongue I can guarantee is my own. I’ll go.’

  ‘No, Carlos, I won’t allow it. You’ve already had that long drive home. I don’t know why you didn’t wait until morning. Providence must have guided your choice, because I don’t know what we would have done without you. You’ve been a tower of strength, but you can’t be expected to do more. You look worn out.’

  Rose Ruiz was right. Whether or not Carlos had been successful in his quest to stabilize the family business, the effort he’d put in had taken its toll. There was a stark, staring blankness about his eyes. He looked like a man who has not slept for a week, or a man in deep shock.

  ‘You fuss too much,’ was all he said.

  Impulsively, Dorcas said: ‘Let me go with you.’

  Rose Ruiz backed up this suggestion. ‘Yes, if you insist on going, then at least take Dorcas with you.’

  With a slow, robot-like movement, his head turned round to Dorcas. How cold his eyes were. Coldly condemning. This puzzled her. Cold indifference she could have understood from a man so recently jolted into a change of heart. Guilt, even, because he had led her on a bit. His guilt, not hers. Yet his eyes accused her.

  She fully expected him to reject her offer to accompany him. Yet it was the flavour of his acceptance that surprised her even more than the acceptance itself.

  ‘Why not? No fear of my falling asleep over the wheel. With you by my side I’ll need to keep alert.’ The scorn in his voice was unbelievable. ‘Don’t you want to wait to hear what the doctor has to say about Michael?’

  Was it concern or sarcasm that motivated this question? Dorcas was too baffled by Carlos’s change of manner to tell.

  ‘I can’t alter the doctor’s verdict. It will wait until I get back.’

  She got to her feet. The contact of her dressing gown against her ankles reminded her that she must first go upstairs to dress. Carlos guided her to the foot of the stairs without speaking.

  On the first stair she turned her head and their eyes met. He hadn’t expected her to look back and his unguarded expression was hurt and questioning.

  ‘Carlos?’ she said, the bright burning blood of confusion rushing to her cheeks. ‘What is it? Please tell me.’

  ‘Tell you what? That I have made a gigantic fool of myself by falling in love with a woman I thought to be quite perfect. Do you want it in gruesome detail that my love led me to believe she felt the same way, when all the time her heart was given to another. Even though everything about her, every sweet and loving look and gesture denied it, her interest in me was a pretence. Can you look me in the eye, Dorcas, and tell me truthfully this is not so.’

  Dorcas dipped her head. Of course she could not. What she ought to tell him was that although Isabel had been foolish in thinking she could marry to forge a business alliance, she hadn’t deliberately set out to delude him, but to please her father. An act of daughterly obedience that Carlos would surely understand.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dorcas said from the bottom of her heart. Sorry that Carlos had ever found out he loved Isabel. If only the discovery could have stayed hidden long enough for her to have made her mark on his affections, then perhaps he would have turned to her for warmth. If, instead of being scared silly that Carlos would think her mercenary, thanks to Michael’s silly scheming and sly innuendos, she’d encouraged him . . .who knows?

  The look of disgust he gave her shamed her and made her wonder if he could read her thoughts.

  ‘It is true, then? Even when Paco told me, I hoped that by some miracle it was a lie.’

  ‘Paco told you!’

  She was surprised at Paco’s forthrightness. It had been firmly fixed in her mind that he had made the observation himself by seeing them together. She thought he had identified the loving look Isabel had given Paco as an open declaration of her feelings.

  The compulsion to comfort was great. Greater than her shame, greater than the risk of humiliation in rejection. Her hand reached out to touch his cheek, but it was grasped at the wrist. She felt herself being propelled none too gently forward.

  ‘Have a care, Dorcas. We are playing a different game now, with a different set of rules to observe.’

  ‘I don’t understand. I know you’ve been hurt, but I don’t understand why you want to hurt me.’ Although his fingers cut cruelly into her wrist, it was the mental anguish she referred to. Her lashes met; she didn’t want him to see the weakness of tears.

  She didn’t see the expression in his eyes, but she heard the bitterness and contempt in his voice. ‘Michael said your hope of being a great dancer was ruined. Doesn’t he know you have it in you to be a greater actress than you could ever be a dancer? You are giving an Oscar performance.’

  ‘I am not acting. I never wanted anything from you, anything material that is.’

  ‘Ah yes! The pride your brother spoke of. He said I would have to find a more subtle way of rewarding you for the act of courage that saved Feli and Rosita at such high personal cost. He said you were an attractive, nicely constructed . . . quite so,’ he said, lingering there for the time it took his eyes to leave her face and make an insulting all-over survey. ‘ . . . warm-hearted girl.’ It was her c
heeks that were warming at the manner of his inspection. ‘Surely it would not be too difficult? he said. I asked him to stop hinting and come right out with it. He said that in keeping with most caring brothers, it was his wish to see his sister happily married.’

  ‘I’ll match my brother’s bluntness. We both know Michael only cares about himself. It would suit him to have a rich brother-in-law. But this isn’t something new to you. You’ve known Michael’s attitude all along. It’s never made you bitter before. You’ve even laughed about it.’

  ‘Because his avarice highlighted your lack of it, or so I thought. You more or less said that because Michael had spoken to me of this matter, it made it impossible for you to consider it. Cara, you have no idea how much that delighted me.’ The carelessly used endearment was a knife in her heart. A piercing hurt of hope that, somehow, stitched more tightly—intensified—her dismay. ‘I believed you. I thought Michael was the unethical one. Michael makes no bones about being an unscrupulous opportunist. I can at least admire him for his openness. What I cannot forgive is cupidity hiding behind the fair face of virtue. I thought you were so pure in your ideals.’

  ‘I hope I am. I do not understand what you are talking about, but I am going to find out.’

  ‘The game is up, Dorcas. Don’t waste your acting talent on me.’

  ‘Why are you attacking me? I haven’t done anything terribly wrong, and neither has Isabel if it comes to that. You’ve exaggerated the issue in your mind. You’ve blown it up until you’re not seeing straight.’

  ‘On the contrary, I’m seeing straight for the first time.’ And then on a quizzical note. ‘What has Isabel to do with this?’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘Forgive me for stealing your lines, but now it is I who do not understand.’

  ‘Then please let me refresh your memory. Paco told you something. Right?’