The Snow Gypsy(90)
Zoltan’s fingers pressed her skin as they saw another badger cub scrambling down to the water. She heard him catch his breath as a third one joined them. For a few precious seconds, the trio gamboled about in the sunshine. Rose wasn’t sure why, but the sight of them brought tears to her eyes. A sob rose in her throat before she could swallow it back.
“Oh, Rose!” Zoltan rolled onto his knees, crouching beside her, cupping her face in his hands.
“I’m sorry—I’ve frightened them away.”
“Come here.” He lifted her into a sitting position. “It’s no wonder you’re feeling fragile. You’ve been through hell these last few days.”
She felt the warmth of his skin on hers as he drew her close. Her head was tucked against his collarbone, her mouth touching his neck. Without really knowing what she was doing, she found herself kissing the soft, pale flesh below his chin. She heard a murmur—a low groan, as if she’d touched a bruise. Then his mouth found hers, hungry and urgent as he eased her back down onto the bed of reeds.
The protective wall she had built around herself was swept away on a flood tide of pent-up emotion. She couldn’t remember taking off her clothes or his. But when it was over, they were both naked, lying with their limbs entwined. She snuggled into him, breathing deeply. The scent of him mingled with the sharp fragrance of wild garlic and the earthy smell of the stream. She was afraid to open her eyes because the sky was too blue, the sun too bright. She felt like a dragonfly emerging from the shell of its old body. Tender, vulnerable, but aware of an awesome transformation. Ready to take to the sky after only ever glimpsing it through a tangle of weeds.
Chapter 33
Rose felt as if she had stepped outside the bounds of time and reality into an enchanted realm where there was no past and no future. The days were long and warm, and she was with the people she loved: Zoltan, Lola, and Nieve. She shut her mind to what lay ahead. To decisions about going back to England. And to what Lola was going to do when Nieve was strong enough to travel.
If Lola suspected what was going on with Zoltan, she said nothing. She rarely left Nieve’s side. Hardly surprising, Rose thought, after being starved of her company for all that time and then almost losing her. And it was no hardship, taking on the daily tasks of getting food and firewood. It gave Rose and Zoltan the excuse they needed to slip away for an hour or two.
There was no need now to make the daily journey to the village to take Nieve to school. By the time the child had recovered enough to make the trip, classes were over for the summer. Nieve wanted to go and see her friend Pilar, but Rose was afraid to take her. They’d had no news from the village since the doctor’s visit almost a week ago. Maria was the only other person they’d seen—and she rarely ventured down the mountain.
“Pilar is still poorly,” Rose said, feeling horribly guilty for deceiving Nieve. “Uncle Zoltan’s going to market tomorrow—he’ll find out if she’s well enough for you to visit.”
Zoltan glanced at her over the child’s head. They were both dreading what he was going to discover when he got to Pampaneira.
“You’ll be going to a different school in the autumn, when we move to Madrid,” Lola said. “You’ll make new friends there—that’ll be good, won’t it?”
“What about Pilar? Will I still be able to go to her house?”
Lola darted a helpless look at Rose.
“Shall we take Gunesh for a walk?” Rose took Nieve’s hand. “He’s been so lazy this morning—he doesn’t like going out anymore unless you’re there throwing sticks for him.”
Lola and Rose followed as Nieve scampered off with the dog.
“I’m going to miss her so much.” Rose bit her lip, trying hard not to well up. “When are you thinking of going?”
“I thought maybe the day after tomorrow. We’ll get the bus to Granada, sort out our things, then head off to Madrid after the weekend.”
Rose nodded. The lump in her throat made it hard to speak.
Lola glanced at her, her face taut with emotion. “I feel awful, taking her away from you. You’ve been like a mother to her. I wish you could come with us.”
Rose had a fleeting vision of making a new life in Madrid instead of going back to London. Apart from her job, there was nothing to make her want to return to England. She could speak Spanish well enough now to open a practice in this country if she chose. But what about Zoltan? They hadn’t talked about the future. She knew him well enough, though, to be certain he would hate city life. He loved the peace here on the mountain, far removed from the crowded, claustrophobic conditions he had endured in Mauthausen. How could she ask him to leave it all behind to follow her to Madrid?
“Do you have to go so soon?” Rose stared at the ground as she spoke, too churned up to look at Lola. “Couldn’t you stay a little longer?”
“I’ve already stayed longer than I should have.”
Rose looked up, aware of something in the way the words were delivered. Not tinged with regret, but something darker. “It must be hard for you,” she said, “being back in the place that holds such terrible memories.”
Lola nodded. “But it’s not just that. I . . .” She hesitated, glancing ahead to where Nieve was holding a stick above her head, making Gunesh dance around her. “I didn’t tell you everything, Rose. That day in the ravine, when I heard my mother calling out—it wasn’t just screams of terror. There was something else.” Lola closed her eyes, as if playing back the moment in her head.