The Snow Gypsy(98)

She got up from the bench and made her way back through the gardens, trying to focus her mind on the future, not the past. This time tomorrow she would be in Madrid. She and Lola would start looking for somewhere to live. And while Lola pursued her dream of getting into films, Rose would need to find work in a veterinary practice. It would take time to build up enough capital to open her own business—perhaps a year or so. It would be quite similar to London, treating the pampered pets of city dwellers, but having Nieve around would make all the difference. Rose pictured her helping after school and on weekends, in her element, surrounded by animals.

The path from the gardens wound down through the trees to the Gate of the Pomegranates. Rose felt her spirits dive again as she approached the towering stone arch. It was impossible to walk through it without remembering what had happened in the shadow of those walls. No wonder Lola was so desperate to leave this city behind.

Rose had left Lola packing up the few remaining things she planned to take with her to Madrid. They had tickets for the afternoon train, which would get them to the capital by early evening. Cristóbal would not be there to see them off. He had left early that morning, on his way to the country to spend some time with Juanita and the children. He had hardly spoken to Rose since she had come back—as if her presence was an uncomfortable reminder of a part of himself he was trying to shake off. Perhaps he was changing. She hoped so.

Nieve and Gunesh came running up to her as she rounded the bend in the Camino del Sacromonte.

“Auntie Rose! The taxi’s here!”

“Already?” Rose glanced at her watch. It was more than an hour before the train was due.

“Mama says we should get there early—just in case.”

Rose quickened her step. The scant possessions she had brought with her from Zoltan’s house were already packed. There was nothing else she needed to do.

Lola was in the hallway, sitting on a suitcase to try and get it shut.

“Here—let me help you.” Rose knelt on the floor and pushed down until the catch clicked into place.

“Thank you.” Lola cocked her head toward the kitchen. “A letter came for you. Aurora brought it round.”

“Aurora?”

“The mayor’s wife—the one who got me out of jail.”

Rose stared at her, mystified.

“It’s from Pampaneira.” Lola lowered her eyes.

Rose stumbled to her feet. The letter was lying on the kitchen table. It was addressed to Rose Daniel, care of Aurora Fernandez, Oficina del Alcalde, Granada. With trembling hands, she flipped it over. There was no name or return address on the back. But it could only be from him—sent via the only person who would know where Lola lived.

My darling Rose,

By the time this reaches you, I will be on a boat to Argentina. But I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

I asked you to believe in forgiveness. That wasn’t fair. I destroyed the faith you had in me—and that’s something I can never mend. And in my heart, I know that even if you’d never found out about my past, it would have been wrong of me to try to keep you for myself.

Being with you was something rare and wonderful—like watching those badger cubs by the waterfall or the foxes in the woods. Something to be savored, but not owned. Don’t ever let anyone try to control your destiny, Rose. You should be free—not tied to any man. Especially not a man you could never look in the eye without feeling pain.

I’ll never forget you.

There was no signature. Just a single X.





Chapter 37

Madrid, Spain: Two months later

Lola burst into the apartment, her face radiant. “I got it!” She waved a piece of paper over her head. “We start filming next week!”

“Lola! That’s fantastic!” Rose jumped up from the table to hug her. “I knew you’d do it! They’d have been mad to turn you down.”

“I was worried they’d think I was too thin.” Lola glanced down at herself. “I’ve put on a bit of weight these past few weeks, though, haven’t I?”

Rose didn’t reply. She went back to the table and gathered up the documents spread over it.

“I thought we could go out for a bite of lunch—to celebrate.” Lola pulled out a chair. “How about the place across the road from Nieve’s school? That always looks busy—it must be good.”

Rose nodded without looking up. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat much—I had all that tortilla for breakfast.”

“All that tortilla? You didn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive!” Lola tipped her head, trying to catch Rose’s eye. “You’re not feeling ill, are you?”

It was something they had both been afraid of. As well as taking the utmost care of Nieve, they had watched each other for any sign of the disease that had almost claimed her life. By now, Lola thought, they should be out of danger—but Rose’s lack of appetite was worrying.

“No, I’m not ill.” Rose tucked the pile of papers under her arm and headed toward the bedroom. “I’ll just go and get changed.”

Lola followed her. “Something’s the matter—what is it?”

Rose sank down on the bed, staring at her feet. “I wasn’t going to tell you. I . . .”

“What?” Lola knelt on the floor, looking up into a face creased with worry.