Betrayed(12)

She smoothed her outfit it was decidedly crushed. Maybe she should have worn something more sensible. Francine had persuaded her to wear it. “Advertise what you are,” she’d said. “Be your own walking model, you’re tall, slim, and you’re beautiful. Show off for once.”

The journey had taken the E7 north from Alicante airport, to junction sixty-three, and at the outskirt of Benissa, turned right. Now they were in Valle de Xaló, where they passed almond groves, vineyards, and now fields of citrus; in complete contrast to the scrubland around the airport. Perhaps she could settle in a similar place when work was no longer a panacea.

“We’re not far off,” he said, “We’ll be coming into Alcalali any minute then it’s a small climb into the Sierras.”

The high-powered Lamborghini slowed as they rounded a bend. A small restaurant faced them with people sitting under the shade of huge red parasols with white letters advertising beer. The engine became throaty as they accelerated out of the bend. One or two of people looked up as they passed; an old man waved and Rafael tooted his horn and waved back.

He said, “My great-great-grandpapa bought the place, an old farmhouse. Each generation added their bit. Papá has modernised it to make it more comfortable. In time, I suppose it’ll be mine.”

Kat jolted out of her reverie. “Your place?”

“I shall probably add my mark when the time comes. I’ve a few ideas in mind, mind you, pressure of work means I don’t spend as much time here as I ought. I’m afraid I tend to regard it as a retreat from the bad old world. I only come when I want consoling. Momia always scolds me for not spending more time. Consolation only stretches so far.”

“Your place? We’re going to your family home?”

People wandered through their homes half-dressed. She’d been through it before. In those days she’d sometimes finished undressing him, and after the undressing had been scorching sex. Their cramped quarters had echoed to sounds of pleasure.

“Of course,” Rafael murmured. “You’re my honoured guest. I couldn’t possibly accept any other. I couldn’t let you stay in a faceless hotel.”

Whatever would his mother say? Would she assume something was going on between them? Kat said weakly, “You said we’d be staying at La Hacienda Familiar. You never mentioned your family home. I handed Dad the telephone number of the hotel.”

“La hacienda familiar means the country house of the family, a country retreat if you like. My parents live there most of the time now. I live in Valencia, where they have a town house as well. I have a penthouse in the city centre. Our head office is in Valencia, and a lot of my work is involved there. Papá keeps his finger on the pulse in the factory at this end. The other factories are looked after by managers, but he keeps an eye on them.”

Kat sagged. “I thought the name implied the hotel was well known, familiar to everyone.”

He braked the car as they went into a bend, glanced in the mirror then to her. “Does it make a difference?”

“Of course, it does.”

“I didn’t think it relevant. Anyway, there are few hotels here. I believe there’s one in Parcent and another on the way to Calpe, and vacation hotels in Calpe centre, but guests stay with us.”

Katrina took a deep breath, she was silly. The last thing she wanted was to appear unsophisticated. Wasn’t she always in control, isn’t that what friends envied, her ability to remain composed no matter what the crisis?

She took another breath. It didn’t stop her fears about staying with his parents though.

They drove through an avenue of huge conifers swaying ungainly in the wind, reminding Kat of Italy. Rafael said, “I absolutely adore this place. I feel as if part of me is welded to it.” He changed gear as they came to a short incline. The engine growled then steadied as they careered over the rise.

Pine trees ran all the way down a deep abyss hugging the side of the road. She peered to get a better view. “It’s gorgeous,” she agreed. “I hadn’t realised Spain would be like this. I thought of it as beaches and high-rise apartments.”

“Everyone thinks the same, but this land is raw. Every bend brings something new. I adore it. Its only when I come home that I realise how much I miss it.”

He sounded ebullient. If she hadn’t been annoyed about staying at his home, she might have caught his mood, but she was, and she didn’t. She said, “I can see why. I suppose I’d be the same if I were in your position.”

“There’s the place, Kat.” He touched her hand. “Right there in the distance.”

She had her first glimpse of the majestic villa set in an area of deep ravines, steep rising crags, and land cloaked in trees. She let out an involuntary gasp, “That’s stunning.”

“I’m not going to take you straight in.” He swung the car off the road. “We’ll take the back road, it’s more picturesque.” They followed an unmade track and the villa disappeared. Rafael pulled off the track and parked between trees. He cut the engine. “Let’s walk. It’s the only way to see the place properly. You get far more out of it on foot.”

“I’d like that.”

He manoeuvred his long legs out of the car and went around and held open her door. The temperature outside, was a shock after the air-conditioned car. He saw her reaction and grinned disarmingly. “Don’t worry it’ll cool once the sun has gone. At this time of year it’s hot during the day, but can be cold at night. We often have heating on after sunset.”

He walked into a small clearing and she followed.

Sunlight filtered through the trees creating intricate patterns. Apart from their deadened footsteps there was little sound, as if she had lost her sense of hearing.

They halted. Kat did a three hundred and sixty degree turn, and filled with awe. The day was magnificent, a spring day, where the air was filled with resurgence. High overhead, insignificant vapours drifted in an otherwise clear sky. Sunlight dazzled, new life burst from every twig, every bush.

Kat said softly, “This is extraordinary.” She tilted her head back, closed her eyes and tried to soak up the ambience. “The silence hits you, doesn’t it? There’s barely a sound, like being in a cathedral. It makes me feel small.”

“I know. It gets me every time.”

“And just get a whiff of that.” Kat filled her lungs. “It smells as if someone has scrubbed it clean.”

“It’s pine. The air is thick with it now. You should have seen it a few weeks ago, yellow pollen all over the place. Everything gets smothered, the patios, furniture in the house, and plays the devil with the pool-filter. I don’t suppose it would’ve done a lot of good for hay-fever, either.” Rafael picked up a dead branch and flung it from the path and rubbed his hands clean. “I know every dot of this place,” he said. “Every shrub and tree. I grew up here. I intend to die here.”

She followed him to the top of a small rise and they were in the open. In front of them, set in tortured folds of limestone was the villa. Beneath the bowl of the sky it looked majestic. The villa was the proudest thing Kat had ever seen. It had a personality of its own. She would probably have guessed to whom it belonged. Somehow the place had become stamped on Rafael.

“Come on,” he shouted and jogged down the steep path. “Last one in makes coffee.”

Kat let him go. She watched the lone figure running down the track. Rafael was out of sight now and she proceeded at her own pace.

The full spread of the villa was partially hidden by trees but as she went further, it appeared in all of its grandeur. When in full view, she stood quite still. She understood why Rafael wanted her to see it this way.

Surrounding the villa was a high courtyard wall, and dotted on the wall, bright geraniums in clay pots. Sometimes, a splash of purple bougainvillea sprawled over. Undulant terracotta tiles capped the wall, a few of them broken. Securing the entrance were huge, ornate, black iron gates, with gold ferrules.

Through the gates she could see a cobbled patio and a single gnarled, twisted olive tree. It looked as ancient as the hills. The tree had a low circular wall surrounding it that might be pleasant to sit on to catch the shade when the sun became too much. Beyond the tree a fountain splashed, water from it finding the sun, making bright diamonds in the air. A fitting retreat for one of Spain’s richest fashion doyennes.

Kat arrived at the door of the kitchen and went in. It seemed dark after the strong sunlight and she blinked to adjust her sight.

“What took you so long?” Rafael spread himself on a chair with his feet propped high on another. Irately, she realised he was amused.

“Frankly I don’t see what’s funny,” she said. “What will your mother say when she knows that you’ve brought along a guest? I don’t suppose for one moment you thought to warn her.”

“I don’t think she’ll be particularly bothered. She’ll be relaxing in our vacation home on Tenerife. Momia will almost certainly have reserved the theatre this evening, and will have no thought of me whatsoever. Papá will probably be taking an early glass of Soberano and Momia, a chilled Mistela, and they’ll be sitting on the terrace.”