Finding You (4 page)

5 - Julia

I hadn’t wanted to come here, and yet I’d let myself be persuaded.

‘It’ll be fun for Hadyn,’ Eva impressed on me when she turned up at our villa a couple of hours ago. ‘He hasn’t been to any parties yet, has he?’

I know I had succumbed to a twinge of guilt when she’d said that.  And then Eva had followed up with the comment, ‘Today is a day of celebration for you also, no? I am sure the men are enjoying their time on the boat.  Why should you not also go out to have some fun?’ She had glanced around us at the assortment of packing cases and bags now littering the sitting room, and cunningly added, ‘Or you could spend your evening here doing the packing all by yourself ...’

I’d looked up at her, halfway through wrapping a little glass ornament then. ‘Of
course
I’d hoped to spend the evening celebrating,’ I’d admitted. ‘It’s just that when I first agreed to come to Antonio’s party, I thought Charlie would be coming with us, too.’ I’d pulled a wry face. ‘Let’s face it, Eva. I can’t be Lourdes’ most favourite person in the world.’

As indeed she is not mine
...

‘Who cares?’ Eva had shrugged. ‘Hadyn can still have a good time with the other children. And we can still enjoy ourselves.’

Her words had seemed to make sense while we were still at the villa, but now ...

‘Hadyn won’t know anyone,’ I say pathetically as we get out of the car onto the wide, curved driveway. The house is intimidatingly big.  But Eva sees right through that one.

‘You’re nervous,’ she observes. ‘Because you think you won’t know many people. But everyone knows of
you.’

‘Will it matter that we’re late?’ I enquire. Most Spaniards I’ve met are pretty relaxed about timing. But maybe Lourdes’ people are not?

‘Dona Ana will not be too pleased,’ Eva murmurs. She’s out of the car already and rummaging around in the back seat with eight-year-old Maite for their presents. ‘She can be very strict. Antonio can’t even celebrate his birthday in August, when it properly falls, because that’s the month her husband died.’

Great
, I think. A strict abuela, scrutinising our every move. That’s all we need.  

‘But don’t worry. All the other people here will be friendly, and they’re all very keen to meet you,’ Eva rushes on. She’s still busy rustling around at the back. ‘Have you got your gift for Antonio?’ Eva’s face suddenly appears, looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

‘I’ve got it.’ I pat my bag. He’s getting a cheque. I had no idea what else to get him, so his mum can choose.  Eva’s puffing up her hair again. As I watch her, the uncomfortable realisation dawns on me slowly that Hadyn’s car seat is now empty. I shift over a little to see if Maite’s got him, but she’s still sitting in her seat. I stiffen.

 ‘Eva. Where’s Hadyn?’

‘I unstrapped him for you,’ she says, unconcerned. ‘He was in the way and I couldn’t get to the parcel at the bottom.’ She wriggles backwards out of the car even as I jump out of the passenger seat, suddenly galvanised. ‘Oh.’ Eva seems surprised, looking around her, that he’s not waiting right beside the car. None of us saw him go. I wasn’t even looking. I didn’t know she’d unbuckled him did I? Hell
.
 As I scan the driveway, I catch sight of a brief glimpse of him, bowling towards the side entrance where some balloons are rolling out from the party that’s already in full swing in the garden. He can see other people and cars, and that’s where he’s headed.  

God, why did Eva not hold onto him? I’m sure I’ve warned her about him before—that he’s an escape artist.

‘Hadyn!’ But I can’t catch him, not in these strappy sandals; he’s just too quick. A split second later, just as I see his head disappear round the corner into the garden, a car pulling up coming from exactly that direction does what sounds like an emergency brake and my heart does a double flip. 

‘Oh, God.
Shit!
’

A few surprised guests turn their heads at the strength behind my expletive. To them, he’ll be just an over-excited toddler running into a party and I’m overreacting.  But to me, to me in that split second, a whole host of things come rushing back: all the fear and the dread that may come in any unexpected moment; how an inconsolable loss may be waiting to catch you round any corner on any given day. And how you can’t stop it. No matter what you do or how careful you are, you can’t stop it ... 

‘I’ll catch him for you.’ In the background, I am aware of Maite calling out to me helpfully. Aware of her running, lithe and young and so much faster than I am in these ridiculous strappy sandals, and the day greying over a little, going somewhat slower and my head feeling very faint.
Are you okay?
People are staring at me, concerned, enquiring, am I okay? But of course I am okay; I am fine, aren’t I? I shrug them off. Where’s my son? That’s all I’m worried about.

And then, by the time I catch up with them, Hadyn’s decided to stop already. He is perfectly okay. Intact.  Smiling. He’s stopped because he has got waylaid by a little white poodle who’s busy licking his hand by the gate. An old lady who I take to be Lourdes’ mother Dona Ana gives me the once-over as I come racing round the corner. I can feel her eyes on me, the sweat breaking out all over my skin, my face hot and undignified. I should not have come. I feel so embarrassed.  All I feel like doing right now is breaking down and crying, but I am here now and she is watching me, and in front of them, I will not do that.  I gulp in a breath, deliberately slowing my pace right down to a more dignified walk. 

This is not the way I would have chosen to enter this party.

‘Julia,’ Eva comes puffing up behind me, ‘Why did he run out like that? I have never seen a child do that before. They
wait.
’ She must see my stricken face because she adds a little sheepishly, ‘You left this behind.’ She passes me my handbag and I clutch it to me as if it’s some sort of lifeline. ‘You say you have Antonio’s present in there, yes?’

Is that all she’s worried about?

‘I don’t know. Yes.’ I breathe. I am not thinking about Antonio’s present right now.

‘Dona Ana.’ Eva turns to the older lady now, embraces her on both cheeks. ‘This is Julia. I apologise that we are so late … Antonio,
feliz cumpleanos
!’ Happy birthday, she says.  The dark-eyed
abuela
is looking at us intently and I am aware that I am still struggling for breath.

Act normal
, I think fiercely.

‘Happy birthday,’ I add my felicitations to the curly-haired lad standing solemnly beside his grandmother, fumble in my bag for his envelope.  To her, I say, ‘
Hola.
’ 

‘
Buenos
,’ she says to me coolly. The old lady’s eyes sweep over every inch of me now, taking in my shoes and my dress and my hair. Taking in that I came out in perhaps too much of a rush, chivvied along by Eva and without fully appreciating what a society event this small child’s party would be.  ‘I can see exactly who this is,’ she nods towards my son, who is busy trying to grab hold of the poodle’s waggly tail, and giving him the same scrutiny.

‘He is the image of his mother, no?’ She turns to her side, and I see that Lourdes has now joined us. She’s wearing a green dress that perfectly complements  her olive skin, small, elegant earrings, and has her hair done up in the slightly old-fashioned way you used to see on Hollywood starlets, but it suits her down to a tee. She’s a natural beauty, and she’s always what my mum used to call
well put together.
  She is also usually exquisitely well-mannered, but right now she’s ignoring me.  She can’t take her eyes off Hadyn. For a minute, she just stands there, mouth slightly open, and I recall that she’s never actually seen Charlie’s son before.

And I remember this is the child she would have loved to have borne him. She and Charlie eventually split up because she thought it would never happen, a child between them. And then he met me, and I immediately and unexpectedly got pregnant.  She must hate me, really, and I can hardly blame her.

‘He’s very beautiful, Mama. Just like his father.’

‘Just like his
mama
,’ Dona Ana comments, but the way she says it, she somehow doesn’t sound as if it’s meant as any compliment to me.    

‘Welcome, Julia.’ I get an air kiss from Lourdes now, on both sides of my face, her touch so soft on my arms that it is amply clear she has no desire to embrace me. ‘You found him,’ she says simply.

Yes. I found him. And in doing so, I have made her beloved Charlie’s life complete. She knows this. And with the same sweep, I have shaken any hopes she still might have harboured that she and Charlie would ever get back together again. I’ve long suspected—even though Charlie denies this every time I try and bring it up with him—that she has had such hopes.  I saw them huddled together at Agustina’s funeral, didn’t I? I saw how tenderly this woman had laid her hand on Charlie’s arm, her head leaning in so close to him, whispering words of consolation to him as he’d wept, and there is no doubt in my mind that we have been rivals for his affection.

And now, in finding Hadyn, I have won.   

‘
Ella lo sabe
?’ Her mother whispers in her ear now.
Does she know
? 

Do I know what? My ears prick up—
they think I speak no Spanish
—but Lourdes gives the smallest warning shake of her head and her mother falls silent. When Lourdes finds her voice again at last, she enquires tentatively, ‘Carlos is with you?’      

‘I’m afraid not.’ I shake my head.

‘Not coming later?’ I hear the hope fade in her voice.

‘He couldn’t.’

‘He’s a very busy man, of course.’ 

He’s avoiding this,
I think
, because he’s avoiding you. Can’t you see it?
I know that she does.

The dog yelps now, breaking the tension, and I am glad of it.  Up to now, Hadyn and the poodle have both been going round and round, doing a little circular dance around each other, but now my son has finally managed to catch hold of its tail.

‘Hadyn,’ I mutter, pulling him away from the creature, but he’s got a vice grip on it. The poodle starts yelping plaintively now. ‘Darling,
please
…’ In the end, I have to take hold of Hadyn’s little clenched fist in mine and squeeze until he lets go.  Hadyn yells out, as if I’ve just hurt him, and now everyone looks at
me
accusingly. I look to Eva for some moral support, but she’s staring into the middle distance as if she weren’t really connected to me at all.  

‘I am very sorry about that,’ I say.

The grandmother mutters something in Spanish to the effect that some children should be spanked when they’re little so they don’t grow up to be hooligans and terrorists.

‘I mean, I hope he hasn’t hurt your pet …’  

‘That’s perfectly all right. He’s very little,’ Lourdes says, her voice strangled. ‘Please, go and join the others. They’re serving food soon on the lawn.’
Food, who wants any food,
I think, suddenly weary
.
I just want to go home
.
Her son Antonio stares, unmoved, at the drama. The dog starts barking and jumping a little now, baring its teeth.

‘We’d better move on.’ I push at Hadyn’s back to get him moving and he does so reluctantly, even though the dog doesn’t seem so friendly anymore. Eva trails along a little way behind us. I can almost feel her hanging her head. 

‘You don’t need to worry too much about Dona Ana,’ Eva mutters, catching up behind me only once we’re safely away from the reception party. ‘You have to understand. She was very upset when Carlos broke up with her daughter.’
Does she mean when they broke up six years ago, I wonder uncomfortably now
,
or is she referring to more recently
?  ‘She was very fond of him.’

‘Isn’t everyone?’ I note ruefully.

Eva takes me in intently. ‘Lourdes, you mean?’

‘She’s
still
in love with him, isn’t she?’ I complain.

Eva shrugs. ‘I think maybe she always will be,’ she admits. ‘But ... he’s made his choice, Julia.   And ...’ she reminds me after a bit, ‘So have you.’ So put up with it, she means. Encounters like this one are going to go with the territory.

Not for much longer though, thank God. We’ll soon be home, I remember, away from all these people.

And more importantly, away from Lourdes.

As we go down deeper into the garden, bounded on all sides by cypress trees and dark, shady oleander bushes, Eva’s assertion that the other guests would be keenly interested in us seems to be borne out. Some of them smile and nod greetings at me as I walk Hadyn down towards the food tent. They nudge each other, pointing at him. As I plaster on a smile for their benefit, I fancy that some of their faces even look familiar; is it possible that any of these are the same people who helped us search on that terrible night when he was taken? It’s likely.  I’m well aware it means they’ll also be scrutinising every little thing that we do

‘I think this might have been a mistake, Eva,’ I whisper to her now. Hadyn clearly has little experience of being in a social setting like this. ‘When do you think we can leave?’

‘Leave?’ she looks at me as though I’ve gone mad. ‘We cannot leave. It would appear most ungracious after what they have just done for you. Didn’t you know?’ she adds when I look at her in surprise. ‘Roberto spoke to Lourdes’ brother Santos, and he put in a word on your behalf yesterday. It’s the only reason why you’re getting out next week.’