Peter Jensen - The blackmailed wife

The third fighter, Jose Rascon, according to the program, was one of the most handsome men Ann had ever seen. He was tall and moved with the grace of a ballet dancer. He was not as dark as some Mexicans but had a light bronze skin that made him appear like a well tanned and healthy Norteamericano. He had jet black hair smoothed back from a narrow forehead and a straight classical nose, that reminded her of old silent films she had seen of Rudolph Valentino. He was built in the classic style of bullfighters, with strong, broad shoulders that tapered down to thin graceful hips. It seemed to Ann that he hardly touched the sand of the bullring when he walked. He carried himself with a fatalistic pride, knowing he might die today but resigned to it if he must.

Ann caught an admiring glance from him as he bowed to the presidential box above. Their eyes had locked for just a moment, but she felt something stir in her that she hadn't felt since the first time Dave had kissed her. It was a delightful yet frightening feeling and she was ashamed that it could happen. She shook her head slightly and regained her composure.

How stupid, she thought of course I'm going to have feelings like that, every woman does, particularly when her husband has been away for six months and she has been accustomed to having him in bed with her every night. Some men just bring the feeling on, she mused, but decided she had better watch herself – temptation can be a difficult thing to fight sometimes. The opening ceremonies being over, the fight began.

Paco Camino had drawn the first bull and made some beautiful passes with his cape. The crowd was enthusiastic over seeing one of Spain's great matadors in action and shouted "Ole!" each time the bull made a pass.

Ann was glued to her seat with anxiety; she couldn't remember when anything had affected her so much emotionally. When he had taken several passes at the bull with his red cape, he turned and faced the Presidente and requested permission to pass the bull over to the new matador for the kill. This is when the alternativa ceremony is performed. Julia explained to her. An old established bullfighter takes his turn with the bull and then donates it to the new matador for the kill. The new matador then dedicates the bull to someone in the crowd.

Jose Rascon chose to dedicate his first bull he killed as a matador to Ann. He walked up to the barrero behind which she was sitting and bowed, then turned his back and threw his hat over his shoulder to her. She caught it. This is supposed to be good luck for him and, as it turned out, it was. He gave one of the best performances of the afternoon. The crowd shouted and applauded after the kill until the Presidente had awarded him two ears and a tail. This was the greatest honor that could be bestowed on a matador. Ann was proud. She could feel the whole crowd staring at her as Rascon was being carried around the ring on the shoulders of some enthusiastic fans who had jumped into the ring after he had made the most beautiful kill they had seen in years.

"You've made a hit, dear," Julia kidded Ann. "Just watch yourself and don't get caught outside the ring with one of these bull fighters, he might get your tail, too!"

"Oh, Julia!" Ann laughed, "I'm an old married woman – and a faithful one too – he wouldn't even look twice at me if he knew that."

"You don't know men, my dear girl," Julia replied. "With a body like yours he wouldn't care if you had six husbands!"

"Oh! Be quiet! You've got plenty to offer too, Mrs. Taylor, so you had better watch yourself and stop worrying about me."

Ann was warming up to Julia now and felt she could talk frankly. Julia seemed so worldly wise. Ann was sorry now that she hadn't been more friendly with Julia before – perhaps she wouldn't have been so lonely and Dave's not writing wouldn't have upset her so much.

"Mmmmm," Ann smiled, "This Martini is heavenly. I'm glad you talked me into having one."

The two girls were sitting at the Patio Lounge out by the pool. The cool breeze blowing through the garden was refreshing after the hot, dusty afternoon in the Plaza de Toros. Ann felt absolutely in heaven. It had been a perfect day. She was ravenously hungry, which was a good indication of the elation she felt.

"Roberto mixes the best Martini this side of the border," Julia said.

"They're a bit stronger than Daiquiris, I must say," Ann said, grimacing in jest after a sip. "I think I might get to like them, they make my toes tingle," she giggled.

"Well, don't let them tingle too much just yet," Julia said suddenly, looking over behind Ann's shoulder. "I think we may have a heavy date for the evening."

Ann looked around at the two men who had just entered the lounge. They appeared to be in their late thirties or early forties and not too bad-looking.

"Julia, you don't mean you're going to pick them up?" Ann said, shocked at the thought.

"Don't be silly, Ann," Julia chided. "I know one of them. We can get them to take us out to dinner and dancing. You know we don't dare go anywhere in this town alone at night."

"But we're both married women. We can't do that!" she protested, "what if we see someone we know?"

"Oh for heavens sakes, Ann, no one we know is down here," Julia admonished. "Pete's a nice guy I've known for years and the best protection we can have. Remember, we're here to see the sights and we can't sitting in this dead hotel."

Before Ann could protest further, Julia waved the two men over to the table.

"Well, hello doll, what are you doing here?" the ruddy-faced man of about forty bubbled to Julia.

"Same as you, Pete, trying to relax for a weekend," Julia answered, smiling and extending her hand. "Sit down and join us."

"Sure thing, we'd love to," Pete said elated. "I'd like you to meet my friend Carlos. He handles my business here in Tijuana."

"How do you do, Carlos," Julia said and introduced Ann to them.

From a distance both had looked rather nice, but up closer, Ann had her doubts. The one Julia called Pete, appeared a type likely to be in some illegal business. Carlos was too good looking, in fact, almost perfectly so. He wore heavy cologne that didn't seem quite masculine to Ann. Something about him was not trustworthy though Ann couldn't spot it. She supposed if Julia knew them, it was all right. Ann thought she'd probably been seeing too many old gangster movies on television lately.

Carlos sat by Ann and his heavy cologne surrounded her – obviously he spoke little English which made her uneasy.

"Hey there buddy," Pete said, thickly, "I think you've hit the jackpot tonight. Where'd you come from honey?"

"Don't mind Pete," Julia broke in, "he's always popping off. You be easy on Ann, Pete, she's a lonely Navy wife too, and it's hands off."

"I was just being friendly," Pete feigned mock indignation. "I wouldn't want to scare the little girl."

"Don't worry," Ann said bravely, not wanting to embarrass Julia with her innocence, "I've been around a bit."

Pete's remark irked her. She was tired of being treated as a babe in arms. She knew Julia was older and a great deal more experienced but this didn't justify what she was doing. She could take care of herself.

"Well, Carlos and I have been invited to a party tonight that is a party and no kids allowed. Are you chicks game?"

"Well, I'm for good, clean fun, but Ann likes to go to bed early," Julia chided.

Ann was infuriated at this. The third Martini had gone to her head a bit. Julia was treating her like a three year old and she was sick of it.

"Why, I'd love to go," she said decisively. "We're here for a good time aren't we?"

Underneath, she felt perhaps she shouldn't have spoken so soon, but it was too late now. She had committed herself and couldn't back down.