Victoria Fox - The Santiago Sisters

José addressed her. ‘ Disculpa, señora, perdóname, pero puedo usar su fono ?’The woman listened to the gaucho for a moment before pointing hesitantly into the back. Michelle followed, accompanied by José, until Simone pulled him to her. ‘You stay here,’ she commanded. ‘I need you to help me talk.’

The woman, who would once have been beautiful but whose embittered expression robbed her of any lingering shred, eyed her suspiciously.

‘I have a proposition for you,’ said Simone, after introductions had been made. The air in that hot, Patagonian kitchen, glowing amber from the melting sun, seemed to vibrate with anticipation. ‘One that could change your life.’

Over supper that night, Julia was in an unusually good mood.

‘What a wonderful person Simone Geddes was,’ she kept saying. ‘And such good fortune that they should stumble across our lowly abode! I’m only glad that we were able to help—those poor women, breaking down in the middle of nowhere …’

Calida ate quietly, while Teresita quizzed her. ‘Is she rich?’

‘Beyond our wildest dreams.’

‘Is she famous?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Julia said. ‘Simone’s an actress. She lives in a mansion in England.’ Their mother lifted her fork precisely to her mouth and chewed carefully. ‘We’re going to stay in touch and then I might have some exciting news to share with you.’

Teresita danced up and down in her seat. ‘What news?’ she pressed, while Calida stayed quiet. Their visitor had unnerved her. It was as if the woman had deposited a trick in her wake, a sting in the tail, a nasty surprise, the nature of which would not be apparent immediately but would soon reveal itself in a horrible, startling flourish.

Julia closed her eyes, as if with the effort of concealing a truth too thrilling to keep at simmering point. ‘Simone wishes to offer one of you girls a special vacation,’ she said, ‘as a way of thanks. To stay with her in London over the English summer.’

Calida didn’t know why her mother bothered to make it a mystery. Maybe she wasn’t just embittered, maybe she was cruel too, and wanted to make Calida believe she had a chance at taking the prize before snatching it out of reach. Calida knew she would receive no invitation. Simone would prefer Teresita. Everyone preferred Teresita. Did Daniel prefer her? Ever since their disastrous trip into town, her twin had made it perfectly clear where her ambitions lay. Calida had been stupid to think she could pull off a stunt like that, anyway—chasing Daniel into a world she had no place in, not once stopping to think about his reaction, or whom he might be with, or what he would say. Teresita could wing these things, but she couldn’t. It had been so unlike her, her silly attempt to be more like her sister, and see how it had backfired.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if Teresita went away.

‘I can’t wait!’ Teresita could scarcely contain her excitement. Calida had seen the way her sister had eyed Simone’s jewellery, admired her gleaming car, envied her chic wardrobe and, at one point, salivated over the bulging wallet that the actress had laid down on the counter, fat with banknotes. This was what her twin desired.

Afterwards, Calida stayed behind to wash the dishes. She recalled a phrase her papa had used, as they had lingered outside the store in town for her photographs to be developed. He’d stroked her hair and said: Good things come to those who wait.

She couldn’t help wondering if bad things did, too.

Later, when Julia had gone to bed, Calida sat on the veranda and gazed up at the stars. Are you there, Papa? Are you with me? If Diego were alive, he would be on her side. She wasn’t even sure what battle she was fighting, but she knew he would be on her side. Now, it seemed as if everything was slipping from her grasp, too fast, too much change, and she didn’t know who she was any more. She didn’t know who her twin was, and, in a lifetime of reflections, of using the other to define oneself, it was a question that frightened her to death. She longed to find a way to reach Teresita, to remind her that the bond they had was stronger than this. But she couldn’t.

Her thoughts were punctured by the sound of laughter. She stood and followed. Who was her sister talking to? Julia had long since fallen asleep.

It was with a growing sense of dread that she arrived at Daniel’s cabin, and heard Teresita talking inside. Her twin spoke animatedly and vivaciously—no wonder people liked spending time with her. Words didn’t come so easily to Calida; they seemed too important, too permanent. She’d never be able to charm Daniel that way.

Anxious, she peered through the window, and saw the pair sitting at his table.

Jealousy boiled in Calida’s blood. Her sister hung on to his every word, every so often touching his arm, or resting her chin on her hand in a way she had learned from their mother. Sensuous. The word, sinuous and sinister, sewed itself under Calida’s skin with a sharp needle. You’ll never be sensuous. You’re not pretty enough.

‘Calida’s confused, you know,’ Teresita was saying.

Calida froze, her heart wedged in her chest. She wanted to interrupt, but all she could do was stay and listen, her feet rooted to the ground, her breath held.

Daniel hesitated. ‘About what?’

Teresita sighed as if she were about to expose a truth she would rather not. Calida saw their mother, again, in the mannerism. ‘She likes this boy …’ she began.

‘Oh,’ said Daniel. For a crazy second, Calida thought her sister was going to do the right thing, at last, to tell him how Calida felt, describe her unwavering commitment; although the prospect was appalling it was also a kind of relief—perhaps it took a soul as brave as Teresita’s to make it happen. But then she said:

‘It’s this boy in town. She’s obsessed with him. That’s why we came to Las Estrellas. I kept telling her she should give up. She can be so desperate sometimes.’

Calida began to tremble. Her ears rang, high and sharp.

‘She should set her sights lower,’ Teresita finished.

Daniel looked confused. Disappointed. No, she couldn’t work out his expression. ‘I don’t think your sister needs to do that,’ he said.

‘She likes him because he’s rich. Money’s really important to her. Once, I suggested that you two might have a thing … but the fact is you’re not her type. Calida wants someone who can treat her—buy her things …’

No ! Calida silently stormed. No ! That’s you ! That’s all you ! That’s not me !

‘Not like me,’ said Teresita, on cue. She put a hand over Daniel’s.

Mud filled Calida’s mouth and lungs. Heat prickled her fingertips.

‘I really like you, Daniel.’ Teresita’s beauty was amazing in this light, her huge, soulful eyes glittering. ‘I’ve never kissed anyone before. Will you teach me?’

Calida could hear no more. Without knowing how, she stumbled to the outhouse door, her vision splintering and a roar in her throat, and knocked.

‘I need Teresita at the house,’ said Calida, when Daniel answered. She was stunned at how steady she sounded. She even smiled for her sister. ‘It’s important.’

Teresita shot Daniel a lingering look before slipping out into the night.

‘You can’t control me for ever, you know,’ she slammed, striding ahead through the dark. Calida didn’t respond. She was mute with hurt and fury.

She watched the back of her sister’s head and for the first time ever, hated it. Calida had disliked her in the past, envied her, coveted her, but she’d never hated her.

Only when they were in their bedroom, and Calida shut the door behind her, did she cough up the rope that was strangling her. ‘How dare you?’ she spat.