María Dueñas - The Time in Between

“Nearly noon. I was just calling to thank you for attending my gathering last night and for behaving the way you did with my friends’ wives.”

“No need to thank me, I had a very pleasant evening, too.”

“Are you sure? You didn’t get bored? Now I feel bad for not having paid you a bit more attention.”

Careful, Sira—be careful. He’s just testing you, I thought. Gamboa, Marcus, the forgotten hat, Bernhardt, the tungsten, Beira, everything was coming together in my head with the coolness of frozen glass, while I kept on faking an untroubled, sleepy voice.

“No, Manuel, really, don’t worry about it. The conversations with your friends’ wives kept me very well entertained.”

“And so what do you have planned for your last day in Portugal?”

“Nothing at all. Taking a long bath and preparing my luggage. I don’t mean to leave the hotel all day.”

I hoped the reply would satisfy him. If Gamboa had informed on me, and he thought I was going around with some man, perhaps a prolonged stay within the hotel walls would dispel his suspicions. Of course, my word wouldn’t be strong enough—he would already be getting someone to watch my room, and perhaps also monitor my telephone conversations, but with the exception of him I had no intention of speaking to anyone today. I’d be a good girl—I wouldn’t move from the hotel, I wouldn’t use the telephone and wouldn’t entertain any visitors. I’d let myself be seen, bored and alone, in the restaurant, at reception, and in the sitting rooms, and when the time came for me to leave I’d do it in full view of all the hotel’s other guests and employees, with only my luggage for company. Or at least that’s what I thought until he made me another proposition.

“Yes, of course, you deserve a rest. But I don’t want you to go without my getting the chance to say good-bye to you first. Let me take you to the station. What time does your train leave?”

“At ten,” I replied. Damn me for wanting to see him again.

“I’ll come by your hotel at nine, then, all right? I’d like to be able to come earlier, but my whole day is going to be busy.”

“Don’t worry, Manuel, I’ll need time to arrange my things, too. I’ll send my luggage on to the station in the early evening, then I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Till nine o’clock, then.”

“Nine o’clock—I’ll be ready.”

Instead of João’s Bentley, I found a dazzling new Aston Martin sports car. I felt a knot of nerves when I realized that the old chauffeur wasn’t anywhere to be seen: the idea that we were alone made me feel unsettled and vulnerable. Manuel didn’t feel the same way, apparently.

I couldn’t see any change in his attitude toward me. He didn’t show the least sign of suspicion; he was just as he’d always been—attentive, pleasant, and seductive, as though his whole world revolved around those rolls of beautiful Macao silk that he’d shown me in his office and had nothing to do with the foul darkness of the tungsten mines. We made our final journey down the coast road, then raced along the streets of Lisbon, making the pedestrians’ heads turn. We were on the platform twenty minutes before the train’s scheduled departure time, and Manuel insisted on boarding the train with me and accompanying me to my cabin. We made our way down the side corridor, me ahead and him behind me, just a step behind, still carrying my little overnight bag in which the proof of his foul enterprise was muddled up with innocent toiletries, cosmetics, and lingerie.

“Number eight, I think this is it,” I announced.

The door opened into an elegant, clean cabin. Wood-paneled walls, curtains open, a chair in place, and the bed not yet made up.

“Well then, my dear Arish, the time has come to say good-bye,” he said, putting my overnight bag down on the floor. “It’s been a real pleasure getting to know you. It’s not going to be at all easy for me to get used to not having you around.”

His feelings seemed genuine; perhaps my speculations about Gamboa’s accusation were unfounded after all. Perhaps I’d been more alarmed than I needed to be. Perhaps he’d never even thought of saying anything to his boss, whose esteem for me remained perfectly intact.

“It’s been an unforgettable visit, Manuel,” I said holding my hands out to him. “It couldn’t have been more satisfactory—my clients are going to be most impressed. And you’ve done so much to make it easy and enjoyable—I don’t know how to thank you.”

He took my hands and held them protected in his. And in exchange received my most dazzling of smiles, a smile that hid a huge desire for the final curtain to fall on that whole farce once and for all. In just a few minutes the stationmaster would blow his whistle and lower his little flag, and the Lusitania Express would begin to roll along the tracks, getting farther and farther from the Atlantic toward the center of the Peninsula. And I would be leaving Manuel Da Silva and his dark dealings, vibrant Lisbon, and that whole universe of strangers behind me forever.

The final travelers were hurrying onto the train; every few seconds we had to step aside to let someone past, leaning back against the carriage walls.

“Best for you to go, Manuel.”

“I think so, yes I ought to go now.”

The moment to bring that pantomime farewell to an end had arrived, time to enter my cabin and resume my privacy. All I needed was for him to vanish, and everything else was all set. And then suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt his left hand on the back of my neck, his right arm around my shoulders and the hot, strange taste of his mouth on mine and a shudder running right down my body from my head to my toes. It was an intense kiss; a long, powerful kiss that left me confused, disarmed, and unable to react.

“Bon voyage, Arish.”

I wasn’t able to respond; he didn’t give me enough time. Before I was able to find the right words, he was gone.

Ifell back into my seat, my head filling with the scenes of the previous days as if on a cinema screen. As I recalled the events and settings, I wondered how many of the characters from that strange film would make another appearance in my life, and which ones I would never see again. I reminded myself how each of the strands of the drama had ended: a few of them happily; most, inconclusively. And when the reel was about to end, everything filled with that final scene: the kiss from Manuel Da Silva. I could still taste it in my mouth, but I felt unable to find an adjective to describe it. Spontaneous, passionate, cynical, sensual. Perhaps all of them. Perhaps none.

I sat up in my seat and looked through the window, already being rocked by the gentle clatter of the train. The last lights of Lisbon sped past my eyes, becoming less and less dense, more diffuse, thinning out further and further until the landscape was filled with darkness. I got up; I needed some air. It was time for dinner.

I went into the restaurant car, which was already almost filled with people, as well as the smell of food, the noise of cutlery and conversations. It only took the staff a few minutes to seat me; I chose from the menu and ordered some wine to celebrate my freedom. Killing time while I waited to be served, I thought ahead to my arrival in Madrid and pictured Hillgarth’s reaction when he learned the results of my mission. He probably never imagined that it would end up being so productive.

The food and wine arrived quickly, but by the time they did I already knew for certain that the dinner wasn’t going to be a particularly pleasant one. Luck had decided to position me close to a couple of coarse-looking individuals who didn’t stop staring at me quite brazenly from the moment I’d sat down. Two rough guys who didn’t fit the tranquil setting that surrounded us. They had a couple of bottles of wine on their table and a crowd of dishes that they were devouring as though the world were set to end that very night. I barely enjoyed my bacalhau à brás ; the linen tablecloth, the engraved glass, and the formal attentiveness of the waiters were all quickly relegated to secondary importance. My priority had become gulping down my food as quickly as possible in order to get back to my cabin and escape from that unwelcome company.