All Yours (9 page)

And about that kind of geometry most people know absolutely
nada
.

My diagram was more or less as follows:

Title:
Probable situations between Ernesto and Charo

At first, I had written “probable relationships between Ernesto and Charo”, but that word “relationships” irritated me. I also dismissed “link”, “attachment”, “connection”, “nexus” and “association”, for various different reasons.

Possibility 1:

Everything that Ernesto has told me up until now is true, but:

– he ran into Charo at the airport by chance

– coincidentally, she was also getting a flight (but not to Rio)

– they happened to go up the escalator together

– for some reason either she or Ernesto, or both parties, suddenly felt the urge to kiss and so they did

I ruled out that possibility for one simple reason: I don’t believe in coincidences. You have to be honest with yourself. It might be possible to walk down the street and, “by chance”, for a flower pot to fall on you and split your head open. But to believe that two people can kiss “by chance” on their way to catch a plane, that’s childish, to say the least.

Possibility 2:

Ernesto’s story with Truelove is more or less as I thought, and:

– after meeting Charo on numerous occasions with Truelove, Ernesto ended up getting more interested in the former than the latter

– Ernesto had a work trip to Brazil lined up and decided to take her

– this is just one of those flings – of which there have been various during our years of marriage – about which one shouldn’t get overly worried

“You really think?” I asked myself as soon as I had finished writing this. It’s good to write your thoughts down because afterwards you can read them back as though they were the observations of another person, and then you can challenge and criticize yourself freely. Looking at the paper, I said to that other version of myself: “Who in the world would believe such baloney?!” If Ernesto and this woman, both of them implicated somehow in Truelove’s disappearance, decided to screw everyone and go off together, kissing in public, then this is not just “another one of those meaningless flings”.

Before putting together my “Possibility 3”, I had to do a bit of fieldwork. I knew very little about Charo – I think only three things: that she was Alicia’s niece, that she was involved with my husband and that she worked as a photographer for a news magazine. I went to my newsagent and asked him to lend me all that week’s magazines, then I checked the staff lists in each of them and bought the one that said “Charo Soria, photographer”. I went back home. I dialled the editorial department’s telephone number. Nothing happened. I hung up, then realized that there was no dialling tone. The phone was disconnected. I plugged it in and called again. “Ediciones Pampa,” a voice said. “Yes, I wanted to speak to Señorita Charo Soria, the photographer.”

“No, she’s not here.”

“When can I get hold of her?”

The man on the other end moved away from the mouthpiece, but I could hear him shout, “Hey, when is Charo back?”

Someone shouted something back, but I didn’t catch it. “We don’t know, Señora,” said the man on the phone. “She’s out of the country.”

“Oh, she’s away. Must be that famous trip to Rio she had planned.”

“Yes, that’s it, the one that was called off last time.”

“The one that was called off…” I thought, without saying it, because my tongue was suddenly leaden in my mouth.

Earlier I had felt a little faint and drunk a whisky. Now the whisky was hitting home. I swallowed hard, moved my tongue from one side to the other and, with some effort, said: “And tell me, can I send a packet to her at this address? I’m calling from the estate agency. She left an apartment with us to rent and we’ve got someone who’s interested. I’d like her to see the offer when it arrives.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Tell me, dear, what is her full name so that I get it right on the envelope?”

“It’s Amparo Soria, but you can just put ‘Charo’ because she uses her nickname for everything.”

“No, for some things a nickname is not sufficient. Thank you, and goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Señora.”

I hung up and went straight to the tool box to look at the airline tickets I had found on Alicia’s bedside table, beside the revolver and the photos of Ernesto. Those naked photos. It was all beginning to add up. The tickets to Rio said “A. Soria”, but that “A” didn’t stand for Alicia after all, it stood for Amparo. I looked through the letters. No names. They were all signed “your true love”. Finally, the photos made everything crystal-clear. And then I really did feel like an idiot. Because this was something I should have realized before. They weren’t really photos at all, but contact sheets. Those little tiny photos that professional photographers develop before selecting the best shots. Professional photographers like Charo.

Only then did I get to work on Possibility 3:

– Alicia wasn’t Truelove

– Truelove is her niece, Charo (notice the difference in tense: was for Alicia; is for Charo)

– Alicia had had a previous relationship with Ernesto (my evidence for this assertion: her phone call on the night of the accident; her behaviour in Palermo, to which I was a witness; the gun on top of the naked photos of Ernesto)

– Alicia was deceived by her own trusted niece and could not bear the tremendous offence that had been perpetrated against her by the aforementioned and by the lover of both women. In other words, my husband, the first corner of the square

I felt a great sadness for Alicia. What they did to that woman defies description. Her niece, especially. Any woman might expect to get crapped on by a man – it goes with the territory. And if you’ve never been crapped on, then you spend your whole life with the sword of Damocles hanging over your head, knowing that one day, sooner or later, you’re going to get crapped on. But your own flesh and blood is something else. That could really knock you for six. I think that if Alicia and I had spoken a bit before what happened happened, I could have taught her many things. At heart, she must have been very naive. I’ve had to pick myself up and dust myself off so many times already. The two of us against Charo would have been a fairer contest. Even between the two of us, we couldn’t have mustered a comparable pair of tits, but I’m sure some brainwave would have occurred to us. And then we would have worked out what to do with Ernesto. I think we might even have become good friends. Not close friends, but good ones, yes.

Alicia was no longer here, but I was and, even if it was an unequal contest, I wasn’t going to give up so easily.

For Possibility 3 I put down three points starting with question marks.

? Ernesto and Charo are to this day engaged in a standard extramarital relationship

In the margin I added some comments, in a smaller slanting hand, so that they would fit in:
wait, keep calm, it will pass
. However, on a second reading, I crossed this out and put a note at the foot of the page to say “
see Possibility 2
”.

? Ernesto and Charo are involved in a relationship which is becoming more serious (e.g. the Brazil trip)

Notes in the margin:
action plan, direct intervention, declaration of war (on her)
.

? Ernesto and Charo are not planning to return from this trip

No notes in the margin.

I went out, looked for a public telephone that worked and phoned the police. All I had to do was wait for someone to answer, say what I had to say and then hang up. “Police Station Number 31,” said a voice on the end of the line.

24

“Would you mind moving your rucksack, dear, so that I can sit down?”

“…”

“Thank you.”

“…”

“
Your attention please… The 22.30 Rio de la Plata coach to Mar del Plata will leave from bay 6…
”

“What do they mean the 22.30? This stinks! All the buses are leaving except mine!”

“…”

“I’ve been catching this bus every week for a year, year and a half. For work, you know? Would you believe it’s never once left on time?”

“…”

“It doesn’t matter where I’m going. My bleeding bus is always the one that’s late.”

“Oh…”

“
Your attention, please, the 22.40 Micromar service to San Nicolás will leave from bay 18
.”

“You see, what did I tell you.”

“…”

“Are you waiting for the Rosario bus too?”

“No.”

“Where are you going?”

“No – I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you meeting someone, then?”

“…”

“Quite the chatterbox, aren’t you, love?”

“…”

“Is something up?”

“…”

“Come on, don’t look at me like that! I haven’t done you any harm.”

“…”

“Oh no, please don’t turn on the waterworks, that’s the last thing I need. What did I do! I was only passing the time of day.”

“…”

“No, wait, don’t go running off. Was I disrespectful? Did I do something wrong?”

“…”

“Come on, love, don’t cry, or you’ll make me feel terrible. Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“…”

“You’re in a really bad way, you are. Are you going to tell me what’s happened?”

“…”

“With that lovely face, and so young too – what could be wrong? Give me a break!”

“I’m pregnant, my boyfriend’s done a runner, my parents don’t know, my father’s screwing around and he’s gone off on holiday with his girlfriend, my mother knows all about it but she’s pretending she doesn’t…”

“Blimey!”

“You see?”

“…”

“…”

“I’m sorry, love.”

“…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“So what are you doing here at the bus station?”

“Getting out of the house. My mother’s a monster. I’d rather die than spend the weekend alone with her.”

“What, so are you thinking of spending the night here?”

“Yes. During the day I can walk around, go to a mall or a square, whatever. But I’m too scared to do that at night. It’s safer here, there’s light, police, that sort of thing.”

“Won’t it be bad for the little one?”

“What little one?”

“The one in your belly, my dear.”

“Oh.”

“…”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen, when you’re expecting you have to rest and eat well. Eat for two, my wife used to say, when she was expecting Leo. Forty-something pounds she put on, the fat cow!”

“…”

“Leo’s my son – well, Leonardo, but we call him Leo.”

“…”

“He’s six now.”

“…”

“Is it kicking yet?”

“Yes, quite a lot.”

“He’s going to be a striker, then.”

“…”

“Do you mind if I?…”

“No.”

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You have to wait a bit.”

“At this rate he’s got time to dance me a traditional malambo and I still won’t miss the bus.”

“You’re the first person ever to feel it.”

“What an honour! You’ll have to give him my name.”

“What is your name?”

“Guillermo… hey, he kicked me! He kicked, did you feel it?”

“Yes, I felt it.”

“So Guillermo and if it’s a girl, Guillermina, right?”

“I’ll think about it. I was quite keen on Lucas.”

“Call him Guillermo. Lucas is a bit sissy, a little bit gay, if you know what I mean?”

“I’ll think it over.”

“…”

“Look, haven’t you got a friend who can put you up for a couple of nights?”

“I’ve got one, but she’s gone to spend the weekend in the country.”

“…”

“…”

“If you like I can call my wife and ask her…”

“No, no, it’s fine. To be honest I’d rather be on my own.”

“Not exactly alone – there’s about a million people here.”

“…”

“Not that they’d notice you.”

“…”

“…”

“
Your attention please. The 23.00 El Águila service to Rosario will leave from bay number nine
.”

“Oh no, why would it have to leave right now?”

“…”

“I don’t feel good leaving you like this. Are you sure you don’t want to come to my house? My wife’s an angel, there won’t be any problem.”

“No, really, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, naughty girl. How can you be fine when you’re in such a state?”

“
Last call for the El Águila service to Rosario
.”

“All right, I’m coming! What a bunch of bloody bastards! They make you wait two hours and then they try to hurry you up!”

“…”

“…”

“Thanks.”

“Remember – Guillermo or Guillermina.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Stop saying you’re going to think about it! Do you give so much thought to everything, woman?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“You see? That’s good. You know how to laugh at yourself. That’s a good thing.”

“…”

“I’m going.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye. Good luck.”