Tapestry of Fear (15 page)

“Ah, now comes the action. And what action! Haven't seen anything like it since nineteen thirty-seven. If we had had the Villada's with us then, Pedro, the whole course of the war could have been altered!”

Terrified that she was about to digress once more, I said carefully. “What … happened … then?”

“Really, Alison. There is no need to talk like that. I'm not a child you know. Or deaf. What happened was this. The Villada's stepped into the inn, walking slowly and steadily towards the bar and the turned backs of Garmendia and Cia. Then, so quickly that I hardly saw, they had whipped the men round, slamming their fists into their jaws sending them sprawling and snatching their guns from them. I've never seen anything quite like it before. It was quite extraordinary. Perfect co-ordination. With the guns out of the way it simply developed into a fist fight. I did skirt round them, picking up the guns they had slung across the floor. If either Garmendia or Cia had reached them it would have been the end. Then I stood in the doorway,” she nodded in the direction of the swinging beaded curtain that led back into the inn, “ and watched.”

“Please,” I said. “ Where is Jose now. And Garmendia?”

“There you go again, Alison. Rushing things. Of course it was difficult to watch both sets of men fighting at the same time, so I concentrated on Jose, I was worried about his shoulder and if things had got sticky I would have had no hesitation in making use of one of the guns. German Walthers P38's,” she said to Pedro. “I haven't used one since the war, felt quite strange having one in my hand again.… Anyway, Jose seemed to be doing quite all right without my help. Garmendia broke away from Jose's grasp and was glancing wildly round for his gun … then Jose rushed him, sending him flying once more, but Garmendia was quick. He was back on his feet in seconds and gave Jose a really solid punch to the jaw … but Jose didn't break away. They stayed locked together and I could see blood but I didn't know if it was Angel's or Jose's, and then Garmendia split Jose's lip and Jose kneed him in the groin and then they were both on the floor, and it was very hard to tell who was winning and who was losing. Garmendia was trying to get a firm hold of Jose's throat and I really thought I would have to intervene, but he twisted away, out of Garmendia's grasp and staggered to his feet again and then Garmendia kicked out at him and Jose fell on him, pinning him to the floor and Romero and Cia were already rolling around in the dust, locked so close together that I couldn't tell what was happening … and all the time that incredible barman just kept on polishing his glasses. There was an awful lot of grunting and swearing and cries of pain and then it did seem that Garmendia had the upper hand and was going to throttle Jose. Quite understandable … Jose having been so recently wounded,” she explained kindly, “I began to walk across to them trying to keep out of Romero and Cia's way, they were swaying and falling all over the place … and then Garmendia was on his knees and Jose had his arm round his neck and I really think he would have strangled him then and there, but Garmendia heaved himself forward throwing Jose off balance and then ran from the inn and out into the street with Jose panting and running after him. I didn't see what happened then, as I dare not leave Romero who finally seemed to be weakening, but I heard Garmendia's car roar into life and seconds later Jose's car scream out of the street and down the hill, so I presumed that it was Jose chasing Garmendia … but by this time Romero was definitely getting the worst of it and I thought enough was enough. I had to yell quite loud to be heard, in actual fact I had to fire the gun before anyone would take any notice of me. I kept it levelled at Cia who seemed quite surprised … and then Romero struggled to his feet, and his face was dreadfully marked, he'll have the bruises for weeks, and with me pointing the gun at Cia he managed to tie his hands behind his back and gag him. Not that he could have called for help anyway. It was patently obvious that no-one in Cotanes was going to intervene, but his language was quite offensive.”

“And where,” Pedro asked. “ Is Cia now?”

“Why, in the inn's cellars. Didn't I tell you? Romero's down there with him now, trying to find out where Garmendia may be making for.”

“Holy saints,” Pedro breathed devoutly. “ Take us to him now, this very minute.”

“There's no hurry,” Miss Daventry said, petulent at losing her audience. “ There's nothing more we can do.”

“There is,” I said tightly. “ There is still Jose.”

“Oh, he'll come to no harm,” Miss Daventry said airily. “If ever a man can look after himself, that one can.”

“The cellars,” Pedro repeated, struggling for calm.

Miss Daventry rose to her feet, smoothing out the creases in her dress. “If you insist. Though I'm sure Romero will be coming back at any moment.”

“We insist,” Javier said.

She shrugged. “Very well then. Follow me.”

We followed her back into the inn, passing the whole length of the zinc topped bar, ignoring the barman as he ignored us, and then through a narrow doorway and down into the gloom of a large cellar stacked high with cobwebby casks.

“Romero,” Miss Daventry called out breezily. “ We have company. Alison is here. And Pedro. And Javier.”

There was a half-choked sigh of relief and then Romero was at the bottom of the steps looking unbelievingly up at us. His handsome face was streaked with dirt and sweat, a swelling bruise distorting his left cheek, the blood running from a cut lip, smearing stickily down over his chin, staining his shirt a ghastly red.

We moved back, allowing him to climb the stairs. I gave him an inadequate handkerchief and he dabbed at the still flowing blood.

“I can't get any sense from him,” he said to Javier. “God alone knows where they are.”

“How did you do it?” Javier asked. “How in the name of all that is wonderful, did you do it?”

Romero managed a sheepish grin. “We took a police car at gunpoint. Took their clothes
and
their car, and left them in their underwear, tied and bound, and as far from a main road as it is possible to get!”

Pedro threw his head back and laughed, slapping his paunch.

“Superb, my friend. Superb. And now, for all of us. A drink.”

“Jose,” I said for the hundredth time. “ There is still Jose,” then I stiffened as the faint sound of a car engine throbbed in the distance. We looked at each other, frozen into immobility.

Was it the police? Or Garmendia coming back for Cia after killing Jose? Or was it, please God … Jose?

I wasn't the only one who seemed unable to react. In the end it was Miss Daventry who said briskly. “ Leave me a gun, just in case. The rest of you go down into the cellar.”

It seemed as sensible a suggestion as any. The barman's face didn't flicker. As far as he was concerned he was seeing nothing, hearing nothing, and telling nothing.

The cellar smelt stale and damp, and with the door shut the darkness was total. I wondered where Alphonso Cia was, if he should free himself … if he should pounce upon us unawares and defenceless.

Over the heavy drumming of my own heartbeat I strained to hear what was going on above, every nerve stretched, waiting for the vibration of other footsteps.…

Minutes passed and still nothing happened. We were crammed together and I could feel the damp perspiration that was soaking Javier's shirt and the faint smell of garlic on Pedro's breath.

I heard the faint click of footsteps upon stone, and then footsteps, but more than those of one person. It couldn't be Jose. It was the police … my whirling brain tried to think straight. We were in France now. Surely that meant we had nothing to fear? Surely the Spanish police couldn't operate so far beyond the frontier? Or was it the French police? Could we be extradited? I began to feel sick, longing for fresh air.

The door above us opened, and the next few seconds lasted an eternity. Then I was following Javier out into the stone floored room, gazing uncomprehendingly at Eugenio.

“Thank goodness …” I began, and then my legs buckled under me, weak with relief. Javier caught hold of me, pressing me down onto a chair, saying: “Don't faint now. Not for Eugenio's sake!”

Briefly, far more briefly than Miss Daventry, Javier told him what had happened. Eugenio gazed open-eyed at the indomitable Miss Daventry.

“And we still have no idea where they have gone.…” Javier finished.

Eugenio still seemed lost for words. “ Tut, tut,” Miss Daventry said, giving his shoulder a shake. “Have you lost your ability to speak? What we need now is a bit of action!”

“Haven't you had enough of that already?” Javier asked dazedly.

She ruffled his hair as if he were a boy of ten. “ You don't know the meaning of the word. One day, when we have time, I'll tell you what it was like in nineteen thirty-six and seven. And about Guernica too. Alison is quite right. What matters now is Jose.”

“Tell me slowly, once again, what happened,” Pedro said, his black eyebrows meeting together as his brow furrowed in thought.

“Garmendia ran. He reached his car and I heard it screech round the corner and then seconds later Jose took the police car they had so shrewdly obtained, and hared off after him.”

“But where to?” I asked distractedly, staring round at the blank circle of faces, “In which direction would he have gone?”

Eugenio said quietly. “ I passed no-one on the road leading to Cotanes, so that means they must have branched off onto the first main road. I could follow. I came here on Antonio's motor-bike and it's pretty fast, but I don't think there's much chance of catching them up. They could have turned right or left at the main road, who knows? And if Jose has already caught up with Garmendia, I'd be too late to be of help anyway.”

Even Romero's shoulders sagged in agreement. With strained faces they sat down on the scattered bar stools, and the imperturbable barman poured ice-cold beer into glasses. I stared down into mine, feeling utterly helpless. To have come all this way, the tension within me mounting with every passing minute, and now, nothing. Nothing to do but wait. I stood up, the glass still held in my hands, striding the floor first one way and then another. There must be something we could do … anything would be better than this nerve destroying inactivity.

Javier walked across to me. “I think perhaps we need to talk, Alison. A lot has happened and I think you need some things explaining to you. I wondered before, but back in Bayonne I became sure. Let's find some privacy.”

I followed him across the room and out through the rustling curtain into the courtyard, dazzling white in the heat of the sun, all traces of mist and rain far away. I felt Miss Daventry's eyes following me, openly interested. It was obvious she now knew I was in love with Jose. But did she know how much? Could anyone ever know how much?

Please God, I prayed silently. Please let him be alive. Please let him come striding through the doorway big and strong, his hair in a knot of tangled curls, his eyes sparkling with laughter.…

Javier took my hand. “ It's been a hell of a week for all of us,” he said, and ridiculously I began to cry. “ So much has happened that I think perhaps you and Jose have been taking things a little too much for granted.”

I turned my head away staring resolutely at a peacock butterfly dancing amongst the wisteria blossoms as Javier led me to a seat beneath the heavy scent of a magnolia tree. Here it comes, I thought. Kind friend spelling things out clearly for me. Not wanting me to make a fool of myself any longer.

I said. “ It's all right, Javier. I know. I knew in Bayonne. But I chose to come here for my own reasons. I knew my coming wouldn't make the situation any different. As soon as I know that Jose is safe I shall leave.”

“There you are!” Javier said, one foot up on the wicker bench beside me, gazing down at me his dark eyes full of concern. “You're still not listening to me, are you? How do you think Jose would feel if, as soon as we knew he was still alive, you raced straight across France for home?”

“Relieved, I should think,” I said with an effort at a laugh. “ I'm sorry, Javier. I know he would want to see me, to thank me, to say goodbye properly, but I don't want it that way.” I pushed a tracery of leaves away, plucking at a fallen magnolia blossom, my voice shaking a little, despite my desperate efforts at self control. “I couldn't bear it. I've seen him leave me once. To ask me to do it again is too much.” I looked helplessly at him, willing him to understand. “ I love him, Javier. I shall not have the strength to turn round and leave him, without betraying my feelings. And I've too much pride for that.”

“Alison, Alison,” Javier said gently, sitting down beside me, taking my hand once more. “ Is it because of Carmen?”

I let the petals scatter to the ground, not trusting myself to speak, just nodding my head.

“Carmen,” Javier said, speaking slowly and clearly, “is engaged to Luis.”

The words seemed to hang forever in the sweet-ladened air.

“To Luis,” I repeated faintly.

“To Luis,” Javier said firmly. “ They have been sweethearts since childhood.”

The butterfly ventured nearer, flickering round the edge of the leaves.

“But I thought.…” The courtyard was spinning, whirling round me and Javier was steadying me, saying with a laugh.

“I know what you thought, idiot. But not till I saw your reaction when Carmen arrived in Bayonne and Jose went to meet her.”

“You mean there is nothing between them …?” I could hardly breathe, my chest felt as if it were bursting.

“There's something between them all right,” Javier said cheerfully. “A bond that goes back to childhood, and the knowledge that very soon they will be brother and sister-in-law.”