The Perfect Stranger (32 page)

“Be careful, he’ll bite you!”

Estrellita laughed. “This one? Never!” She rumpled the dog’s fur in a rough caress, speaking to it in her own language. To Faith’s amazement the beast not only endured it but leaned its big, rough head against the girl’s legs as if enjoying such treatment.

“That’s amazing.”

Estrellita gave her a surprised look. “What?”

“I thought he hated women. He’s always growled at me.”

The girl grabbed the huge dog and shook him playfully by the scruff of the neck. “You been growling at Faith here? You stop that, Wulfie—you hear me? She good lady!” The dog’s tail waved gently, and its big, pink tongue lolled in a horrible grin.

Faith couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, we’d better get moving if we’re to have any sort of a walk. Those clouds look like rain to me.”

Their walk was cut short. Heavy, leaden clouds rolled in and, as the sky darkened, they turned back, reaching the inn just as the rain began to pelt down.

Faith was about to hurry back upstairs to Nicholas, when Estrellita detained her by a tentative hand on the arm. “You and me friends, yes?” She looked embarrassed.

“Yes, of course.” Faith wondered what would make the normally bold and self-confident girl look so diffident.

“I want ask you something? So nobody can hear us talk. Is all right?”

“Yes, certainly.” Faith couldn’t imagine what she wanted to talk about. She glanced around to see where they could be private. “There is a balcony upstairs overlooking the sea. I’m sure we can talk there and still be sheltered from the rain. Is that private enough?”

“Sí.”
They went upstairs and found the balcony. It was a little cold and damp, but not enough to be uncomfortable. They found a narrow bench and sat down, side by side.

“Now, what did you want to ask me about?” Faith said.

“About diddling. You like it or not?”

Faith wrinkled her brow. “Diddling? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“What you do with Capitaine Nick.” Estrellita made a crude gesture with fingers and thumb.

It took Faith a moment to realize what she was doing, and when she did, her face flamed. “Estrellita!” She stared at the girl, half-shocked, half-amused, but she quickly realized her reaction had upset the girl.

She did her best to swallow her embarrassment and hastened to reassure her. “I’m sorry, you surprised me, that’s all. I’ve never seen…or heard anyone refer to it quite like that. In fact, I’ve never really heard anyone refer to it at all—except for my oldest married sister, once and very briefly.”

Years ago she and Hope had hounded Charity to tell them about it, after Charity was married. But they’d just said “it,” and Charity had blushed bright red and said nothing much, only that the husband would explain, and that it was nothing to worry about. When they continued to pelt her with questions, she’d blushed even redder and added in a whisper that it was very agreeable.

“I have no sister to ask,” Estrellita said baldly.

Faith swallowed, knowing she must also be bright red. She wondered how much detail the girl wanted to go into. A girl who could make such graphic movements with her fingers needed no explanation, surely. “Wh—what do you want to know?”

“When you do it with Capitaine Nick, you like it or not?”

“I like it.”

Estrellita pursed her full lips, dissatisfied with her brief answer. “Like it much or is bearable?”

“I like it very much.” She took Estrellita’s hand. “It’s wonderful, Estrellita. The best feeling in the whole world.”

“Better than a full belly?”

Faith blinked. Estrellita was only too familiar with hunger, she realized. “Yes. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been hungry all my life, and now, with him, I will never feel hunger again.”

The gypsy girl nodded thoughtfully. “Better than kissing?”

“Yes, better than kissing. In fact, you kiss at the same time.”

The girl’s eyes opened wide in surprise at that. She rose and paced a few steps back and forth along the narrow balcony, deep in thought. Then she turned. “I only do it once, and it terrible.”

“The first time can be a little uncomfort—”

The girl stared out to sea, her body stiff, and said without looking at Faith, “A soldier, he rape me.”

Faith jumped up and put her arms around the girl’s hunched shoulders. “Oh, Estrellita, I’m so sorry.”

“After the battle at V—” Estrellita cut herself off suddenly. “After big battle,” she amended. “He alone—I think he coward, maybe, run and hide from battle. I, too, hide. All girls in Spain know what soldier do if find girl alone.” She shrugged. “But I young and stupid. Not hide well enough. Not know how bad it be.” She fell silent, brooding over the unchangeable past. And then she shuddered with remembered horror.

Faith held her tighter, taking in the implications. The fighting in Spain had been over for years. Estrellita was the same age as she was. With trepidation she asked, “How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Oh, dear God.”

After a while Estrellita gave a loud sniff and said in a matter-of-fact tone, “I kill him after, when he sleep. I slit his throat.”

Faith, horrified, stroked the tangled curls and said fiercely, “I’m glad you did, Estrellita. So glad you did! It was the right thing to do.”

The girl nodded. “I lose my honor, but I get my revenge.”

“I lost my honor, too,” Faith said softly. The girl’s head came up in surprise, and Faith explained. “It was before I met Nicholas. I ran off with another man and though I thought we were married, he had tricked me. It wasn’t rape, but I still lost my honor. I thought no decent man would marry me.” She felt her eyes prickle with tears. “But Nicholas did. He hardly knew me, he knew what I’d done, and still he married me. That’s why I say you don’t have to worry about him and your Old One.”

They sat for a long time, staring out to sea, thinking their separate thoughts. Then Estrellita asked, “This other man—the one who trick you—you like diddling with him?”

Faith considered it. Oddly, since that first night with Nicholas, she hadn’t really considered the matter. “It was all right,” she said. “Quite pleasant. But I often felt lonely afterward. With Nicholas, it’s different. I feel so much…more. And afterward he holds me, and I feel so happy that sometimes I wonder that my heart hasn’t burst.” Her eyes blurred with tears again, and she wiped them away. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

Estrellita laid a grubby brown paw on Faith’s hand. “You love him much and so you worry much. But he not die, Faith—not here, not now.” She spoke with solemn certainty.

Faith looked into the girl’s deep brown eyes, trying desperately to make herself believe her words were true. But she didn’t believe anyone could know the future. “I’m sorry, Estrellita, I hope you don’t mind if we finish now. I really have to go to my husband.”

She gave a sad smile. “I not mind. You help me, Faith. Thank you. I owe you much.”

Faith stepped inside and turned to tell Estrellita that friends didn’t have debts, but the words that came out were different. “Estrellita, I have four sisters who I miss very much. I cannot imagine what it would be like to have no sisters at all. And right now, I need a sister with me, and I think you do, too. If you like, you and I could become sisters, sisters of the road.”

The gypsy girl stared as if unable to believe her ears. Finally she whispered. “You mean this, Faith—true?”

Faith nodded, feeling too emotional to speak.

Estrellita’s eyes flooded with tears, and she leapt forward and hugged Faith hard around the neck. Then she drew back and with grave dignity kissed Faith on each cheek. Their tears mingled as she repeated the words like a vow, “Sisters of the road.”

Nicholas remained insensible for a day and a night. Faith was beside herself. She paced up and down. She forced Stevens to fetch the doctor, but took one look at his red face and drunkenly swaying form and sent him away.

Not even the sight of Estrellita braiding red ribbons into Beowulf’s woolly coat comforted her. Nor the roar of fury Mac gave when he saw his dog turned into what he called “a bloody sissy!” Even the spirited argument that resulted failed to distract her. The only thought in her mind was of Nicholas.

He woke around eight the next day. He was a little disoriented at first, but after he’d eaten, and drunk a few coffees, he seemed quite as usual. But Faith was still anxious. It was simply not normal to sleep so long, especially the kind of sleep from which he could not be woken, and she said so. “I want you to consult the next sober doctor we find, Nicholas.”

“Absolutely not! I’ve had enough of quacks prodding and poking at me.”

“But—”

“No!” The word was explosive, and she flinched. Her reaction made him notice how worried she was. He sat her down on the bed and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry to snap. When these headaches first started, I consulted a doctor—in fact in the end I saw several, some of the finest doctors in England. I know what the problem is, and it’s nothing you need worry about. It is a minor inconvenience, that’s all.”

“But—”

“We’ve lost a little time, that is all. If I can cope with it, I’m sure you can, too.”

Faith had no choice but to accept his word for it. He was not going to change, she could see that. But she’d caught the implication; he’d consulted doctors—in the plural—which meant it was serious. Not just migraines, something like epilepsy, perhaps? A minor inconvenience, he’d called it.

What would a soldier call a minor inconvenience?

Chapter Thirteen

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old Time is still a-flying. And this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying.

R
OBERT
H
ERRICK

A
CCORDING TO
N
ICHOLAS’S CALCULATIONS THEY WOULD REACH
Bilbao in one more day. After some discussion, he and Faith decided to spend the last night camping on the beach near the small fishing village of Biarritz.

It was a warm, balmy night. Stevens had bought some fish from the local fishermen, and Faith had helped him cook up a magnificent dinner, which they ate around the campfire.

After dinner, by request, Nicholas pulled out his guitar and played. He played a number of familiar airs, a couple of Faith’s favorites, at least one for Stevens, and the “Mingulay Boat Song” for Mac. Faith knew the words and sang along, her voice cracking with emotion as she always did when she got to the women’s part of the song:

We are waiting by the harbor,

We’ve been waiting since break of day-o,

We are waiting by the harbor

As the sun sets on Mingulay.

Waiting for the men who didn’t come home. Women’s part in life was one of such helplessness, with no option but to wait for their men to come home, praying for their safety, not knowing how they fared. Why did men never take their women with them? It would be so much kinder than leaving them behind, waiting and wondering.

And then as Faith blew her nose and tried to recover her composure, Nicholas switched to a flamboyant Spanish song, and after a few bars, Estrellita rose to her feet with a swish of skirts and began to dance.

Faith had never seen anything like it. She knew instinctively that this was true gypsy dancing and nothing like the silly imitation Felix used in his performances. How long ago it seemed. Felix had had no idea. Of anything, she thought, and dismissed him forever from her mind.

Estrellita danced barefoot in the sand, her small brown feet stamping and twirling, her toes delicately pointing up one minute, stamping her heels the next. It was passion and discipline, ancient tradition and the fire of the moment, all wrapped together. Her body moved in lithe coils, twirling, bending, swaying. Each part of her was magic, the movements of her hands, sometimes clapping, sometimes making a rhythmic clicking noise.

The song ended, and before anyone could clap, “Another,” she demanded like a small queen. Nicholas obliged, his fingers almost invisible as he plucked fiery music from the strings of the guitar. It was magic.

Estrellita danced to song after song: fast ones which were a mad frenzy of gypsy spirit, slow ones which were so sensuous Faith felt as if she might be witnessing something private.

“You are good,
Capitaine
,” she said after three songs. “But do you know this one?” And she said a name that Faith didn’t catch.

Nicholas thought for a moment. “Is this it?” He strummed a few chords.

“Ah
sí, Capitaine
, it is that one. So play!” she demanded with an imperious gesture. She stalked to the middle of the clearing and waited, her head cast down, her body poised, as if she were on the stage in some great capital.

Nicholas played, and her head snapped up, and she began to dance. The song started slowly. Estrellita’s movements were mesmerizing, slow at first, then faster.

It was a story she was telling, Faith thought, of innocence and betrayal, of pride, and of hopeless yearning. Her movements plucked the heartstrings, each gesture laden with emotion. Faith did not fully understand it, but she had tears in her eyes by the time Estrellita sank to the dust, exhausted, as Nicholas played the dying chords of the song.