Page 139 of The Moon Sister
‘Antonio! Of course, what a wonderful dancer he is. I performed with him once in Barcelona. Why, how is he?’
‘I am waiting for news of him from Spain. I believe that things are difficult there.’
‘Yes, but as you can see, not so difficult that we haven’t arrived safely here.’
‘Then your presence amongst us gives me hope for my brother’s safety. You are performing here in Lisbon?’
‘We were contracted to, yes, but we looked at the venue and found it unsuitable.’
‘Really? So, you will move on? To Paris maybe?’
‘Perhaps, but myself and the company find Lisbon so very pleasant. And of course the hotel,’ Lucía wafted her tiny hand around the bar, ‘has been wonderfully accommodating during our stay.’
‘I must introduce you to my friends at the Café Arcadio. There are many there who would love to see you perform before you leave.’
‘Well, if we have time, señor, we would love to do so.’
‘Then I will take you there tomorrow. Would seven in the evening suit?’
‘Can we fit it in?’ Her eyes fell on Meñique.
‘I am sure we can find space in our busy diary if you wish, señor,’ he replied tightly.
‘We must, Agustín,’ Lucía said firmly, making a point of using his given name, ‘as a favour to an old friend. So, we will come at seven, yes?’
‘I will let my friends know.’
‘Now, you must forgive us, but we have a dinner engagement, señor.’ Lucía drained her glass and stood up.
‘Of course. Until tomorrow, then,’ Manuel said with a bow before Meñique followed Lucía out of the bar.
‘Where are we going?’ Meñique asked her as they left the hotel and began to walk along the pavement.
‘Out for our dinner date of course.’ Lucía kept walking until she reached the end of the building, then led Meñique down the alley at the side of the hotel. ‘I’m sure there must be a staff entrance we can use to slip back inside and sneak up to our room,’ she added.
Meñique grabbed her hand, forced her to a halt, and pinned her to the stone of the wall behind them.
‘Lucía Albaycín, you are impossible!’
Then he kissed her.
25
The following evening, having used the bathtub in Lucía’s suite to wash their stinking costumes, thecuadrowalked through the streets of Lisbon to the Café Arcadio. The grandeur of Lisbon rivalled that of Madrid, and the Café Arcadio, with its regal art nouveau front, immediately indicated the wealth of its clientele. Manuel was waiting for them outside, wearing an immaculate black dinner suit and bow tie.
‘You made it!’ he said, embracing Lucía.
‘Sí, señor, but we cannot stay for long, as we have been asked to dance elsewhere later. May we come inside?’
‘Of course, but . . .’
‘Is there a problem, señor?’ Meñique had picked up on the man’s reticence.
‘The manager, well, it seems he is not a fan of . . . flamenco.’
‘You mean, he doesn’t likegitanos?’ Lucía rounded on him. ‘Then I will speak to him.’
Lucía pushed past Manuel and opened the door to the café. Inside, the air was filled with smoke and chatter, which ceased as Lucía made her way through the tables to the bar at the back.
