ALICIA WOKE UP on the back seat of the taxi. She sat up and realized she was alone. The windows were steamed up. She wiped the pane with her sleeve and saw that they’d stopped at a petrol station. A streetlamp projected a yellowish beam that vibrated every time a truck thundered past on the road. In the distance, a leaden dawn was spreading across the sky, sealing it without leaving a single crack. She rubbed her eyes and rolled down the window. A sudden gust of icy air pulled her out of her drowsiness. A stabbing pain ran through her hip. She let out a moan and held her side. Soon the pain subsided to a dull throb, a warning of what was to come. The wisest thing would have been to take a pill or two before the pain sharpened, but she wanted to stay alert. She had no other choice. After a few minutes, she saw the profile of the taxi driver emerging from the petrol station bar, carrying two paper cups and a bag with greasy stains. He raised a hand to greet her and walked briskly around the car.
“Good morning,” he said as he sat down at the wheel again. “It’s cold as hell out there. I’ve brought you some breakfast. More roadside delicacy than continental, but at least it’s hot. Coffee with milk and some deep-fried pastry sticks that looked good. I asked them to pour a bit of brandy into the coffee, to lift the spirits.”
“Thanks. Let me know what I owe you.”
“It’s all included in the fare, full board. Go on, eat a bit. It will do you good.”
They had their breakfast in silence, inside the car. Alicia wasn’t hungry, but she knew she needed to eat. Every time another one of those heavy-duty trucks went by, the rear-view mirror vibrated and the whole car shook.
“Where are we?”
“Ten kilometres outside Madrid. A couple of delivery-van drivers told me there are Civil Guard controls at most of the entrances of the main roads coming from the east, so I thought we could make a detour and go in through the Casa de Campo road or through Moncloa.”
“And why would we do that?”
“I don’t know. It just occurred to me that a Barcelona taxi entering Madrid at seven o’clock in the morning might attract attention. Because it’s yellow, that’s all. And we two make a bit of an odd couple, no offence. But you’re the boss.”
Alicia finished her coffee in one gulp. The brandy burned like petrol, but warmed her bones a little. The taxi driver was looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Alicia hadn’t paid much attention to him until then. He was younger than he seemed, with reddish hair and pale skin. His glasses were held together over the nose bridge with insulating tape, and he still looked like a teenager.
“What’s your name?” asked Alicia.
“Mine?”
“No. The taxi’s.”
“Ernesto. My name is Ernesto.”
“Do you trust me, Ernesto?”
“Are you trustworthy?”
“Up to a point.”
“I see. Do you mind if I ask you a rather personal question?” said the taxi driver. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Fire ahead. What’s on your mind?”
“That’s what’s on my mind, actually. Firing. Earlier, when we left Guadalajara, we took a sharp bend, and all the stuff in your bag ended up on the back seat. As you were asleep, I didn’t want to bother you, and I put it all back . . .”
Alicia sighed, nodding. “And you saw that I’m carrying a gun.”
“Well, yes. And it didn’t look much like a water pistol, although, quite frankly, I’m no expert on the subject.”
“If that makes you feel more at ease, you can drop me off here. I’ll pay you what we agreed, and then I’ll ask one of your truck-driver friends in there to drive me up to Madrid. I’m sure one of them will agree.”
“I haven’t the slightest doubt about that, but I wouldn’t feel too happy about it.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”
“No, I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about the truck drivers, to be honest. I’ll take you, which is what we’d agreed, and no more discussions.” Ernesto started the car and pressed both hands on the wheel. “Where are we going?”
*
They found a city shrouded in fog. A wave of mist crept over the towers and domes crowning the rooftops on Gran Vía. Veils of metallic steam wafted through the streets, wrapping themselves around cars and buses that were trying to advance with their headlights barely scratching the fog. The traffic moved forward slowly, blindly, and the figures of pedestrians on the pavements looked like frozen ghosts.
When they drove past the Hotel Hispania, her official residence during those past years, Alicia looked up to gaze at what had been her window. They continued advancing through central Madrid under that shroud of darkness, until the silhouette of Neptune’s fountain rose before them.
“Where now?” asked Ernesto.
“Keep going until Lope de Vega, turn right, and then go up along Duque de Medinaceli, which is the first street.”
“Weren’t you going to the Hotel Palace?”
“We’re going to the back of the hotel. The kitchen entrance.”
The taxi driver nodded and followed her instructions. The streets were almost deserted. The Gran Hotel Palace took up an entire block shaped like a trapezoid, a city in itself. He drove around the perimeter until they came to a corner where Alicia asked him to park behind a van from which men were unloading boxes with bread loaves, fruit, and other food supplies.
Ernesto lowered his head to look up at the monumental facade.
“Here you are. As promised,” she said.
The driver turned around to find a wad of notes in Alicia’s hand. “Wouldn’t you rather I waited for you?”
Alicia didn’t reply.
“Because you are coming back, aren’t you?”
“Take the money.”
The driver hesitated.
“You’re making me waste my time. Take the money.”
Ernesto accepted his pay.
“I trust you.”
“It’s up to you.”
Ernesto watched her as she pulled something out of her bag and then slipped it under her jacket. He was sure it wasn’t a lipstick.
“Listen, I don’t like this. Why don’t we leave?”
“You’re the one who’s leaving, Ernesto. As soon as I get out, return to Barcelona and forget you ever saw me.”
The taxi driver felt his stomach shrink. Alicia put her hand on his shoulder, pressed it affectionately, and stepped out of the car. A few seconds later Ernesto saw her vanish into the Gran Hotel Palace.