A SAHARAN SUN drilled through Daniel’s bedroom curtains and shutters and slapped him in the face. He opened his eyes and witnessed the marvel in disbelief. Next to him lay Bea’s naked back, which he proceeded to lick from her neck all the way down, until she woke up giggling and turned around with a start. Daniel embraced her and kissed her lips slowly, as if he wanted to drink her. Then he moved the sheet aside and took pleasure in gazing at her, caressing her belly with his fingertips until she caught his hand between her thighs and licked his lips with enjoyment.
“It’s Sant Jordi. We’ll be late.”
“I’m sure Fermín has already opened the shop.”
“Fifteen minutes,” conceded Bea.
“Thirty,” replied Daniel.
They ended up with forty-five, give or take a minute.
*
Halfway through the morning, the streets began to liven up. A velvety sun and an electric blue sky draped the city, while thousands of citizens came out into the sunshine to stroll through hundreds of bookstalls set up along pavements and promenades. Señor Sempere had decided to place his stall opposite the bookshop, in the middle of Calle Santa Ana. A number of tables crammed with books displayed their wares in the sunshine. Behind the tables, helping readers, wrapping up books, or simply watching the crowds walk by, was the entire Sempere team. Fermín, who had rid himself of his raincoat, fronted the line-up in his shirtsleeves. Next to him stood Daniel and Bea, minding the accounts and the cash register.
“Where’s the promised deluge?” asked Daniel when he joined the ranks.
“On its way to Sicily, where they need it more. Hey, Daniel, you’re looking pretty roguish this morning. I guess spring is in the air . . .”
Señor Sempere, together with Don Anacleto – who always joined them as a support troop and was a deft hand at wrapping books – sat on chairs and recommended titles to the undecided. Sofía fired up young men who went over to the stall to check her out and ended up buying something. Next to her, Fernandito smouldered with jealousy and a little pride. Even the neighbourhood watchmaker, Don Federico, and his occasional paramour, Merceditas, had come along to help.
The person who most enjoyed it all, however, was little Julián, who delighted in watching the parade of people carrying books and roses. Standing on a box next to his mother, he helped her count the coins while he polished off the Sugus reserves he’d found in the pockets of Fermín’s raincoat. At some point in the middle of the day, Daniel stood there, looking at him and smiling. Julián hadn’t seen his father in such a good mood for ages. Perhaps now that shadow of sadness that had followed him for so long would go away, just like those storm clouds that everyone was talking about and nobody had seen. Sometimes, when the gods aren’t looking and destiny loses its way, even good people get a taste of good luck in their lives.