DRESSED IN BLACK from head to toe, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses that reflected a crowded Calle de Santa Ana disappearing into the distance, Alicia took a few steps forward. She sheltered under the arches of a front door and furtively observed the Sempere family as they sold books, chatted with passers-by, and enjoyed that special day in a way she knew she never would.
She smiled when she saw Fermín snatch books from gullible readers and change them for others; when she saw Daniel and Bea brush against one another and exchange glances in a language that filled her with envy but that she knew she didn’t deserve; or Fernandito entranced with his Sofía, and Grandfather Sempere gazing at his family and friends with satisfaction. She would have liked to walk up to them and say hello. Tell them they no longer had anything to fear, and thank them for having let her enter their lives, even if just for a short time. She wanted, more than anything in the world, to be one of them, but taking that memory with her would be reward enough. She was about to leave when she encountered a look that made time stop.
Little Julián was staring at her, a sad smile on his face, as if he could read her thoughts. The boy raised a hand, waving goodbye. Alicia returned the gesture. A moment later, she had disappeared.
“Who are you waving to, sweetheart?” asked Bea when she saw her son looking hypnotized, his eyes riveted on the crowd.
Julián turned to look at his mother, and reached for her hand. Fermín had come over to stock up on the Sugus reserve, which he naively thought was still in his raincoat, and found his pockets empty. He’d turned to look at Julián, ready to raise hell, when he too noticed the boy’s expression and followed his enraptured glance.
*
Alicia.
Fermín felt her in her absence, with no need to see her, and blessed the heavens, or whoever had taken those clouds to other pastures, for having returned her to him one more time. Perhaps Bernarda was right after all, and in this lousy world, sometimes, some things did end the way they should.
He grabbed his raincoat and leaned towards Bea, who was just accepting payment for a whole set of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle books from a young boy with very thick glasses.
“Listen, boss, Junior here has cleared out my ammo, and my blood sugar has plunged to Russian Revolution levels. In view of the fact that everyone here, except for that halfwit Merceditas, is overqualified for the job at hand, I’m going off to see if I can find some quality confectioner’s to top up my provisions. And while I’m out and about, I’ll buy a rose for Bernarda.”
“I have some roses reserved at the florists by the entrance to the church,” said Bea.
“What you don’t think of . . .”
Bea watched him hurry off and frowned.
“Where’s Fermín going?” asked Daniel.
“God knows . . .”