“I should go,” I hurriedly mutter to Ruth. “I’ll call you later.”
Ana’s looking at me, her expression stark. The hospital courtyard is dead still.
How long has she been standing there? Did she hear me?
I stuff the phone into my pocket. Ana flicks her hair across her shoulders. She takes a packet of cigarettes from her pocket and puts one between her lips. My nails dig into my skin.
“I, uhm, I—”
“Do you want one?” she says, offering me a cigarette.
I hesitate, but then take one. “Thanks.”
Smoking’s another thing Eleanor doesn’t like. Despises, actually. But like a lot of things, I do it anyway, the guilt lingering.
Ana lights her cigarette, passes the lighter to me. “Here.”
I grab it, my fingers shaky. Blood rushes to my face and stings my cheeks. She watches me as I light mine. When I inhale, my stomach lurches with panic.
“Ana, about that phone call—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, waving the words away. “My mother, she doesn’t speak English. So I can imagine it must be difficult to talk to her.”
My brow creases. Ana’s calm, the lines of her mouth pulling upwards, like she’s about to smile.
She’s just trying to be nice.
I shake my head. “Still, I… it was out of line. I’m so sorry if I offended you or your family. It’s all been so stressful.”
My hands keep shaking, the words sounding lame in my head. “Being here in this new environment. And the language. It’s all just very foreign to me. But that’s no excuse.”
“Hey,” she says, leaning in. “I get it. Spain’s a strange place. It’s very welcoming, but also stuck in its ways.”
She shrugs her shoulders. I see no sign of disdain or anger. If someone had spoken about Eleanor like that in front of me, I don’t know what I’d do. Possibly agree. Possibly scratch their eyes out.
My eyes flicker to the floor, then back to her, smoking the cigarette like it’s my first time. Holding it like a newbie. “Sorry, I still feel so awkward.”
“What you say in private is your business,” she says, the cigarette in her hand poised in the air. “Anyone would feel awkward.”
“Bad luck then,” I say, trying to sound funny, but it feels like my heart is in my shoes.
“I bought these at the station,” she says, holding the cigarette pack. “But I’m not supposed to smoke. Do you want it?”
I shake my head. “I usually don’t either.”
She beams, the silence spreading between us.
“I’m happy I got to meet you,” she says. “I’m not sure I would have. If not for this.”
I think of Seb. How cold he was to her in the wardroom, barely looking in her direction. Ana and I aren’t really close.
But why is that? Why can’t he get along with someone who seems so warm? So kind?
“I’m glad I got to meet you too. I’ve wanted to for a while,” I say.
Ana shrugs, takes another drag. “I’m surprised my brother mentioned me to you at all.”
Her eyes are downcast, mouth pulled to one side in contemplation. But before I can say anything, she’s smiling again. “I guess we both got lucky then.”
I think of the picture in the salon. Ana with her pigtails, a head taller than Seb. Within her smile, there’s depth of spirit. Traces of nostalgia and resignation.
There’s pain here.
“He talked about you. Told me you work in consulting. He was so proud when he mentioned that,” I say, glazing the truth with a lie.
Good wives support their husbands, my mother echoes again. Even with little lies.
Ana chuckles, but I only half believe it. “We were close, you know.”
She stubs her cigarette out against the bin. “When we were young. He was always looking for the next big thing. Moving from one thing to the next.”
“Well, then he hasn’t changed much.”
Ana looks to the sky, her face soft. She wraps her beige coat closer around her, meets my gaze. “Listen, I don’t know if Seb told you, but there’s a British couple that lives down the road from our house.”
I nod, my brain circling the minor detail from when we just arrived. “He did actually, yeah.”
“You should meet them,” she says, standing taller. “I’ll introduce you. The woman, Deborah, she’s great. You’ll like her. We can walk over this week.”
Relief floods me, the panic faltering. “I would love that.”
Hope rises through my body, the message clear. Just hold on a little longer.
Since arriving in Gexta, everything has been a challenge. A new obstacle to overcome. The language, the isolation, seeing Seb in a new environment. Alma falling down the stairs. It all pushed my boundaries, maybe a little too far. Making me think that Eleanor was right. Maybe I couldn’t cope on my own.
But hope arrived today. Ana, offering me a lifeline.
“So, should we go back inside?” she says.
We walk back towards the cafeteria, my body buzzing with energy. But this time it’s good. It’s not driven by fear or self-loathing, or accompanied by a primal urge to grab at the razor in my handbag. It’s driven by hope.
It might actually be all right.