‘SEÑORITA, I BEG you. One coin only.’
‘What?’ Startled, I stood up. The man was bigger than me, his eyes enormous, brown seeping to almost black in a face that was gaunt and grey with unshaved stubble.
‘I need money,’ he said. ‘I’ve walked all morning and found none. I cannot go home empty-handed to my wife and my son.’ He held out his hand, palm up.
I was suddenly aware that I was alone with this ruffian inside the empty church. I pulled my veil down over my face and took a step back.
He came forward – so very close to me. His mouth opened, showing blackened and missing teeth. An overpowering foul odour. His outstretched hand brushed mine.
I shrieked in alarm.
Ramón came running down the aisle from the main door.
‘My son is hungry. My wife is very ill. She needs medicine. One coin would buy something to ease her discomfort,’ the man gabbled at me.
But I paid no heed to his pleas. The smell of him and the contact of his fingers, with their roughened skin and broken fingernails, repelled me. That a peasant would go so far as to try to grasp the hand of a woman of my status was outrageous.
‘He touched me!’ I screamed. ‘This man actually touched me!’
Ramón looked at me in horror. His face turned red with fury. ‘You assaulted this woman!’ he yelled at the beggar.
‘N-no!’ the man stuttered in confusion. ‘I was only asking for a coin.’ He looked at me, as if I might verify what he said.
In fear, I shook my head and sobbed again. ‘He touched me.’
‘For that you die!’ cried Ramón, and tried to pull his sword from its scabbard. But he wasn’t practised enough to do this in one movement. It caught on his tunic, and he swore and snatched his dagger from his belt.
The beggar turned and rushed out of the side door.
Ramón gave chase, and I, terrified to be left on my own, gathered up my skirts and ran after them both.