“It’s only because you see me with favorable eyes, Fernandito. You’re the one who has changed.”

“That’s what people tell me,” the boy agreed, seemingly happy with the improvement.

“You’ve put on a load of muscle,” said Alicia. “I’m not sure I can go on calling you Fernandito. Now you look like Don Fernando.”

Fernandito blushed and looked down. “You can call me whatever you like, Señorita Alicia.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, which was beginning to show a stubble. Fernandito froze in astonishment and then, in a fit of rapture, threw his arms around her. “I’m glad you’ve come back home. We’ve all missed you a lot.”

“Can I treat you to a . . . ?” Alicia said quickly. “Do you still like cinnamon milk shakes so much?”

“I’ve moved on to rum carajillo.”

“What testosterone can’t achieve . . .”

Fernandito laughed. Despite his newly developed muscles, the hint of a beard, and his new deep voice, he still laughed like a child. Alicia took his arm and dragged him to the Gran Café, where she asked for a carajillo coffee with the best Cuban rum in the house, and a glass of Alella white wine. They toasted for the years of absence, and Fernandito, intoxicated by the rum and Alicia’s presence, told her he had a part-time job doing deliveries for a grocer’s shop in the neighborhood, and a girlfriend called Candela he’d met at the parish Sunday school.

“Promising,” Alicia remarked. “When are you getting married?”

“Married? Those are Aunt Jesusa’s fancies. I’ve barely managed to get Candela to kiss me. She thinks that if there isn’t a priest present, it’s a sin.”

“If there’s a priest present, it spoils the fun.”

“That’s what I say. Besides, with the small amount I earn at the grocer’s, I can’t save a duro for the wedding. Imagine, I signed forty-eight installment payments for the Vespa . . .”

“You’ve got a Vespa?”

“A beauty. It’s thirdhand, but I’ve had it painted and it looks amazing. One of these days I must take you for a ride. It cost me an arm and a leg, and it will go on costing me. We’re a bit tight—the whole family is—since my father got ill and had to leave his job at the rayon factory. All those fumes from the acid. Poor man, they’ve eaten his lungs away.”

“I’m so sorry, Fernandito.”

“That’s life. But for the moment my salary is all that comes into our home, and I’m going to have to find something better.”

“What would you like to do?”

He smiled enigmatically. “Do you know what I’ve always wanted to do? Work with you.”

“But you don’t even know what I do, Fernandito.”

“I’m not as stupid as I look, Señorita Alicia.”

“I never thought you were stupid.”

“A bit of a dreamer, and a bit naive, sure—what can I say that you haven’t experienced yourself? But I have enough brains to know that you’re in the business of mysteries and intrigues.”