“Daniel is a lucky man,” murmured Alicia.

“Are you trying to flatter me?”

“A married woman and a mother? I would never dare.”

“I thought you were supposed to be asleep,” said Bea.

“So did I.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Do you mean the wound?”

Bea didn’t reply.

Alicia still had her eyes closed. “Just a bit,” she said. “The anesthetic has numbed it.”

“How did you get it?”

“It was during the war. In the bombings.”

“I’m sorry.”

Alicia shrugged.

“It helps me keep suitors away.”

“I bet you have loads.”

“None worth the candle. The best men fall in love with women like you. They only want me to fantasize about.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for you, forget it.”

Alicia smiled.

“Don’t think they don’t fantasize about me,” ventured Bea with a chuckle.

“I haven’t the slightest doubt.”

“Why are they so stupid sometimes?” asked Bea.

“Men? Who knows. Perhaps it’s because nature is a mother, though a cruel one, and she leaves them silly at birth. But some of them aren’t that bad.”

“That’s what Bernarda says.”

“And your Daniel?”

Bea sharpened her eyes. “What about my Daniel?”

“Nothing. He seems to be a nice guy. A good soul.”

“He has his dark side, believe me.”

“Because of what happened to his mother? To Isabella?”

“What do you know about Isabella?”

“Very little.”

“You were a much better liar without the anesthetic.”

“Can I trust you?”

“I can’t see you have much choice. The question is whether I can trust you.”

“Do you doubt it?”

“Absolutely.”

“There are things about Isabella, about her past . . . ,” Alicia began. “I think Daniel has a right to know them, but I’m not sure whether in fact it would be better if he never did.”

“Alicia?”

Alicia opened her eyes and found Bea’s face almost touching hers. She felt her pressing her hand tightly.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to ask one thing of you. I’ll only tell you once.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t ever think of harming Daniel or my family.”

Alicia held that gaze, which became so commanding she hardly dared to breathe.

“Swear you won’t.”

Alicia gulped. “I swear.”

Bea nodded and sat back in her chair again. Alicia saw her half close her eyes.

“Bea?”

“What is it now?”

“There’s something . . . The other night, when I walked with Daniel to your front door . . .”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

7

The passing storm had given Barcelona that electric-blue tinge that can only be enjoyed on certain winter mornings. The sun had kicked away the clouds, and a clean light floated in the air, so liquid it could have been bottled. Señor Sempere, who had woken up with unalloyed optimism and, ignoring the doctor’s advice, downed a large cup of black coffee that tasted wonderfully rebellious, decided that it was going to be a memorable day.

“We’re going to have more takings than a Molino variety show during Lent,” he announced. “You’ll see.”