I wondered what sort I was.
“Besides, Professor Velázquez is a good friend of my father’s. They both belong to the Society for the Protection and Promotion of Spanish Operetta.”
I tried to look impressed. “A noble calling. And how’s your boyfriend, Lieutenant Cascos Buendía?”
Her smile left her. “Pablo will be here on leave in three weeks.”
“You must be happy.”
“Very. He’s a great guy, though I can imagine what you must think of him.”
I doubt it, I thought. Bea watched me, looking slightly tense. I was about to change the subject, but my tongue got ahead of me.
“Tomás says you’re getting married and you’re going off to live in El Ferrol.”
She nodded without blinking. “As soon as Pablo finishes his military service.”
“You must be feeling impatient,” I said, sensing a spiteful note in my voice, an insolent tone that came from God knows where.
“I don’t mind, really. His family has properties out there, a couple of shipyards, and Pablo is going to be in charge of one of them. He has a great talent for leadership.”
“It shows.”
Bea forced a smile. “Besides, I’ve seen quite enough of Barcelona, after all these years….” Her eyes looked tired and sad.
“I hear El Ferrol is a fascinating place. Full of life. And the seafood is supposed to be fabulous, especially the spider crabs.”
Bea sighed, shaking her head. She looked as if she wanted to cry with anger but was too proud. Instead she laughed calmly.
“After ten years you still enjoy insulting me, don’t you, Daniel? Go on, then, don’t hold back. It’s my fault for thinking that perhaps we coul
d be friends, or pretend to be, but I suppose I’m not as good as my brother. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”
She turned around and started walking down the corridor that led to the library. I saw her move away along the black and white tiles, her shadow cutting through the curtains of light that fell from the gallery windows.
“Bea, wait.”
I cursed myself and ran after her. I stopped her halfway down the corridor, grabbing her by the arm. She threw me a burning look.
“I’m sorry. But you’re wrong: it’s not your fault, it’s mine. I’m the one who isn’t as good as your brother. And if I’ve insulted you, it’s because I’m jealous of that idiot boyfriend of yours and because I’m angry to think that someone like you would follow him to El Ferrol. It might as well be the Congo.”
“Daniel…”
“You’re wrong about me, because we can be friends if you let me try, now that you know how worthless I am. And you’re wrong about Barcelona, too, because you may think you’ve seen everything, but I can guarantee that’s not true. If you’ll allow me, I can prove it to you.”
I saw a smile light up and a slow, silent tear fall down her cheek.
“You’d better be right,” she said. “Because if you’re not, I’ll tell my brother, and he’ll pull your head off like a stopper.”
I held out my hand to her. “That sounds fair. Friends?”
She offered me hers.
“What time do you finish your classes on Friday?” I asked.
She hesitated for a moment. “At five.”
“I’ll be waiting for you in the cloister at five o’clock sharp. And before dark I’ll prove to you that there’s something in Barcelona you haven’t seen yet, and that you can’t go off to El Ferrol with that idiot whom I don’t believe you love, because if you go, the memory of this city will pursue you and you’ll die of sadness.”