19
Sempere hardly tasted his food. He smiled wearily and pretended to be interested in my comments, but I could see that from time to time he was having trouble breathing.
‘Tell me, Martín, what are you working on?’
‘It’s difficult to explain. A book I’ve been commissioned to write.’
‘A novel?’
‘Not exactly. I wouldn’t know how to describe it.’
‘What’s important is that you’re working. I’ve always said that idleness dulls the spirit. We have to keep the brain busy, or at least the hands if we don’t have a brain.’
‘But some people work more than is reasonable, Se?or Sempere. Shouldn’t you take a break? How many years have you been here, always hard at work, never stopping?’
Sempere looked around him.
‘This place is my life, Martín. Where else would I go? To a sunny bench in the park, to feed pigeons and complain about my rheumatism? I’d be dead in ten minutes. My place is here. And my son isn’t ready to take up the reins of the business, even if he thinks he is.’
‘But he’s a good worker. And a good person.’
‘Between you and me, he’s too good a person. Sometimes I look at him and wonder what will become of him the day I go. How is he going to cope . . . ? ’
‘All fathers say that, Se?or Sempere.’
‘Did yours? Forgive me, I didn’t mean to . . .’
‘Don’t worry. My father had enough worries of his own without having to worry about me as well. I’m sure your son has more experience than you think.’
Sempere looked dubious.
‘Do you know what I think he lacks?’
‘Malice?’
‘A woman.’
‘He’ll have no shortage of girlfriends with all the turtle doves who cluster round the shop window to admire him.’
‘I’m talking about a real woman, the sort who makes you become what you’re supposed to be.’
‘He’s still young. Let him have fun for a few more years.’
‘That’s a good one! If he’d at least have some fun. At his age, if I’d had that chorus of young girls after me, I’d have sinned like a cardinal.’
‘The Lord gives bread to the toothless.’
‘That’s what he needs: teeth. And a desire to bite.’
Something else seemed to be going round his mind. He was looking at me and smiling.
‘Maybe you could help . . .’
‘Me?’
‘You’re a man of the world, Martín. And don’t give me that expression. I’m sure that if you apply yourself you’ll find a good woman for my son. He already has a pretty face. You can teach him the rest.’
I was speechless.
‘Didn’t you want to help me?’ the bookseller asked. ‘Well, there you are.’
‘I was talking about money.’
‘And I’m talking about my son, the future of this house. My whole life.’
I sighed. Sempere took my hand and pressed it with what little strength he had left.
‘Promise you’ll not allow me to leave this world before I’ve seen my son set up with a woman worth dying for. And who’ll give me a grandson.’
‘If I’d known this was coming, I’d have stayed at the Novedades Café for lunch.’
Sempere smiled.
‘Sometimes I think you should have been my son, Martín.’
I looked at the bookseller, who seemed more fragile and older than ever before, barely a shadow of the strong, impressive man I remembered from my childhood days, and I felt the world crumbling around me. I went up to him and, before I realised it, did what I’d never done in all the years I’d known him. I gave him a kiss on his forehead, which was spotted with freckles and touched by a few grey hairs.
‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise,’ I said, as I walked to the door.