Toward the end of the afternoon, the guests finally got up from the table to attend a concert of regional songs and dances. Before the traditional group of guitars, lutes, and flutes, a singer began in a deep voice, plucking at Clarence’s very heartstrings with the beautiful theme. Clarence bowed her head and closed her lips tightly to prevent her eyes from filling with tears. The man repeated the verse once more: “The plants grow green again when the month of May arrives. What no longer revives is the love that dies. It’s the love that dies, when the month of May arrives.”
She was capable of waiting to solve the family mystery, but Clarence could not stop thinking about Iniko. Almost three months had gone by since she had gotten back from Bioko. They had not written. What would she have told him? They had not called. What would she have said? She knew he was well through Laha, who sent her an e-mail once a week. That was all.
“What’s wrong, Clarence?” Daniela put a hand on her arm. “And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I don’t believe you. You’ve been distracted and sad the whole day. In fact, ever since you came back from Africa.”
She looked directly at Clarence.
“Did you leave someone there?”
Clarence refused to tell her about the possible existence of a brother for the same reason she did not talk to Jacobo. She was not completely sure. She racked her brain for a vague enough answer. She opted to just let her continue to believe that she had had a romance in distant parts. And in this, she was not lying.
“You are not far wrong, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Fine,” Daniela relented. “But will you see each other again?”
“Hopefully.”
Daniela frowned, but did not press any further. She patted Clarence’s arm and then concentrated on the last piece, which the audience applauded before dispersing.
The cousins went to the bar to order two glasses of punch and bumped into Julia on the way. While Daniela was saying hello to some acquaintances, Clarence decided to use those moments alone with her. Since she had returned from Guinea, Julia was always in a rush, which Clarence found very suspicious. Had Julia regretted putting Clarence on the—fairly useless—trail of a possible lost relation? To avoid her escaping again, she decided to get straight to the point.
“Julia, I’d like to know if this Fernando, older than me, could have been born in some other place like, for example, Bissappoo.”
On hearing the name, Julia immediately looked up at her. She wanted to correct her reaction, but realized that it was too late, and she blushed. Clarence felt a renewed hope.
“I . . .” Julia rubbed her forehead, wavering. “It’s possible that . . .” She paused. “What difference would it make?”
What do you mean, what difference would it make? Clarence thought, wanting to shout it out. That would change everything!
“Simón led me to believe that Jacobo knew Bisila,” she insisted. “Is it true?”
“I’m not telling you anything more, no matter what you say.” Julia’s voice was unequivocal. “Talk to your father.”
“Here’s your drink, Clarence.” Daniela arrived on her uncle’s arm, and Clarence suppressed a curse. “Did you know that your father lasted the whole performance? And you know how little he likes these things!”
Julia turned.
“How are you, Julia?” asked Jacobo. Both hesitated, then finally decided on two pecks on the cheek. “It’s been ages since I last saw you.”
“Yes, a long time. Ridiculous, when you consider how small a place this is.”
“Yes.” Jacobo cleared his throat. “Are you staying long?”
“I’m going back to Madrid next week.”
“We’ll also be going to Barmón soon.”
“Don’t you stay here now you’re retired?”
“We come and go, as always. The habit . . .” Jacobo’s eyes dropped, and he cleared his throat again. “You’re looking very well, Julia. I see time has stood still for you.”
She blushed. For an instant, she imagined if it was Jacobo and not Kilian who had been widowed like herself. Would anything remain of the sparks that flew between them when they were young? She stared at his inflated stomach and raised her eyes to the lines furrowed on his face.
“Thank you very much, Jacobo,” she said in a neutral tone. “And for you too.”
Daniela broke the brief silence. “Hello, Dad,” she said as Kilian came over to the group. “Do you want us to go home now? You look tired.”
“We’ll go now.” He looked at Julia. “How are you?”
“Not as well as you.” Julia waved to a person leaning on a car at the bottom of the slope. “One minute, I’m coming!” she shouted. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I’ll walk with you to the car,” Kilian offered.
He held out his arm so she would not slip on the slope, and they began to move away.
“I’d like to ask you something.” Kilian requested as he paused and looked into her eyes. Despite the wrinkles, Julia was still an attractive woman. “Has Clarence told you about her trip to Guinea?”
“Yes. In great detail.”
She waited. His prominent facial features had softened over the years, and he had one or two dark marks on his cheeks and forehead, but his bearing, his voice, and his green eyes were the same as when he was on Fernando Po. She remembered the long conversations that they used to have when they were young and how lucky she felt to consider him a good friend. She thought she knew him well, but she had later been very disappointed. How could he have lived with that all his life? She would not have been so shocked if it were Jacobo, but him? Yes, it was a shock.
“I burst into tears remembering.” Her tone got harder. “I suppose it was the same for both of you.”
Kilian nodded. “Do you remember, Julia, how irritated Manuel used to get at the laborers and the Bubis with their beliefs in the spirits?”
She nodded as a nostalgic smile appeared on her face.
“After so many years on the island, I became a little affected by it. I don’t know how to explain it, but I have the feeling that one day everything will fall into place.”
Julia pursed her lips. After a few seconds, she said, “I don’t really understand what you mean, but I hope it’s soon, Kilian. We’re closer to the grave than anywhere else.”
“I can assure you I’ve no intention of dying . . .” He saw that she gave him a look of disbelief, and he changed to a forced joking tone. “Until the moment arrives. Until then, promise me that you’ll keep out of this.”
“As if I hadn’t done that all these years?” she retorted. She looked at her friend who, beside the car, pointed at her watch. “Sorry, but I have to go.”
“One more thing, Julia. You once told me that sometimes things are as we would wish them to be. You told me to worm out the reason why I didn’t want to go back to Pasolobino after my father’s death. We made a deal. I would explain my reasons to you and you would tell me a secret, which you then avoided telling me.”
Julia’s eyes began to moisten. Was it possible that he remembered that conversation in such detail? How could she have told him, recently married as she was, that she still had feelings for Jacobo?
“I still don’t agree with you, Julia. Most of the time, things are not the way we would like them to be.”
Julia blinked hard to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. She lowered her head and held on to the man’s arm.
“When I said that, I was very young, Kilian. If only I could relive those years with the experience I have now . . .” She sighed deeply and walked away.