Blood in the Valencian Soil (Secrets of Spain) Read Online Free PDF Page A

don’t even get an opinion on politics in Spain.”
    “You can have an opinion.” Cayetano smiled. “Whether anyone listens is another thing. So, what interests you about the war?”
    “A mystery.”
    “Interesting.”
    “It is. A mystery and a mighty l ong, sad story. One I had hoped to clear up today at the Registro Civil.”
    “What do you need? Maybe I could ask my sister to help you.”
    “I have to come back to Madrid one day and try again,” Luna said. “But thank you. I needed my grandfather’s birth and death certificates. But he died in the war, and the records are not complete.”
    Cayetano nodded. She was clearly a foreigner, because she had just spoken of the civil war in public. It was better, and far more polite, not to talk about the war. That was the case in the family he had been brought up in. “You’re Spanish?”
    “So the rumour says,” she half-smiled and looked over at him. His expression was hidden under his sunglasses. “My grandmother was a nurse during the war. She got pregnant to some Spanish guy, and I only have his name and nothing more. My grandmother went home to New Zealand, and my father was born three months later.”
    “And you want to find out who your grandfather is?”
    “I need to prove I have a Spanish grandparent, so I can be granted permanent citizenship in Spain. My work visa is about to expire, so it’s time to become permanent here.”
    “You don’t want to go home?” Cayetano asked. They turned on to Paseo de la Argentina, a beautiful tree-lined pedestrian avenue, adorned with white marble statues that glistened the sun in the clear sky over them.
    “I have nothing to go home to.”
    “No family?”
    “No.” Luna took a deep breath. The pain of that fact followed her around.
    “You are the opposite of me,” Cayetano replied, and placed his hand over his heart. “I love my family very much, but they are around me all the time.”
    “A bit smothering, is it?”
    “You have no idea.”
    Luna looked around; it seemed as they walked, everyone took a second glance at them, and it seemed strange. She turned and looked to Cayetano who walked with his head down. “Do you get the impression that we’re being watched?”
    “Maybe they’ re thinking, ‘why is the beautiful woman hanging around with that revoltijo? That will be it.”
    “You’re not a mess.” Not at all. He may have been unshaven, with messy hair, but the clothes he wore were an expensive kind of casua l. The sunglasses on his face were not a cheap pair.
    “We are walking the right way to your hotel , ¿no?”
    “Sí. I’m staying on Plaza de la Lealtad, at the Ritz.”
    “I’m not sure I’m classy enough to walk the lady to the Ritz.”
    “But you are my acompañante, my chaperone, here to keep me safe on the mean streets of Madrid,” she joked.
    “I couldn’t leave a lady on her own. By the way, Madrid is the greatest city in the world.”
    “After Valencia, yes, it is.”
    “I’m sorry, but if you believe that, we can’t be friends. Valencia greater than Madrid? Never.”
    “Spain is like sand, it slips through your fingers when you try and hold onto it. It changes in the blink of an eye. While Madrid is busy feeling smug, Valencia could easily be bypassing Madrid as it continuously evolves.”
    “No chance; never going to happen,” Cayetano said as they stopped to cross the street that separated the park from the street to the hotel. They started across the street with the crowds, and were relieved to be back in the shade between the buildings of the narrow street a minute later. The small curved street that the Ritz dominated was quiet. They came to a stop outside the hotel, and Cayetano nodded hello to the doorman who stood very a stute in his black suit.
    “I shall leave the lady for the rest of her day,” Cayetano said formally, and Luna giggled. “But in all seriousness, I hope you’re all right, Luna.”
    “Gracias, Cayetano. I will treat myself to a walk