Indiscretion Read Online Free PDF Page A

on the platform.
    As she stood there, with the sun on her face, taking in the sights and smells that seemed strange, yet curiously familiar, Alexandra felt she had stepped out from the shadows of her old life into the dazzling light of a new world. The momentary annoyance at being left alone with her luggage suddenly vanished. England was never further away than at this moment — a dull moth to the colourful butterfly of Spain — and she ached to unfurl her own wings and discover it all. This was the stuff of novels, and yet here she was. The thought made her stomach tense with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
    It was then that a gypsy woman, dressed in bright colours and bearing fans and red roses, accosted her. ‘
Hermosa joven
, beautiful young lady, buy one of my roses, fresh-picked this morning. It will bring you luck.’
    Alexandra met the falcon-dark orbs that were watching her slyly. The gypsy was of an uncertain age with a nest of coal-black hair hanging untidily at her shoulders, her features regular but coarse in a sun-scorched and wind-beaten oval face. Alexandra shook her head and tried to smile politely. ‘Thank you, not today.’
    The
gitana
grabbed her arm, clasping it tightly in long bony fingers. ‘Give me your palm. I can read the heavens and I will tell you the secrets the stars hold for you in the future.’
    But that was the last thing Alexandra needed or wanted, remembering the woman on the train and her warning. She knew there was only one way she would rid herself of the old witch. ‘Here …’ She took a few pesetas from her pocket, ‘I’ll buy one of your beautiful roses.’
    At this, the penetrating jet-black eyes lit up greedily. The gypsy took the money and handed Alexandra the crimson flower. ‘
Que Dios los bendiga
, God bless you, kind and generous lady.
Que los ángeles te miran
, may the angels look upon you,’ she squawked before turning to cast her designs on her next victim. ‘
Bella dama
…
Apuesto caballero
…’
    Somewhere a bell rang. Doors slammed. The train began to move, its ancient frame creaking. Motionless, Alexandra watched it pull out of the station. As it disappeared she could hear its piercing whistle in the distance, one moment raucous, the next strident, and then there was nothing: a kind of stillness she would have found oppressive had the sun not been shining.
    She glanced quickly around her in the hope of finding a porter. Most probably she would be met outside the station. Like actors after the curtain has fallen, travellers and tradespeople had vanished to leave a deserted stage. The platform was empty, the waiting room dark and damp-looking. Alexandra moved briskly towards the exit in search of help.
    ‘
Buenas tardes
,
señorita
,’ beamed the man behind the ticket office window. ‘What can I do for you today?’
    ‘
Buenas tardes
,’ she said, smiling back at him, continuing in impeccable Spanish, ‘can you tell me where I can find a porter. I’ve left quite a bit of luggage on the platform.’
    ‘I’ll come and help you. Manuel, our porter, is usually here but his mother-in-law died and he had to go to the funeral.’
    ‘Oh dear, poor man.’ She paused, not wishing to seem unsympathetic. ‘Can you please tell me where to go for the bus to Jerez? My guidebook says it leaves from this station.’
    ‘You’ve just missed it, I’m afraid. The two o’clock bus left ten minutes ago. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.’
    ‘But there’s supposed to be three a day, and I have to be in Jerez by this evening,’ Alexandra exclaimed. ‘Is there no other way to get there before dark?’
    The man eyed her quizzically. ‘You’re not from these parts, that’s for sure,’ he muttered, shaking his head. ‘You could always try this evening. There’s usually a bus that leaves after seven but there have been works on those roads. Access is sometimes difficult, especially after dark, as most of the main roads have no lights. It can