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you,’ he had replied. And she had touched her lips to his in a way that he’d never felt before. And he had repeated, ‘See how much I love you.’ But now this devil of a sergeant was shouting at them by the truck, flailing his arms like a crazy windmill, spitting insults at the new legionnaires to hurry them up. Santiago San Román’s pride was hurt. He climbed up the truck and jumped in, then grabbed his bag and went to sit at the back, on top of the spare wheel. He pushed Montse’s image out of his mind by taking a look around. The Saharawis’ faces were the colour of the earth they trod on. For a second he thought they were one and the same thing. It looked as though the older ones, idling away the hours in the shade outside the military building, had been there all their lives. They shaded their eyes with their hands and looked at the new soldiers with a mixture of compassion and indifference. The truck pulled out, and the music died away behind it. The passage of the vehicles whipped up a mountain of dust. At the side of the road, the few surviving bushes were completely white. It was a short journey: soon the first houses of El Aaiún came into view. Santiago San Román saw a woman wearing a brightly coloured melfa and caught his breath. She walked with her head held up, in a straight line, holding a cloak in her hand, as if she were on a catwalk in Paris. She didn’t even turn when the truck passed by. Her image receded into the distance as they pressed on along the city streets. Santiago San Román didn’t know where to look.
    Everything caught his attention. A little while before reaching the barracks, as they went by the market, Montse’s image had vanished from his mind. By the time they got off the truck, he was sure that this was where his wounds would heal.
    5 . Parador Nacional: A large state run hotel common in many Spanish towns and cities.
    6 . Djellaba : A long, loosely fitting hooded outer robe with full sleeves. Worn by both men and women.

Chapter Three
    W HEN D OCTOR C AMBRA STARTED HER TWENTY-FOUR -hour shift on the 31st of December, she couldn’t have guessed that the new century would usher in a radical change in her life. Nor did she suspect that the events of that night would help her make decisions she didn’t think she was ready for.
    She wasn’t actually supposed to be on duty that day, but she swapped her shift with a colleague because she would have found it very hard to spend New Year’s eve at home on her own for the first time in her life. In the last few months she’d taken extra shifts on numerous occasions. Still, this one was something special, given what the arrival of new century meant for so many people. The Casualty Ward of the Hospital de la Santa Creu i de Sant Pau was prepared for a very busy night. Few staff were hoping to get more than two or three hours’ sleep. But, in fact, before midnight they admitted fewer, less serious cases than on a regular day. Although she didn’t have much to do, Doctor Cambra walked up and down trying to keep herself busy. She would go to the pharmacy, restock the cupboard with gauze, and make sure they had received as many bottles of saline solution as had been ordered. Every time she walked into the staff room where the TV was on, she would hang her head and sing to herself in a mumble to stave off her despair. She was afraid she might break down in front of her colleagues at any moment, like that time she had burst into tears in the middle of an examination, while the nurse looked onin distress, not sure whether he should tend to the doctor or to the elderly woman who couldn’t breathe because a rib was pressing on her lungs. Now, every time Doctor Cambra heard her name through the loudspeakers of the casualty ward, she went wherever she was needed without thinking about anything except her work. At times an intern with a badly receding hairline and an aquiline nose would remind her of Alberto, who was still her husband. But,