Page 12 of Under a Spanish Sky

They were barely aware of crossing from France into Spain.

A dilapidated customs post was the only sign, but it clearly hadn’t been manned for many years now.

Snow had been banked up on both sides of the road by the regular passage of snowploughs, and the road surface itself was running with water, although it would probably be May before the thick covering of snow on the fields disappeared.

As they began their descent, the sun disappeared behind the clouds and the standing water started to freeze again.

‘So this is Spain now?’ Amy sounded her usual self again and Luke felt relieved that her mood of despair appeared to have left her.

He too was back to normal, apart from a certain residual stiffness in his shoulders, and a lingering concern that his feelings for her might be straying from the strictly professional.

Back in London just a few days before they had started out, Father Tim had raised that very point.

‘She’s an attractive woman, Luke. Do you think you can cope?’

In all honesty he had replied that he wasn’t worried.

And he hadn’t been, then. Keeping a tight rein on his emotions had become second nature after everything that had happened to him.

He’d felt sure he would have no problem.

Anyway, her prickly nature, although less and less in evidence as the days went by, had made its presence felt often enough initially for him to be very wary.

The practical concerns relating to the logistics of the journey, from buying the car, to booking ferry tickets and obtaining detailed maps, took up most of his waking moments.

He really hadn’t given any serious thought to the fact that she was a woman, and he a man.

And also, if he was totally honest to himself, her handicap instantly put her into a different category.

There was the matter of physical contact, for example.

It had quickly become second nature to him to give her his arm when leading her somewhere new.

There was no secret electricity in the touch, no unexpected charge of excitement.

It very soon became what it quite simply was: a means to an end.

Without his guiding hand she would be lost, and he would not be fulfilling his responsibilities.

Then the fact that he found himself describing things to her and doing all the preparatory paperwork further reinforced the guide/client relationship.

And finally, he had to admit there was the reluctance on his part to do more than flick his eyes across her face or body.

Somehow it felt improper for him to gaze on her, while she was unable to do the same in return.

‘I can cope, Tim. We’ll keep it professional. Don’t you worry.’

Now, after that simple peck on the cheek from her, he felt totally at sea emotionally.

He turned towards her and allowed himself to study her face properly for a few seconds.

She really looked amazing. The long golden hair was tied back in a businesslike ponytail but was still very feminine.

The fine lines around the aquamarine eyes added character to an otherwise perfect complexion.

There was no doubt about it, she would most certainly have been fighting the boys off in her earlier years.

Now, just thirty, without her handicap, she would doubtless still have had the pick of the eligible bachelors.

Just then she turned towards him and her voice interrupted his reflections.

‘I suppose there’s no chance of a cup of coffee around here, is there?’

The idea of a beer also had considerable appeal to him.

They were driving through a scruffy little village with no shops but, this being Spain, there was a bar.

‘As luck would have it, there’s a place right here.

’ He pulled up outside a sad-looking building.

‘Bar Somport. Not the most inspired of names, but welcome nonetheless.’ He switched off the engine and stepped out onto the slippery tarmac.

He went round the back and met her as she climbed down onto the slush at the side of the road.

She took his arm and they made their way inside.

They were probably no more than a couple of kilometres from the French border, and less than thirty or forty kilometres from the French café where they had had coffee earlier that day.

The scenery outside was the same, the snow and the cold were the same, but the atmosphere inside was totally different.

The television was tuned to a football match.

The volume was high enough to set the bottles behind the bar humming whenever the ball was anywhere near either net.

Somebody had clearly just done something significant because the commentator sounded as if he was in the throes of a hysterical fit that caused him to howl like a wolf. They were unmistakably in Spain.

In one corner of the bar there was a table of men, quite clearly just finishing their lunch.

Luke glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost five o’clock.

Yes, that would definitely make it lunch.

With a shudder he realised that here in Spain the earliest they would be able to expect dinner that evening would probably be gone nine o’clock.

He steered her to a table as far as possible away from the television, and started his description of the surroundings.

‘Welcome to Spain.’ She peeled off her thermal jacket and hung it over the back of her chair.

She was wearing a denim cowboy shirt underneath and the top three buttons were undone.

As much for his own peace of mind as for anybody else’s sake, he thought he should give her a warning.

‘You’d better do up a few buttons in here.

There’s not another woman to be seen in the place and you have, at least temporarily, replaced the Big Match as the main point of interest. Can you feel the eyes on you? ’

He still had not fully come to terms with the effect her appearance seemed to have on men of all ages. Today she was dressed very casually and she wore no jewellery, but still looked stunning.

She ran a hand casually up the front of her shirt, checking just how many buttons were undone. Reassured, she returned her hand to the tabletop.

‘Let me guess. One of them’s got a stomach that makes him look about eight months gone, and between them they have enough facial hair to house a family of squirrels.

’ She laughed happily. He realised that being the centre of male attraction for her was an experience that took her back to happier times.

As if aware of his embarrassment, she repeated her question, so as to give him something to talk about. ‘Well, was I right about these characters?’

‘Not bad at all. There are at least three fat stomachs and one of the moustaches looks the size and shape of a badger. In fact I’m sure I saw it move.

’ She giggled. ‘There are pennants belonging to just about every football club in Spain on the wall behind the bar and a whole shelf of bottles of Spanish brandy. There’s even a photo of a bullfighter.

Looks a bit old and yellow. Who knows? Maybe it’s El Cordobes.

No sign of anybody behind the bar. No, wait a minute.

Mine host is approaching now. He’s one of the stomachs from the corner table. What are we having?’

‘I’ll have an espresso, and I’m prepared to wager you could murder a beer.’

‘You know me so well, but I’ll make it a little one as I’m driving.’

As the landlord went off to fetch their drinks, Luke looked out of the window.

Heavier clouds had bubbled up and blanked out the sun.

It was already quite dark and very grey outside.

When the waiter returned, Luke picked up his glass and took a mouthful of cold beer gratefully.

He glanced across at her. She was looking quite happy now, sipping her coffee and leaning forward, elbows on the table.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she raised her head.

‘How’s your beer?’

‘Just what I needed after carrying somebody across a snowfield.’

Her hand felt across the tabletop until it touched his. ‘Thank you, Luke. I don’t think I said thank you. I wouldn’t want you to think I make a habit of fainting and needing to be carried.’

‘At your service.’ He let his eyes rest on her face, the pale blue eyes as mesmerising as ever. ‘Mind you, that was quite some reaction to a lump of rock. Has it ever happened to you before?’

She shook her head. ‘Never.’ She squeezed his hand and then released it. ‘You know what I was thinking? You know we were talking about my blindness enhancing my other senses? Well, maybe it’s enhanced the sixth sense as well.’

‘I’m not sure we have a sixth sense, are you?’

‘I don’t know. There’s so much that goes on inside our brains that the experts can’t explain. Maybe there really is a sixth sense; something that picks up on vibrations that the other senses miss.’

‘But the problem we’ve got with that big rock back there is to work out why it sparked a chord with you.

’ He let his mind roam. ‘This is going to sound pretty silly, but I’ve been wondering over the last few days whether this story we’ve invented isn’t maybe a bit too close for comfort.

Maybe we would have done better if the main character hadn’t been so much like me and not following this selfsame route. ’

A smile spread across her face. ‘So you’ve been feeling it too? I thought it was just me.’ She sat upright. ‘Who knows? Maybe it really happened.’

‘Maybe it did.’

‘There’s something else I’ve been thinking, Luke. You know earlier on when you asked me why I was grumpy the first time we met and I said it was fear?’ He grunted and she carried on. ‘There’s something else, to be totally honest. You see, it’s my immune system.’

‘Your what?’ He started, surprised at her words, but she carried on.