‘That’s a shame.’ So there would be no reports for Hillgarth after all. ‘I’m surprised, I thought it was Otero that was suspicious.’

Sandy toyed with his crystal wineglass. ‘He’s afraid this supervision committee won’t like the idea of an English investor. They’re putting us – ’ he paused – ‘under pressure.’

‘General Maestre’s committee?’

‘Yes. They’ve a closer eye on us than we thought. They know about you, we think.’

Harry wanted to ask about Gomez but he dared not. ‘You’ll still have problems with funding, then?’

Sandy nodded. ‘The committee are talking about more or less taking the project over. Then bang go our profits. The people on the committee will make a mint of course.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, we’ll make something out of it, I suppose. I’m sorry to let you down.’ He looked at Harry, his brown eyes sad and liquid like a dog’s. How quickly their expression could change.

‘It’s all right. Maybe I’m better off out of it. I’m not sure it was my type of thing.’

‘Good of you to take it like that. Pity, I wanted to do something for you, for – you know, old times’ sake.’

The telephone rang in the hall, making Harry jump. He heard footsteps and Barbara’s voice speaking English. A moment later she returned, her face anxious.

‘Harry, the embassy want to speak to you. They say it’s urgent.’ She looked at him with concern. ‘I hope it’s not bad news from home.’

‘You gave them our number?’ Sandy looked at him sharply.

‘I had to, I’m on call tonight. I have to go in if there’s something needs translating urgently. Excuse me.’

He stepped out into the hall. A little brasero set under the telephone table warmed his feet, casting a yellow glow over the floor. He picked up the phone.

‘Hello. Harry Brett.’

A cultured female voice answered. ‘Oh, Mr Brett, I’m so glad we were able to reach you. I’ve got a caller holding, a Miss Sofia Roque Casas.’ The woman hesitated. ‘She says it’s urgent.’

‘Sofia?’

‘She’s holding now. Do you want to take the call?’

‘Yes. Please, put her on.’

There was a click and for a moment Harry thought he had lost the connection, then Sofia came on. It seemed strange, hearing her voice there in Sandy’s hall.

‘Harry, Harry is that you?’ There was panic in her voice, normally so composed.

‘Yes. Sofia, what is it?’

‘It’s Mama. I think she has had another stroke. Enrique’s gone out, I’m alone. Paco is in a terrible state, he saw it. Harry, can you come?’ He heard tears in her voice.

‘A stroke?’

‘I think so. She is unconscious.’

‘I’ll come at once. Where are you?’

‘I walked two blocks to find a telephone. I’m sorry, I couldn’t think what else to do. Oh, Harry, she is bad.’

He thought a moment. ‘OK. Go back to the flat, I’ll get there as soon as I can. When’s Enrique back?’

‘Not till late. He has gone out with some friends.’

‘Listen, I’m in Vigo district. I’ll try and find a cab and get there as soon as I can. Get back to your mother and Paco.’

‘Please hurry, please hurry.’ It was frightening to hear the panic in her voice. ‘I knew you’d come,’ she added quickly, then there was a click as she replaced the receiver.

The salón door opened and Barbara put her head out. ‘What is it? Did you say someone’s had a stroke? Is it your uncle?’

He took a deep breath. ‘No, it’s Sofia’s mother, my – my girlfriend.’ He followed Barbara back into the dining room. ‘She rang the embassy and they put the call through here. She’s alone with her mother and a little boy they look after. I have to go there now.’

Sandy looked at him curiously. ‘Can’t they get a doctor?’

‘They can’t afford one.’ He must have sounded snappy because Sandy raised his hand.

‘All right, old boy, all right.’

‘Can I call a cab from here?’ Harry had taken a tram to the house.

‘It’ll take ages at this time of night. Where do they live?’

He hesitated. ‘Carabanchel.’

‘Carabanchel?’ Sandy raised his eyebrows.

‘Yes.’

Barbara’s voice was suddenly decisive. ‘I’ll drive you. If this poor woman’s had a stroke, I might be able to help.’

‘Sofia was a medical student once. But you could help. Do you mind?’

‘It’s not safe taking the car down there,’ Sandy said. ‘We can call a cab.’

‘I’ll be all right.’ Barbara stepped to the door. ‘Come on, I’ll get the keys.’

Harry followed her. In the doorway he turned back. Sandy was still sitting at the table. His expression was angry, petulant. He had always hated being ignored.

THE NIGHT WAS cold and clear. Barbara drove fast and well, through the city centre and into the dark narrow streets of the working-class districts. She seemed relieved to be out of the house. She looked at him curiously. ‘I didn’t realize Sofia was from Carabanchel.’

‘You were expecting someone middle class?’

‘I suppose I was, subconsciously.’ Barbara smiled sadly. ‘I should know it’s unpredictable who we fall in love with.’ She gave him another searching look. ‘Is she special?’

‘Yes.’ Harry hesitated. ‘I wondered for a while if it was – oh, I don’t know, guilt or something, wanting to experience how ordinary Spaniards live.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh.

‘Going native?’

‘Something like that. But it’s just – it’s just love. You know?’

‘I know.’ She hesitated. ‘What do the embassy think?’

‘I haven’t told them. I want some part of my life to myself. It’s here, the next street.’

They parked the Packard outside Sofia’s block and hurried inside, running up the dark staircase. Sofia had heard them coming and stood in her doorway, weak yellow light shining into the hall. The sound of a child’s hysterical crying came from inside. Sofia looked pale and her hair was lank and uncombed. She stared at Barbara. ‘Who is this?’

‘Barbara, she’s the wife of a friend of mine. We were all having dinner together. She’s a nurse, perhaps she can help.’

Sofia’s shoulders slumped. ‘It is too late. Mama has gone. She was dead when I got back from telephoning you.’

She led them in. The old woman lay on the bed. Her eyes had been closed and her white face looked still and peaceful. Paco lay on top of the body, clinging to it tightly, sobbing, a wild keening noise. He looked up as the three of them came into the room, eyeing Barbara with fear. Sofia went over and stroked his hair.

‘It’s all right, Paco, this lady is a friend of Harry’s. She’s come to help us. She is not from the Church. Please, come away now.’ She lifted him gently from the body and held him to her. They sat on the bed, both crying now. Harry sat beside them, putting his arm round Sofia.

Paco stood up. He looked at Barbara, still afraid. She went over and very gently took his small dirty hand in hers.

‘Hello, Paco,’ she said in Spanish. ‘May I call you Paco?’ He nodded dumbly. ‘Listen, Paco, Sofia is very upset. You must try to be a big boy if you can. I know it’s difficult. Here, come and sit by me.’ Paco let her lead him gently away from the bed. She sat him on one of the spindly chairs and pulled up another to sit next to him.

Sofia, still holding Harry tightly, looked at her mother’s body. ‘I thought this might happen and that it would be best for her but it is hard. I should call an ambulance, we cannot leave her here.’

‘Won’t Enrique want to see her?’ Harry asked.

‘I think maybe it is better he does not.’ She got up and went to get her coat from behind the door.

‘Let me go,’ Harry said.

Barbara stood up. ‘No, stay with Sofia. I saw a phone box nearby, on the way. I’ll go.’

‘You should not go alone,’ Sofia said.

‘I’ve been in tougher places than this. Please let me go.’ She sounded brisk, business-like, wanting to be of service. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ Before they could argue further she was gone, her footsteps clattering down the steps. Sofia took Paco’s hand and led him back to sit on the bed with them. She looked at Elena’s still face.