Chapter 3 second quarter
For eight days, every night I went to sleep with the hope that everything would change at dawn, only to wake up each morning with the same obsession in despair: Ramiro Olibus.No matter what I do during the day, his shadow flashes before my eyes, and I can't get him out of my mind for a moment: when making the bed, blowing my nose, peeling oranges, or even walking down the stairs. Step by step, memories about him flashed before his eyes one after another.
All the while, Ignacio and my mother were still passionately planning the wedding, but I couldn't get their emotions across.Nothing can make me happy.I'm not interested in anything.They thought it might be due to pre-marital tension.And I, desperately trying to pull Ramiro out of my heart, trying not to think of his whispers in my ear, his fingers on my lips, his hands on my thighs, and when I thought When I could cut off all crazy thoughts and leave resolutely, his final farewell that made me unforgettable: Please come back to me!
I tried my best to resist this magic.I tried and failed.There was nothing I could do about myself, the attraction of this man was so overwhelming that my thoughts flooded and my mind was drained.I looked around desperately, but I couldn't find any straw to drag me out of the abyss.Whether it's my fiancé who is about to marry me within a month, or my mother who has worked hard all her life to raise me into a decent and well-behaved woman.And I don't know who he is, and I don't know what the result will be with him, but such a completely unknown future can't stop my crazy behavior.
Nine days after my first visit to Hollysys in Spain, I went again.As on previous occasions, I was greeted by the tinkling of a bell on the door.This time there were no fat employees, no warehouse guys, or any other clerks to greet me.Only Ramiro.
I approached slowly, forcing my steps not to look so light.Although I had prepared something to say, I didn't say anything because he didn't give me a chance.When I walked up to him, he suddenly put his arms around my neck and gave me a deep kiss.This kiss was so passionate and full of desire that my whole body shrank and melted, as if it was about to turn into a puddle of honey water.
Ramiro Olibus was thirty-four years old, with a lot of experience, and his ability to seduce and tease was so strong that even a concrete wall could not be unaffected.I was deeply attracted by him. At first, I still had hesitation and anxiety, and then I jumped off desperately, overwhelmed by the raging passion.I followed him closely, walking on the small gravel road, breathing the same air as him.As long as Ramiro is by my side, even if the river floods, the buildings collapse, and the streets we walk disappear from the map in an instant, even if the world falls under our feet, I am willing to bear it with him.
Ignacio and my mother began to suspect that I wasn't normal just because of the tension caused by the imminent wedding, but they couldn't figure out why I was emotional, and they couldn't find a reason why I was always mysterious. Mysterious and sneaky, they don't understand my frequent going out and my uncontrollable laughter from time to time.This kind of double life became difficult to maintain within a few days, and I clearly felt that the balance in my heart was a little bit out of balance. Ignacio's side was getting lighter and Ramiro's side was getting heavier.Within a week, I knew I had to give up everything and plunge into the unknown.It's time to make a clean break with the past and let it all go.
When Ignacio came home from get off work in the afternoon, I opened the door a little and whispered, "Meet me in the square!"
Mother had already learned the details during the meal, so it was impossible to hide it from him.Five minutes later I was downstairs, lipstick on, new bag in one hand, and my Retra 35 in the other.He was waiting for me at the old place where we were dating, on that cold stone bench, how much time we had spent together, thinking about the future we would never have.
"You're with someone else, aren't you?" he asked when I sat down next to him.He didn't raise his eyes to look at me, but just focused his eyes on the ground, and the toes of his shoes kept rubbing against the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
I didn't speak, just nodded affirmatively, silent but determined.He asked, who is it?I told him.The surroundings were as noisy as ever: children playing, dogs, bicycle bells, the bells of the chapel of St. Andrés calling the last mass, wheels turning on the cobbled road, weary mules walking slowly along the evening path.Ignacio was silent for a long time.Maybe he guessed my determination from my tone, so he didn't show any confusion.There was neither an exaggerated reaction nor a demand for an explanation.Neither scolded me nor asked me to reconsider his feelings.Just slowly, like a drop of water, it left me with the last sentence:
"He will never love you like I do."
Then he stood up, took the typewriter, and walked with it into the empty distance.His back was getting farther and farther away, and under the blurry light on the side of the road, he seemed to be trying not to slam the typewriter to the ground.
I stared blankly at him, watching him leave the square until his figure was swallowed up by the autumn dusk.I wish I could cry at his passing, grieve over such a hasty and sad farewell, and blame myself for ruining our beautiful future and life plans.but.I didn't shed a single tear, and I didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse.As soon as his figure disappeared, I stood up from the stone bench and walked away, abandoning my neighborhood, my old people and my little world forever.There is all my past, and I am about to start a new life, a life that I thought would be a bright road.For me at the time, there was nothing better than falling into Ramiro's arms.
With Ramiro, I was exposed to another way of life, I learned to live with a man without my mother, and I had a servant, and I learned to satisfy him at all times. The only purpose of my life is make him happy.At the same time, I also got to know another Madrid, those places full of petty bourgeoisie, fashion clubs, theaters, restaurants and nightlife places.We drank cocktails at bars such as Negresco, Horner and Bacanic, and watched movie premieres at the Royal Cinema, while listening to a live orchestra and watching Mary Picker on the big screen.Ramiro stuffed candy in my mouth and I kissed his fingertips with my lips, melting with love.We watched Carmen Amaya at the Von Darba Theater, watched Riquel Mayer at the Malawi Theater and enjoyed flamenco in the Rose Valley, and lingered in the Ice Palace nightclub.In short, it is a noisy and seething Madrid.In this world, Ramiro and I are dreaming and dreaming every day, and there seems to be no yesterday and no tomorrow in our lives.It's as if we have to enjoy the whole world every moment, or the next second won't come.
What is the charm of Ramiro?Why did he completely change my life in less than two weeks after we met?To this day, after so many years, I can still replay every scene of him seducing me with my eyes closed. I also believe that even if I do it a hundred times, I will still fall in love as I did a hundred times.Ramiro's handsome appearance and cynical attitude make him irresistible: the short chestnut hair combed back neatly, the tall and straight body that exudes masculinity and fascination, and the ever-present optimism and confidence.
He is witty and sensual, completely unaffected by the harsh political environment at that time, as if he was born out of the world without eating fireworks.He has a lot of friends but doesn't really care about anyone. He always has big plans and can say the most appropriate words and make the most appropriate expressions at any time.Energetic, energetic, determined and decisive.Today a manager of an Italian typewriter company, formerly a representative of a German automobile company, before and after who knows what.
And what did Ramiro see in me?Why on a whim did he want to snatch his soon-to-be bride, a lowly tailor, from a law-abiding civil servant?He once swore to me that I was the first true love of his life.Of course he had had other women before.How many have you had?I asked.Not many, but no one can compare with you.Then he'd kiss me until I passed out with bliss.Looking back today, it is not difficult for me to list the ways he doted on me at that time, and I remember all of them.He said, I am an explosive treasure, with a goddess-like body and a baby-like pure and innocent heart, a rough diamond.There were times when he treated me like a little girl, and the ten years between us felt like centuries.He can predict my whims and always surprise me with the most unexpected ideas.He bought me stockings at Leon Silks and sent me lotions and perfumes and Cuban ice cream in lychee and mango and chocolate.He taught me many things: how to use the cutlery, how to drive his Morris car, how to order food in restaurants, how to swallow the smoke when smoking.He told me about some of the people he met in the past, some of the artists he met.He always recalls some old friends, and imagines that maybe at some point in the future, there will be glorious years waiting for us in a certain corner of the earth.He would draw a map of the world and teach me to grow.But sometimes that little girl just disappears and I'm a total woman to him.He doesn't care about my lack of knowledge and life experience, he needs me, worships my body, and always hugs me tightly, as if my body is the only reason for his existence during strenuous exercise.
From the beginning, I lived with him in his bachelor apartment on the Plaza de la Sarreza.I took almost nothing with me, as if my life had started anew, and it seemed that I had been completely reborn and reborn.The only thing he brought to his house was the captured heart and the set of clothes he was wearing.Sometimes I would go back to see my mother. At that time, she was doing some odd jobs at home, very little, and the money she earned was not enough to make ends meet.She refused to accept Ramiro, and hated the way he treated me. She hated him for using age and money to deceive me, pushing me to the edge of life, and forcing me to give up my bright future.She didn't like us living together as singles, hated me for abandoning Ignacio, and that I wasn't the same person anymore.I tried many times, but I could never convince her that Ramiro hadn't forced me to make a choice, nor could I convince her that it was pure, irrepressible love that had brought me to this point.We argued more and more, and time and time again we used the meanest and most vicious words to hurt each other.Every reproach she made made me respond more and more violently, and every curse she uttered deepened my contempt and disdain.There is hardly a meeting that does not end in tears, yelling and doors slamming.The time between each meeting is getting shorter and shorter, and the interval between visits is getting longer and longer. My mother and I are getting more and more estranged day by day.
Until one day she took the initiative to come to me, in order to bring my father's message.This simple event changed the course of our destiny again.
She came to Ramiro's house that day, it was about eleven o'clock in the morning, Ramiro had gone, and I was still sleeping.The night before we had gone to see Margaret Silgu at the Kemedia Theatre, then the Cook's, and didn't get home until about four o'clock in the morning.I'm so exhausted that I don't even have the energy to remove my makeup, which of course I've only recently started learning.Around ten o'clock, half asleep, I heard Ramiro go out, and then I heard Prudencia coming.She is responsible for cleaning up our messy house every day.I vaguely heard her go out to buy bread and milk, and then vaguely heard a knock at the door.Gently at first, then firmly.I thought it was Prudencia who forgot the key again, not the first time this happened.I got up in a panic and panic, and shouted to the persistent knock on the door: Come on, come on!Didn't even think about getting dressed, the idiot wasn't worth the trouble.Sleepily I opened the door, but it was not Prudencia standing at the door, but my mother.I didn't know what to say, and neither did she.We faced each other in silence for a while.She just looked me up and down, staring at my loose hair, heavy mascara, eyeliner, eye bags and lipstick left on my lips, and the extremely revealing pajamas on my body, which was absolutely outrageous by her moral standards of.I can't stand her gaze, I dare not look her in the face.Maybe it's because I haven't recovered from the hangover, maybe it's because her serious and serious attitude makes me defenseless.
"Come in, don't stand at the door," I said, trying to hide my uneasiness at her unexpected arrival.
"No, I don't want to go in, I'm in a hurry. I just came to bring you a message."
The situation was tense and absurd, and I never dreamed that such a thing would happen to me.My mother and I, who have experienced so much together and used to be so similar in many things, have now become two strangers who are suspicious of each other, calculating the distance between each other like stray dogs on the street.
She has been standing at the door, serious, upright, with a high bun, and her temples are already graying.Under her frowning eyebrows, her eyes were upright and proud, and her eyes were full of condemnation.After she stopped her cold inspection, she finally spoke.Yet, though I was terribly frightened, there was nothing condemning in what she was going to say.
"I'm just here to send you a message, not that I'm looking for you. As for whether you accept it or not, it's up to you to decide. But I think you should accept it. You should think about it. It's better late than never."
She didn't even step on the threshold. Except for giving me an address and an appointment time to meet that afternoon, she didn't stop for a minute, turned around and left without saying goodbye.I was amazed that she hadn't made any accusations or comments about me, her cold words had been thrown at me just as she was about to go down the stairs.
"Wash your face well, comb your hair, put on some clothes, and don't look like a whore."
I broke the unexpected news to Ramiro over lunch.I didn't understand what my father meant, what was hidden behind this sudden request, and I didn't trust him.I begged Ramiro to go with me.where to?To meet my father.Why?Because he wants me to.What do you want?I don't know, and I can't think of any reason why he wanted to see me.
I made an appointment with my mother to meet at that address in the afternoon: 19 Elmercia Street.
Beautiful streets, luxurious manors, just like those mansions I visited when I was in charge of delivery.I dressed up for this meeting, choosing a blue woolen sweater, a casual overcoat and a dainty little hat with three feathers slanted elegantly above the left ear.Of course, Ramiro bought these for me, and it was the first time I wore something that wasn't made by my mother or myself.I was wearing high heels, with my hair down my back and very little make-up because I didn't want another afternoon of criticism.Before going out, I looked at myself from top to bottom in the mirror.The mirror reflected Ramiro behind me, smiling, admiring my figure with his hands in his pockets.
"You are simply beautiful, you will shock him."
I wanted to thank him for his compliment with a smile, but I couldn't.Yes, the person in the mirror is beautiful, but very strange, completely different from me a few months ago, terrified like a mouse, regretting how I accepted this extraordinary request.When I got there, I could tell from the look in my mother's eyes that she was disgusted by Ramiro's presence with me.When she saw that we were going in together, she stopped me without even looking.
"This is a family matter, if you don't mind, please stay."
She didn't pause to wait for Ramiro's answer, but turned directly through the imposing foyer of cast iron and glass.I really hoped that Ramiro would be by my side, because I needed his support and company, but I didn't dare to face my mother, so I had no choice but to whisper to him that he would go first, and then quickly followed my mother.
"We're coming to Mr. Alvarado, he's waiting for us," she said to the porter.The doorman nodded and said nothing, ready to send us to the stairs.
"No thanks."
We walked through the spacious hall and began to climb the stairs.Mother walked in front with firm steps, hardly needing to hold on to the shiny wooden handrails.She was wearing a coat I hadn't seen before.Trembling behind, I clung to the railing like a life buoy on a stormy night.No one spoke, and my thoughts spread upward like steps, becoming more and more turbulent like a tide.first platform.Why is my mother so familiar with this strange place?second platform.The person I'm going to meet, what does he look like?Why did you want to see me on a whim after so many years?main floor.I pushed aside my chaotic thoughts vigorously, there was no time to think about it, it was already here.The door on the right.Mother pressed the doorbell calmly, without any sign of timidity.The door opened quickly, and an elderly maid appeared at the door. She was wearing a black uniform and a pure white cap with pressed hair.
"Good afternoon, Serwanda. We're here to see the master. I think he's in the study."
Serwanda opened her mouth halfway, unable to utter a word, as if there was a pair of ghosts standing in front of her.When she finally reacted and was about to say something, a man's voice, hoarse and powerful, came from the deepest part of the room.It must be his voice.
"Please come in!"
The maid stepped aside, still bewildered.We didn't need guidance at all, Mother seemed to know it all.Through a wide corridor, past several large rooms with wallpaper, carpet and family portraits, we came to a double door.The door on the left was open, and my mother and I went in.As soon as we entered, we saw a burly man waiting for us in the middle of the room.The majestic voice sounded again:
"Come in!"
Huge size, huge office.The wide desk is full of papers.The tall bookshelves are filled with books.This burly man looked at me, first in my eyes, then down, then up, looking me over and over again, probing me.He swallowed, and I swallowed too.He took a few steps towards us, put his hand on my arm, and patted it lightly, as if to confirm that I was real.Then he raised one corner of his mouth, and his smile was full of sadness accumulated over the years.
"You are exactly the same as your mother was twenty-five years ago."
He held my arm tightly and looked at me for a second, two seconds, ten seconds.Then, though.Although he didn't let go of me, he turned his eyes to his mother, and that bitter smile appeared on his face again.
"How many years have passed, Dolores."
She didn't answer, but she didn't avoid his gaze either.So he let go of my arm and reached out to her.Not wanting to shake hands and greet, just looking for a little touch, a light touch, as if hoping she would reach out to respond.But she just stood still, ignoring his pleas, until he cleared his throat as if suddenly awakened from a nightmare, and then tried to politely ask us to sit down in a calm tone.
Instead of sitting at a large desk piled with papers, we went to another corner of the study.My mother sat in an ottoman, my father sat across from her, and I sat alone on a sofa between them.All three were tense and uncomfortable.He lit a Havana, and she sat upright, knees together, back straight.And I, concentrating on scratching the wine-red cloth cover of the sofa with my ring finger, seemed to dig a hole so that I could crawl in and disappear like a gecko.The surrounding area is full of smoke.He cleared his throat again, as if about to say something, but before he could say it, my mother spoke.Although the words were addressed to me, her eyes were fixed on him.Her words made me have to raise my eyes to face them.
"Well, Sheila. This is your father, and today you finally get to know him. His name is Gonzalo Alvarado, an engineer and owner of a steel mill who has lived in this house all his life Here, I used to be the young master, now I am the master. How time flies. A long time ago, I came here to make clothes for his mother, and then I met him, and then... three years later, I have you. Don’t think that we are here It's a thrilling love story of a shameless young master cheating a poor little tailor. It's not like that at all. When we were together, I was twenty-two and he was twenty-four, and we both knew who we were , who he was, where we were, and what we were going to face. He didn't lie to me, and I didn't think anything wrong. This relationship ended because it shouldn't have started. The one who decided to end it all It was me, not him who abandoned you and me. It was me who insisted on not contacting him for so many years. Your father tried not to abandon us. He was very firm at first, but as time passed, he had to face reality ...then he got married and had two kids, two boys. I hadn't heard from him for a long time until I got a message from him yesterday. He didn't tell me why he wanted to meet you today, but now We're about to find out."
As she spoke, he kept looking at her with love in his eyes.After she stopped, he waited a few more seconds before picking up, as if thinking, trying to figure out how to express exactly what he really meant.I took this opportunity to observe him carefully.The first thought that popped into my mind at that time was: It is impossible that such a father gave me life.I am dark, as is my mother, and in the limited number of times I can recall imagining my father, he has always been pictured as being like us.Dark skin, dark hair, light build.And I've always associated his image with the features of the men around him: the neighbor Knoll Porter, the fathers of good friends, the men who filled the neighborhood pubs and streets, the ordinary fathers of ordinary people, maybe the post office clerk, A salesperson, a clerk, a waiter in a cafe, at most the owner of a tobacco shop or a haberdashery, or the owner of a vegetable stand in the Sabala market.The gentlemen I saw coming and going on the busiest street in Madrid when I delivered goods for Ms. The image of "father" is out of place.Yet it is one of them who is sitting in front of me right now.Although he is fat, he still dresses stylishly, his light-colored hair has turned grey, his honey-colored eyes are reddened, and he wears dark gray clothes. He is both the head of a large family and the father of a disabled family, a man who is different from others Father.He finally spoke, looking at my mother for a while, me for a while, sometimes both at the same time, sometimes neither.
"Well, it's a long story," he said at last.
He took a deep breath of the cigarette, exhaled a big puff of smoke, raised his head and stared into my eyes, then looked at my mother again, then turned to me, and then began to talk incessantly.The story was very long, but he told it in one breath, basically without stopping.When he finished speaking, I found that it was already dark, and the outlines of the few people in the room could only be seen clearly.A lamp with a green tulip shade on the desk accompanies us with distant and faint light.
"I'm looking for you because I'm worried that someday someone will assassinate me, or that I'll kill someone and be imprisoned, which is no different from death. The political environment is very tense right now, and if war breaks out, only God knows what will happen to us Sample."
I sneaked a glance at my mother to see her reaction.But there was no uneasiness on her face, as if what her father was talking about was not an imminent danger to his life, but just a cloudy weather forecast.He went on pouring out premonitions and unease.
"I know that my days are numbered, so I am ready to liquidate my life. What do I have in my life? Money, I have it; property, I have it; and a company with more than two hundred workers, in I struggled there for thirty years and in the end all they gave me was strikes, humiliation, spitting in my face, a wife who ran away with her mother and sisters as soon as she saw the Falangists burn down several churches Went to San Juan de Luz for prayers; had two sons I couldn't understand, I sent them both to the steel mills, made them work twelve hours a day, and see if their so-called patriotism could stand Stand the test of iron and hammer."
"The world is changing so fast, don't you think, Dolores? Workers are no longer content to go to the open-air dances in Cayetano and the bullrings in Cavabanche, as the song says. Bikes Instead of mules and horses, the union has become powerful, and whenever there is dissatisfaction, they threaten the boss with a bullet to kill him. Maybe their anger is not unreasonable, living a life of poverty, and working from dawn to dusk from birth No one would want to live like that. But it will take a lot of other things to change that. Raising a fist, lighting up a hatred, singing the Internationale won't change anything. An anthem can't save a country. Of course, They have enough reasons to rebel, they have been starving for centuries, there is a lot of injustice in our country, but the way to change all this should not be to bite the people who give you a job. In order to achieve To modernize the country, we need enterprising, courageous and qualified workers, a good education system, and a stable and no-nonsense government that lasts long enough. And now? It's all a mess. Everyone is busy Going about their own business, no one is working seriously to end these injustices as soon as possible. Politicians, regardless of faction, waste their time every day fighting each other and parliament. The king is still the king, he should have stepped down long ago Yes. Socialists, anarchists, and communists are fighting each other for their own interests. But if the country is to progress, everything should be done in a rational and orderly manner, without resentment, and without The emotions are out of control. The rich and powerful people and the royalists are terrified and have fled abroad. The only ending is a military rebellion. No one knows which army it will be, because any one is possible, And then there's military rule. Then we'll really be crying. Or we'll be drawn into a civil war where the two factions kill each other, and we'll end up with brother-in-law."
He talked on and on, without pausing at all, until he seemed to suddenly return to reality, and found that although my mother and I had no reaction on the surface, we were completely confused by what he said, and he didn't know the end of his grand speech. What do you want to say, what do these things have to do with us?
"I'm sorry to make you listen to all this crap because I've been thinking about it for a long time and thought it was time to do something. The country is falling and everything is going crazy and pointless. And me, as I said, who knows what day I will die. Feng Shui turns and we have to adapt. I have worked like an animal for more than 30 years, working hard for the business and trying to fulfill my responsibilities. But maybe it was the wrong time, maybe I made a serious mistake about something, and in the end it all turned its back on me, and life turned on me and took revenge on me. My sons were out of my control, my wife abandoned me. I'm gone, the company is turning into hell day by day. I'm alone and alone and I believe it will only get worse. So I'm getting ready, sorting out personal affairs, files, accounts. I'm Trying to fulfill my last wish, hoping that if one day I do die, everything will be in order. While I am dealing with business, I am also sorting out my memories and emotions, which is the only thing I have left .The darker the surrounding environment, the more I miss the people and things I once loved, and retrieve from my memory the happy years that life once gave me. Now that I have few days to come, I finally understand what is the most precious thing in life .Do you know what it is, Dolores? It's you! And our daughter, she's a perfect duplicate of you, so I want to see you."
Gonzalo Alvarado, my father, finally has a name and a face.He speaks much calmer now.It can be vaguely seen from the expression of his speech that he is not usually like this, but full of confidence, always with an unquestionable expression, speaking irrefutable words, accustomed to bossing around, and always plausible.It must have been difficult for him to make up his mind to arrange this meeting, dealing with a lost love and a strange daughter whom he had not seen for twenty-five years.But by now he has fully recovered his poise and self-confidence, and is in control of the situation.He spoke firmly, sincerely, and frankly, like a man who has lost everything and is fearless.
"You know what? Sheila, I really do love your mother, very much, very much. I wish I could do it all over again and have her by my side. Unfortunately, that's not the case."
He looked away from me to look for her eyes, to look for her big maroon eyes that have been sewing all her life, to look for her natural and mature beauty without makeup and plain face.
"I paid too little for you, didn't I, Dolores? I couldn't face the pressure at that time. I was not as brave and strong as you. After that, you already know that I obeyed what my family had prepared for me. Fate, adapted to another woman, another family."
Mother listened quietly, looking indifferent, not knowing whether she was deliberately hiding her feelings, or because her father's words didn't matter to her.She has maintained a deadpan posture, making it impossible to read her thoughts.Her back was straight and she was wearing the most well-crafted dress I had ever seen.It must have been made from scraps of clothes made by other women who not only had more and better clothes than her, but also had better luck.And he, not at all discouraged by her indifference, continued:
"I don't know if you guys will believe me, but I really... Now that I feel like my days are numbered, I start to regret from the bottom of my heart that I haven't done my duty to you all these years, and didn't even know you, Sheila. I At that time, I should have been more persistent, and I should not have given up easily, I was so eager to be with you! But it was too late, Dolores, you were too strong, you would not agree to be the shadow of my life, let me be in normal life Take care of you outside of family life. If you can’t have everything, then give up everything. Son, your mother is very stubborn, both stubborn and firm. And I, maybe too cowardly and stupid, but, no matter what, no matter how much I sigh and regret now It's useless." He was silent for a few seconds, without looking at us, as if thinking.Then he took a deep breath, exhaled forcefully, and changed his sitting posture.He lifted his back from the back of the chair and leaned forward, as if he wanted to get closer to us, and spoke more directly, as if he was making up his mind to say what he wanted to tell us.It looks like he's finally ready to end these bitter memories, break free from nostalgia, and return to the real world.
"Forgive me, I don't want to talk about my sorrows to you anymore and delay more time. Let's get to the point. I call you here to convey my last wish to you. Please understand my kindness and don't misunderstand My behavior. I am not trying to make up for everything I owe you all these years, nor to show you my remorse, nor to buy your sympathy with money. My only wish is that when I die, you You can get what you deserve in terms of emotion, reason, and law.”
For the first time since we sat down, he got up from his chair and walked to his desk.My eyes followed him, the broad back, the well-tailored coat, and the unusually quick steps against his enormous size.Then my eyes focused on the portrait hanging on the innermost wall, which was so large that it was difficult not to notice it.It was an oil painting, in a gold frame, of an elegant lady, neither pretty nor ugly, in the fashion of the early twentieth century, with short curly hair and a crown , with a stern expression.He turned, raised his chin, and pointed to the portrait.
“这是我母亲，伟大的卡尔洛塔夫人，你的祖母。还记得吗，多洛雷斯？她是七年前去世的，如果她死于二十五年前，希拉，很可能你会在这栋房子里出生。不管怎么样，让死者安息吧。”
他说话时已经不再看我们了，而是在书桌后面忙着什么。打开抽屉，拿出东西，翻动纸张，然后双手捧着朝我们走来。他一边走，一边盯着母亲。
“你还是那么美，多洛雷斯。”他坐下的时候说。这时候他已经不那么紧张了，开始的不自在荡然无存。“对不起，没给你们倒点喝的，你们想喝点什么？我叫赛尔万达来……”他正要再次站起来，母亲把他拦住了。
“我们什么也不喝，冈萨罗，谢谢。还是尽快说完吧。”
“你还记得赛尔万达吗，多洛雷斯？记得当年她是怎么监视我们、跟踪我们，然后去向我母亲告密的吗？”他突然爆发出一阵大笑，沙哑、短暂、苦涩，“你还记得她把我们堵在熨衣室吗？而现在，过了这么多年，现实是多么讽刺。母亲正在坟墓里腐烂，我和赛尔万达在这里，现在她是唯一照顾我的人，这是多么悲伤的结局。母亲死的时候我就该把她辞退，但是这个可怜的女人能去哪里呢？又老，又聋，无家可归。再说，也许她那时候也是没办法，不得不遵从我母亲的命令，虽然卡尔洛塔夫人的脾气令人无法忍受，但她不能因为这个失去工作，她的日子也不好过。不说这个了，如果你们都不喝，我也不用喝了，继续说正事吧。”他坐在椅子边缘，没有靠在靠背上，两只大手放在他从书桌那儿带过来的一堆东西上。纸张、包裹、盒子。他从外套的内兜里掏出一副金属框眼镜带上。“好了，现在我们来谈些实际问题。一桩一桩来。”
首先他拿出一个包裹，实际上是两个大信封，非常厚，用一根橡皮筋綁在一起。
“这是给你的，希拉。你可以用它为将来的生活开路。虽然作为我的三个子女之一，你应该合法享有我财产的三分之一，远远不止我手里的这些。但这已经是目前我能拿出来的全部现金了。现在几乎什么都卖不出去，时局不好，做任何交易都很困难。我没有办法给你留下任何其他财产，因为你还没有成为我合法的女儿。要是我这样做的话，世俗偏见就能要你的命，我那两个儿子还会把你卷人无休止的遗产官司中去。但是不管怎么说，这里也有差不多十五万比塞塔。你看起来和你的母亲一样聪明，所以我相信你会用这些钱做出明智的投资。我也希望你能用这些钱照顾你母亲，保证她衣食无忧，并且有一天在她需要时尽心尽力奉养她。事实上，我曾想过把这些钱分成两份，你们俩一人一份，但是我知道多洛雷斯一定不会接受的，所以我把它们全部交给你。”
他把那个包裹递过来。我没有立刻反应过来，不知所措地看看母亲，不知道怎么办才好。她做了一个肯定的表情，很短，很简洁，但表示她同意了。这时候我才伸手接了过来。
“谢谢！”我低声对父亲说。
他在回答之前露出了一个热情的微笑。
“别客气，女儿，这没什么。好吧，我们继续。”
然后他拿出一个蓝色丝绒匣子，打开以后又从里面拿出一个暗红色的小盒子，里面还有更小的盒子，他挨个儿打开，一共五个。他把这些盒子都放在桌上。里面的珠宝并不耀眼夺目，几乎没有什么光芒，但是并不能因为这个就低估它的价值。
“这是我母亲留下的。本来还有其他的，但是玛利亚·路易莎，我的妻子，在逃走的时候都带走了。可能是一时疏忽，她不小心留下了最珍贵的一件。这是给你的，希拉。为了保险起见，你最好永远不要将它示人，你也看到了，这件珠宝十分奢华。如果有一天你走投无路，可以卖掉或者典当掉它，你可以得到一大笔钱。”
我不知道该怎么回答，母亲说：
“不可以，冈萨罗。这属于你的妻子。”
“当然不是，”他坚持说，“所有的这些，多洛雷斯，都不是我妻子的财产，这一切都是我的，而我的愿望就是将它传给我的女儿。”
“不可以，冈萨罗，不可以。”
“没什么不可以。”
"No!"
"of course can!"
Notes:
Notes: