around the fountain.
‘It means, I love you. It means, I love you, Ana Melodia, and want you to be my wife.’ They danced on in silence, listening to the sleepy music that carried them. Anna was unable to think clearly. Her mind was all in a muddle, like her Aunt Mary’s knitting wool, all tangled up. Had he really asked her to marry him? ‘I will take you to Santa Catalina,’ he said softly. ‘You will live in a beautiful white house with green shutters and pass the day in the sunshine, looking out over the pampas. Everyone will love you like I do.’
‘But Paco, I don’t know you. My parents will never allow it,’ she said, imagining Aunt Dorothy’s reaction with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
‘I will talk to them. I will tell them how I feel,’ he said, then he looked into
her fearful eyes and added, ‘Don’t you care for me, not even un poquito?
She hesitated, not because she didn’t love him, she adored him, he overwhelmed her with an excitement that jolted her every sense into life, but her mother had always told her that love is something that grows. The urgent ‘love’ of two people attracted to one another was something altogether different.
‘I do love you,’ she said and the tremor in her voice surprised her. She had never said those words to anyone, not even to Sean O’Mara. ‘I feel like I’ve known you for ever,’ she added, as if to justify to herself that the way she loved him wasn’t the urgent, irrational ‘love’ of two people attracted to one another, but something much more profound and real.
‘So what is the problem? You can stay in London and we can get to know each other better, if that is what you wish.’
‘It’s not that simple,’ she objected, wishing it were.
‘Things are only complicated if you let them be. I will write to my parents and tell them that I have met a beautiful, innocent girl with whom I want to spend the rest of my life.’
‘And they’ll understand?’ she asked apprehensively.
‘They will when they meet you,’ he replied confidently, kissing her again. ‘I
don’t think you understand, Ana Melodia. I love you. I love the way you smile, the nervous way you play with your hair, the frightened look in your eyes when I tell you how I feel. The confident, spirited way you met me in the hotel tonight. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I admit, I don’t know you. I don’t know your favourite food, your favourite books. I don’t know your favourite colour or what you were like as a child. I have no idea how many brothers and sisters you have. I don’t even care. All I know is that here,’ he said, placing her hand on his coat, ‘is where my heart beats, and with every beat it tells me how I feel about you. Can you feel it?’ She laughed and tried to feel his heart beneath his coat, but only felt the quickness of the pulse in her thumb. ‘I will marry you, Ana Melodia. I will marry you because if I let you go, I will regret it for the rest of my life.’
When Paco kissed her she wanted more than anything a happy ending like in the films she watched at the flicks. When he put his arms around her and hugged her against him she felt sure that he could protect her from all that was unpleasant in the world. If she married Paco she could leave Glengariff for ever. She’d be with the man she loved. She’d be Mrs Paco Solanas. They’d have children as beautiful as him and be happier than she ever dreamed possible.
When he kissed her she remembered Sean O’Mara’s limp kiss, the fear of her wedding night, the bleakness of the future that stretched out before her like a monotonous grey road leading to nothing but hardship and stagnation, but most importantly a future without true love. With Paco it was different. She desired nothing more than to belong to him, to give herself to him, to allow him to claim her body for himself so he could love her wholly.
‘Yes, Paco, I will marry you,’ she whispered, overcome with emotion.
‘It means, I love you. It means, I love you, Ana Melodia, and want you to be my wife.’ They danced on in silence, listening to the sleepy music that carried them. Anna was unable to think clearly. Her mind was all in a muddle, like her Aunt Mary’s knitting wool, all tangled up. Had he really asked her to marry him? ‘I will take you to Santa Catalina,’ he said softly. ‘You will live in a beautiful white house with green shutters and pass the day in the sunshine, looking out over the pampas. Everyone will love you like I do.’
‘But Paco, I don’t know you. My parents will never allow it,’ she said, imagining Aunt Dorothy’s reaction with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
‘I will talk to them. I will tell them how I feel,’ he said, then he looked into
her fearful eyes and added, ‘Don’t you care for me, not even un poquito?
She hesitated, not because she didn’t love him, she adored him, he overwhelmed her with an excitement that jolted her every sense into life, but her mother had always told her that love is something that grows. The urgent ‘love’ of two people attracted to one another was something altogether different.
‘I do love you,’ she said and the tremor in her voice surprised her. She had never said those words to anyone, not even to Sean O’Mara. ‘I feel like I’ve known you for ever,’ she added, as if to justify to herself that the way she loved him wasn’t the urgent, irrational ‘love’ of two people attracted to one another, but something much more profound and real.
‘So what is the problem? You can stay in London and we can get to know each other better, if that is what you wish.’
‘It’s not that simple,’ she objected, wishing it were.
‘Things are only complicated if you let them be. I will write to my parents and tell them that I have met a beautiful, innocent girl with whom I want to spend the rest of my life.’
‘And they’ll understand?’ she asked apprehensively.
‘They will when they meet you,’ he replied confidently, kissing her again. ‘I
don’t think you understand, Ana Melodia. I love you. I love the way you smile, the nervous way you play with your hair, the frightened look in your eyes when I tell you how I feel. The confident, spirited way you met me in the hotel tonight. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I admit, I don’t know you. I don’t know your favourite food, your favourite books. I don’t know your favourite colour or what you were like as a child. I have no idea how many brothers and sisters you have. I don’t even care. All I know is that here,’ he said, placing her hand on his coat, ‘is where my heart beats, and with every beat it tells me how I feel about you. Can you feel it?’ She laughed and tried to feel his heart beneath his coat, but only felt the quickness of the pulse in her thumb. ‘I will marry you, Ana Melodia. I will marry you because if I let you go, I will regret it for the rest of my life.’
When Paco kissed her she wanted more than anything a happy ending like in the films she watched at the flicks. When he put his arms around her and hugged her against him she felt sure that he could protect her from all that was unpleasant in the world. If she married Paco she could leave Glengariff for ever. She’d be with the man she loved. She’d be Mrs Paco Solanas. They’d have children as beautiful as him and be happier than she ever dreamed possible.
When he kissed her she remembered Sean O’Mara’s limp kiss, the fear of her wedding night, the bleakness of the future that stretched out before her like a monotonous grey road leading to nothing but hardship and stagnation, but most importantly a future without true love. With Paco it was different. She desired nothing more than to belong to him, to give herself to him, to allow him to claim her body for himself so he could love her wholly.
‘Yes, Paco, I will marry you,’ she whispered, overcome with emotion.
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