Charlie was only thrilled and turned and staggered seaward toward the retreating water. Again and again, untiringly, like a dog after a bone.
Bianca was less enthralled. “Uh-oh,” said Penny, seeing what was going to happen a second before Bianca tripped in the surf and the water buried her. She jumped up and ran, reaching her daughter as she rose spluttering out of the subsiding froth. Bianca was trying to keep up with Charlie but she’d fallen too much and now she started crying. “Oh, sweetheart,” said Penny, scooping her up. She brought her back to their spot on the dry sand beneath the umbrella, wrapped Bianca in a towel, and hugged her. Then she said, “Is he really broke?”
“Practically. He used to have a very small income from an aunt—you know, like people in old novels: three hundred pounds a year, on which they’d live genteelly in Dorset or something. But he spent that capital once he bought C’an Cabrer, and since then he’s lived off what he’s been able to produce and sell. But you can’t make a living now from selling olives and lemons and almonds. Not the way he did. It’s all big supermarkets now, HiperSol and SuperSol, and they buy from large-scale suppliers. The little
comestibles
, like Calix, and restaurants, that wanted thirty liters of olive oil and a few tubs of lemons—well, you know, you’ve seen it—they’re all gone, or going, or buying from the same big suppliers. They’re paying a lot less per kilo, and they only want to buy by the ton. And now the town’s put the property taxes up.”
“It’s so sad,” said Penny. Bianca heard her and looked up at her mother and made a sad face. “It’s all changed now, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is sad,” said Aegina, her eyes following Charlie in the water. “It’s breaking his heart—it breaks mine too—but he’s got to sell something. He sold two parcels of land down at the bottom of the drive years ago, but they didn’t pay much, not what they’d fetch now. I’ve suggested he sell the whole place and move into a smaller house in town, but he says he’d hate that and I probably would too. He’s lucky he’s got François to do it with.”
“François thinks they’ll do very well. And it should be nice. I mean, they’re really nice houses, and not too many of them. François says you won’t see them from your house.”
“Well, it’s the trees, Penny, that he’s really upset about. He’s been looking after them ever since he’s lived here, they’re like his friends. But there’s nothing else for it. He can either do this, with François, and have some say in it, or sell the whole place to someone else and then it would be a lot worse. I mean, look what’s happened to Mallorca, just since you’ve been here.”
“I know. Though of course, it’s not been bad for François. He’s done awfully well with his developments. It’s great that he and Fergus can make this happen together, for Gerald.”
“Yes, it’s great,” said Aegina.
Charlie ran screaming with laughter up to them, dripping salt water, to get Bianca, but she was alarmed and burrowed into her mother. He ran off into the waves.
“Fergus goes to the Rocks quite a bit, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No, of course not,” said Aegina. “The guests are all English. He’s comfortable there. Really, I’m glad he’s found a place he likes here, somewhere to go and have a drink. I don’t have to go there, and he doesn’t mind that either. I think he enjoys getting away from us for a few hours. And now he’s got this project, it’ll keep him busy. It works out well.”
“Gerald never goes there?”
“No. He used to walk or drive by when he thought no one would notice. I remember driving past the Rocks in the car when I was a child—when it was the long way home—and he would slow down.”
“What do you think he feels about Lulu?”
Aegina shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure. He was obsessed at
Bianca was less enthralled. “Uh-oh,” said Penny, seeing what was going to happen a second before Bianca tripped in the surf and the water buried her. She jumped up and ran, reaching her daughter as she rose spluttering out of the subsiding froth. Bianca was trying to keep up with Charlie but she’d fallen too much and now she started crying. “Oh, sweetheart,” said Penny, scooping her up. She brought her back to their spot on the dry sand beneath the umbrella, wrapped Bianca in a towel, and hugged her. Then she said, “Is he really broke?”
“Practically. He used to have a very small income from an aunt—you know, like people in old novels: three hundred pounds a year, on which they’d live genteelly in Dorset or something. But he spent that capital once he bought C’an Cabrer, and since then he’s lived off what he’s been able to produce and sell. But you can’t make a living now from selling olives and lemons and almonds. Not the way he did. It’s all big supermarkets now, HiperSol and SuperSol, and they buy from large-scale suppliers. The little
comestibles
, like Calix, and restaurants, that wanted thirty liters of olive oil and a few tubs of lemons—well, you know, you’ve seen it—they’re all gone, or going, or buying from the same big suppliers. They’re paying a lot less per kilo, and they only want to buy by the ton. And now the town’s put the property taxes up.”
“It’s so sad,” said Penny. Bianca heard her and looked up at her mother and made a sad face. “It’s all changed now, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is sad,” said Aegina, her eyes following Charlie in the water. “It’s breaking his heart—it breaks mine too—but he’s got to sell something. He sold two parcels of land down at the bottom of the drive years ago, but they didn’t pay much, not what they’d fetch now. I’ve suggested he sell the whole place and move into a smaller house in town, but he says he’d hate that and I probably would too. He’s lucky he’s got François to do it with.”
“François thinks they’ll do very well. And it should be nice. I mean, they’re really nice houses, and not too many of them. François says you won’t see them from your house.”
“Well, it’s the trees, Penny, that he’s really upset about. He’s been looking after them ever since he’s lived here, they’re like his friends. But there’s nothing else for it. He can either do this, with François, and have some say in it, or sell the whole place to someone else and then it would be a lot worse. I mean, look what’s happened to Mallorca, just since you’ve been here.”
“I know. Though of course, it’s not been bad for François. He’s done awfully well with his developments. It’s great that he and Fergus can make this happen together, for Gerald.”
“Yes, it’s great,” said Aegina.
Charlie ran screaming with laughter up to them, dripping salt water, to get Bianca, but she was alarmed and burrowed into her mother. He ran off into the waves.
“Fergus goes to the Rocks quite a bit, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No, of course not,” said Aegina. “The guests are all English. He’s comfortable there. Really, I’m glad he’s found a place he likes here, somewhere to go and have a drink. I don’t have to go there, and he doesn’t mind that either. I think he enjoys getting away from us for a few hours. And now he’s got this project, it’ll keep him busy. It works out well.”
“Gerald never goes there?”
“No. He used to walk or drive by when he thought no one would notice. I remember driving past the Rocks in the car when I was a child—when it was the long way home—and he would slow down.”
“What do you think he feels about Lulu?”
Aegina shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure. He was obsessed at
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