Spanish Escape: The Playboy of Puerto Banús / A Game of Vows / For the Sake of Their Son

‘Yes.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

It felt terribly close to love.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ue4fb7f4b-f225-5bd8-ad39-f5f44306e235)

THEY FLEW EARLY the next morning, over the lush hills of Spain to the north, and even as his jet made light work of the miles there was a mounting tension. Had they run out of time?

Far from anger from Raúl, there was relief when Angela came out of the door to greet them, a wary smile on her face.

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Welcome.’

She gave Estelle a kiss on the cheek, and gave one too to Raúl. ‘We can do this,’ she said to him, even as he pulled back. ‘For your father. For one day…’

Raúl nodded and they headed through to the lounge.

If Estelle was shocked at the change in his father, it must be hell for Raúl.

‘Hey,’ he greeted his son. ‘You took your time.’

‘I’m here now,’ Raúl said. ‘Congratulations on your wedding.’ He handed Antonio a bottle of champagne as he kissed him on the cheek. ‘I thought we could have a toast to you both later.’

‘I finally make an honest woman of her,’ Antonio said.

Estelle watched as Raúl bit back a smart response. There really was no time for barbs.

‘Your brother is flying in from Bilbao tonight. Will you stay for dinner?’ Antonio’s eyes held a challenge.

‘I’m not sure that we can stay…’

‘A meeting between the two of you is inevitable,’ Antonio said. ‘Unless you boycott my funeral. I am to be buried here,’ he added.

She watched Raúl’s jaw tighten as he told his son that this was the home he loved. Yet he had denied his first son the chance of having a real home.

‘I will make a drink,’ Angela said to Estelle. ‘Perhaps you could help me?’

Estelle went into the kitchen with her. It was large and homely, and even though she was hoping to keep things calm for Raúl, Estelle was angry on his behalf.

‘We will leave them to it,’ Angela said as Estelle sat at the table. ‘You look tired.’

‘Raúl doesn’t live a very quiet life.’

‘I know.’ Angela smiled and handed her a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of croissants.

Estelle took a sip of her chocolate, but it was far too sickly and she put the cup back down.

‘I can make you honey tea,’ Angela offered. ‘That is what I had when…’ Her voice trailed off as she saw the panic in Estelle’s eyes and realised she must not want anyone to know yet. To Angela it was obvious—she hadn’t seen Estelle since her wedding day, and despite the suntan her face was pale, and there were subtle changes that only a woman might notice. ‘Perhaps your stomach is upset from flying.’

‘I’m fine,’ Estelle said, deliberately taking another sip.

‘I am worried that when Antonio dies I will see no more of Raúl…’

Estelle bit her lip. Frankly she wouldn’t blame him. Because being here, seeing first-hand evidence of years of lies and deceit, she understood a little better the darkness of his pain.

‘He is like a son to me.’

Estelle simply couldn’t stay quiet. ‘From a distance?’ She repeated Angela’s own words from the wedding day and then looked around. There were pictures of Luka, who looked like a younger Raúl.

‘Raúl is here too.’ Angela pointed to a photo.

‘He wasn’t, though.’ Estelle could not stand the pretence. ‘You had a home here—whereas Raúl was being shuffled between his aunt and uncle, occasionally seeing his dad.’

‘It was more complicated than that.’

‘Not really.’ Estelle simply could not see it. ‘You say you think of him as a son, and yet…’

‘We did everything the doctor said,’ Angela wrung her hands. ‘I need to tell you this—because if Raúl refuses to speak with me ever again, then this much I would like you to know. The first two years of Luka’s life Antonio hardly saw him. He did everything to help Raúl get well, and that included keeping Luka a secret. The doctor said Raul needed his home, needed familiarity. How could we rip him away from his family and his house? How could we move him to a new town when the doctor insisted on keeping things as close to normal as possible?’

Estelle gave a small shrug. ‘It would have been hard on him, but surely no harder than losing his mother. He thought it was because of something he had said to her.’

‘How could we have known that?’

‘You could have spoken to him. You could have asked him about what happened. Instead you were up here, with his dad.’

There was a long stretch of silence, finally broken by Angela. ‘Raúl hasn’t told you, has he?’

‘He’s told me everything.’

‘Did Raúl tell you that he was silent for a year?’ She watched as Estelle’s already pale face drained of colour. ‘We did not know what happened that day, for Raúl could not tell us. The trauma of being trapped with his dead mother…’

‘How long were they trapped for?’

‘For the night,’ Angela said. ‘They went over a cliff. It would seem Gabriella died on impact. When the médicos got there he was still begging her to wake up. He kept telling her he was sorry. Once they released him he said nothing for more than a year. How could we take him from his home, from his bed? How could we tell him there was a brother?’

‘Excuse me—’

Estelle retched and cried into the toilet, and then tried to hold it together. Raúl did not need her drama today. So she rinsed her mouth and combed her hair, then headed back just as Raúl was coming out from the lounge.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Of course.’

‘My father is going to have a rest. As you heard, my brother is coming for dinner tonight. I have agreed that we will stay.’

Estelle nodded.