The Angel's Game (The Cemetery of Forgotten 2)

“He’s seen better times, that’s for sure. The doctor says he has to be careful with his angina, but he insists on working more than ever. Sometimes I have to get angry with him, but he seems to think that if he leaves me to look after the shop the business will fail. This morning when I got up I asked him to stay in bed and not come down to work today. Well, would you believe it, three minutes later I found him in the dining room putting on his shoes.”

“He’s a man with fixed ideas,” I agreed.

“He’s as stubborn as a mule,” replied Sempere’s son. “Thank goodness we now have a bit of help, otherwise …”

I adopted my best expression of surprise and innocence, which always came in handy and needed little practice.

“The girl,” Sempere’s son explained. “Isabella, your apprentice. That’s why I was thinking about you. I hope you don’t mind if she spends a few hours here each day. The truth is, with the way things are I’m very grateful for the help, but if you have any objections …”

I suppressed a smile when I noticed how he savored Isabella’s double l.

“Well, as long as it’s only temporary. The truth is, Isabella is a good girl. Intelligent and hardworking,” I said. “And trustworthy. We get on very well.”

“She says you’re a tyrant.”

“Is that what she says?”

“In fact, she has a nickname for you. Mr. Hyde.”

“How charming. Pay no attention to her. You know what women are like.”

“Yes, I do,” said Sempere’s son in a tone that made it clear that he might know a lot of things but certainly hadn’t the faintest clue about women.

“Isabella might say that about me, but don’t think she doesn’t tell me things about you,” I countered.

I noticed a change in his expression and let my words sink through the laye

rs of his armor. He handed me a cup of coffee with an attentive smile and rescued the conversation with a trick unworthy even of a second-rate operetta.

“Goodness knows what she says about me.”

I left him to soak in uncertainty for a few moments.

“Would you like to know?” I asked casually, hiding a smile behind my cup.

Sempere’s son shrugged.

“She says you’re a good and generous man. She says that people don’t understand you because you’re shy and they can’t see beyond that, and, I quote, you have the presence of a film star and a fascinating personality.”

Sempere’s son looked at me in astonishment.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Sempere, my friend. The truth is I’m glad you’ve brought up the subject because I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it and didn’t know how.”

“Talk about what?”

I lowered my voice.

“Between you and me, Isabella wants to work here because she admires you and, I fear, is secretly in love with you.”

Sempere gulped.

“But pure love, eh? Spiritual. Like the love of a Dickens heroine, if you see what I mean. No frivolities or childish nonsense. Isabella might be young, but she’s a real woman. You must have noticed, I’m sure …”

“Now that you mention it …”

“And I’m referring not to her—if you’ll pardon me—exquisitely tender frame but to her kindness and the inner beauty that is just waiting for the right moment to emerge and make some fortunate man the happiest in the world.”

Sempere didn’t know where to look.