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

“Besides, she has hidden talents. She speaks languages. She plays the piano like an angel. She has a good head for numbers. And to cap it all she’s a wonderful cook. Look at me. I’ve put on a few kilos since she started working for me. Delicacies that even at La Tour d’Argent … Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“She didn’t mention that she can cook …”

“I’m talking about love at first sight.”

“Well, really …”

“Do you know what the matter is? Deep down, although she gives the impression she’s an untamed shrew, the girl is docile and shy to a pathological degree. I blame the nuns: they unhinge them with all those stories of hell and all those sewing lessons. Long live secular education.”

“Well, I would have sworn she took me for a little less than an idiot,” Sempere assured me.

“There you are. Irrefutable proof. Sempere, my friend, when a woman treats you like an idiot it means her hormones are racing!”

“Are you sure about that?”

“As sure as the Bank of Spain. Believe me, I know quite a lot about this subject.”

“That’s what my father says. And what am I to do?”

“Well, that depends. Do you like the girl?”

“Like her? I don’t know. How do you know if… ?”

“It’s very simple. Do you look at her furtively and feel like biting her?”

“Biting her?”

“On her backside, for example.”

“Señor Martín!”

“Don’t be bashful, we’re among gentlemen. It’s a known fact that we men are the missing link between the pirate and the pig. Do you like her or don’t you?”

“Well, Isabella is an attractive girl.”

“What else?”

“Intelligent. Pleasant. Hardworking.”

“Go on.”

“And a good Christian, I think. Not that I’m much of a practicing Catholic, but—”

“Don’t I know it. Isabella almost lives in the church. Those nuns, I tell you!”

“But quite frankly, it had never occurred to me to bite her.”

“It hadn’t occurred to you until I mentioned it.”

“I must say, I think talking about her like that—or about any other woman—shows a lack of respect. You should be ashamed,” protested Sempere’s son.

“Mea culpa,” I intoned, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender. “But never mind—we each show our devotion in our own way. I’m a frivolous, superficial creature, hence my canine focus, but you, with that au-rea gravitas of yours, are a man of mysterious and profound feelings. The important thing is that the girl adores you and that the feeling is mutual.”

“Well …”

“Don’t you ‘well’ me. Let’s face it, Sempere. You’re a respectable and responsible man. Had it been me, what can I say? But you’re not a fellow to play fast and loose with the noble, pure feelings of a ripe young girl. Am I mistaken?”

“I suppose not.”