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

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, doctor,” I said.

“He’ll be there,” Isabella assured him.

“In the meantime I recommend that he begins by eating something warm, first broth and then solids. A lot of water but no coffee or other stimulants, and above all he must get lots of rest. Let him go out for a little fresh air and sunshine, but he mustn’t overexert himself. He is showing the classic symptoms of exhaustion and dehydration and the beginnings of anemia.”

Isabella sighed.

“It’s nothing,” I remarked.

The doctor looked at me, unconvinced, and stood up.

“Tomorrow afternoon in my office, at four o’clock. I don’t have the correct instruments or environment for a proper examination here.”

He closed his bag and politely said good-bye. Isabella accompanied him to the door and I heard them murmuring on the landing for a few minutes. I got dressed again and waited, like a good patient, sitting on the bed. I heard the front door close and the doctor’s steps as he descended the stairs. I knew that Isabella was in the entrance hall, pausing before she came into the bedroom. When at last she did, I greeted her with a smile.

“I’m going to prepare something for you to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I couldn’t care less. You’re going to eat and then we’re going to go out so that you get some fresh air.”

Isabella prepared some broth for me, to which I added morsels of bread. I then forced myself to swallow it with a cheerful face, although to me it tasted like grit. Eventually I cleaned my bowl and showed it to Isabella, who had been standing on guard duty while I ate. Next she took me to the

bedroom, searched for a coat in the wardrobe, equipped me with gloves and a scarf, and pushed me toward the front door. When we stepped outside a cold wind was blowing, but the sky shone with an evening sun that turned the streets the color of amber. She put her arm in mine and we set off.

“As if we were engaged,” I said.

“Very funny.”

We walked to Ciudadela Park and into the gardens surrounding the Shade House. When we reached the pond by the large fountain we sat down on a bench.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Isabella didn’t reply.

“I haven’t asked you how you are,” I volunteered.

“That’s nothing new.”

“So how are you?”

Isabella paused.

“My parents are delighted that I’ve returned. They say you’ve been a good influence. If only they knew … The truth is, we do get on better than before. Not that I see that much of them. I spend most of my time in the bookshop.”

“How’s Sempere? How is he taking his father’s death?”

“Not very well.”

“And how are you taking him?”

“He’s a good man,” she said.

Isabella fell silent and lowered her eyes.

“He proposed to me,” she said after a while. “A couple of days ago, in Els Quatre Gats.”

I contemplated her profile, serene and robbed of the youthful innocence that I had wanted to see in her and that had probably never been there.