The Angel's Game (The Cemetery of Forgotten 2) - Page 160

“I hope so,” he replied.

“I want to take her away from here.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows.

“Take her away? Where to?”

“Home.”

“Señor Martín, let me be frank. Aside from the fact that you’re not a relative or, indeed, the patient’s husband—which is a legal requirement—Cristina is in no state to go anywhere.”

“She’s better off here with you, locked up in a rambling old house, tied to a chair and full of drugs? Don’t tell me you’ve proposed to her again.”

The doctor observed me carefully, ignoring the offense my words had clearly caused him.

“Señor Martín, I’m glad you’re here because I believe that together we can help Cristina. I think your presence will allow her to come out of the place into which she has retreated. I believe it, because the only word she has uttered in the last two weeks is your name. Whatever happened to her, I think it had something to do with you.”

The doctor was watching me as if he expected something from me, something that would answer all his questions.

“I thought she had abandoned me,” I began. “We were about to run away together, leaving everything behind. I had gone out for a moment to buy the train tickets and do an errand. I wasn’t away for more than ninety minutes but when I returned home, Cristina had left.”

“Did anything happen before she left? Did you have an argument?”

I bit my lip.

“I wouldn’t call it an argument.”

“What would you call it?”

“I caught her looking through some papers relating to my work and I think she was offended by what she must have taken as a lack of trust.”

“Was it something important?”

“No. Just a manuscript, a draft.”

“May

I ask what type of manuscript it was?”

I hesitated.

“A fable.”

“For children?”

“Let’s say for a family audience.”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do. There was no argument. Cristina was slightly annoyed because I wouldn’t let her have a look, but that was all. When I left, she was fine, packing a few things. That manuscript is not important.”

The doctor acquiesced, more out of courtesy than conviction.

“Could it be that while you were out someone else visited her?”

“I was the only one who knew she was there.”

“Can you think of any reason she would have decided to leave the house before you returned?”

Tags: Carlos Ruiz Zafón The Cemetery of Forgotten Mystery
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