A Spanish Inheritance

The faithful old dog scampered after her as far as the shallows, but the breaking waves soon provided him with an alternative playmate and he made no attempt to follow her when she continued out to sea.

Swimming warily, she trod water occasionally to test the current. If she stayed well away from the rocks it was quite possible to swim over to Ramon’s beach in complete safety. There was no logic in doing so, but some inner demon drove her on. She had no idea what she meant to do when she got there… Sneak up to the house? Spy on him?

She had barely rounded the point when her feet hit the bottom. Standing up, she waded the last few yards to the shore. She was just smoothing her hair back from her face when she heard voices. They seemed to be coming closer. A kind of fearful excitement gripped her as she looked around for somewhere to hide. A little way up the cliff and away from the path that led from Ramon’s house there was a jumble of huge boulders. They offered the perfect cover.

Taking care to swish sand over her footprints, she turned and ran quickly through the shallows. Scrambling up the rocks as fast as she could, she slid into a deep crevasse from where she had a perfect view of the beach.

At first she saw only the child. A chubby toddler tanned the colour of nutmeg, wearing a vivid green bandanna on her halo of black curls. She couldn’t have been more than three years old. A smile softened Annalisa’s face as she watched the little girl skip along the beach. But a couple followed close on her heels.

They walked along arm in arm, moulded into each other and chatting with the easy familiarity of long acquaintance. She felt sure her heart would stop. The woman was almost as tall as Ramon, slender and with masses of wavy black hair caught up in a style that managed to be both casual and chic. She wore a sleeveless calf-length dress in cream-coloured linen and trailed a large-brimmed straw hat in her free hand. Her feet were bare and—

Annalisa turned away, unable to watch any longer. Margarita, she thought. Shame lodged in her throat like a fist. And Ramon had a daughter too… The pain was unendurable. For a moment she just shut her eyes, hoping it was all a bad dream. But then she heard the child call out and instinctively looked up again. Ramon had the little girl’s arms locked in his hands and was swinging her off the ground… Round and round she went, her shrill laughter bouncing off the rocks, while Margarita stood by watching her with her hands clasped together in pleasure.

The happy tableau was like a dagger in Annalisa’s heart. She would never consign Ramon’s child to the same fate she had endured—a mother grown bitter from neglect and a father she hardly knew… And if Ramon chose to stay with Margarita…? If? He would. She only had to look at the two of them together to know that.

She sucked in a deep breath, as if she was trying to store the salty tang of the seashore in her memory, and took a last look around at the fine white sand and the gently lapping sea, already turning a deeper shade of jade. It was all so beautiful, and she had almost called it home. But that had been a fantasy, a hopeless dream that was already in the past. Home was a small town in England. She would put the finca on the market in the morning.

As experiments went, her time in Menorca had been a disaster, Annalisa thought, putting the phone down. And now she could not even make a success of rehoming Fudge and the rest of her menagerie.

The only bright spot in the whole nightmarish fiasco was the estate agent. He had nearly bitten her hand off when she’d rung him to tell him the finca was for sale. And Don Alfonso had endorsed her decision with exactly the level of enthusiasm that she had anticipated. It had been clear from the start that Ramon and his legal team had completely overwhelmed him. He was glad to be out of it. She had never really stood a chance.

Oblivious to the storm clouds brewing on his own horizon, Fudge was busy worrying the loose strap on her sandals. He cocked an ear and looked up at her expectantly.

‘Sorry, Fudge. I’ll take you to the village tomorrow and see if I can tempt anyone.’ Annalisa’s mouth turned down as she petted him. Looking at it brutally, who would want to take on an elderly, ugly dog? Another idea occurred to her and she smiled into his rheumy brown eyes. ‘OK, so how do you fancy exchanging fenceposts for lampposts?’ It would take some time to sort out a pet passport for him. But if she could find someone trustworthy to take him on…someone she could liase with to make sure that his transfer complied with the regulations…to see he got all his jabs and tests and the microchip…why not? When the finca was sold she would be able to afford to fly Fudge back to live with her in England.

She jumped at the sound of hammering on the front door. It sounded like every raid she had ever seen on a screen. She half expected a call of, Open up! Police!