She drank her wine, trying to hide her disappointment. A private flirtation conducted in the car was one thing, and a public serenade quite another, apparently.
Pushing back her chair, she said coolly, ‘The journey has tired me. I think I will go to my room. Goodnight, señor.’
There was faint mockery in his eyes as he rose courteously. ‘Of course, Buenas noches, Teresita.’ There was a brief hesitation before he used her name, as if to emphasise his rejection of her own formality.
She walked away, wondering in spite of herself why he had not offered to see her to her cabin. Perhaps he had decided that it was wiser to call a halt after all, to treat her with appropriate reserve. Probably that was why he had sent away the mariachi musicians.
She undressed slowly, and lay for a long time in the dark, tired, but unable to sleep. It was a relief to know that she had to disappear when they reached Monterrey. It was also a warning not to relax, or forget even for a moment what she was doing on this journey. Playing a part, she thought, and playing for time. Nothing else. And it’s just as well that I’m committed to vanish completely in a couple of days.
She breakfasted in her room early the following morning, enjoying the sweet rolls and strongly flavoured coffee a maid brought her. Then she dressed and made up with care and went to find Ramón. She found him in the main reception area, just coming out of one of the private telephone booths.
He said coolly, ‘Thank you for being so punctual. We have a long and tedious drive ahead of us. I hope you will not be too bored. Was it explained to you that I had business calls to make on the way?’
‘Yes.’ She was puzzled by this sudden aloofness.
He gave her a swift sideways glance. ‘I have been speaking to my cousin. I have a message for you from Don Luis.’
Her heart gave a little panicky jerk. She said, ‘Is that so?’
‘Don’t you want to hear it?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I do not. If your cousin has anything to say to me, then it can be said when we meet, and not relayed through a third person.’
He said evenly, ‘As you wish, señorita,’ but she saw a muscle flicker in his cheek, and guessed he was annoyed.
This time the journey was very different from that of the previous day. He sat in the back beside her, but there was a briefcase with him and his attention seemed riveted on the papers it contained. There was a distance between them that wasn’t purely physical, and today she didn’t even need to use her shoulder bag as a barricade.
She sat and stared out of the window at the purple and grey shades of the sierras in the distance. This was a region of Mexico she hadn’t expected to see, and normally she would have been fascinated by the changing scenery, the unrolling fertile farmlands they were passing through, but she was unable to summon much interest at all.
Nicola bit her lip. She was altogether too distracted by the presence of her fellow-passenger, and while that might have been forgivable the day before when he had apparently been deliberately making her aware of him, there was no excuse at all today when he was doing quite the opposite.
Clearly the conversation with Don Luis had reminded him of his obligations and responsibilities, she thought.
They made several stops on the way. Nicola wondered whether she was expected to remain obediently in the car on each occasion, but the first time Ramón glanced at his watch and said briefly, ‘I shall be not longer than twenty minutes,’ which seemed to indicate that she was to be left to her own devices.
And yet that was not altogether true, as she discovered when she left the car and stretched her cramped limbs. Ramón had disappeared inside some large official-looking building, and the car was parked between this and a large ornate church.
Nicola strolled towards it and found Lopez behind her. She gave him a cool smile and said that he could remain in the car.
‘This is a very small town,’ she added ironically. ‘I shall not get lost.’
But Lopez was civil yet determined. It was the Señor’s wish that he should accompany her, he said, and his tone made it clear that that was that. She was a little disconcerted, to say the least. No watchdog had been considered necessary yesterday, so why today? She visited the church, first tying a scarf over her head as she guessed Teresita would do, then wandered round the streets, examining pottery and fabrics on roadside stalls, and looking in shop windows full of leather goods, but conscious all the time of Lopez’ silent presence at her shoulder.
And when the twenty minutes were up, he reminded her politely that they were keeping the Señor waiting.
That, she found to her annoyance, was to be the pattern of the day. The swift and silent drive along the highway, while Ramón read documents and made notes on them, then the brief stopover and the saunter round the neighbouring streets.
At last, exasperated, she said to Ramón, as the car moved off once again, ‘Is it on Don Luis’ instructions that I’m being taken round the streets like a prisoner under guard?’
He glanced at her. ‘I thought you were not interested in his instructions.’
‘Am I expected to be?’ she demanded. ‘For months on end he behaves as if I don’t exist, and then on his command I must go here and there, do this and that. What else can he expect but my hostility—and resentment?’ she added for good measure, sowing the seeds to provide an explanation for her disappearance in Monterrey.
For a moment he was silent, then his mouth slanted cynically. ‘I think you will find that he expects a great deal more than either of those.’
‘Then he’s going to be be bitterly disappointed,’ Nicola snapped. ‘Now please call off your sentry!’
She wasn’t just acting. She meant it. Having Lopez following her everywhere was going to cause endless difficulties when she eventually made her bid for freedom.
‘Don Luis wishes you to be adequately protected,’ the even voice said.
‘Does he?’ she asked bitterly. ‘Then perhaps he should be informed that I’m in far less danger wandering round the towns than I am in this car, Don Ramón!’
He looked at her with open mockery. ‘Then why don’t you tell him so when you meet him? I am sure he would be fascinated.’
She hunched a shoulder irritably, and turned to stare out of the window, hearing him laugh softly.
‘I am glad your travel sickness has not troubled you today,’ he said after a pause. ‘Perhaps before the trip is over I may also he able to persuade you to remove your glasses.’
Still with her back turned, she said calmly, ‘That is quite impossible.’
‘We shall see,’ he said softly, and she turned and looked at him sharply, only to find he was once more immersed in his papers.
They ate lunch in a hilltop restaurant overlooking a lake. Nicola ate fish, probably caught from the same lake, she thought, and incredibly fresh and delicately flavoured. Ramón ate little, but he drank wine, staring broodingly into the depths of his glass.
She had expected that he would instruct Lopez to stop at a motel again before the siesta hour, but he did not do so. Instead the car sped on through the heat-shimmered landscape, and eventually, lulled by the motion, Nicola dozed.
She awoke eventually with a slight start, aware that she had been dreaming, but not sure what the dreams were about. Until she turned her head slightly, and then she remembered.
In