They walked for another mile or so, the heat building all the time. Sennen was hot and uncomfortable, Rosemary was thirsty and tired. ‘Where are we going?’ she bleated.
‘Right here,’ said Rachel.
They had stopped outside a busy café bar sitting in the shade of several trees opposite the beach.
‘Come and meet my boss.’ She shouted to a small man with a big belly who was working at a coffee machine. ‘Ola, Tomas!’
He looked over at her and lifted his chin in greeting. He glanced at Sennen and Rosemary.
‘Not more of your street urchins, Rachel?.’
‘Tomas, these are friends of mine, just arrived from England. I was at school with them.’
Tomas turned away from her and shot a jet of hot steam through a pipe. ‘You think I was born yesterday. You have been at school with all the girls in the UK?’
‘I am very popular.’ Rachel laughed, then putting her head on one side and blinking coquettishly said, ‘Please, Tomas? Sennen and Rosemary just need a little tiny job.’
He gave a guttural throaty snort. ‘Experience?’
Rachel nudged Sennen.
‘Oh yes,’ Sennen answered convincingly, ‘I’ve worked in lots of cafés and pubs at home. I love it. Meeting so many interesting people.’
‘Don’t overdo it,’ Tomas replied, smiling, ‘I can tell bullshit when I hear it.’
‘And I’m very good at that too,’ said Sennen.
Tomas laughed. A deep laugh that wobbled his belly. ‘Okay. I give you girls aprons and Rachel will show you what to do. By tonight I will see if you are good.’
It was a long day. The café was popular with tourists and locals and whatever language barrier there may have been the girls got over with sign language and a smatter of O-level Spanish.
Tomas watched them all day, shouting disapproval and orders or nodding silently.
It was gone midnight before the last customer left.
‘Clear the tables and I will tell you my decision,’ he told them.
At last the place was tidy, bar and glasses cleaned, chairs upturned on all the tables except one, where Tomas sat reading a newspaper.
He gestured for them to join him.
Rosemary sat down yawning. ‘Tired, eh?’ Tomas asked.
‘Yes.’
‘You work hard today. You were good with the customers.’ He looked at Sennen. ‘You are cheeky. Too much chat, but I think they liked you.’
Rachel clapped her hands. ‘Told you they were good.’
He slid a sideways look at her. ‘I tell you before, I was not born yesterday. These two have no experience. All bullshit.’
He put his newspaper on the table. ‘No more lies. I will give you the job but bring me no trouble. No boyfriends, no police. Understood?’
Rosemary nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She looked at Sennen who was looking at Tomas’s newspaper. ‘Sennen,’ she said. ‘What do you say?’
Sennen tore her eyes from the paper. ‘What?’
‘We’ve got a job. Tomas has given us the job.’
‘Oh … right. That’s great.’ She turned to Tomas. ‘May I have your paper?’
In bed that night, Sennen looked at the newspaper again, at the photo of a young man in a sequined black biker jacket, swirling a magician’s wand and a wolfish smile. He was here. He had told her he would be. He had laughed when she said she would follow him. She couldn’t wait to surprise him. She read the article. Amongst the Spanish words she managed to translate were ‘Senor A’Mayze seria en el Teatro Arriaga hasta el 30 do Septiembre.’ So now she knew he was at Arriaga Theatre until 30th September. She had six days in which to surprise him.
The work at Tomas’s Café was hard but as the days passed her feet got less sore and the heat more bearable. They were earning good tips and Tomas was pleased with them. On the night of 29 September, Sennen asked Tomas if she could have the next night off.
‘Por qué?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘I have to go to the dentist.’
He laughed. ‘No, you don’t. You are meeting someone? A boy, perhaps? Not the dentist, anyway.’
She decided to tell – almost – the truth. ‘Tomas, I want to see the magic show at the theatre in town. I have always loved magic and one of my favourite magicians from England is in the show and … Don’t tell Rachel or Rosemary. They will laugh at me.’
Tomas looked right into her eyes. ‘I smell the bullshit,’ he said. ‘But, I will give you one night off … to see the dentist … and then you will be back. Si?’
She flung her arms around him. ‘Si, si. Gracias, Tomas.’
He peeled her off him. ‘But you still have to work tonight and tomorrow.’
‘Of course.’ She hesitated before asking, ‘May I have my wages?’
He shook his head. ‘Not until the day after tomorrow.’
With no money she couldn’t buy a ticket, but it didn’t matter. She left work early and went back to the squat to shower and change. Looking in the small, speckled mirror she saw a slightly thinner, now-freckled, face. Her sun-lightened hair gleamed as it hung over her tanned shoulders. She looked really pretty. What a surprise he was going to get.
She walked into town, soaking up the evening sun. People were promenading, hand in hand, or sitting on the pavements under coloured umbrellas sipping cold wine or beer. A tapas bar was playing a pop song. Sennen relaxed. The music put a bounce in her step and confidence in her heart. Tonight was going to be the best night of her life.
Outside the theatre, an excited crowd was milling around, laughing and calling to each other. Sennen looked closely at the photographs of the performers hanging in the glass cases of the outer walls of the building.
There were names and faces of famous magicians from all over the world but she couldn’t find Ali’s. At last the crowd thinned as they went inside to find their seats and she could get a closer look. In a group photo of the cast, she saw him. Fourth from the end, next to the cabaret dancers in rhinestoned leotards with feathers in their hair and fake eyelashes. He was looking straight out to the camera, his dazzling smile lighting his face, his eyes looking right at her. She put her hand to the glass and touched him. It suddenly all seemed worth it. ‘Ali. I’m here to surprise you. Not long now. I have missed you.’
She had two hours to wait. She sat in a side-street café next to the stage door and ordered a coke, her eyes glued to the theatre’s exit. She could hear the band through the back wall and the applause from the audience as the last curtain call was taken.
She finished the coke and, leaving the money by the empty glass, she walked to the stage door. She was the first person there. Soon the fans would have escaped the theatre and be here, jostling with their programmes for autographs. She stood her ground as they started to arrive.
The stage door opened and a gaggle of the girl dancers appeared in leggings and warm cardigans, still with their showgirl make-up on. Their boyfriends swiftly escorted them away. Next came some men carrying musical instruments, then two glamorous women, a double act, Sennen supposed, who signed a few autographs and then … there he was.
Her heart missed a beat. His dark hair was even longer, hanging sexily in his eyes and tumbling over his shoulders. He beamed at the autograph hunters as they pressed forward.
She held back, wanting to freeze this moment for as