“I haven’t seen him since. I asked around, but nothing. Looks like he’s run off. You’d think he’d at least check if I was okay.” Babs’s voice grew smaller. “I thought I meant more to him...”
Carla wished she could hold her tight. “At least you’re okay. Are you at the bar now? Maybe he’ll come back.”
“I doubt it. I’ve had to move out, can’t get to my bedroom to reach my stuff because the stairs are all charred. A few of my friends are on holiday, so I didn’t want to bother them.
“One of Diego’s mum’s properties was vacant for a couple of weeks, so I’m staying here for a while. It’s a bit out in the sticks, in Girona. If I look out of the window, I can see hills, fields and sky, and not much else.”
Carla closed her eyes, her heartstrings tugging for her friend. “I wish I could help you. Is Diego there with you?”
“He’s away for a couple of nights, so I’m here on my own. It’s a bit spooky at night, too dark and quiet. His mum’s given me some clothes to wear, but she’s ninety and dresses like a nun.” Babs forced a laugh. “Anyway, that’s enough about my woes. How are you?”
Carla didn’t manage to suppress a sigh. “You’ve got enough to deal with...”
“That bad, eh? Want to play swapsies with our misfortunes?”
Carla couldn’t bottle up the discovery of her family curse inside her. It seemed to have a life of its own and refused to stay imprisoned. Keeping the detail light so she didn’t overwhelm Babs at this difficult time, she told her about Ruben, how he definitely wasn’t the man she was looking for, how she’d met Anastacia at an exhibition and then found out her family curse was real. “Things have ground to a halt for me here,” she admitted.
“Don’t you have two cards left, two men to find?”
“Supposedly, but what’s the point? Fidele hasn’t replied from Sardinia yet and I have no idea who The Lovers card relates to.” She paused as a couple walked past her, kissing each other’s lips and giggling. Carla resisted her urge to push them into the canal.
“I’m speechless, and that doesn’t happen very often,” Babs admitted. “From what you’ve told me, you and Tom are solid. You love each other, so don’t let this stuff get to you. This thing happened years ago in a different time with different beliefs. The story might be tittle-tattle, like gossip magazines today. Don’t read too much into it.”
It was exactly what Carla needed to hear and she wanted more of it. “Sorry for telling you all this when you’ve got problems of your own.”
“Your tribulations have made me feel less alone. If you need to wallow somewhere that’s lonely, dull and very rural, feel free to join me.”
Although Babs was joking around, Carla could hear the stress and longing in her voice. Maybe some place in the sticks was exactly what Carla needed right now. She felt like she had the flu, and her head was blocked, her senses numbed. She needed some time to think of her next plan of action and to recalibrate before she returned to the UK. “Does Girona have an airport?” she asked.
“You mean, you’ll come?” Babs’s voice brightened and she started to babble. “The airport’s only thirty minutes away from here and you could jump in a taxi to where I’m staying. There’s a spare room and you could bring me clothes that don’t skim the floor and, oh, some underwear. I cannot wear Diego’s mother’s underwear garments, even if they’re new with the labels attached. I need makeup too. My skin looks like tree bark.”
Carla let out a cackle and it felt welcome. She knew there’d be more laughter to come if she spent time with Babs, and it sounded like she needed her, too.
“I can’t say I’m at my best, either,” Carla said, noticing a heaviness had returned to her legs. “I’ll catch the next flight I can.”
“You’re an absolute star, petal.”
Carla went to find a taxi to take her back to her Airbnb and called Ruben from the back seat. She told him she had to leave Amsterdam quickly and thanked him for their time together.
“Approximately sixty-five percent of our itinerary is still incomplete,” he said scratchily. “You also ran away from us the last time we were together. These are not the actions of a reliable person and this does not bode well for you in your relationships, dear Carla. Not well at all. I would suggest...”
She listened and heard so much of her own personality in his words, recognizing so many of the sentiments, statements and questions she’d used when formulating Logical Love that it made her shudder. “I’m truly sorry,” she said at the end of his speech. “Thanks, and goodbye, Ruben.”
Carla couldn’t remember much about her flight back to Spain, other than there were stairs up to the aircraft, a lady’s legs squashed against her own for the entirety of the flight, and the pilot announced they were cruising at an altitude of thirty-five thousand feet.
The two hours spent in the air seemed to go by in a flash and before she knew it, the plane touched down at Girona’s airport. Carla hopped into a taxi and handed the driver a piece of paper featuring the address Babs had given her.
She flopped her head back and looked out the window as they left the airport behind, driving first along the highway, and then into the countryside. At the welcome sight of dusty roads, trails of trees, a team of cyclists wearing red vests and the endless blue sky that was darkening as the evening crept in, Carla let out a long exhale. She watched as two butterflies fluttered close to her window, circling each other as if choreographing a dance routine. The farther the taxi drove, the more Carla felt like she was leaving the curse and her troubles behind, at least for a little while.
When the car pulled up outside the property, her surroundings felt peaceful and calm compared to Barcelona, Blanca del Mar, Carvoeiro and Amsterdam. The only noise Carla heard was the chirping of crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath her feet.
The farmhouse in front of her was constructed from rough gray stone with a ridged terra-cotta roof. The doorway and windows were arched, set into the building in a higgledy-piggledy style, so Carla couldn’t determine how many floors there were. The wooden door looked medieval as she took hold of the circular iron knocker and rapped it.
“Don’t laugh,” Babs said as a way of greeting when she opened the door. She swept a hand in front of her long, shapeless dress. “I know the words frumpy and tent come to mind.”
Carla tried not to giggle. She focused on Babs’s face as she entered the house, struggling not to look at her outfit. “I’m not saying a thing, other than ‘hello’ and ‘it’s so nice to see you.’”
The two women hugged so tightly in the hallway, it was like they’d both been swept out to sea and had found a rock to cling to.
They eventually pulled apart, and Carla began rifling through her suitcase. “I’ve brought the clothes you gave me, and I bought you some underwear and cosmetics at the airport.”
“Thank you. I’ve got cash to reimburse you.” Babs pressed her hands together in prayer. “Thank goodness you came. I hate Diego seeing me like this.” She led the way into the kitchen and showed Carla some bread, cheese and a bottle of Tempranillo. “Make yourself at home while I try to look human again.”
Carla was too tired and hungry to fully appreciate her new surroundings. She buttered a slice of bread and sat down with her elbows on the kitchen table, pushing her knuckles into her cheeks.
“You look how I feel,” Babs said when she reemerged an hour later. Her platinum hair was now clean and silky, and she was dressed in a black-and-white zebra-stripe dress. Her eyelashes had their usual spider-leg quality.
“Gee, thanks.”
They sat together, both quietly exhausted.
Come on, Carla, pick yourself back up. She looked around her, trying to focus on something positive. “This place is beautiful, so serene.”
“It’s bloody rustic, that’s what it is. I feel like a fish out of water.” Babs grimaced. “It doesn’t even have wallpaper.”
Carla had initially felt the same way about Babs’s Place and had grown to love it. “When you and Mum stayed in Diego’s other place, was it like this?”
Babs squinted, tapping into her memories. “It was an apartment above a pharmacy in Lloret de Mar, so it was an old building, but not prehistoric like this place. I didn’t expect to bump into a ghost or suit of armor when I went to the bathroom at night. It had this stone window seat, and me and Suzy used to sit and look out of the window together. We made up stories about the customers going in and out of the pharmacy, trying to guess what they were buying, to amuse ourselves.”
