Under One Sky

Chapter 46

46

DECEMBER 2018, MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

At the Iberia check-in desk in the bustling departures hall of Benito Juárez International Airport, Hector heaves Pilar’s case onto the scales – 38kg. It must weigh almost as much as her. She looks like skin and bones in the blush-pink tracksuit that hangs off her frame. Her cheeks have a little more colour in them than they did when she left hospital a month ago, and her whip of black hair has been coiffed back to give her frame more stature. But her face, free of make-up but for thick black eyeliner, looks hollow. For once, Hector is worried about what Mari-Carmen will think when she’s reunited with her daughter in Madrid.

‘There will be a charge for this, Senora ,’ says a woman with a Castilian lisp. A red and gold hat sits primly on her head at a jaunty angle.

‘Obviously,’ says Pilar, flatly.

‘But how many bags are you checking in today? If Senor is under 23kg you can have some of his allowance. It will bring the charge down at least.’

Hector wonders why the woman in the hat is trying to be helpful when Pilar is responding so brusquely .

‘Just me,’ Pilar says soberly as Hector rubs the small of her back. ‘I’ll pay whatever.’

‘So, this is it,’ Hector says with a faux melancholy as he places Pilar’s carry-on holdall on the floor between their feet. They face each other and Hector takes her hands in his. She looks up at him with wide eyes.

Despite knowing that this is what Pilar wants, this is what she’s chosen, Hector can’t help feeling guilty about the sensation of overwhelming relief in his tummy, and he feels terrible when he looks in the eyes of the fragile bird standing in front of him. Despite what she did. He checked out long before she reached the check-in desk; the toil and the chaos and the shouting was just too much, even though Hector knows he played his part.

And then she says it.

‘I’m sorry, Hector. I’m truly sorry.’

Pilar clutches her travel pillow to her stomach as she falls onto Hector’s chest.

He wraps his arms around her.

‘Hey, it’s OK, we’re gonna be OK. You’re gonna be OK. The whole of Spain is waiting for SupaPila to return, to educate them in the art of molé ; the alchemy of the perfect salsa ; what a totopo should actually taste like…’

Pilar laughs, then her face drops again.

‘I’ll always love you,’ she states in a husky, low voice. Hector doesn’t know what to say. His mouth stays closed as passengers stream past them in their tense misshapen bubble.

‘I’ll always love Xalapa. I did have lots of good years there.’

‘I know you did. We did. It won’t be the same without you,’ Hector says, releasing Pilar from his arms .

‘ Vuelve . Go back and do wonderful things, Hector.’

Hector puts a hand on each of her shoulders before lowering his head so he’s level with Pilar. ‘And you in Spain, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you need to promise me something, Pilar. If you promise me this, then there’s no need to dwell on the past and be sorry.’

‘What is it?’

‘Slow down, baby. Cál-ma-te . You have a lot of happy times ahead of you, I know it. Just cálmate . Go easy on yourself.’

Pilar’s hooded eyes well up and she plants an accepting kiss on Hector’s closed mouth before she picks up her holdall, hugs her pillow even tighter and snakes off through security without looking back.

Hector puts his hands in his pockets and watches as Pilar doesn’t turn around; as she puts her belongings into a black plastic tray, as she walks through an archway, as she disappears around a corner, clutching her pillow to her stomach again. Then he lets out a sigh. He didn’t tell Pilar that he’s not going back to Xalapa tonight. Instead, he will wonder around the Zócalo, go for a cold Negra Modelo in his favourite bar on Calle Tacuba. He’ll catch up with Efrain’s brother Raymundo and his girlfriend to see their new baby, then Hector and Raymundo will wander to the market at Coyoacán to grab them all tortas before Hector beds down on Raymundo’s couch. In the morning, he will return to Benito Juárez International Airport. Tomorrow, Hector will fly to Paris.