Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
JOEY
There was something about Seville that Joey always loved. Barcelona was her home, but the narrow streets of the gothic area in which she lived and worked could become very claustrophobic. Seville was more open, and she enjoyed being able to see the whole sky.
But however lovely Seville was, she couldn’t hide from the guilt. The truth was, she hadn’t needed to leave her home city in such a hurry. Carmen had been asking her to go and meet some of the suppliers in Seville for a while, but there hadn’t been a specific date set.
Until that text had arrived.
Joey tried to put it out of her mind. She wasn’t going to reply.
Of course she wasn’t. She sat in the hotel restaurant eating breakfast, appreciating the strong coffee and selection of pastries.
It was enjoyable, sampling someone else’s baking handiwork.
Much like she enjoyed Vanessa’s culinary creations.
No, not helpful. Thinking about Vanessa wasn’t what she needed right now.
She was still wondering how to respond to the text Vanessa had sent her after she’d read Joey’s note. Joey shook her head and came to a decision. She wasn’t going to think about Vanessa, or the other text she’d received, until after she’d met the supplier Carmen had suggested she find.
Walking through the streets of Seville she felt lighter.
The sun was shining and the wide streets let all that wonderful light in.
She strolled past colourful shops and cafes.
It really was a beautiful city, with so many places to explore.
She walked along a path with a pale bricked wall alongside.
Draped over the top of the wall were tree branches laden with oranges and lemons, giving the air a fresh citrus scent.
Seville was famous for its oranges, of course.
And she never experienced fresh orange juice of the same quality in any other part of Spain.
Joey checked the map on her phone. She was just a minute’s walk from Senor Rojas’ orangery.
There was an archway in the wall, opening onto a small thicket of orange trees. Joey smiled in delight. She walked between the branches and fruit, marvelling at the deep green and bright orange.
Shaded by the fruit trees she saw an older man in a flat cap with a large grey moustache, sat at a rickety wooden table. That had to be him.
“Hola, Senor Rojas.” Joey raised her hand in greeting.
“Hola, Josefina.” The man stood and gestured to the chair opposite him.
Joey smiled, knowing that Carmen would have emailed him an introduction, featuring the Spanish version of her name. She offered her hand for him to shake.
Senor Rojas, or Cisco, as he told Joey to call him, enthused about his fruit produce, waving the fat cigar he’d lit to emphasise his points. She smiled as he gave her the hard sell, telling her his oranges, lemons and limes were the best in Spain.
“It’s ok, Cisco.” She spoke confidently in Spanish. “You know how much we love what we get from you. We just wanted to find out what’s new, what you’re recommending now, and how we might amend our regular order with you.”
“You are clearly a very wise woman.” Cisco tapped his cigar on the ashtray in front of him. “So you’ll appreciate my new variety of blood oranges. You don’t order those at the moment, and this year’s crop is delicious. You will not believe the flavour when you taste it.”
“I can imagine.” Joey sat back in her chair, enjoying the older man’s enthusiasm.
Cisco stood for a moment and took a few steps. He looked carefully at one of the lower branches, picked out an orange, then squeezed it. He nodded, just once, and pulled it gently from the tree. Once sat down he produced a sharp knife. “Look, I will show you.”
This was the kind of business meeting Joey could get on board with. She spent a happy hour sampling all the varieties Cisco grew. She needed to consult with Carmen, but she was convinced there were some improvements they could make to their order. They might even increase it.
Joey left the meeting, her bag bulging with samples, and headed back into the city to find somewhere to eat lunch. The mouth-watering fruit had awakened her hunger.
She knew she couldn’t avoid her phone and that text message forever.
It was lurking, both in her handset and in her mind.
Once she’d eaten she swiped up on the screen and looked again at the words that had turned her heart upside down the day before: “So lovely to hear from you after all this time, Jojo. I’m living in a new place now, somewhere better.
I’m turning my life around after the drink.
I just need a little bit of cash to tide me over so I can make my rent.
I know I shouldn’t ask you, but I have nowhere else to turn. Love, Dad x”
Joey put her head in her hands. It was textbook.
He had promised over and over again that he would stop drinking.
And he had asked over and over again for money.
Money she remembered him stealing from her piggy bank when she was small, when he thought she was asleep.
It felt like yesterday, the moment when, at the age of seven, she’d realised her father was lying to her.
The disappointment that crushed her tiny soul when she asked where the money had gone, and he said she must have spent it and forgotten. Life had never been the same.
The inevitable tears quietly flowed through her fingers.
She had been a fool to reach out to him.
She’d been lost in an optimistic dreamworld where he might actually change.
A dreamworld in which she might get the girl, too.
But she knew in her heart of hearts that she and Vanessa were doomed.
She’d taken a huge risk going home with Vanessa, but the lesson Joey had learned from her parents, especially her father, was that no one was to be trusted.
People let you down. People broke your heart.
And Vanessa would go back to the UK and forget all about Joey.
Joey cursed herself for allowing hope into her world for the first time in years. It had been na?ve. Her life had been fine before Vanessa. Just her, the bakery and the city she loved.
Someone had once said that it was the hope that killed you.
They were right. Joey wiped her face with her hands and sipped her coffee.
She blocked her father. She couldn’t tell him ‘no’ again.
She’d done it so many times before, and she was always assuaged by guilt, even when she knew she was doing the right thing.
She wondered if really, she was just a terrible daughter.
She was certainly a terrible choice as a girlfriend, or even a lover, for Vanessa.
Vanessa could have anyone. She was beautiful and kind and lived a thousand miles away. She would be fine. Joey knew that she would be the one left to nurse a battered heart.
She could sense Carmen frowning at her from Barcelona. “What about me, mija?” she’d say. And perhaps she was right. Carmen had stuck by Joey for more than a decade, there for her when no one else was. She gave a limp smile at the idea of her boss, her friend.
And of course there was Dani. But she had her own problems to deal with.
Joey’s phone vibrated. Vanessa’s name appeared. A text: “I’m worried about you. Are you ok? X”
Vanessa’s kind face smiled at Joey through her profile picture, and for a moment Joey felt warm. It was the warmth of knowing that someone cared, that someone had noticed she had run. That was new.
Joey sighed and toyed with her phone. There were no easy answers anymore.
She wasn’t sure whether there ever had been.
Abstaining from contact with her father, and from her love life, had kept everything in check.
But she couldn’t deny the joy Vanessa had injected into her life in the last few weeks.
Was there a part of her that could trust another person? She picked out one of the oranges from her bag and inhaled its scent. She imagined sharing the flesh with Vanessa, and smiled. There was no easy answer, but perhaps she could say something. Silence wasn’t going to get her anywhere.