suppose.’
‘Rules and principles, eh?’ He shrugged. ‘
La adicción de la edad
, the addiction of the old.’
Alexandra grinned. ‘Perhaps. I know that she grew up in a different time but she doesn’t seem to realize that the world has changed since the war. Yes, there’s still food and petrol rationing in England and even clothes were only taken off the list last year because the black market made it so impossible to enforce.’
‘The war has taken its toll on us all,’ mused Ramón. He lowered his voice. ‘Though here we’ve been devastated by our own civil war, too.’ He fidgeted in his chair, keeping his voice down. ‘I shouldn’t be saying it but this self-sufficiency Franco is obsessed by is madness, it’ll never work. We’re an impoverished country that needs investment, raw materials, food even. Young people are feeling desperate and hopeless, they’re leaving Spain in droves.’ He lit a thin cigar and shrugged. ‘But at least it looks like relations with America are improving. Hopefully Spain won’t be a global outcast for long. But I didn’t know you were still going through such hard times in England.’
Alexandra nodded thoughtfully before taking a sip of wine. ‘People are still feeling the pinch of poverty everywhere. I think in a funny sort of way, though, my aunt misses the war. She was the first to join the volunteers ripping the railings down in London streets. There was a phrase we used during the war in England: “Make do and mend”. That was always Aunt Geraldine. And, of course, her husband, my Uncle Howard, was there during the war too. Life hasn’t been easy for her since he died a couple of years ago.’
‘But your life in London is comfortable? You like it there?’ Ramón sat back in his chair and studied her with curiosity.
‘Yes, of course … well, I mean, I’m one of the lucky ones. My Uncle Howard set up a trust fund for me, so I’m privileged enough to have money, and I have the royalties from my two books … But it’s rather suffocating at times. I can’t explain, it sounds so ungrateful. Then there’s always Aunt Geraldine’s expectations that I’ll give up my writing and settle down for the sake of security. I know she only wants what’s best for me but it’s different for women now.’ Alexandra looked up at her cousin, her face alight with hope. ‘I want more, Ramón.’ She surprised herself at how comfortable she already felt with him, so much so that she was able to voice those desires she would have hesitated to reveal to her London friends. ‘There are places I long to see. I don’t want to be dragged down some preordained path just because I’m twenty-five, a woman and unmarried. I need to follow where my writing takes me, that’s why I’m here.’
They talked briefly about the family. Alexandra sensed a reticence in her cousin, as though he did not consider himself one of the ‘clan’. He spoke of travelling and of emigrating to the United States, where he would start his own plantation.
‘Are you so desperate to leave Spain? You’re lucky to be part of a noble Spanish dynasty and a flourishing business,’ she pointed out.
‘Believe me, Cousin, being part of an aristocratic family in Spain is not necessarily a passport to an easy life,’ explained Ramón. ‘Under Franco a family’s mere survival can invoke suspicion and envy among surviving dissenters. The iron grip of
El Generalissimo
still prevails, and we de Fallas have always practised caution as a religion. It’s the one thing I admire our grandmother for: she’s never embraced Franco’s politics, even though our status as Spanish nobility and landowners should, by rights, have made us partisan with the nationalist cause. She trod a fine line and it paid off.’
Alexandra shook her head. ‘Back home, reports of Spain’s troubles were overshadowed by the war in Europe, I suppose. We don’t know about the Civil War and life in Spain from an insider’s
‘Rules and principles, eh?’ He shrugged. ‘
La adicción de la edad
, the addiction of the old.’
Alexandra grinned. ‘Perhaps. I know that she grew up in a different time but she doesn’t seem to realize that the world has changed since the war. Yes, there’s still food and petrol rationing in England and even clothes were only taken off the list last year because the black market made it so impossible to enforce.’
‘The war has taken its toll on us all,’ mused Ramón. He lowered his voice. ‘Though here we’ve been devastated by our own civil war, too.’ He fidgeted in his chair, keeping his voice down. ‘I shouldn’t be saying it but this self-sufficiency Franco is obsessed by is madness, it’ll never work. We’re an impoverished country that needs investment, raw materials, food even. Young people are feeling desperate and hopeless, they’re leaving Spain in droves.’ He lit a thin cigar and shrugged. ‘But at least it looks like relations with America are improving. Hopefully Spain won’t be a global outcast for long. But I didn’t know you were still going through such hard times in England.’
Alexandra nodded thoughtfully before taking a sip of wine. ‘People are still feeling the pinch of poverty everywhere. I think in a funny sort of way, though, my aunt misses the war. She was the first to join the volunteers ripping the railings down in London streets. There was a phrase we used during the war in England: “Make do and mend”. That was always Aunt Geraldine. And, of course, her husband, my Uncle Howard, was there during the war too. Life hasn’t been easy for her since he died a couple of years ago.’
‘But your life in London is comfortable? You like it there?’ Ramón sat back in his chair and studied her with curiosity.
‘Yes, of course … well, I mean, I’m one of the lucky ones. My Uncle Howard set up a trust fund for me, so I’m privileged enough to have money, and I have the royalties from my two books … But it’s rather suffocating at times. I can’t explain, it sounds so ungrateful. Then there’s always Aunt Geraldine’s expectations that I’ll give up my writing and settle down for the sake of security. I know she only wants what’s best for me but it’s different for women now.’ Alexandra looked up at her cousin, her face alight with hope. ‘I want more, Ramón.’ She surprised herself at how comfortable she already felt with him, so much so that she was able to voice those desires she would have hesitated to reveal to her London friends. ‘There are places I long to see. I don’t want to be dragged down some preordained path just because I’m twenty-five, a woman and unmarried. I need to follow where my writing takes me, that’s why I’m here.’
They talked briefly about the family. Alexandra sensed a reticence in her cousin, as though he did not consider himself one of the ‘clan’. He spoke of travelling and of emigrating to the United States, where he would start his own plantation.
‘Are you so desperate to leave Spain? You’re lucky to be part of a noble Spanish dynasty and a flourishing business,’ she pointed out.
‘Believe me, Cousin, being part of an aristocratic family in Spain is not necessarily a passport to an easy life,’ explained Ramón. ‘Under Franco a family’s mere survival can invoke suspicion and envy among surviving dissenters. The iron grip of
El Generalissimo
still prevails, and we de Fallas have always practised caution as a religion. It’s the one thing I admire our grandmother for: she’s never embraced Franco’s politics, even though our status as Spanish nobility and landowners should, by rights, have made us partisan with the nationalist cause. She trod a fine line and it paid off.’
Alexandra shook her head. ‘Back home, reports of Spain’s troubles were overshadowed by the war in Europe, I suppose. We don’t know about the Civil War and life in Spain from an insider’s
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