Be Careful What You Wish For.

Pepa looked at the kitchen. Dishes were piled high next to the stone sink. The tablecloth was a battlefield of crumbs and jam. The dog's blanket was scattered to the four corners of the room, not one tiny piece so much as usable for stuffing a cushion. The whetstone was in the corner, two knives crossed beside it. And Margarita? Margarita was reading one of her stupid magazines. Pepa didn't shout. It did no good. She looked at the title of the magazine and sighed, 'Chicas.'

It was hard. For everyone, Pepa couldn't deny it. If only Jorge hadn't... Well, he had. Too bad, too many brandies in Guillermo's bar, too loose with the tongue. No-one said things like that about the Generalisimo without a visit to the Juzgado. Trust Jorge to go one better and get himself into the Carabanchel Prison. She hoped he was enjoying the company of all those actors and writers. Dreamers all, like her husband.

Dreams didn't put food on the table. And they didn't bring up daughters.

Mierda! Margarita was so lazy even the Devil himself wouldn't marry her. Pepa began to fill the sink and wondered how you made a match with the Devil anyway.

'I'm going out,' Margarita said.

'Where?'

'Out, he's coming for me.'

Pepa found it difficult to believe anyone had asked her daughter out, but a mother must know certain things. So she asked,

'Who?'

'Someone... someone special.'

Pepa shook tepid water from her hands and pointed a crooked finger at Margarita,

'Special? For you, a stupid lazy girl? Never in the world.'

Margarita stood up,

'I'm going to get ready, Mami. You should be happy for me.'

'To the Devil with you, chica mia!'

Pepa wiped at her cheek, but it must have been the dishwater rolling down her face.

Downstairs in the entrance to the apartment block Margarita passed the janitor and Pepa in a cloud of inappropriate scent. Alvaro Gonzalez Rueda almost beat Pepa to the doorway. They both caught sight of Margarita's stockinged leg folding into the rear of the huge car. The streetlights made the black paintwork gleam. The silver-spoked wheels began to turn and the car dissolved into the night.

'Ay... que chica!' Pepa sighed.

Alvaro's hand rested on the small of her back as he breathed agreement into her ear.

-*-

'And? And? What time is this, daughter?'

Margarita flinched. It was only two. What did she expect? A girl should not rot in a one bedroom apartment, should she? It was not her fault that her mother was old, with a husband in jail. Margarita gave no answer, just walked into the bedroom, leaving her mother to the couch.

-*-

'Again?'

'Yes, Mami, three times this week. I think he likes me.'

Pepa saw a flash of something as Margarita hid her hand behind her back. It was not for a mother to ask, but for a daughter to tell about such things. Just as she should explain the clothes and shoes from shops where customers had accounts. Shops for wives of Guardia officers, politicians or bankers. And their mistresses, of course.

'Who is this man? A man who comes only at night? A man who will not meet a girl's mother?'

Margarita smiled,

'He's mine, Madre, all mine, and I am his.'

'¡Qué romantica! I suppose he's going to lay carnations along Gran Via for you, his Chulona. Well, sweetheart, he is just another rich old man, I know it! Life isn't like some stupid Mexican's song.'

Pepa felt her lip tremble, and wondered why it was she and not her daughter who was upset.

'No, Mami, not an old man.' Margarita replied and her smile shattered her mother's heart.

-*-

It was lonely in the flat, now that Margarita had gone. Left with him, without a word. The black limousine had arrived in the dark hours and she had gone, vanished to who knew where. Perhaps she had gone to Barcelona! A place for devils and girls no better than they should be. She would come back, when he got tired of her sluttish ways. Things would be different then, Pepa would make sure of that. She lit a Ducados and looked out of the window into the street. In the distance she caught a glimpse of a long black car. Many rich fellows had them though, didn't they?