Chapter Seven

 "Do you know what Raimon has done with our old flat?"  Maria asked her mother-in-law.  Grandma nodded and then shook her head slowly saying:

 "He's put it up for sale.  I heard about it in the fishmongers yesterday.  I didn't say anything because I didn't want to upset you, but I should have thought you'd hear about it sooner or later.  It's impossible to keep anything secret in this town."

 "I suppose he's got a right; it is legally his, but we had paid him more than half of what we owed him and I bet he doesn't plan to give us a cent of the proceeds."
 
"It would be out of character for him, if he does.  He used to charge me for helping with the housework.  The only way we could motivate him to do his homework was by offering a pay by results scheme.  He soon got top marks when there was a financial stimulus.  I don't know where he gets that from, not me that's for sure and my husband was a generous soul, as a rule."

 "Well, I'm going to see him!" Maria announced.  "It was bad enough when he took the roof from over our heads, but I'm not going to let him get away with this."

 "I thought you never wanted to see him again," the old lady reminded her.

 "I didn't.  In fact I swore I'd rot in hell before I would cross his door again, but that was when I was feeling devastated by the loss of Josep.   With your help I'm over the worst of it now and I feel I'm getting some of my combative spirit back."

 "Well, good for you girl," say I.  "But you'd get ice from the surface of the sun easier than get any cash from my Raimon," Grandma warned her.
 

 The children could not understand why their mother was so angry.

 "It is his place after all, at least legally," Xavier noted when Marta told him about it.

 "Mum feels he should pay us back some of what we paid him, but the banks don't give you a penny back when you can't keep up the payments though, do they?  Or at least that's what our maths teacher says."

 "What were you doing discussing our family problems with him?"  her brother protested.

 "I wasn't, we were doing compound interest on mortgages, and the statistics of house re-possession," Marta argued.

 "Why has Mum got so furious about this now,"  Xavier wondered aloud.  "I've almost forgotten what the place looked like.  It's been months since we moved out now.  I admit I hated the idea of living here at first, but we're settled now."

 "Though I'm not looking forward to our first winter here," Marta told him, looking out of the window at the late summer sunshine.  "It'll really be cold up in our bedrooms."
 
 

 Their mother would probably have written off the sale of the house as yet another example of Raimon's unscrupulous greed if it had not been for a letter she had received the week before and a visit she had made to an office in Barcelona.
 The letter had been a reminder that payment was four months overdue on a loan six thousand Euros.  The sum demanded in arrears was more than her monthly wage.  She had gone to the seedy office of the company in a disreputable part of town.  A greasy haired middle-aged man with bad breath and roving eyes invited her in to the dimly lit room at the top of the stairs.
 
"Yes, Senyora Ponts, he took the loan out last year.  He used it to buy a car," the shady character across the desk explained.

 Maria shook her head.  The day that her husband had arrived home with the new car he had told her he'd shared in a lottery win at work.

 "But I can't possibly pay now," Maria objected. "I'm a widow with two children."

 "Yes, how sad, but I'm not running a charity here.  We'll have to repossess the car for starters and-"
 
"The car was a write-off," she interrupted.

 "Well you'll just have to dip in to the insurance money then, won't you?"

 "It was only third-party and we can't find his life insurance policies," she explained in desperation.

 "That's not my problem, I'm afraid now, is it?"

 There had followed veiled threats and insinuations and Maria had left the office frightened at first, but then very angry.
 
 

 Now as she stood in the rain outside the elaborate oak panelled door of Raimon's town house her anger was dissolving into nervousness again.

 "Oh this is a crazy idea," she thought to herself.  "He'll never listen.  But what choice have I but to try?"

 Raimon was surprised to see her standing on his doorstep and hesitated, not knowing whether inviting her in would lead to trouble.

 "It's alright, I haven't come to cause a fuss," she said with downcast eyes and in a tone of voice very different from the defiant stance she had told her mother-in-law she would take.

 Elvira poked her head out of the living room and pursed her lips.

 "Oh God, how she's going to gloat," Maria thought with a shudder.

 Raimon led her into the living room and in humble tones she explained the desperate plight she was in to him.  He tutted and shook his head several times:

 "Oh dear, poor Josep really was a spendthrift, wasn't he?"

 She was forced to admit that her husband had not left them adequately provided for, then Raimon said:

 "And I'm sure you don't hold anything against me over the flat now, do you?  That was nothing personal, all strictly business.  I'm sure you understand that, don't you?"

 Maria swallowed and could not look at the beam of triumph on Elvira's face as she heard herself say:

 "Oh yes, of course.  Strictly business, I understand."

 "And it has all worked out for the best anyway, hasn't it?  You've got a roof over your head and mother has someone to look after her in her old age.  An amicable solution, wouldn't you say?"

 She was obliged to agree.  Then, her humiliation complete, she waited for Raimon's decision.

 "Well, I don't know," he started.  "You've come at a difficult time I'm afraid.  I can't promise anything right now, but I'll see what I can do.  I can't have my nephew and niece threatened with dire poverty now, can I?"

 It was the closest he came to saying he would help.
 
 

 On leaving their house she allowed her anger to build up inside her again:

 "Oh the villain!  He's going to keep me dangling on a string and with no guarantee he'll eventually cough up!"

 She rebuked herself and cursed her fate all the way home to where her mother-in-law presented her with a letter.

 "This came for you, special delivery.  Two very unpleasant looking men they were, dressed in motorcycle leathers.  What is it about, do you know?"

 "Oh it's nothing important," Maria replied, glancing at the Barcelona address and trying to look calm.

 "What did my eldest have to say for himself?"  Grandma asked.

 "Oh he was helpful, but he didn't promise anything."

 "Well, next time I go round there I'll see what I can do to persuade him, shall I?"

 "Where are the kids?"  Maria asked, changing the subject.

 "They're round at Frank's.  They'll be back before long."

 Taking the letter in her hand and trying not to let her trembling show Maria said:
 
"I'll just go up and get out of these wet things."

 "Yes, you better had, or you'll catch a chill," Grandma said, eyeing her daughter-in-law with a very penetrating expression.
 
 

 Upstairs, alone in her bedroom, she opened the threatening letter that the horrible man in Barcelona had sent her and broke into silent sobs as she read the contents.