Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 28 - Fiesta de Dementes

'Wow. According to some Spanish website, someone has been arrested from the Valladolid bullring, just near where we are supposed to be staying. They're claiming it's regarding this supposed serial killer,' Eloise said, sat next to Henry in his private jet as the club members waited for the plane to take off.

'They surely can't imagine they've already found the serial killer,' Henry said, irritated. He seemed stressed today, Eloise thought.

'Apparently, the investigation isn't over – they just say he helped the killer. All corridas have been cancelled there for the next two weeks. Probably so they can plant evidence,' Eloise replied, rolling her eyes. Even worse, it was supposed to rain on their third day, which, if severe enough, would spoil the hunting excursion they had planned.

Wasn't Spain supposed to be suffering from a drought?

Clearly not a very bad one.

'I hope they refund our tickets, that being the case,' Henry sniffed, before adding reassuringly, 'Ah. It's Spain, plenty of bullrings we can attend without an interfering police presence.' 

Eloise nodded, half listening as she composed a series of tweets. One said, 'I'm being silenced and persecuted by the deep state – freedom of speech anyone? I won't resign!!'

Another said, 'My grandparents would be ashamed by what this country's become. Britain fought a war for freedom, only to surrender to Covid tyranny! #VaccineGate'

'There's no serial killer. The left are looking for excuses to ban it,' she muttered once she'd finished tweeting. The video she'd seen on Facebook earlier had been very persuasive.

'What makes you say that?' Henry appeared a little flustered.

'Well, for a start, Spain's new policing minister is a vegetarian,' Eloise said.

'I see. I have to say, I believe there is a serial killer, but the police are rather making a meal of it,' Henry said, an odd expression on his face. 

But today, Eloise's mind was not on Soros, the Rothschilds, the World Economic Forum or the Great Reset. A more immediate preoccupation was bothering her, one which threatened to spoil her entire visit.

Eloise was always thrilled to follow her passion; touring the prestigious bull farms, possibly even having a go herself with a young calf. She'd tried years ago on an intensive course in Mexico, and always wanted to do it again. But she could not stop thinking about Javier, wondering what, if anything, she had done wrong. Her comments were spoken in a moment of weakness, but since they were reported, he'd been avoiding her. He had been stressed recently. Perhaps his mind was on his next encounter with el toro. But another, worse possibility was unsettling her thoughts.

Maybe he was patching things up with Maria.

She leaned back in her seat as they prepared for take off, checking her messages again. Nothing.

She bit her lip and tried not to cry, trying, but failing, to resist the temptation to text Javier again. He had made her feel so special. He could have any woman he wanted and he chose her. Surely he wasn't going to stay with his wife after all this?

As the plane took off and began to soar through the clouds, she took out a copy of La Salida, and flicked through it to cheer herself up. But so many of the gory photographs within its pages were of Javier Castella. On one knee in the sand, waiting for his next victim. Prancing around with a pair of banderillas. Standing with his sword, looking determined. She wanted to cry.

She'd been nothing but patient. What had she done wrong?

Did he find her embarrassing?

She put the magazine aside. Henry had taken out a packet of luxury cigars a friend had given him at Madrid's San Isidro Festival.