The Man from Barcelona

4. Estremadura

The fugitives changed trains several times over the next few hours. Leon hoped to throw any potential pursuers off their track. He knew that their descriptions would have been sent ahead by telephone or telegram, and although their intended destination would not be known, the ticket seller might remember having sold a grey-haired, sharp-featured man one-way tickets to Salamanca. So it was still possible that their pursuers would catch up with them, and he tried to ensure their movements were as unpredictable as possible.

They paused at one station to buy some food and ate their lunch on the next train. The only available food for poor travellers – which was their current role – seemed to be peas. Leon explained that peas were still the basic food of the region: 'This is very poor country. The more enlightened landowners do what they can to improve the people's lot – men like our friend Poiccart, enabling the people to grow better food, developing better breeds of animals and strains of crops, and investing in irrigation. But there are not enough enlightened landowners. Many of them leave the land barren to use it for hunting.'

As they headed north the weather was becoming more stormy, and Mirabelle realised that Antonio would need warmer clothes, and a coat and hat; but where were they to find them? She put one of her own woollen jumpers on Antonio – it was much too large, but it would help to keep him warm. At Caceres, where they again changed train, there was a stall selling scarves and hats to the hunters who flock to Estremadura in November for the hunting; Leon bought scarves and hats for all three of them, and they also bought food for another meal.

They had now been travelling since just after dawn, and it was growing dark. Mirabelle suggested breaking their journey at Caceres, but Leon hurried them on to the next train to Salamanca. 'Our pursuers will expect us to stop here,' he said.

'Are they really still coming after us? Do they want Antonio so much?'

'I think so. It isn't just that we've made them look ridiculous by snatching the child from under their noses; they have a particular reason for wanting to keep hold of him. They need him so that they can blackmail Joan Josep into working with them. What I don't know is why it is so important.'

'You don't know, even though we've gathered so much information since we came to Spain!'

'Yes, but most of it is only tangentially linked to this case. The prime minister and his friends would be very interested to know how many of the nobility of Andalusia are planning to overthrow them, but why should Joan Josep be involved?'

'Perhaps he isn't,' said Mirabelle. 'Perhaps it's a red herring.'

Leon nodded. 'Perhaps. He would be the ideal scapegoat – the aristocrat who has aligned himself with the anarchists and threatens his own class.'

Mirabelle didn't remark that Leon had done the same thing, but waited for him to continue. Sure enough, a moment later he turned to her and added, 'I have never advocated anarchy, darling.'

She laughed and kissed him.

Antonio, who had been well behaved during the whole day so far – excited by the train journey, happy to be going 'home to Daddy,' ate his evening meal of bread and peas and fell asleep on Mirabelle's lap. She watched his little face as he slept, feeling a pang of fear. How could they ever get him safely back to his father?

The train travelled on across the wide, empty plains of Estremadura, and then began the climb through the mountains. Mirabelle peered out of the windows at the gloomy peaks, each crowned with cloud, lit faintly by the dying rays of the sun. She felt a shudder of fear, and wished they were safely over the mountains and in Salamanca.

Perhaps she fell asleep; but the next thing she knew, Leon was gently shaking her by the shoulder, whispering: 'Darling, wake up.'

She opened her eyes and saw his staring into hers. 'What is it?'