“But he had to die some time,” Juana said briskly. “So don’t worry about it. I must go or your beautiful dinner will be spoilt,” and she hung up.
We all have to die some time but not in this way, Cade thought, depressed and unhappy. This could happen to me! Some man could appear in her life tomorrow, next month, next year and she would have every right to walk out of my life and into his.
Immediately, he became aware of a suffocating feeling of fear. Now he had found her, it was unthinkable that he might lose her. What was he waiting for? Why was he fooling around with her like this? He loved her. He was as crazy about her as she was about him. The obvious solution was for them to get married.
A little after 16.00 hours, Cade, driving a glittering scarlet Thunderbird, drew up outside his house. Juana came to the door as he got out of the car.
A little after 18.00 hours, they were sitting in the garden side by side on the terrace swing. She had driven the car with an expertise that surprised him around the outskirts of the city; she had cried a little with sheer happiness; she had kissed him until his face felt bruised. Now, he took her hand and snapped around her wrist the diamond bracelet he had chosen from the five Creel had found: a perfect thing that had cost twenty thousand dollars.
At 20.00 hours they were clasped fiercely in each other’s arms, naked, coupled and moaning their pleasure, the sounds of the City a background to their passion.
At 22.00 hours they were sitting down to a candle lit meal of Turkey Mole, the festival Mexican dish that Juana had somehow found time to prepare between lovemaking and half-hysterical tears.
When they had finished the meal, Juana looked expectantly across the table at him, her diamond bracelet sparkling in the candle light, her eyes like stars. “Am I a good cook? Please tell me.”
“You are truly wonderful,” Cade said, moved. “Everything about you is wonderful. The finest cook in the world.”
She jumped to her feet.
“Let us leave all this. I will attend to it tomorrow. Now, we will drive to the Pyramid of the Moon. By moonlight, it is fitting for us to look at the Pyramid after the way we have loved.”
A half-hour’s fast drive brought them to San Juan Teotihuacan where the impressive archaeological ruins stretched over an area of some twenty miles.
At the base of the vast Pyramid of the Moon, the most ancient building in the valley, by the figure of the kneeling woman who is supposed to represent the Goddess of Water, Cade asked Juana to marry him.
There could have been no more romantic and dramatic background to this challenge to his future happiness, and he was conscious of the solemn occasion.
“Are you really sure?” she asked, holding his hands in hers. “No man has ever wanted me permanently. No man has ever asked me to be his wife. I want it, but do you? It will make no difference to my love for you if you don’t. Are you really sure?”
It was what Cade wanted. He had a child-like belief in the security of marriage. Once they were married, he thought no other man could take her from him.
They arranged to be married at the end of the week.
His work finished for the moment, free and light-hearted, he was content to let Juana who knew the City by heart, show him the places of interest.
Neither of them mentioned Manuel Barreda, although there were times when Cade thought uneasily of him.
Discussing the plans for their marriage, Cade was relieved when Juana said she wanted no fuss, no party, but a honeymoon in Cozumel.
This suited Cade very well. He had a horror of ostentatious weddings, having photographed so many in the past. Juana said she had a girl friend to act as her witness and Cade decided to ask Adolfo Creel to act as his. The fat Mexican was overcome with the honour. He even wept a little as he wrung Cade’s hand, wishing him the happiness he deserved.
Cade was more than happy. Juana not only proved herself an excellent cook, but an efficient housewife. She seemed to take the greatest pleasure in running the house, keeping it clean, marketing in her Thunderbird and providing restaurant-standard meals which Cade began to regard with concern as he was putting on weight.
It was while they were packing for their honeymoon, the wedding to take place the following morning, that Sam Wand came through on the telephone from New York.
“They are raving about the bull fighting pictures,” he boomed. “And I must say, Val, this tops anything you have ever done. What are you doing now? You coming back? Do you want me to dig up something here or do you want to go some place else?”
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” Cade said, wishing he could see Wand’s, face. “I’ll be out of circulation for at least a month.”
“Sweet suffering snakes!” Wand exclaimed. “You’re not serious are you? Married? I don’t believe it!”
When Cade had finally convinced him and had told him something about Juana who by now was standing in the open doorway, listening, Wand said, “I would never have believed it. Anyway, congratulations. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m sure. I’ll be back by the tenth. I’m going to stay in Mexico, Sam. I want you to find as many good assignments as you can covering Central America. Will you do that?”
“Sure, sure. I’ll have something for you by the tenth. What’s wrong with taking some shots of the bride if she’s as good as you say she is? With your name, I could get you a big coverage.”
“No.” Cade couldn’t bear the idea of Juana’s picture decorating the walls of those pin-up addicts whose name is legion. “She’s my own very personal property, Sam, and she is remaining that way.”
“Just an idea,” Wand said hurriedly, aware he had stepped out of turn. “Have a good time. I’ll be in touch with you on the tenth,” and he hung up.
“I want to be your own very personal property,” Juana said, coming to him. “Forever and forever.”
And at that moment, as he held her close to him, he believed her.
The honeymoon was only a partial success. Cade was worried most of the time by the attention Juana received from most of the male American tourists whether accompanied by their wives or not. At every opportunity and with the flimsiest of excuses, they were around her like ants after honey. This amused Juana and irritated Cade. There was no privacy on the crowded beaches; no privacy in the dining room where the American male was constantly pausing at their table for a chat. There was no privacy on the dance floor. The continual cutting-in, leaving Cade without his partner infuriated him. It finally got so bad that he insisted that they should spend most of the day in lounging chairs on their private balcony, and this quickly bored Juana. She began to talk wistfully of her Thunderbird and her home, and finally at the end of ten days, they decided to cut the honeymoon short and return to Mexico City.
Cade discovered that although marriage was a wonderful thing, he wasn’t now as free as he had been. When he wasn’t working, he liked to wander the streets, exploring alone, his eyes searching for new material, interesting faces, new angles, tricky challenges of light. But this wasn’t possible with Juana constantly with him. She disliked walking, and it was difficult to persuade her to leave her Thunderbird at home. Although Cade patiently explained that it was impossible for him to create images for future photography while flashing down the trunk roads at eighty miles an hour, Juana still insisted on using the car.
So five days after their return, Cade decided it was time to begin work again. While Juana was preparing an elaborate lunch, he put a call through to Sam Wand.
“Hi, fella!” Wand shouted when he came on the line. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Did you enjoy yourself?”
Cade said he had enjoyed himself.
“All still roses and turtle doves?”