She shrugged.
“I’ll find something. I wish I were coming with you. I shall miss you.”
She pulled up at the Departure entrance.
“I’ll call you every evening,” Cade said. He hated the parting. “Look after yourself.” They kissed. “Don’t wait. You get off. I’ll call tonight around eight.”
On Cade’s second evening at the hotel at Uxmal, he had a telephone call from Creel.
Cade was now wishing he hadn’t been so money conscious as he was missing Juana badly. He found the evenings, after the light had faded and he could no longer work, dull and lonely. The previous evening he had spent over an hour talking to her on the telephone, and he was about to make another call to her this evening when Creel came through.
Impatient to talk to Juana, Cade curtly asked him what he wanted.
“I thought I should tell you, senor, that the magazine with your bull fighting pictures reached Mexico City this morning,” Creel said.
“So what?” Cade looked impatiently at his watch. Juana would be waiting. It was already a few minutes after 20.00 hours.
“They have been badly received, senor. I told you Diaz was a popular hero. His fans think you have shown him in a very bad light. The pictures have been received very badly.”
“What am I supposed to do, Adolfo? Put ashes on my head?”
“I thought I should tell you. This afternoon someone slashed the four tyres of my car. Someone who knows I helped you take these pictures.”
Cade stiffened and frowned.
“I’m sorry about that, Adolfo. Do you know who it was?”
“No, but I can guess. I told you Regino Franoco regards Diaz as a god. I think he did it.”
“Well, I am sorry.” Cade hesitated, then went on, “Buy yourself a new set and send the cheque to me. After all this hasn’t anything to do with you.”
“I wouldn’t expect that. I am just warning you, senor. If he does this thing to me, he might do worse to you. I think he could. You must be on your guard.”
“To hell with that fairy!” Cade said impatiently. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll twist his dirty neck for him! You get those tyres and send me the cheque. I insist.”
“Well, thank you very much, senor, but you must be careful. It is a good thing you are not here. By the time you return, all the fuss will have died down.”
Cade suddenly thought of Juana.
“You don’t think anything could happen to my wife, Adolfo?” There was a sudden tight feeling across his chest and he found himself gripping the telephone receiver unnecessarily hard.
Creel laughed.
“No, senor. This, I can assure you. Senora Cade is perfectly safe because she knows very well how to look after herself. Besides, she is a Mexican and very beautiful.”
Cade relaxed.
“You are sure?”
“I wouldn’t tell you if I were not positive, but you — that is different. Be careful, senor.”
“I too can look after myself, Adolfo, but thanks... I’ll be careful,” and he hung up.
He lit a cigarette, then he called Juana. There was some delay before she answered.
After greeting her, Cade told her what Creel had said.
“It doesn’t worry me, honey, but you being on your own worries me a little.”
“There is nothing to worry about,” Juana said. “But I will speak to Renado. He will know how to deal with this. He will bring that filthy little queer to heel. Think no more about it. How are things with you?”
Cade suddenly became tense. He was almost sure he had heard a man’s voice say something: as if the man was in the room with Juana and had called to her. He felt a rush of blood to his head.
“Cariño? Are you there?”
Cade listened intently. He could hear nothing now except perhaps Juana’s light breathing.
“Cariño?”
“Sorry. Yes, I am doing all right. It’s a dull job, but it’s coming along. Have you anyone with you, Juana?”
“With me? Why, no. What makes you ask such a thing?”
“I thought I heard a man speak to you just now.”
Juana laughed.
“It was the radio. I have just turned it off. I was listening to a play. It wasn’t very interesting.”
Cade drew in a long, deep breath.
“Oh... I thought I heard a voice. What have you been doing with yourself?”
He listened to her harmless recital. Finally, she said, “We must not waste any more of your money. Good night, cariño. I will dream of you.”
Reluctant to lose her company, Cade talked some more, then finally hung up.
As he went downstairs to the restaurant, he realised he was quite lost without her. Several tourists nodded to him, but he was in no mood for their company. He asked the waiter to get him an evening paper, then having chosen his meal, he hid himself behind the paper, reading and eating at the same time. Towards the end of the meal, he came to the radio and TV programmes. Interested to know what play Juana had been listening to, he tried to find it. Only light music and a concert were advertised. There were no plays on the Mexican network that night.
He sat still, staring across the big room, his mind suddenly crawling with alarm and jealousy. He was now sure he had heard a man’s voice. Could she be cheating so soon? He tried to still the rising torment, trying to reassure himself that he could have imagined hearing the voice, but why had she lied about the programme?
Returning to his room, he decided to call Juana. The time was 22.00 hours. He had to wait ten minutes and then the operator told him there was no answer. Angry now, Cade told her to try again. He paced up and down until the operator called him and said there was still no answer.
He asked the girl to keep trying. He felt a sudden urgent need for a drink. He rang the floor waiter and told him to bring a bottle of Tequila, ice and limes and to hurry.
He crossed to the open window and sat down, feeling the hot night air against his sweating face. There had been a man there, he kept telling himself, and now they had gone out together. Maybe they were still in the house, upstairs on the bed, listening with guilt to the ringing of the telephone bell.
A little after midnight, with the bottle of Tequila now half empty, Cade, drunk and coldly angry, asked the operator what was happening. She said she was ringing the number every ten minutes, but there was still no reply.
At 00.45 hours, the bell rang. Cade lurched across the room and snatched up the receiver. The Tequila had partly anaesthetised his mind. He was no longer frantic, but murderously angry.
“Hello?” he heard Juana say. “Yes? Who is it?”
“Where the hell have you been?” Cade shouted.
“Cariño! How lovely! I was only just this minute thinking of you.”
“Where have you been?”
“Been? Oh; have you been trying to get me?”
“Yes, I’ve been trying to get you. Where have you been?”
“Ana looked in. We went to the movies.”
Ana was the girl who had acted as witness for Juana at the wedding: a fat, giggling girl who Cade had disliked.
“Don’t lie! You went out with some man... who is he?”
He heard her catch her breath.
“Have you been drinking, Val?”
“Never mind if I’ve been drinking. Who was the man?”
“There was no man. I went out with Ana. If you don’t believe me, then call her. I will give you her telephone number.”
“I’m coming back. We’ll have this out tomorrow,” Cade said and slammed down the receiver.
With a shaking hand, he splashed two inches of Tequila into his glass and swallowed it at a gulp. For a moment, he stood shuddering, then the glass slipped out of his hand and he flopped face down on the bed.