“What else would I do?”
“In that case, it’s no use to you. Can I have it?”
Alex shook his head with an incredulous smile and handed it over.
“I know. I have strange hobbies. So did Dali.”
“Dali has strange everything.”
“True, though he had decent taste in men, once upon a time.”
“Wait, Dali’s not queer.”
“I assure you he is. Gala too. Bisexual or whatever you want to call it. Their marriage is genuine, but our nation’s great Surrealist is as at home on the fruit tree as you or I.”
Alex swirled his orange juice, unsure what to believe and wishing he had some vodka.
“What?” Jago asked.
“Just you. I mean, the way you speak. It’s colourful, is all.”
“A bit more colour in the world can only be a good thing, wouldn’t you say? We lost too much colour under Franco. Especially in the south.”
“And where areyoufrom, exactly?”
“A small town, like you, outside Grenada. Fuente Vaqueros.”
Alex paused his drink halfway to his lips.
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Of course I’ve heard of it. Lorca’s hometown.”
“Ah, yes, Lorca, our great poet. You’re directingBlood Wedding, aren’t you? How could I forget?”
“I am, in my own way.”
“Meaning what?”
“It’s more of a dance piece. One woman, my friend Joanna. It’s an interpretation.”
Jago mumbled something through another bite of his sandwich, hurriedly swallowing it before clarifying. “Change it.”
“What?”
“The movie Saura’s making? Have you heard about this?”
“Yes…”
“It’s about a dance company producingBlood Wedding. He’s all but finished it.”
Alex pressed his fingertips harder into the cool glass of his drink.
“You know? Carlos Saura, the filmmak—”
“I said I’d heard about it.” He caught a look from Victoria and instantly lowered his voice. “I mean… that’s great. It might make people more interested in our show.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not trying to… When do you open?”
