‘You’ve seen how to do this before?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ she said, lifting her stick and beginning to prod at the tree, surprised by the soft grunt that sounded from her chest as she realised just how hard the job was going to be. ‘I’ve watched the harvest every year since I was a little girl.’
She was only thirteen and already almost as tall as her mother, her long legs making her appear older than she was. But it was soon clear to her that she was nowhere near as strong as the other young people who were working at the harvest, which only made her more determined to try.
‘You’ll get used to it, Valentina,’ Felipe said. ‘But I promise you, your arms will feel as if they’re screaming come morning.’
She took her stick from the tree and prodded Felipe with it instead, which made him laugh, and she only wished that she hadn’t seen the dismay in his father’s eyes when she glanced over at him and saw him making the sign of the holy cross on his chest.
Hours later, as the light began to fade, Valentina sat beneath a tree, her back pressed to the rough bark, her eyes shut. She was exhausted. Her shoulders and back ached, her hands were throbbing from the sores that Felipe described as blisters at the base of her fingers, and her skin was sticky with sweat. But she’d never before felt so exhilarated and proud of herself in her entire life.
‘Valentina?’
She looked up and saw her father standing before her. He smiled down at her.
‘You look exhausted.’
Valentina smiled. ‘I am.’
‘Your mother is very cross that I allowed you to stay all day,’ he said, lowering himself so that he was on his haunches. ‘But I told her that you’re a Santiago. This is like a rite of passage.’
‘I loved it, Papa,’ she said earnestly. ‘It was such hard work, but?—’
‘But it made you feel alive?’
She sighed. He understood exactly how she felt. ‘I want to do this every harvest, to be part of the process, to see the olives tumble into the nets and stand shoulder to shoulder with our workers.’
He reached out to touch her cheek, his big hand warm against her damp skin. ‘You make me proud,mi hija,’ he said. ‘Iknew you would love this. Didn’t I tell you that you were just like your papa?’
The first harvest was a special one, and she knew that many more would take place all over her family’s properties in Argentina and Spain, but this was the one her father had always attended, and this was the one she wanted to attend for the rest of her life, too.
‘You may stay and enjoy the festivities,’ he said as he rose. ‘Just don’t tell your mama I gave you so much freedom.’
Valentina nodded, stretching out her arms and watching as her father walked away, taking a glass of wine that was offered to him and laughing easily with a group of men. He would be going back to oversee theasado, and the smoky smell of the meat cooking over the open flames filled the air around her. But her attention was quickly diverted when she saw a familiar figure approaching.Felipe.
‘You look tired,’ he said.
‘So do you.’
He laughed and sat down beside her, holding out a bottle of cold Coca-Cola, which she took gratefully.
‘Today was fun,’ Felipe said. ‘I hope you’ll come back again tomorrow.’
Valentina took a long sip of soda, realising how parched she’d been, before smiling over at Felipe. He was so handsome, but she started to giggle when she saw how much dirt was smeared on his face. She reached out without thinking, gently rubbing her thumb across his skin to remove it, but the moment she did so, she realised that she shouldn’t have touched him so brazenly.
His eyes widened and she felt as if she’d stopped breathing, and they just sat there together, him not moving and her fingers still against his cheek. Until Felipe nudged forward and pressed his lips against hers without warning.
His mouth was warm and soft as it bumped into hers, but it was over as quickly as it had begun, and then he was sitting beside her again, his back against the same tree trunk as hers, as she tried not to think about how brightly she must be blushing. He looked every bit as bashful and embarrassed as she felt.
But as she wondered whether he regretted it or whether she’d done anything wrong, Felipe’s little finger touched hers, catching around her knuckle as they sat and watched the adults drinking and celebrating, neither of them saying a thing.
It felt like their little secret, and she never moved her left finger as she held up her cola with the other hand and took another sip, trying her hardest not to grin. Her chest was still rising and falling more heavily than usual as she sought to catch her breath, and all she could think was that she wanted to feel Felipe’s lips against hers again and again. But for now, she was content for his finger to be locked over hers, touching each other in a way that no one would notice unless they were standing right in front of them.
Harvest day had changed her life, in more ways than one. She knew now what it was to work hard under the sun, to use her muscles and be part of something bigger, but she also knew what it was like to be kissed, how it felt for a boy to touch his mouth to hers.
She glanced shyly at Felipe, who looked just as uncertain as she felt. And she knew, without a doubt, that she would do anything to see him again. Even if it meant risking the wrath of her mother a hundred times over.
It would be worth it.
