“I couldn’t see him properly,” her patient added, his voice trembling. “It was dark, and it all happened so quickly. He appeared out of nowhere and took a swipe at me. I raised my arm to defend myself, and then he tripped. I wasn’t armed, so I ran straight home.”
“All done,” said Antía. “It’s much better than yesterday, but try not to move your arm too much.” She then turned to Roberto. “Your turn. You look dreadful.”
“Thanks a lot!” Roberto said. “A brilliant diagnosis, I’m sure.”
“What happened to you?” she asked, ignoring the sarcasm.
“I think I’ve dislocated my shoulder.”
“Where? How?”
“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” Roberto glanced at the bed where the young man was lying, his eyes closed.
Antía looked at him for a moment, hesitating. But Roberto’s exhausted appearance seemed to make up her mind.
“Of course.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Come with me.”
She led him down a hallway, and as they entered the room at the end, Roberto realized it must be Antía’s bedroom.
It was dominated by a large old-fashioned bed, covered with a brightly colored, handsewn bedspread. Against one wall was a mahogany closet, and on the opposite wall were a desk and a bookcase with half a dozen heavily laden shelves. The wallpaper, faded but elegant, gave the room a welcoming feel, in contrast with the worsening weather outside. There was the scent of candles, sandalwood, and perfume.
“Sit on the bed,” Antía said, proceeding to examine him gently but firmly. “You’ve got a few minor cuts and bruises, but your shoulder’s the real problem. We’re going to have to do a reduction to get it back in place.”
“That sounds painful.”
“It is,” she said as she wrapped a sheet around his torso and passed it under his shoulder. “I’ll count to five and pop it back into place. Are you ready?”
“I don’t know. How should I prepare for this?”
“Take a deep breath and close your eyes.” Antía placed her hands on his shoulder and turned it toward her at an angle of forty-five degrees. “Ready? One, two ...”
Before she had finished counting, she rotated Roberto’s arm with a swift, surprising movement. The pain was so intense and unexpected that it made the room spin. For a moment he thought he was going to faint, and he let out a cry, half curse, half exclamation.
“All done,” said Antía. “How does it feel?”
Roberto moved his arm gingerly. It still hurt like hell, but there was no longer a shooting pain as if someone were thrusting a knife into the joint. Whatever she had done, his shoulder was now back in place. Antía offered him a couple of painkillers, and he swallowed them in one go.
“Right, and now tell me what happened.” Antía sat down on the bed, next to him.
Roberto took a deep breath and started to speak. He told her about everything that had happened since the last time they met, including the conversation with Ramón Docampo, and how he had been ambushed by the lighthouse keepers. Antía frowned at this part, but her expression turned to one of alarm when he described their escape down the facade of the lighthouse. “What on earth were you thinking?” she protested. “You could both have been killed!”
“True,” he said, warily moving his arm in slow circles. “But the alternative was to wait until Ibaibarriaga and his chums got back.”
“I never liked him,” Antía muttered. “I never liked any of them, always keeping themselves aloof, so superior. But I didn’t imagine they would do something like this.”
“People always surprise you,” replied Roberto, exhausted. The room had started to spin. “Look ... Is it okay if I lie down for a bit?”
“Sorry!” She raised a hand to her mouth. “Of course you can. You must still be reeling from the pain.”
Roberto lay down and sighed with relief. The bed was soft, and it smelled faintly of Antía’s perfume. All of a sudden, it seemed like the most comfortable place in the world.
Roberto realized that it was the first time he had felt properly safe since he had set foot on the island.
27
Antía
A comfortable silence fell between them as the rain drummed against the windowpanes. Antía was sitting next to him, close enough that, if he’d wanted to, he could have reached out and touched her.
