Free All Yours by Translated By Miranda France By (author) Pineiro Claudia

drama. Lali was the worst. I could picture them, talking, gazing at each other, her weeping crocodile tears, him comforting her. As if Ernesto were never coming back!
    Lali and Ernesto are like that: over the top, mawkish and melodramatic.

20
    “Are you asleep?”
    “…”
    “Lali…”
    “What do you want, Daddy?”
    “To say goodbye. I’m going away until Monday.”
    “Bye then.”
    “Don’t I get a kiss?”
    “Leave me alone, Dad, I don’t feel well.”
    “Have you got a headache?”
    “No.”
    “What is it then?”
    “Nausea and vomiting.”
    “What did you eat last night?”
    “Nothing, Dad, I didn’t eat anything.”
    “But that’s not good, Lali. That must be why you don’t feel well.”
    “…”
    “Shall I tell Mummy to bring you up some breakfast?”
    “No!”
    “Lali, this isn’t about thinking you’re fat and you need to diet, is it?”
    “My, you’re sharp today. You got it in one.”
    “I’m your father, Lali.”
    “…”
    “Don’t you realize that you could end up anorexic?”
    “Dad, don’t talk rubbish.”
    “It’s not rubbish, Lali. I’m going to tell your mother to bring up some breakfast.”
    “No! I want to sleep a bit more – all right?”
    “…”
    “…”
    “All right, then.”
    “…”
    “…”
    “…”
    “I have to go, a cab’s coming for me.”
    “Bye, then.”
    “I’m going to Brazil, you know?”
    “…”
    “I’m off to Rio.”
    “…”
    “For work.”
    “How lovely for you.”
    “Shall I bring you something from duty-free?”
    “…”
    “Some perfume?”
    “Bring me whatever you like.”
    “Well, give me some pointers then. I’m a bit useless when it comes to things like that.”
    “OK, bring me some perfume.”
    “Any one in particular?”
    “No, Daddy, any one of them.”
    “Eat something, won’t you?”
    “…”
    “See you soon.”
    “Bye.”

21
    A horn sounded outside the front door. It was Ernesto’s cab. We kissed each other goodbye. It wasn’t a Wow! kiss, but at least it was a kiss. Which, for a couple that’s been together as long as us, was pretty good going. Married couples stop kissing as time goes by. Everyone knows that, although no one says it. And it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just the way things are. Sometimes couples kiss in public, so that others can see them kissing. It’s as if they’re saying “Look at us two kissing!” But when they’re alone it’s different, they don’t feel the need. Or, if they do, it’s because they fear that there might be something wrong in not kissing; since nobody ever talks about it, they don’t know that it’s the same for everyone. Everyone. Even people who have a more or less active sex life. Perhaps they make love once a week, without fail. Twice a week at best. But kissing is something else. Kissing loses its charm all too soon.
    I walked him to the door and waited there until the car pulled away. I waved him off. He made some motion with his head and raised a hand, without exactly waving it. I went to the kitchen and made a coffee. I took my time over the newspaper. The prospect of a weekend on my own didn’t bother me in the slightest. Lali was going to a friend’s country house, which was just as well, for both of us. After the previous night’s argument, relations were bound to be strained. I was going to lavish some time on myself, doing all those things which you never usually get round to. An intensive conditioning treatment, manicure, bubble bath, shopping, renting some highly romantic film of the kind Ernesto loathes, eating whatever there was, not having to cook for anyone. The more I thought about it, the more enticing the prospect was. It was going to be like spending a weekend at a spa, but in my own home.
    I went upstairs to get dressed. When I entered the bedroom, I didn’t see it at first, although it must have been there. I changed, brushed my hair, put on a bit of make-up and it was only when I was just about to go out