Free The Sky Over Lima by Juan Gómez Bárcena Page A

Georgina.”
    Cristóbal’s expression has grown stern.
    â€œYour cousin, is she? And which one of you is courting her? For the sake of our business, I hope I’m mistaken about you, because it is a rule of mine never to wet my nib for love affairs between blood relatives. Nor do I place my wax seal on romances between two men, much less produce letters for girls who have not yet been presented in society. Even we scriveners have our ethics, you know.”
    â€œThere’s no need to worry about that. We’re not the ones courting her.”
    â€œShe’s hung up on another man. A Spanish friend she’s been exchanging letters with for some months.”
    â€œA friend, or maybe something more,” Carlos adds.
    â€œThe truth is, it’s hard to tell how things stand, Professor.”
    â€œIt’s hard to tell, but my cousin, you know—she’s smitten.”
    â€œShe can’t think about anything else, poor thing.”
    Cristóbal focuses on his papers again.
    â€œI understand. And I suppose you want me to help her with the next letters, is that it? Put a little polish on the correspondence to see if we can reel this Spanish fellow in?”
    â€œNo, she takes care of the letters,” Carlos answers, his voice suddenly harsh.
    â€œWe are asking a much smaller favor, Professor. The girl insists, you know, on writing the letters herself. She’s a romantic, his cousin is. The one we’re not so sure about is that friend of hers.”
    â€œWe’re concerned her affections might be unrequited, you see. That he’s only stringing her along,” says Carlos.
    â€œThat even if it seems like he’s ready to pluck the hen, the only thing he really wants to take off her is her inheritance.”
    â€œThat’s why we need your advice, Professor.”
    â€œWe were told there’s nobody in Lima who knows more than you about love letters and how to interpret them,” says José.
    â€œIf you could give us your impression as to the gentleman’s intentions . . .”
    â€œOr tell us if there are signs he is going to make some noble gesture, like perhaps writing her a poem or two. That’s just the sort of thing she longs for, you see.”
    Professor Cristóbal twirls his eyeglasses between his fingers as he listens.
    â€œYes, I see. So let’s just get right down to it: Do we or do we not want the courtship to end well?”
    â€œWe do, we do.”
    â€œOf course we do! All we want is for his cousin to be happy.”
    The scrivener nods, pleased.
    â€œI’m glad to hear that, because I also refuse to dip my nib to swim against love’s tide. Indeed, you might say that’s my golden rule in this work: love above all else. Even a poor man has ethics. You understand.”
    â€œThere’s no need to worry about that.”
    â€œI don’t help seduce married women either. That’s another rule that’s not up for discussion.”
    â€œYou can rest assured that everything is quite ethical and wholesome.”
    â€œAnd very romantic. We’re romantics too, you know.”
    The Professor claps his hands together loudly.
    â€œThen say no more. But if you want my opinion, we’re going to need the chap’s letters. So if you could—”
    Before he’s finished the sentence, Carlos has already placed a packet on the table.
    â€œHere are his letters, and hers are at the bottom. You can’t say we haven’t been thorough.”
    Cristóbal accepts the bundle of letters and warily examines both sides of it.
    â€œAnd how is it that you have hers too? Does your cousin write them and then just stick them in a drawer?”
    â€œShe mails them, but she makes a lot of drafts beforehand, Professor,” says Carlos.
    â€œAs we said, she is unable to think about anything else.”
    â€œShe’s completely hung up on him.”
    â€œAnd it’s hard to tell