Free The Time in Between: A Novel by María Dueñas, Daniel Hahn

the most cynical: “Long and steep is the path of life. Not all reach the wished-for end, where success and fortune await them. Many are left by the wayside: those who are inconstant, weak-natured, who are negligent, ignorant, who trust only in luck, forgetting that the most resonant and exemplary triumphs were forged through the power of study, perseverance, and will. Each man can choose his own destiny: Make yours!”
    That afternoon I went to see my mother. She brewed a pot of coffee and as we drank it, with the blind, mute presence of my grandfather beside us, I made her privy to our plans and suggested that once Ramiro and I had settled in Africa perhaps she could join us. As I’d expected, she didn’t like the idea one bit, nor did she agree to go with us.
    “There’s no reason you have to obey your father or believe everything he’s told you. The fact that he’s got problems with his business doesn’t mean anything is going to happen to us. The more I think about it, the more I think he was exaggerating.”
    “If he’s so frightened, Mother, it’s for a reason; he’s not going to go and make things up . . .”
    “He’s afraid because he’s used to giving orders without anyone answering back, and now it upsets him that the workers—for the first time—are beginning to raise their voices and demand their rights. The truth is, I can’t stop wondering whether accepting this fortune, and above all the jewels, wasn’t a crazy thing to do.”
    Crazy or not, the fact was that from then on, the money, the jewels,and our plans became part of our day-to-day lives, quietly not brashly, but ever present in our thoughts and conversations. As we had planned, Ramiro took charge of the arrangements to create the company, and I restricted myself to signing the pieces of paper he put in front of me. Besides that, my life went on as usual: busy, fun, and filled to the brim with love and foolish naïveté.
    The meeting with Gonzalo Alvarado had allowed my mother and me to smooth over the rougher parts of our relationship, but our paths continued irremediably along different courses. She supported herself stretching out to the utmost the final remnants that had come from Doña Manuela’s workshop, occasionally sewing for some neighbor, remaining inactive most of the time. My world, in contrast, was already something quite different: a world that would have no place for patterns or linings, in which almost nothing remained of the young dressmaker I had once been.
    The move to Morocco was still a few months away. During that time, Ramiro and I went out and came home; we laughed, smoked, made love like lunatics, and danced the carioca till dawn. Around us the political scene remained explosive, and the strikes, the labor disputes, and the violence on the streets continued as usual. In February the left-wing Popular Front coalition won the elections; the Falangists reacted by becoming more aggressive. Words were replaced by pistols and fists in political debates; the tension was heightened. Yet what did all that matter to us, if we were already just a couple of steps away from a new phase in our lives?

Chapter Five
    ___________
    W e left Madrid at the end of March 1936. I went out one morning to buy some stockings and when I returned I found the house in turmoil and Ramiro surrounded by suitcases and trunks.
    “We’re leaving. This afternoon.”
    “Did Pitman Academies answer?” I asked, my stomach in knots. He replied without looking at me, pulling out trousers and shirts from the wardrobe.
    “Not directly, but I’ve learned that they’re considering our proposal very seriously. So I think this is the time to start spreading our wings.”
    “And your job?”
    “I quit. Today. I’d had more than enough of them, they knew it was only a matter of days before I’d go. So it’s good-bye, Hispano-Olivetti, we won’t be meeting again anytime soon. There’s another world waiting for us, my love; fortune favors the