Free Havana Jazz Club by Lola Mariné Page B

slowly over Madrid, and shadows started to stretch over the tiny apartment. Curled up on the couch in a fetal position as though she wanted to return to the warmth of the womb, Billie tried to make a decision. She had spent hours mulling over her options and still didn’t know what to do. She was supposed to meet Orlando in less than an hour. He had made it very clear what he expected of her in the future. She was afraid of what he would do when he came home if she didn’t show up at the bar.
    “Hello?” Gladys’s voice answered through the telephone.
    “Gladys . . .”
    “Hey, girl! How are you?” Gladys said. The sob that came through the line after a brief silence alarmed her. “What’s going on?”
    Through floods of tears, Billie told her friend everything that had happened over the last few days.
    “You have to leave that man, Billie,” Gladys advised her. “There’s no doubt about it. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t treat you like this. And you can be sure that when a man dares to hit a woman, it’s never the last time, no matter how many times he asks for forgiveness, even though he swears on his mother’s life he’ll never attack you again. He’ll do it again, Billie, and it’ll be worse each time. You have to get out of that house right away.”
    “But where am I going to go?” Billie asked, her voice wavering with tears.
    “Come here. Aldo and I will help you.”
    “I can’t go to your house. It will be the first place Orlando looks for me, and I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”
    “Don’t worry about us, darling. But you’re right: this is the first place he’ll come . . .” Gladys paused, thinking. “Okay, for now you come here, and then we’ll think of something. We’ll find a safe place for you. Everything will be okay.”
    Gladys was right. She couldn’t waste any more time. She put a few things in a duffel bag and grabbed some money. Orlando was in charge of both their incomes and gave her a small allowance for the daily shopping and her expenses. It wasn’t much, but she could live on it for a few days and pay for a room. When she closed the door behind her, her heart shrank. There was no turning back. Orlando hadn’t left her any alternative. The sun of her life had been eclipsed forever, and she would have to find her own light, even with her soul smashed into a thousand pieces.

CHAPTER 13
    Billie found live-in work as a maid at a luxurious chalet in a residential neighborhood on the outskirts of Madrid. She chose the job because it enabled her to avoid the center of the city and the danger of running into Orlando. She was still afraid all the time. Gladys had told her that Orlando had come to her apartment and searched every last corner, even though she and Aldo both swore that Billie wasn’t there and they didn’t know where she was. But he didn’t listen to them—he wasn’t seeing reason. He bellowed that Billie was his wife and that she would return to their conjugal home, by hook or by crook. After going over the place one more time, he stormed out of the apartment in a rage, disowning his friends and peppering them with insults and threats.
    Gladys and Aldo had been telling the truth. That night, when Billie arrived at their house, they brought her to a hostel and Gladys stayed with her. The next day she brought up the newspapers so they could look for a job, and Billie didn’t leave the room until they found one. Then her friends took her to the bus station without really knowing where she was heading. When she was settled, Billie called them to tell them that she was okay, but she didn’t reveal where she was, and they didn’t ask. It was better that way.
    “I’ll call you soon,” she told Gladys.
    Billie took care of the domestic chores for the Quirogas, a well-off couple with two children. She got the kids out of bed in the morning, served them breakfast, took them to school, and then did the shopping, cleaned the house,