The Scent of Lemon Leaves by Clara Sanchez

Author:Clara Sanchez [Sanchez, Clara]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: concentration camps, deception, second world war, memory, nazism, friendship
Publisher: Alma Books
Published: 2012-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

At last I managed to get the couple off my back and go to meet Julián at the lighthouse, among the wild palms. I said I had to go to the chemist to get something for my cold, because, even though they hadn’t asked what I was doing, it was better to be one step ahead of them and not give rise to suspicions. It was getting dark earlier and earlier every day, and it was cold. Soon we’d have to meet somewhere with a roof over our heads. I went as fast as I could through the bends, hoping with all my strength that Julián had waited for me, if not sitting on the bench or inside the ice-cream parlour, then sheltering in his car. If only he had the patience to wait the forty-five minutes, more or less, of my delay. I had so much to tell him. My information was so juicy that it was boiling inside my head. Deep in my heart I thanked God for my being caught up in this adventure. I knew things that none of the inhabitants of this town could imagine, yet did I really know or did I just imagine I knew, with Julián’s help?

As always and out of precaution, I rode past the lighthouse then parked next to the ice-cream parlour, which at this time of year was serving everything except ice cream, and walked towards the stony area. I couldn’t see the sea but only hear it and smell it. It was like being blind. I’d barely begun my walk when a horn tooted. I went in that direction and found Julián’s car. What a relief! What an incredible relief! I’d become the plaything of high-speed emotions.

“I was worried,” he said when I opened the door, and I believed him, because for both him and me these appointments were sacred. This was the time in which the most absurd details and the behaviour of Karin, Fred, Otto, Alice and Martín (but not Alberto) finally got to make sense.

“I can’t stay very long. Before I go back I have to drop by the chemist’s to pick up something for my cold.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Julián said, “and I believe I’m a fool. I’ve got you mixed up in a right old mess and I’m putting you in danger. In short, what’s the point? However much we get to know, it won’t be of any use to us. We’re alone and there’s a lot more of them and they’re organized. Nothing we find out will send them to prison. They’re very old, leftovers of something that happened in a nightmare.”

“And what about the young ones? Martín, the Eel” (when I said Eel, part of my tongue held back) “and the rest of them?”

“There are a lot of people belonging to some or other secret organization but, as long as they don’t do away with people… like… well… Elfe… Listen, I’m serious, I don’t want you to go back there. We don’t know what they’re capable of doing.

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