The Hand That Feeds You by Mercedes Rosende

Author:Mercedes Rosende
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781913394769
Publisher: Bitter Lemon Press

VIII

Ursula and Diego walk down Calle Sarandí. In the distance they see the blurry outline of Palacio Salvo in the fog; from the other side of Puerta de la Ciudadela, through the mist, it seems as remote as Australia, as Mars, as the Second World War.

They reach Plaza Independencia and pass through the gateway, cross the barren wasteland and leave behind the statue of General Artigas, flanked by palm trees. They observe the facades of the expensive office blocks where millennials launder narco cash from Mexico, Argentina and Colombia.

They go past the fountains, the concrete benches, the newspaper kiosk, and they stop right in front of the entrance to the emblematic old building. They look up, perhaps at the tower, and speak to each other. She points at something with her finger, he looks in the direction she is pointing and nods, their chins are raised, their eyes fixed on some point high up. She observes the man out of the side of her eye and asks him what he’s thinking about, because you’re undoubtedly thinking about something, aren’t you, Diego? Don’t just say anything. I can see it in your face, in your eyes.

He shakes his head and says no, Ursula, don’t be so sure, I try not to think about anything because I’m already exhausted, I want you to take over, to deal with hiding the money, to deal with the police, with Antinucci, with this whole business that has left me overwhelmed, wiped out. She nods several times, then takes him by the elbow and pushes him gently, tells him to get going, come on Diego, we’ve got a lot to do, take me to the place where all the money is, your future and mine. Don’t worry, I’m here and I’m going to take care of everything.

It’s clear that she’s happy.

Somewhere in Ursula’s mind are trips to Paris, weight-loss clinics and a beach with sunshine and palm trees, as there would be in the mind of anyone about to lay their hands on millions of dollars; there are houses with swimming pools and luxury cars. However, these are not the uppermost thoughts in her mind. She shakes her head, thinking.

Does she really care about the money, about the things she can buy with this money? Perhaps not. Perhaps at the beginning Ursula was hypnotized by the dream of money or the social prestige money brings, but now she is beginning to discover she wants more than that.

Yes, she’s starting to suspect that what makes her happy is having won the first round of what she intuits will be a long fight for those bags of banknotes, that her success makes her happy even if it is only provisional and temporary. She hears Diego’s voice but, absorbed in her own thoughts, she takes a second to understand what he’s saying.

“Here are the keys to your car, Ursula. It’s parked on the waterfront, down near the end of Treinta y Tres.”

She returns to reality. “Great. Now we need to make sure nobody’s watching us.

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