FRANCESCA DE AVALON - Chapter 11

Sept 2004 - Sept 2005

Rasta and Ben loved their new job. As soon as we arrived at the gravel pit each evening they would race off into the grassland and the only sign of their whereabouts were distant yelps of delight and occasional glimpses of movement. It turned out, much to my surprise, that they were hunting boar.

From the top of the gravel mounds they would spy out their prey and then hurtle off in pursuit. Pearlie was also more absent than present at the van, there being an endless supply of small creatures for her to hunt and consume.

I bought myself a powerful searchlight and mounted it above the back doors of the van. With that and my binoculars I could survey most of the extensive field which included a marshy, somewhat brackish shallow lake and very few stunted trees to obscure my view.

For the most part, my evenings included a peaceful stroll around the perimeter and when night fell I would settle into bed and read the Spanish books I was borrowing from Angel’s collection. In this way I was constantly improving my vocabulary and grammar.

After about a week I arrived on site early because I wanted to talk to Antonio. I showed him a rough sketch of the property with all the weak spots in the fencing marked. I told him that there was little point in locking the gates while the fence line was like a sieve. He mumbled something about getting them fixed and I stopped him, mid sentence.

“No, Antonio!” I said firmly. “Give me permission, the tools and the wire. I will do it!” Once again, there was that half amused, half baffled expression that most Spanish men wore when in conversation with me. “You?” He said almost mockingly.

I told him that I was a Greenham Common woman, which meant absolutely nothing to him. I explained how we had bolt cropped the American base chain-link fencing and then sewed it back together with wires covered in rag art to disguise our several secret entrances. His ice blue eyes twinkled. He roared laughing at my story. “Are all English women crazy like you?” to which I shook my head and said, “Some are!”

It was time for him to leave so he reached a quick decision, “Oh go on then!” and gesticulated at the tool shed where I might find the things I needed.

From then on I spent the first hours of each shift slowly working my way around the fences, reconnecting them where they had been cut, presumably by thieves. The nights were drawing in quicker as the weeks raced by. It was getting much colder too.

Usually I would cook a meal at Angel’s house and eat with him before work. He taught me how to make paella, tortilla de patata and hearty stews with garbanzos (chick peas). I taught him how to make Shepherd’s Pie, Chicken Ginger Stew and a proper British breakfast which he loved but said was far too big!

When December arrived it came with a heavy frost and a bitterly chill wind. The condensation would freeze on the ceiling of the van while we slept so I had to get up at 6am, dress quickly and dry the ceiling with a towel as it melted in the heat from my cooker. I considered my super clean shiny ceiling to be compensation for the hard work! Then the dogs and I would run to the main gate to let the workforce in for their shift at 7am. Or I would pack down and drive to the gate, ready to depart and head home to Madrigal for a few hours.

I didn’t visit Avalon very often during that winter. As 2005 rolled in, the weather was surprisingly cold and there were many days when it snowed quite thickly overnight at the gravel pit. Never once did my precious van let me down. It fired up first time, every time and I was so grateful for its reliability.

Among Angel’s neighbours was a large cheerful Chilean family. The two teenage boys would always make a big fuss of Rasta and Ben whenever they saw us in the village. They frequently called for the dogs to play football with them. One day they offered to try to break into the gravel pit to see what would happen. I thought this would be a fun experiment and agreed, but I warned them to be super quiet and to choose a very dark night if they wanted any chance of success.

A couple of nights later, around midnight, Pearlie alerted and triggered the dogs, who immediately stood at the back doors of the van, asking to go out. Silently, they padded off into the darkness and I watched Pearlie listening intently. We didn’t have long to wait. We heard shrieks of laughter and giggles coming from the furthest corner of the compound. I put on my coat and, taking my searchlight, I walked to the perimeter fence. Apparently the boys had not even approached the fence when Rasta and Ben greeted them with wagging tails! They were amazed. I wasn’t.

The only other time that anyone came near to the gravel pit during the night was when the landowner unexpectedly popped by. He waited at the main gate in his limousine and his driver tooted for attention, flashing the car headlights. The dogs and I ran up there and the elderly man introduced himself and asked me to open the gate for him.

Once inside, the limousine drove down the winding slope into the deep pit and the elderly, elegantly dressed man showed a lady companion around the massive machinery. He seemed very proud of his business. Without much more fuss, the limousine purred past my van, disappeared out into the night and I locked up again.

The following payday, at the beginning of March 2005, came with a birthday card and an extra month’s salary in cash from Antonio! It was “for zero losses and fixing the fences!”, he said. But there was also news that my services would no longer be required. A special cabin was to be installed on the expanding site for a professional security company, complete with firearms, to take on the contract. I had worked there for six months and had spent very little of that income. I had sufficient savings to get me through the coming summer.

I headed back to Madrigal happy. Another very unusual job to add to my extremely varied CV! It was nice to be home and able to get on with projects that had been germinating in my imagination.

First on my list was to clean out and paint the swimming pool. No small feat. It was a large rectangular concrete tank which must have been about 8ft wide by 16 feet long. It was 5ft deep. I had to scrub and scrape the old peeling paint which took a long time before I was satisfied with the surfaces. I expected to find cracks and leaks but, surprisingly, there were none. I bought the obligatory special quality blue paint and after two layers it looked terrific.

As soon as it was dried I set up the petrol pump and began to fill it with water from the pond. It took 4 hours to fill and I was dressed in my swimsuit, ready to take my first dip. It was chilly and clean, an exhilarating experience.

Of course, Rasta and Ben were standing on the steps waiting for their opportunity to swim. The pool had a short interior aluminium ladder but that was too upright and not suitable for the dogs to use. I had to be in the pool with them to push them out again. They both accepted this limitation and never got in there without me. Pearlie was not remotely interested in swimming but she did watch!

As the temperatures began to rise I would work in my tatty old swimsuit, cutting the grass, tending the trees and maintaining the irrigation trenches. About once an hour I would swim in the pool to bring my temperature down, it was such a luxury. Once a month I allowed the pool to drain, flooding the land and then after cleaning I refilled it with fresh water. I did not use any chemical additives.

At the weekends I often had visitors. Cecelia came with her new pure white whippet called Amy who flirted with Rasta and Ben but dashed off as soon as they got the slightest sniff of her! She was whirling around the place at such a pace she made us all dizzy watching her.

Pablo, the artist, came by motorbike from Leganes, on the southern outskirts of Madrid. He would draw very unflattering cartoons of us all and then dash off a stunning dark and moody landscape featuring the peaks of Almanzor looming over the village. He was amazingly talented but very self-critical.

Fernando was Pablo’s best friend since schooldays. He had lost his driving licence due to drink/driving at that time, so he would arrive on the bus. Wherever Fernando went there was a party. He was very popular because he had a small bar in Leganes. He had a most unusual speaking voice. Very deep and gravelly. I found him very attractive and he knew it! We would flirt outrageously whenever we could!

Angel would bring his friend Javier to cook for us. They would throw me out of my kitchen and conjure up delicious meals which we would eat at the exterior dining table under the grape vines.

The summer of 2005 was one long happy party to which I would invite Fuego, Hernan and Halid regularly because it was particularly restful for me to have someone to talk to in English occasionally.

Fuego

By the time September came around I was running out of money and had to think seriously about earning a living again. I discussed this with Pablo one evening and he had a brainwave. He said that his parents had provided him with a brand new three-bedroomed luxury apartment in Leganes and he hated being there on his own. He offered me a deal. I could have a room there, provided I took on the housework and brought Rasta, Ben and Pearlie with me! He totally adored them!

I was astounded. There was also a cherry on this highly attractive cake. Pablo’s parents were close friends with the Principal of a nearby private school and, although he could not promise anything, he might be able to get me a job teaching English!

—0—

You can find the previous chapters 1-10 beginning here.

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