A Woman Named Coral. Jane Huxley

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      FOUR

      Of Love and Money

      Aurelio Fernandez-Concha had always been wealthy and his wife, Carlota, was far wealthier than himself.

      “Money attracts money,” she had said to him when he had proposed to her.

      He had replied, “But I love you.”

      “I never said you didn’t,” she had said, with a grin.

      There was nothing beautiful about Carlota except her eyes, which were dark and vivacious. Her nose was too long, her mouth too small, her body too scrawny, her legs too fat.

      She had shocked Aurelio when, early in their honeymoon, she had appeared on the terrace of their Acapulco hotel, standing naked under bushes of bougainvillae and said, “One vagina is like any other.”

      Their son, Silvio, had been born nine months after this pronouncement and Carlota had turned out to be a devoted mother.

      Twenty years into the marriage, disaster had struck in the form of Carlota’s diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. Aurelio had consulted specialists from Buenos Aires, Rio and as far away as New York, but the prognosis was grim. “Six months, if she’s lucky,” the physicians had told them.

      Carlota had been philosophical about her fate. “Nothing lasts forever,” she had told Aurelio. “It is evident to me that my time on this earth is almost over.”

      “I’m not giving up,” Aurelio had said.

      But it was obvious to Carlota that her prospect was grim.

      “Nonsense, Aurelio,” she had told him, and added, with an odd little laugh, “We will meet again up there, beyond those clouds.”

      After the death of Carlota, Aurelio had come to the conclusion that the sentimental aspect of his life was over. As lamentable as this omission might be, the thought of pursuing sexual satisfaction seemed an intolerable burden, one which he was willing to forsake.

      I’m sixty-five years old, he said to himself. Good riddance to all that rubbish.

      But one day, as he wandered into his office, his secretary announced that an Indian delegation from Ancash was waiting for him in the conference room.

      “Good God, Prunella,” he said. “Why didn’t you get rid of them?”

      “They’re Indians,” Prunella said, scornfully. “I dare anyone to snub them.”

      “What do they want?”

      “Money to build a school.”

      “My money?”

      “If not yours, then King Solomon’s.”

      Aurelio had walked into the conference room looking at his watch and saying, “I have two minutes to hear what you have to say.”

      When he looked up, what he saw took his breath away.

      The Indian delegation consisted of three people. Two men, their skin the colour of bronze and their hair and eyes blacker than coal. The third person was a beautiful young woman. She was white, with long blond hair and eyes the colour of sapphires.

      “You are an Indian?” he asked, astonished.

      “Yes,” she said. “My name is Yupanqui.”

      He handed the delegation a cheque so enormous they made him Honorary Chairman of the school that would be built some day. Two weeks later he asked Miss Yupanqui, whose name was Coral, to marry him.

      “Why?” she asked.

      “Because I’m in love with you,” he answered.

      She seemed perplexed and said she would think about it. A thrill passed through Aurelio. She hadn’t turned him down. He waited in silence for her answer to be delivered.

      “Think she’ll marry me?” he asked Prunella.

      “Why wouldn’t she?” she said.

      “Because she’s young and beautiful.”

      “And you’re old and rich. Strikes me as a fair exchange.”

      Prunella’s assumption proved correct. Yes, Coral would marry him. Her only request was that her parents visit every Christmas.

      “Of course,” he said. “They can stay at the guest cottage in the woods.”

      The brief ceremony at the Cathedral was attended by the bride and groom, the Yupanquis, Aurelio’s son, Silvio and his new wife, Pandora.

      “Disgusting, at his age,” Pandora said.

      “Can’t say I blame him,” he answered. “She’s very beautiful.”

      “Your mother would not be pleased.”

      “You can see that he’s crazy about her.”

      “Can’t see anything except an old man making a fool of himself.”

      Aurelio had chosen Rio de Janeiro for their honeymoon, and Coral seemed a bit startled by the sprawling chaotic bustle of the city.

      “Like it?” he asked her.

      “Well, it is... big,” she answered.