Devil’s Cacti (Part 1 of 3)

The Devil’s Cacti

This is a fictional biography of a research student who, through the course of his research work on poisonous cacti in Mexico, discovers the elixir of food flavouring and addiction. The sting in the tail was that he had to handle the life-threatening cactus plants to extract the liquor. With his Mexican wife, he departed for the Alpujarras in Spain to set up a cactus farm to continue his research. His businessman brother took on the idea and developed the whole thing into a successful restaurant business with various other offshoots.

Chapter 1

First day at work and I was late. Sod’s Law prevailed to prevent my ancient Cinquecento from starting. Flat battery caused by the door being left slightly open and the courtesy light being on. Why the hell had the designers put a courtesy light on such a cheap, nasty car in the first place, beggars belief but there I was stranded in a cul-de-sac, at the bottom of the hill, six thirty in the morning and nobody up and about to give me a push. Nothing for it but to push the damn thing myself to the top of the rise and jump start it down the hill. Fortunately it was a light car, probably made of cardboard and polystyrene so progress was relatively easy but even so my crisp white shirt was already stained with grime and sweat. I would have to refrain from taking my jacket off. The rest of the journey was compensated by being smooth as pie with little or no traffic and none of the usual snarl ups encountered on this road. I would have time to clean up a little and make myself more presentable. I arrived at the huge complex as the gatekeeper was opening the gates. The first thought was he was just opening them for me since I was the last one in but I soon realised the car park was empty and I was in fact the first arrival. Parking the car in a visitor’s space, I bounded up to reception to be greeted by a cleaner pushing a large vacuum cleaner.

“You’re early dear. Couldn’t sleep?” she said cheerily.

“Where is the receptionist?” I asked looking around the cavernous hall.

“Not here for another half hour lovely,” she chirped, switching off her noisy machine and giving me all her attention. She suddenly burst out into a laugh and added, “Caught you out too then love?” and noticing a puzzled look on my face added, “Clocks changed on Sunday deary but yours didn’t, did it?”

“Thanks,” I said thumping my forehead with the palm of my hand in disgust. “That’s why the traffic was light. Is there a large supermarket open near here? Need to get a clean shirt. Had car trouble this morning!”

“Eeye you look as if you’ve been in the wars lovey. Just down the road off the bypass and get yer sen some breakfast to perk yer up.”

With a ‘thanks’ I was out like a shot. A quick wave to a bemused gatekeeper I was at the supermarket, on the front rank, in minutes. Bought a pack of three shirts and found the toilets to clean up and change. In a far more presentable manner, I found my way to the café by the smell of frying bacon and ordered the ‘Full English’ with all trimmings, a large mug of coffee and grabbed a free newspaper. This felt much better until I stabbed the fat sausage and it squirted me with a stream of hot fat, straight down my new shirt and tie. My luck was against me today and it was relentless. At least I had a spare shirt to go at. So two down and one to go! Finished the breakfast with no more mishaps and disappeared into the toilets again for a quick change and wash. Nipped back into the shopping area and bought a pack of three ties. The Supermarket obviously catered for ignoramuses like me by selling clothing in threes just in case. Sod’s Law came into play again when I joined the short queue manned by a trainee who then got the till roll stuck and his supervisor was miles away. I checked all the clocks available to verify the time and assured myself that all was still well.

The Complex was only a few minutes away as I jumped into my car, which thankfully started immediately and all looked rosy until I joined the queue of traffic leaving the car park. I realised I had to turn right against the stream of oncoming cars and no one was going to give way to an ancient Cinquecento. I had to resort to the brute force approach of forcing my way in front of and expensive new ‘Beamer’ amid much honking and fist waving. No self-respecting driver was going to risk his beloved machine against a lowly rust bucket like mine. A quick smile to the angry driver and I was off until the next junction and then again my luck ran out. The traffic lights were stuck at red and a useless policeman was directing the traffic against me. I even took down the St. Christopher medal hanging from the rear view mirror, gave it a polish and a kiss with a silent prayer to hurry the idiot along but to no avail. I suddenly realised my predicament, that again, I would be late on my first day at work.

I drove through the gates and spotted an empty space and headed straight for it. Jumped out of the car, just ensuring that the door was firmly slammed to prevent the curtsey light from plaguing me again and rushed to the reception to see the notice clearly displayed for the new comers. I was just about to rush off in the direction of the arrow when I was confronted by a burly man in uniform.

“You need to go and see reception and get an ID and joining instruction Sir!” he uttered directing my in the opposite direction. I’m sure I detected that there was more to his uttering of ‘Sir’ than was needed. I meekly joined the queue and a pleasant receptionist spent at least five minutes explaining the entry system and all the ‘no go’ areas and only at the end noted my frustration adding that my meeting was running late so not to worry. Having realised that I hadn’t taken in all that she had said, she kindly repeated the information, stressing the ‘No Go’ areas and lifts plus the right way of inserting the ID card to let me through to my meeting. I thanked her profusely adding as a weak excuse that it hadn’t been one of my best days and that I wasn’t normally so stupid. She smiled and escorted me to the bank of lifts, inserting my ID correctly in the slot and pushing the correct floor button for me. With a smile and a ‘Have a good day” she disappeared behind the closing doors. The ride up to the seventh floor gave me time to adjust myself and tidy up. At least I looked presentable and still had my laptop case with me, holding all my office materials and joining instructions.

With a loud ping the lift ejected me out onto the seventh floor into the arms of an efficient secretary who grabbed me by the arm and ushered me along the corridor. “Welcome to AJC Mr. Bellman,” reading my lapel badge. The meeting is running a little late. Miss Delores has been delayed so the meeting start time has been put back to eight thirty. Do have a coffee and meet your new colleagues,” as I was propelled through the door into a large meeting room where about a dozen people were crowding around the coffee table. “This is Mr Bellman, please make him welcome. It’s his first day with us.” With that she was off and I tentatively walked over to join the others who immediately eyed me up and down as if I was the competition. I declined a coffee for safety reasons. I had too many mishaps today and coffee all down my shirt would be just too much to bear. I went round introducing myself and trying the memory trick of remembering the names by association and repeating the name as often as possible. Some were old hands and others like me new entrants.

Half way through the introductions a woman and the gateman burst into the room and the woman demanded to know who the owner was of a dilapidated rusty red Cinquecento. I raised my arm in embarrassment and the woman disappeared leaving the gateman to come over beckoning to me telling me I had parked in the wrong space and could I kindly move my car elsewhere. He escorted me down to my rust bucket and directed me to a piece of waste ground used as an overflow car park. Now I was really late but I was determined to stay cool. I walked rather than running back to the reception to stay cool and engaged the delectable receptionist to walk me to the lift and send me on the correct way. Fortune had allowed me to keep my ID on me so no more embarrassment. The secretary was in the meeting room when I arrived and she directed me to a place near the back which was quite lucky since I could survey the others at will or so I thought. The door opened and a stern looking woman, dressed in severe black strode in purposefully, placing her briefcase firmly onto the desk and faced her audience. She introduced herself as Doctor Delores, head of this department as my face distorted to shock and horror. I had just gone and parked my heap in her private parking slot. What else could go wrong? I was about to find out later.

The meeting started with the usual introductions to the functions of Doctor Delores, her section leaders and then the new boys of which we were seven, had to stand and introduce ourselves as usual. I was determined to stand my ground and own up and apologise for my misdemeanour. I didn’t do too much of a bad job and got a smile from most but a thunderous glare from the Doctor. My card was marked. Doctor Delores then issued the research projects that we were to work on. There was no choice as I hoped and I saw most of my compatriots wince at what they had been offered. I was left to the last as I noticed a cruel smile appear on her face as I was handed the folder entitled ‘Aloe Vera.’ I tried a smile but realised it was more of a grimace. I had certainly drawn the short straw and my chances of doing a PhD had been truly scuppered. There must be ten skips of written material out there on Aloe Vera and to find anything worthwhile and innovative would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. The section leader at least gave me a pat in commiseration as Doctor Delores swanned out of the room allowing each of us to groan in our own way.

   Head down and nose to the grindstone was my motto and on no account to raise ones head above the parapet. Even my section leader became impressed by my dedication and generally left me to my own devices, which was a God-send since I could hide in my pod and call up the relevant papers on the screen to peruse and discard. At the end of the first week I had built up a very clear picture of what Aloe Vera was about which amounted to very few pages and had discarded many skips full of sheer dirge. There was nothing new to be got out of this field of research. I decided to concentrate on the commercial growth and extraction of the beneficial elements that Aloe Vera was supposed to possess and came to a simple conclusion that the artificial products produced in a chemical factory down the road were probably just as effective and cost considerably less to manufacture although there seemed to be an increasing following from the Mrs. Consumer for the real organic thing. 

The problem here for me to consider was what was the real purpose of Miss Doctor Delores in giving me this research project with absolutely no terms of reference to guide me. Was it to test my mettle or to check how quickly I came to a decision that this was a dead end subject and raise the white flag? I decided to test the water and write an interim report which pointed out that any further research into the properties of Aloe Vera were unnecessary but the commercial cultivation could do with further attention particularly since the consumption of the real thing was up and up. The second part was mainly on the correct cultivation and harvesting for maximum cropping at minimum cost. I let my section supervisor have a copy and switched my attention to pursuing the nice receptionist who I met on the first day. It became a serious challenge each day to get her to show me again how to use my ID card and which bank of lifts to use. My plea that she should come up to the correct floor with me to ensure that her training of me was successful, seem to fall on deaf ears. I think she saw through my ploy but nevertheless I didn’t give up.

One morning, arriving at my pod after another unsuccessful sortie on the delightful receptionist Helen, I found a note from my section leader summoning me to the next floor for a meeting with Doctor Dragon as she was nicknamed. After a phase of hot and cold flushes subsided and a quick mental check of what further misdemeanours I may have committed I picked the phone and spoke to her secretary trying to glean what the dragon demanded. She wanted me straight away with notepad and diary. Quick trip to the toilet to check my appearance, I picked up my notepad and diary and headed for the bank of lifts. I had never been higher than the seventh floor so this was to be a new experience. The lift doors slid apart and I stepped into a lobby of plush carpet and pushed my ID card into the slot and punched in the requested security information.

I hear a click from the adjoining door and pushed it open gingerly expecting and visualising being enveloped and consumed in flames at any moment. Her secretary was waiting for me and ushered me into her domain. Doctor Dragon Delores welcomed me in with a pleasant smile and handshake, asking if I wanted coffee. I declined in an effort to reduce any mishaps as she steered me to some comfortable easy chairs around an unusual coffee table made out of what I could recognise as olive wood.

I sat on the edge of the seat wondering if this was a prelude of ‘Thank you but we don’t need your services any more,’ when she came and sat in a chair alongside with a mug of coffee and a copy of my report.

“I’m glad you’re not wasting any more time on this dead end subject,” she uttered pointing to the report. I just smiled and nodded in agreement. “Trouble is you’ve written something on the subject which is of interest to us.” She thumbed through the report and opened it at the section on cultivation. “What experience have you got on cultivation?” she asked turning over to the pages which had been heavily highlighted in Orange.

“Part of my BioChem Degree course was spent in the greenhouses, studying commercial cultivation and plant nutrients. I also worked on Grandfather’s farm in Spain during the holidays, if that counts?”

“Good. I see you got a First so you are no fool.” Thanks, I muttered to myself silently. “Have you got an up to date passport and what languages do you speak?”

“Err, passport renewed last year and French to GCSE level and a smattering of Spanish. Grandparents have got a place in the sun in Spain and I go there to help them out when they need things doing like gardening or painting.”

“That’s interesting. Spanish, yes, interesting,” she muttered absently to herself as she thumbed through her diary. “Right, I’m going to send you to Mexico for a spell. We have an Aloe Vera farm over there and they are having some production problems. I suspect it’s to do with water or nutrients. You have got three weeks to brush up on cultivation of Aloe Vera and you will be out there for two months initially. Not a problem is it?”

“Ergh, No. Don’t see any problems with that.”

“Good. Sally! Sally, take Mr. Bellman and give him the file and details. I can call you Paul?”

“Please do,” I muttered as Sally the secretary to the dragon expertly whisked me away to the outer office which was stacked with paper and documents. I was getting my marching orders and I didn’t know if to be pleased or happy, although I was deeply suspicious that I was being set up, especially when my section leader offered me his deepest commiserations. At least I would escape the English winter and for the first time I had what I considered a generous expense account. Money was short and I gave notice on my flat and lent my scrap heap on wheels to my friend for his children to use or misuse at will.

The three weeks passed in a flash as I accumulated information on plant nutrition and testing procedures on cacti. Even the pretty receptionist Helen, had to remind me that she needed to show me how to use the lifts as I was so engrossed in the planning and ensuring that the right testing equipment was in place in Mexico. Mother sent me a Spanish phrase book and dear old Granddad sent me a pair of extra strong gardening gloves which proved in the long run to be the most useful item I had packed into a rucksack.

Chapter 2

I flew into Mexico City on Iberia via Madrid, travelling in luxury in Business Class, lots of legroom and as much beer as one could consume. I was suddenly brought back down to earth when I had to fight my way to the train station, buy a ticket to a Northern town, find the correct platform and find a seat on the crowded train. It was a good job I had the foresight to purchase two litres of water in small bottles at the airport, since I felt vulnerable and expecting any minute for my rucksack and possessions to be stolen. The train was extremely slow and I slept most of the way. In fact missed my stop at Saltillo and ended up at Monterry. In my broken Spanish I managed to glean from the Conductor that I had been mad to take the train and should have flown but at least he didn’t charge me for the extra mileage on the journey. For my own safety sake, I took a coach to Monclova where I had to switch to a rickety bus which finally took me to a clump of dishevelled houses. Fortunately there was a small bar and I managed to get a beer and filled tortilla which was like leather, drowned in a hot green sauce whilst I waited for my lift to the farm where I was expected. I amused myself by playing OXO with two boys in the dust on table. The gringo lost every time to the amusement and pleasure of the two kids and a number of onlookers.

Eventually a shout brought the game to an end as a dust cloud was spotted on the horizon. I grabbed my rucksack and went out into the bright sunshine to await my next form of transport. The landlady saved me from a long wait by dragging me back into the bar telling me that the driver would need a rest before transporting me back. I was glad to get back into the shade, out of the searing sun. The jeep arrived in a cloud of dust and the driver dusted himself down and washed down in the horse trough at the roadside before coming in and introducing himself to me. Pablo then tucked into a plateful of burritos, salsa and a pot of refried beans on the side, washed down with a couple of bottles of Modelo beer. I sat there observing Pablo as he ate his food as if it was his last meal. He was a short stocky man with a distinct rugged Mexican face. His clothes of tan shirt and trousers were in good condition compared to those of the locals, even though they were caked in dust. It was two hours before we departed and I was woken up by the two boys, having fallen asleep at the table. My rucksack was already stowed in the back of the jeep and it seemed churlish to check the contents. The whole village turned out to see us off, waving and shouting. The boys and dogs ran alongside the jeep as it slowly pulled away in a cloud of dust.

 When we were about five minutes away from the village I suddenly remembered that that I hadn’t paid for my food and drink. The driver assured me that that was normal and I would pay during my next visit whenever that might be. He also said he waited until the sun had lost its strength and it would be cooler for the return journey. It was a bone shaking ride and I had to hang on with both hands as the jeep bucked and dived over the ruts and hillocks. By the time we had arrived at the farm it was dark, cool and I was covered in a thick layer of dust.

The jeep pulled up at a small cabin and Pablo helped me out and half carried me to a bench under an awning of a veranda. A small light bulb lit up the outside of the place. He brought over the rucksack and dusted it down while I allowed my limbs to settle back to normal. He informed me that the boss would see me in the morning and I was to rest. I dragged myself through the door into the cabin and found the light switch. It was quite roomy with a bed covered by a mosquito net in one corner, a table and some chairs in another and an alcove which was the bathroom. I dumped the rucksack at the side of the door and took stock of my surroundings. It was clean and comfortable and I was dirty and tired. I decided I needed a shower first so stripped off at the door leaving my clothes in a heap and tip toed to the bathroom trying not to leave too much dust on the clean tiled floor. The shower was wonderful, cool and refreshing and I stood there massaging my limbs and getting life back into the body. Turning off the shower I wondering if there was a towel or did I have to rake into my rucksack. Pushing back the curtain I saw a chair had been placed conveniently with a towel neatly folded over the back. I was sure I hadn’t noticed it before but was grateful for the forethought. Towelling myself dry, wrapping the towel around my middle I walked over to find my rucksack and get some clean clothes.

 The rucksack had disappeared so I looked into a large wardrobe set in a recess and found all my belongings all set out neatly on the shelves, including the contents of my pockets of the clothes that I had dumped at the door but not the clothing. I looked about for the water bottles remembering that I had finished all the water but couldn’t see them anywhere. I was thirsty and wasn’t sure I should drink the water out of the tap. I then noticed that the table had been pulled out and two plates with covers and two jugs stood invitingly on it. 

Paddling across on the bare cool tiles I found a jug of water and a jug of red wine. I emptied the jug of water in almost one long draught. Lifting the lids off the plates on the table I found a bowl of what looked like tomato soup or gazpacho and the second plate was covered with tortillas, cheese, chopped salad, pot of spicy salsa and some cured meat. I suddenly felt hungry and sat down and downed the cold gazpacho with a few tortillas which weren’t like leather this time. The cheese, meat and tomato followed in the same way, washed down with chilled red wine. I shouted a ‘Gracia’ into the air for my benefactor and paddled over to the bed, crawling under the mosquito net and flopped down. It was heaven.

I don’t remember anything after that until a hand shook my leg and a stream of sunshine broke into the room as the shutters were opened. My eyes opened with difficulty and I felt them full of dust and sleep. I was still in the flopped down position as I had launched myself the previous night. I rubbed my eyes to get some life back into them when I heard a ‘Buenos Dias Senior Paulo,’ as the door slammed shut. I found myself covered with a sheet and the towel of the previous night had mysteriously disappeared. Pushing away the netting, I stood up and felt much better then decided a cool shower would improve things even more. I took a container of shower gel and padded off to the bathroom noticing that another clean towel had been placed on the chair. I think I managed to get most of the dust out of my hair, ears and nostrils, but it took a lot of work to clear it all out. Wrapped in a towel I sauntered over to the window to take a look at my surroundings when my attention was caught by the aroma of coffee and fresh bread. Bugger the window I thought, that all can come later and I sat down and tucked into a jug of coffee and freshly baked bread. This was heavenly room service that I had not experienced before, well if you don’t count Grandma who spoilt her grandsons something rotten.

Chapter 3

Putting on some clean clothes and my bush boots brought here all the way from Spain I looked around for my hat when I realised I should be interested in the time. Finding my watch on a shelf in the cupboard I saw the time was noon but wasn’t sure if I had corrected it for local time. I knew the answer when there was a knock on the door with a cheery ‘Buenos Tardes, Senior Paulo’ as a buxom woman, dressed in black, came in carrying my clean and folded clothes from the previous day which she promptly placed carefully in the large wardrobe. “Que tal Senior Paulo?”

 “Muy bien gracias, et tu?” as I stood up sheepishly. Fortunately, I had remembered the basic Spanish greetings and felt somewhat relieved. At that moment another younger and taller Mexican woman pushed through the door wearing horse riding gear.

“Oh good, you’re up at last,” she said as I detected a strong element of sarcasm.

“Erh, sorry. I was totally bushed last night after thirty-six hours of non-stop travel. The last roller coaster in the jeep did me in.”

“I’m Carmella Montoya,” she said rather brusquely, offering her hand.

“Paul Bellman, pleased to meet you,” I replied shaking a firm, strong grip.

“This is Anita and she has been assigned to look after you whilst you’re here.”

“Holà Anita. Gracia por la gazpacho. Muy sabrosso,” I said putting on my most gracious smile and getting a broad smile of appreciation and even a curtsy in return.

“Sorry about the jeep ride last night. Pablo gave you a rough ride. He is suspicious of new comers and took the rough back road to frighten you off if possible. These people are concerned that you have come here to close the place down and this work here has been a God send to them,” said Carmella sharply. I detected more than a question of suspicion in her tone. She continued, “Why are you here Mr. Bellman?”

“Please call me Paul or Paulo as they do in Spain. I thought you would tell me why I’m here. I’m only a Graduate Trainee and as far as I know my function is to learn and help you as far as I can,” I replied becoming defensive against the direct attack and had an opportunity to observe her more thoroughly. She was tall, definitely Mexican with an oval face, dark skin and jet black hair tied back severely. A much prettier version of Dragon Delores I concluded.  

“That’s not the impression I got from your Director Delores. She told me she sent you over to put the world to rights over here and I was to assist you in doing that.”

“I’m sorry but that was not the impression I was under. Dragon Delores and I are at odds with each other and I suspect she sent me off to purgatory and as far away from her as possible. I’m here to help and learn not to be a hindrance.” 

“Your Emails and demands were rather specific, as if you were about to take over,” she continued in an aggressive tone that made her lovely brown eyes appear even larger.

“Sorry if that was the impression I gave but the information on this place was very sketchy and I was asked to check specifically on water and plant nutrition. So that’s why I requested the testing equipment specifically, otherwise I would have sourced it back home.”

“What do you know about Aloe Vera and its commercial cultivation?” she continued the attack.

“In practical terms not a lot but for the past two months I’ve read and studied all the worthwhile papers on the subject and the major element of my degree course was on plant nutrition, if that counts for anything.” She still had the aggressive demeanour but had decided that was enough of the third degree for the moment.

“It’s midday now and too hot to work. Lunch is served in the main building at three if you would like to join us there or would you like Anita to bring something over for you?”

“Please, I would like to join you and be introduced to the rest of your team.”

“Good, I’ll send Pablo over to fetch you at three.” With that curt reply she spun around on her heels and was away, leaving me with a smiling Anita.

 I scratched my head and wondered why the aggressive welcome. These people must be worried by something and I may look like the final nail in the coffin to them. I then noticed Anita looking at me smiling and gesturing that she wanted to clean up. I nodded and gestured that I would go out on the veranda and work. Taking out the small table, chair I found a shady spot with maximum breeze. I then took out my laptop and papers and tried to assemble my thoughts, with going through my latest notes, bearing in mind what had been intimated in my grilling from Carmella Montoya.

 I became quite absorbed in my thoughts and notes that I didn’t notice the audience of three small boys sitting on the ground, a respectful distance away, with their eyes on me. I looked at them and smiled and beckoned them to come out of the full sunshine and sit on the bench in the shade of the veranda. They jumped at the invitation and positioned the bench so that they each had a full view of me and continued staring. I had experienced this before in the Sahara desert when a crowd of children suddenly appeared as we, a group of students then, examined the fauna and flora of a patch of sand, on one of the University field trips. They had sat there immobile for hours until we broke up for a break and tried to entice them to play football with us. They just watched our antics with fixed faces and stares for hours. Our guide told us they had come from a nomadic encampment some five kilometres away.

I was so engrossed in my notes that I didn’t notice Pablo, my jeep driver, standing before me waiting for me to come for lunch. A quiet cough alerted me and I smiled at him as I closed down my computer and put it plus my papers in the case. “Uno minuto Pablo,” I said to him and quickly nipped into the cabin and placed may case in the wardrobe. The place was immaculately clean with a fresh clean towel on the chair outside the bathroom. Anita had gone. As I stepped out into the bright sunshine Pablo pointed to his hat and mouthed ‘Sombrero’ so I nipped back and found my scruffy hat on the hat rack next to the door, placed there by thoughtful Anita. The heat hit me like a stone as I stepped out from the protection of the veranda and was thankful for the hat and noted I would have to get a bigger straw one, like Pablo’s, for better protection. It reminded me of the miniature ten gallon cowboy hat that my Dad had brought me from a States side visit in my childhood. It was my proudest possession but in the English countryside it proved more effective as a rain stopper than a sun shade.

Chapter 4

Pablo led me over to the main building which was a more substantial structure and ushered me across a broad veranda and through swing doors into a large room. The sudden switch from bright sunshine to dimness left me momentarily blind. A few blinks brought a table into vision, set with five chairs, two empty and the others occupied by Carmella and two burly Mexicans. Carmella waved us over and made the introductions. Pablo I had already met, and then there was Eduardo, another stocky Mexican with an angular Indian face who looked after the processing plant and Paco who looked after the field workers. Paco was tall and gaunt but had the same facial features of Pablo and Eduardo. Carmella ushered us to sit and immediately two Mexican women brought in a large earthenware bowl of cold soup, a wooden board of bread and a wooden board with many small dishes to accompany the soup. I made a silent prayer to Grandma who introduced me to the Spanish style of eating so I was at home here with the fare.

 For the second course a big serving bowl was pushed towards me I felt as a test and I immediately took the ladle and offered to serve Carmella first and then the others. That went down well. I took a small dish of chilli peppers and scattered some onto my Mexican soup to the accompaniment of raised eyebrows. As I suspected they would be extremely hot. Little did they know I shared a flat with a Mexican student in Sheffield and we each tried to outdo each other in the heat of the chilli-con-carne on his part and my version in Indian Vindaloo. I remembered the early tears and painful loo experiences until we got the measure of each other; another useful bit of ex curricula University education for the outside world. The stew was delicious but the attack on me was vitriolic. They all spoke English well and obviously all well-educated but the grilling I got left me dazed. They were certainly concerned about their future and I was a threat to that. No amount of defence on my part seemed to placate them and I was having a hard time convincing them I was only there to learn and help if I could.

The next test came with the main course of a huge bowl of chilli-con-carne, the type served in Northern parts of Mexico accompanied by a bowl of hot crushed chillies and board of tortillas. Carmella chose to serve and gave me a generous portion in a bowl already half filled. I could detect by the smell that this was going to blow my head off but I was sure I could hack it. They were somewhat hesitant at starting and Eduardo suggested I start before it got cold. In for a penny in for a pound I thought and took a generous forkful. It certainly had a kick but also a wonderful flavour of fresh spices that we couldn’t quite achieve in Sheffield. I waved to the serving ladies and shouted ‘Muy sabrroso’ and got a smile and titter in reply. The other four watched me take another mouthful before they took up their forks and delayed their start by playing with their tortillas. The second mouthful was certainly hotter but by now I had the measure of it and shocked the others by reaching over to a bowl and scattering a generous portion of hot dry chillies onto my dish. They started to eat slowly and at least the tirade of questions against me had stopped.

 Mischievously I decided to get my own back on Pablo by offering him the bowl of dried chillies to sprinkle on his plate. He took a spoonful and was about to shake some off when he notice me watching and with a flourish he sprinkled the lot over his chilli. I smiled and nodded an acknowledgement and proceeded to sprinkle some more over my plate, offering again the bowl to Pablo. Well he couldn’t refuse and let the side down so again with a flourish he heaped a spoon and spread the contents evenly over his food. The others watched the contest. Even the two serving ladies had moved over to watch. A few forks-full later I reached over and took another spoonful and offered the bowl to Pablo who now knew he was now in a full blown contest and took the bait. With a flourish he sprinkled two, yes two heaped spoons over his food and waded in. He stopped and pushed the bowl over to me but I declined, excusing myself as a mere Englishman I was unused to the hot food and I didn’t want to spoil the flavour. Pablo was now struggling with sweat pouring down his face and the forks-full were getting smaller and at greater intervals. I just ploughed on and ladled a second portion of chilli on my plate and offered Pablo the dish of crushed chillies. That was the last straw and Pablo suddenly rose, knocking his chair flying and rushed out of the room. Carmella, Paco and Eduardo stood up and applauded the efforts of my contest.

“Where did your learn to eat hot chilli?” asked Carmella.

“Miss-spent youth at Uni. I’m afraid,” I answered as they sat down and finished off the meal with some small talk.  

Chapter 5

I discovered that the farm was run by the four at the table plus numerous part timers from the village as required. This allowed the villagers to carry on with their farming activities and their income was supplemented by their paid labour on the Aloe Vera farm. This seemed to me a fair economic balance and at least if the commercial activity failed the locals could fall back onto their old farming ways. 

“Do you ride?” asked Carmella in a rather too authoritative voice.

“Err no,” I replied and continued, “I’ve done some pony trekking in the past but not on a regular basis, sorry.”

“We normally do our rounds of the estate on horseback since it saves on fuel. Our budget here is quite small you know.” Another reference to the uncertainty and fragility of the system I thought. “We’ll take the jeep then and I’ll show you around the place. You should put on a long sleeved shirt if I were you. The sun is fierce out there. You do have long sleeved shirts, don’t you?” she asked rather scathingly I thought.

“I’ll get my things and meet you here, shall I?” I asked trying to keep a calm tone. These attacks on me were getting me down as I rushed off without waiting for a reply. In the cabin I came across Anita laying out my clothes in the wardrobe and rearranging my bits and pieces. She held up an Iberian flight vanity bag which I picked up as a freebee. She looked quizzical and pointed to my toilet bag as if why I should need two. I picked up the freebee and zipped it open and spilled out the contents on the table to show her. She seemed amused by the miniature toothpaste and the sewing kit. I scooped everything back in and offered it to her saying I didn’t need it. She was a little embarrassed but seemed to take it gratefully. I even got a curtsey. After picking up my small bag of gear and remembering to slip on a long sleeved shirt I was about to dash out when Anita called me back.

“Sombrero Senior, sombrero!”

“Gracia Anita!” as I swung back, plonked my hat on my head and gave her a mock salute. I then though I should ask her about a bigger hat so I pointed to my head and said “Sombrero, grande por favour?” she nodded, smiled in acknowledgement and shooed me on my way with her broom. I met Carmella at the main building and hopped into the jeep beside her, clutching my bag in one hand and the support with the other.

“You don’t need to do that,” she said mockingly. “We drive slowly around here so that we don’t raise the dust too much. I’ll show you the fields first and then we’ll drive back through the village so you can get your bearings.” We drove on in silence along a well-made track, not the rutted and washboard road that Pablo brought me on last night. I smiled to myself and hoped that the effects of the extra dose of chillies weren’t too severe on him. Over the brow of a hill a huge expanse of green greeted us, as far as the eye could see.

“Wow!” I exclaimed in genuine amazement. “It’s huge. I didn’t expect anything as large as this.”

“It’s a Commercial venture you know!” came the curt reply as we drove down to the vast expanse of Aloe Vera fields. As we got closer to the plants, I noticed that the verdant green was not so verdant as I had expected. Lot of the spiky leaves were going yellow and lots of black spots on the leaves. I didn’t make any remarks on my observations but took out my camera and started snapping the scene in front of me.

“A photographer, are you?” she asked rather brusquely.

“Well no, just for my own recording purposes,” I replied defensively as we drove back up the hill again to a rough cabin with lots of black plastic pipes leading from it to the fields.

“This is our pumping station that brings water up from the borehole. It’s operated by a generator that works at night. It also provides us with our electricity which is only available in the evening and night for about four hours,” she said in a matter of fact way.

“I’ll have to remember to charge up my laptop in the evenings. Can I take some sample here?”

“Be my guest,” she replied. “I shall be over there checking on the workers harvesting. See you when you are ready.” With that she drove off leaving me in a cloud of dust. Mr. Popularity, Numero Uno, I thought to myself as I dusted myself down. The building was more substantial than I first though and I checked in the dim interior to find a large generator and an oil tank for the fuel. I looked around and found a tap which I hoped would be water and took a sample. Fortunately there was enough residual water in the pipes to fill my sample bottle. I then went outside looking for the ‘deposito,’ the water tank and saw it perched up on a hillock. It was hot climbing up there and finding a way of getting a water sample proved difficult. I had to resort to following a plastic pipe down the hill until I came to a leaky joint to get enough drips to fill a second bottle, silently thanking Granddad in Spain who always had me walking the pipeline to check for leaks in his irrigation system. At least I knew where to look and how to handle plastic joints which would also prove useful here I presumed.

I must have been quite a time because I saw Carmella waving to me to come over. Waving back in acknowledgement, I made my way to her through the field. Every now and then I took a soil sample in a plastic bags and in some places dug deeper to get soil from as close to the roots as possible.

“What kept you?” was the greeting I received. I ignored it. I knew enough about hot countries not to hurry but keep an even pace to reduce sweating and getting dehydrated. My experience in the Sahara, Namibia and Spain served me well. I climbed into the jeep and we were off. “I’ll show you the processing plant. Not much to see. The harvested leaves are crushed and the liquid is sieved and put into plastic containers and shipped to Monterry for final processing.” We arrived at the plant which was what I would call just an open barn. The large roof was there to protect against the strong sun and I watched men fork green leaves into a large hopper which fed a mill powered by a smoky diesel engine. Juice came out of one pipe straight into large plastic containers and the waste carried away on a slatted elevator which spilled out onto a heap. We didn’t even get out of the jeep. As Carmella had indicated, there wasn’t much to see and we drove on.

“What do you do with the waste?” I asked remembering some element in my readings.

“Nothing. The goats eat some, birds take some away to make nests and the rest seems to rot down to virtually nothing. I’ll show you the village now.” As we drove off in a cloud of dust. On the way, we passed lots of smaller patches of Aloe Vera, obviously tended and before I could pose a question I got my answer. “The locals tend these and we buy it from them. We set a maximum limit on each farmer so that they don’t become totally dependent on the income from us. As you probably realise they are already quite dependant on the Company but we make sure we share the work out equally amongst them all. Compared to other villages this one would be counted as quite prosperous. Here we are the village. It’s courtesy and proper to call in on everybody to say hello so we’ll stop in the centre.” With that Carmella slowed down to reduce the dust cloud and we came to a halt by the village well. Some women were drawing water in plastic buckets and Carmella took me over to meet them and say ‘Hola.’ I looked down the well and saw it was quite deep. Carmella obviously read my thoughts and provided me with the answers.

 “This is the main village water supply. It’s used to feed the animals, water their Aloe Vera plots and for home use. We could put in a pump for them but they would then use too much water and the well would dry up. It does dry up at times anyway and then they come to us for their water.”

“I presume we have a different source?” I asked.

“We pump ours from a much greater depth. This well is much shallower and dries up occasionally.” I picked up a bucket attached to the long rope and dropped it into the well and allowed the rope to slither through my hands until I felt the bucket hit the water. I then gave the rope a yank and pulled it slowly up, hand over hand. I hoped I had managed to fill the bucket since it’s a bit of an art to get the bucket to fill rather than just floating on the top. It felt heavy so I thought I had been successful but I couldn’t quite fathom the weight of the rope. The women were quite impressed by my efforts as I pulled up a three quarters full bucket of water and got a round of applause.

 “You’ve done this before?” was the curt statement rather than question from Carmella.

“I spent some time well digging wells in Namibia so yes I did get plenty of practice,” I answered and shared out the water amongst the women’s buckets and containers. The last cup full I saved and filled up a sample jar. I then went over to the adjoining animal trough and scooped a second sample from the mucky water there, watched intently by the women.

“What’s that for?” questioned Carmella, back on the attacking mode.

“Just testing the supplies around here, that’s all. I might as well make myself useful here. It’s the least I can do,” I replied defensively.

“Is this what you did in Namibia?” asked Carmella in a more deferential tone.

“Whilst we were there on a University field trip we helped the local VSO agents to check water, clean and dig wells to ensure clean water for locals. Helped to eradicate many of the stomach and digestive problems,” I explained as Anita rushed out and dragged us over to her veranda. We sat on a bench as she fussed over us. I noticed she took out a beer bottle from a bucket covered with a wet cloth, a rudimentary fridge. We had a glass each as Anita rattled off a string of sentences to us. I was lost; my Spanish was not that good. Fortunately Carmella realised and translated. 

“Anita says she is pleased to welcome us to her humble abode and hopes you will be comfortable in your cabin. She also added that she is grateful for the extra work she is getting from looking after you. You see, we took her on specially and since she is a recent arrival to the village she is low on the pecking order for paid work. Come on drink your beer, we must get on. I have work to do you know,” she added caustically. These verbal attacks were getting me down but I decided to keep mum until I had a better understanding of the local circumstances. I drank up my cool beer which was very welcome, thanking Anita I picked up my bag and moved over to the jeep. Carmella talked to Anita for a while and then strode over purposefully to the jeep and we were off, back to our buildings.

“Have my supplies arrived?” I asked.

“They are all in the store room. I’ll give you a key when we get back. They were quite costly,” she replied quite aggressively.

“I’ll pay for them out of my allowance,” I said quickly getting the impression that things were not quite right here with the finances.

“No need for that,” she answered rather too promptly. “What do you intend doing now?” she asked quizzically and following in the same vein. “How long will you be staying with us?”

“Well my initial remit from Head Office is for two months but Miss Delores intimated that if I was useful I could extend that.”

“Oh.” Was the only reply I got as we drew up beside a wooden building. “That’s the store room, here is the key. You’ll find your stuff marked up. Help yourself to anything in there and remember to lock up afterwards. We don’t have a theft problem but the locals are very curious.” With that she left me in a cloud of dust. I opened the door and found it very dark inside. The lights didn’t work and I remembered that they only came on at night when the generator for the water pumps was turned on. Opening the wooden shutters to let in more light I soon found myself in an Aladdin’s cave. I immediately saw a pile of boxes neatly stacked and surmised that these were my supplies since the dust was only light.

I decided to check what else was there that could be of use. A couple of portable generators, piles of agricultural tools, stacks of plastic buckets, Pallets of plastic containers for the Aloe Vera juice and coils of plastic piping and plastic dustbins full of plastic fittings, joints and valves. The latter I recognised from my time with Granddad in Spain. I rummaged around the tool box and found a pair of adjustable pliers, wondering if they called them ‘English spanners’ here in Mexico as they did in Spain. Since there were a number of pairs I took a set and put it in my work bag. After quick look at my pile of boxes and bottles I realised I needed a number of them over to my veranda where I decided to set up my work station. This would require a number of trips. Rummaging through the pile I found the box with the microscope and decided to take that over first of all.

The store room was some hundred meters from my cabin and I surmised it would take a number of trips in this heat to carry over what I needed until I saw the three boys sitting patiently on the bench of my veranda. These are going to be my helpers. They visibly brightened as I walked up and stood up smiling at me.

 ‘Hola’ I shouted in greeting and gestured for them to sit down again. I strode into the cabin which was pitch black to keep out the heat of the sun and dumped my bag onto the table which was lit up by the streak of light through the open doorway. I was about to open the shutters but quickly decided against that action. The cool cabin would quickly turn into an oven if the sun got in. I shuffled to the wardrobe and felt for my wind up torch which had been neatly placed on one of the shelves by my guardian Angel, Anita.

 I wound the torch and switched it on and found three faces watching me from the doorway. They quickly disappeared as I shone the torch on them. Amused, I decided to have a shower. I was hot and dusty after the jeep ride and needed to cool down. The water was deliciously cool and I felt much better. I dressed in shorts and cool short sleeved shirt since I was going to be in the shade for most of the afternoon and evening. I looked for my hat and found on the hook next to it a large straw sombrero that I had requested from Anita earlier. She really was an Angel. I stepped out into the bright light of the veranda and was greeted by the three boys jumping to attention from the bench. I beckoned them to follow me.

We trooped over to the store shed and the three boys waited as I unlocked the door. I went inside and lit the place up with my torch as the boys stood at the doorway. They didn’t enter and I surmised that that must have been a local rule and regulation that only certain people were allowed into the store shed. I shone the torch around trying to decide what I needed first when I lit up a dusty table. I needed a bench on the veranda and this would do better than the small table that I had in the cabin. I carried it out with some effort into the light and realised why it had been dumped there. One leg was broken. I would have to find some way of propping it up. I gestured to the boys to carry this bit of furniture to the veranda and went back to root around for other necessary things amongst my supplies. As I found the necessary items and boxes I placed them in the doorway and found the boys carrying them off, hopefully to my veranda.

 I had a vision of all these things disappearing somewhere to end up at a boot sale, although it was difficult to imagine a boot sale in these parts. At least it kept me amused and stopped me thinking of the verbal abuse and accusations I was receiving from Carmella. I couldn’t imagine why this was all warranted but there must be some explanation. I considered myself a pleasant person who got on with most people and I had behaved politely even though a little mischievously at the lunch table earlier, but that seemed to have gone down well.

 My thoughts were broken by a slight cough and a scuffle at the doorway as three smiling faces peered in reminding me I was behind in the selection process. I took out two small boxes and picked up a demijohn of distilled water and carried it out into the searing sunshine. I quickly put on my new sombrero and locked up. I put the torch in my pocket and noticed that the tallest of the boys was struggling to lift the demijohn. I quickly intervened and carried it myself slung over my shoulder. I was grateful for the large sombrero.

On arrival at the veranda, my first though was to have another shower but I noticed that the table had been positioned in a good place to catch the maximum breeze and the broken leg was propped up on some clay bricks. A chair had been brought out for me to sit on and the bench had been placed opposite. The boxes had been neatly positioned against the wall and the boys looked at me questioningly. I smiled, stuck my thumb up and thanked them with a couple of ‘Mucho Gracias’ and ‘Muy Biens’ and their faces burst into full grins and their chests visibly expanded with pride. I had found some willing and inventive workers I mused to myself and wondered how long it would be before they were bored and would run off. Most of the kids in Namibia and Sahara would sit and watch for days. This was the first time that I’d come across kids actually wanting to help. The others had been too shy to come forward.

Chapter 6

Picking up a small box I placed it on the table as the boys sat down on the bench to watch. I took out a small penknife to break the seals on the box and decided the boys should do the task. I indicated what I wanted doing and went into the cabin with my torch to get some batteries. On return I watched the oldest boy as I presumed from his height, carefully slit the seals on the box and turn back the flaps with some help from his tongue and a stream of instructions from the other two. Inside was a silver round object which I recognised as a set of digital scales of scientific quality. These were carefully taken out of and placed on the table. With a questioning look and an approving nod from me the object was taken out of the plastic sleeve and inspected intently by three sets of eyes until one boy noticed that there was something else in the box.

 A small shiny plate, again in a plastic sleeve, was taken out deferentially and placed next to the scales. I picked up the scales in one hand, turning them over and pointed to a couple of screws holding the battery flap. I selected a small screwdriver from my travelling tool kit and handed it to the next boy indicating he should unscrew the flap. With surgical precision and concentration plus enormous assistance from his tongue, the screws were taken out and handed down the line for the next boy to hold and the flap prised open. Three sets of eyes looked into the void and then quizzically back at me for further instructions. I handed over two batteries and listened to a heated argument amongst the boys as to the correct way of inserting the batteries. The eldest deferred to me for help or at least agreement. I picked up a battery and showed them the markings of positive and negative terminals and the same in the small void. They understood immediately and allowed the second boy to insert the batteries correctly and screw back the flap, once again with great help from the tongue.

 Picking up the scales, I turned then over and put the small plate on top. I swung them around to face the boys and switched the button marked ‘ON’ in a deliberate fashion. The dial lit up and a series of letters and numbers appeared on the screen, watched intently by the boys. The dial settled to a series of numbers and I picked up another screwdriver and handed it to the third boy in line and pointed to a screw at the side. I placed his left hand to hold the edge of the scales and he knew what to do with the other hand holding the screw driver. As he twisted, the numbers suddenly changed which gave them all a shock. A questioning look at me assured their relief that they hadn’t done anything wrong and I told them in my best Spanish that they had to get the numbers all to ‘Zero.’ With much comment and discussion they achieved their aim and sat back smugly.

Picking up a pinch of dust and dropping it onto the pan, the numbers on the dial shot up to the consternation of the boys and suddenly an understanding resulted in knowledgeable looks followed by further discussion and comment amongst themselves. The youngest was also the shortest by a hand, had the courage to add a further pinch to the pan which followed nods of agreement as the numbers shot up. The eldest then took the pan and blew the dust off and replaced it. A number still appeared so I proffered a clean duster and the middle one took it and polished the pan with some vigour replaced it and all smiled knowledgeably as the scale zeroed and nodded their heads in understanding. I was impressed and the unpacking of the rest of equipment went quickly and smoothly, with me pointing to the boxes I needed and the boys doing the rest, checking if the equipment needed batteries or was standalone. 

Clearing away the empty boxes was left to me. This allowed me to study the three baby musketeers as I had christened them in my mind. They were all thin and willowy but definitely not malnourished. They lacked the big eyes and paunch of the kids in Namibia. Their washed out clothing was clean but ill fitting which I put down to hand me downs. The eldest whose name was Pedro was eleven but looked younger. Miguel was ten and the youngest Rafa, was nine going on ten. They all had shorn black hair, obviously cut by their mums and their deep brown eyes shone with health. Their shins, knees and bare feet were scuffed and scarred, normal for boys of that age. I surmised that they were healthy lads even though they were skinny and smaller than their European equivalent.

The microscope intrigued them the most and I had to demonstrate its function by sticking a hair from Pedro’s head, the eldest, on a slide and letting them view it under different magnifications. They soon got the hang of it except Rafa, the youngest who insisted I showed him one of his hairs. I then had to place three hairs in the slide including Miguel’s for them to inspect closely. This wasted some time but I wasn’t in any hurry. I didn’t notice that Anita had arrived with a jug of mango juice which she shared between us, as the boys explained and demonstrated to her how each piece of equipment functioned. She even had to give up one of her hairs for inspection under the microscope. I just sat there wishing that the rest of the affair here was just as smooth and pleasant.

We finished the mango juice and I told them to sit whilst I did some work. I took out the four sample bottles of water and carefully divided the contents of each in three test tubes each which were then bunged up, labelled and racked. They watched carefully my every move. I then took a booklet of litmus papers and dipped a strip into one of the test tubes and held it against a colour chart. We finally agreed the colour match after much discussion amongst the boys. I noted the result in my notebook and got Rafa to dip the next batch and again a heated discussion broke out until they agreed a colour match. I duly noted the results. Pedro insisted on dipping the next batch and we got on quicker with the results. Miguel dipped the last batch and promptly showed me the match with nodding heads from the other two. 

I asked them to sit as I picked out another test tube rack with a wooden support above. I picked out another longer booklet of papers and laid it beside the rack as I transferred one test tube from each sample in the new rack. I then clipped a long strip to the top bar so it dangled down the outside of each tube. I wound up a simple kitchen timer and let it tick away whilst I un-stoppered each tube.  By this time the boys had risen and were looking on intently. I took a strip at the end and gestured that each should do the same. They understood quickly and on the count of three we were to let the strips dip into the water. The boys watched as the water rose up the blotting paper strips leaving different coloured marks at different levels.

 There was much excited discussion amongst them as they compared each strip which started displaying different patterns. This was crude, field chromatography but very effective for showing me the various mineral groups in the water. I noted the results in my notebook as they sat and watched patiently. I then took a stopper, shook the tube with a sample from the horse trough and put a drip onto a slide. This I slid under the microscope on low magnification and focused the objective. I then allowed each of the boys a look. They got quite excited as I expected, as huge monsters swam across the view finder. The sample from the animal troughs was full of bugs and larvae that bred there at will. I let the boys get over their excitement as I prepared a slide of a water sample directly from the well. I studied this one more closely and took notes to the consternation of my audience who wanted a look.

 After about five minutes I let them take a look and they were disappointed since the swimmers were smaller and less threatening in appearance. I then took out my laptop and they watched over my shoulder as I checked my catalogue of notes on previous samples I had recorded from the wells of Namibia. I shook my head as I realised the well water was a pretty lethal cocktail of various microbes that would give you a serious dose of stomach cramps if the water hadn’t been boiled thoroughly. The locals may have been used to it but it was at danger level. 

I surmised that the well needed cleaning out and was probably full of debris including birds and animals that had fallen in and were decomposing. Carmella mentioned that the well occasionally dried up and that was probably owing to the fill rather than a lack of water. I needed a plan and set another slide from the animal trough under the microscope and let the boys have their fun whilst I pondered the problem and how to broach it to Carmella and her team. The noise from the boys was too much for me to contemplate my problem fully since they were arguing whose turn it was. I regulated this by using the kitchen timer allowing them a minute each. This settled them somewhat.

Pablo rode by on his horse and invited me for the evening meal in an hour. I looked at my watch and suddenly realised that most of the day had gone and that the light was fading fast. I clapped my hands to get the boys attention and told them or at least gestured to them that I had one last task to carry out and I needed their help. I needed to check the four soil samples that I had taken and took out the sample bags and tipped one into a stone mortar and showed Pedro how to grind the soil into a fine powder.  I got Miguel to decant some distilled water into a pipette that I had set up on a stand and gave Rafa some clean sheets of paper and three sample bags to set out on the table. My labourers were all busy and intent on their task. Pedro had finished grinding to my satisfaction and I indicated that he should tip the dust out in a heap on one of the sheets I had marked. I gave Rafa a spatula and indicated to him to divide the heap equally into four and put one division into a labelled test tube and the other piles into the marked up sample bags. 

I then got Miguel to pour five notches of water into the test tube and shake the contents well. I gave Rafa the book of litmus papers and he knew exactly what to do. I just sat there and watched my workers get on with it. Pedro had picked up the second sample bag of soil and with a nod from me was grinding away merrily with the customary assistance from his tongue. Miguel brought the litmus paper for me to check and showed me on the colour chart the chosen match. I duly noted down the results in my notebook whilst Pedro tipped out the contents of his second grinding onto the second paper for Rafa to divide equally and Miguel picked up the booklet of chromatographic strips. With a nod from me he proceeded to set up the stand, clip in the strip and hand me the kitchen clock to set. Quite production line I had with minimum Spanish needed from me which was just as well because my laboratory vocabulary was just confined to strictly English only. I wondered about their schooling and noted mentally it was another thing I needed to ask Carmella. Completing my tests in record time I had them carry the table into my cabin and bid them ‘Adios’.

Chapter 7

In the fading light I had just enough time to shower, shave and don some clean clothes. Arriving at the makeshift dining room I found them already seated and in the midst of a heated argument. As they saw me enter they stopped and welcomed me with smiles as I sat down opposite Pablo. 

“How was your day?” asked Pablo quite pleasantly.

“Great!” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. “Carmella showed me around the place and I managed to get some work done with my happy band of helpers. I tested some soil and water samples.”

“Good results I hope?” added Pablo questioningly.

“Well yes and no depending on your perspective. Do you want the good results or the bad results first?” I asked trying to be light hearted about it.

“Might as well have the bad first. We’ve had nothing but bad news all day,” answered Alfredo gloomily.

“Yeh, we had our last consignment of juice rejected by the distillation plant,” added Eduardo and I noticed him flinch as Carmella dug him in the ribs to silence him.

“It does happen occasionally and we will have to be more careful,” added Carmella quickly and changing the subject she asked, “And what have you to report Paulo?”

“Well, I checked the water from the well and it’s a dangerous soup of microbes. It needs to be cleaned out straight away and the people must find another source for drinking and cooking,” I remarked quickly and pointing to the water jug added. “I hope that’s not from there!”

“That’s bottled, that the truck brings us,” added Eduardo.

“These people have been drinking this stuff ever since I’ve been here and there is no sign of illness,” pointed out Pablo.

“Maybe,” I replied, “But that stuff is lethal believe me. Only fit for watering the plants and even doubtful for the animals.”

“How do you know so much? You’ve only been here five minutes and you’re telling us that the locals are being poisoned?” added Carmella caustically.

“Look, I bet the well hasn’t been cleaned out for years and birds, bats and vermin fall in and decompose. It also gets filled up with dust since it’s uncovered. That’s why it goes dry occasionally. The water table falls below the muck in the well and no water to scoop out.”

“How do you know so much about wells? You told us you were only a trainee,” retorted Carmella in a dismissive way.

“I spent a year in Namibia as chief Biochemist with VSO, testing wells and supplying villagers with clean and healthy water. I’ve tested and checked hundreds of wells and this one is no different. They get worse over time and this one needs treatment urgently,” I added raising my voice slightly to make my point.

“What do you suggest or recommend then?” added Carmella.

“I suggest we supply the villagers with bottled water that we are drinking here and tell them not to use the water for internal consumption, or even washing only for watering their plants. It’s too dangerous.”

“We haven’t got an infinite supply of bottled water here,” added Pablo, “How long would it take to clean out the well Paulo?”

“Only a day or so. There must be some well diggers in the area. They could do it with no problem.”

“There’s a family of well diggers in the next village Paulo but who will pay for this?” asked Pablo with some interest.

“That’s wonderful Pablo get them over here immediately. As to the payment, I will cover it personally in the first instant and get it back from the International Water Agency part of the UN. I know the ropes and have dealt with them lots of times. Pablo, is there a carpenter, wood worker, joiner around here, someone who works with timber?”

“Yeh, we have a family here who see to all of our carpentry but why Paulo? Please explain Paulo?” added Eduardo with some concern in his voice.

“I want him firstly to construct a strong lid to cover and secure the well Eduardo,” I added.

“You can’t just cut off their water supply like that!” shouted Carmella, “We’ll have a riot on our hands and they’ll probably lynch you!”

“Not if we provide them with a better alternative and get their own supply back quickly. I suggest that we supply them with bottled water for cooking and run a pipe from our deposit, fed by our own bore hole to the village to feed the animals and washing only.”

“Who is going to do that then?” quipped Carmella dismissively.

“I can lay the pipe. Plenty in the store, but you will have to explain to the villagers what we are up to, why and it’s for their own good,” I said firmly. “Eduardo can you send the carpenter to me and Pablo, can you contact the well diggers and get them over here as quickly as possible.”

“You can’t come here and order us about like that!” shouted Carmella rising from her chair.

“Look, sit down Carmella. I know what your problem is here. It doesn’t take a genius to work out. The plants are dying because of over watering with saline water. No wonder your last consignment was rejected.”

“OK smart arse, I suppose you have an answer to that too,” snarled Carmella as she sat down with the help of Pablo.

“Look, I know you are all worried by your predicament but believe me I’m only here to help. I wasn’t sent to spy on you or close you down. We need to use a different source of water that’s all.”

“But we can’t use the villager’s water,” shouted Carmella, “They haven’t enough for their own use.”

“If we share the water with them, that is, give them our borehole supply for animals and washing, then I suspect we could get along OK, otherwise you do have a problem Carmella.”

“But Aloe Vera is tolerant to saline water!” she hissed.

“Yes, but only to about two points. Your water is four points salt, double the tolerance level so you need to dilute it down and use it more sparingly. The spray system you have here is very wasteful and will quickly kill the soil.”

“Carmella, please listen to Paulo. He is talking sense,” Eduardo told Carmella as she was about to let rip with a tirade. “Go on Paulo, go on, and tell us your plan.”

“Thanks Eduardo. This is what I suggest. Firstly supply the villagers with bottled water, secondly I lay a pipe to the village for the animals, thirdly we get the well cleaned out as soon as possible to restore the clean water supply. OK?” I asked as they all nodded in agreement apart from Carmella who just looked on in a thunderous mood. “For the farm side I suggest we put down another bore hole to the fresh water and mix it with our own saline water. We can do this in the second deposit. Immediately we should cut down the watering by half at least.”

“But that will reduce our crop considerably,” added Eduardo.

“In the short term yes but if you continue you will kill off the plants and kill off the soil,” I replied. “Let me go on. I will do some more tests and actual plant experiments to check the dilution we need so that we can share the water with the villagers without their supply drying up. As to the quality of your product, I suggest that for a short while, until we get our production under control you purchase more from the farmers. Their crops are fine and they could harvest more without damage to their stock.”

“We should listen to Paulo,” said Paco, rising to his feet and uttering the first words in this discussion. “He has provided us with a workable plan at last and we should try it. Let’s vote on it. I’m for it,” They all nodded their heads even Carmella. “Now let’s have some food, I’m starving,” said Paco waving to the women to start serving.

That night there was a knock on the door as Pablo brought in and introduced the carpenter. I sat them at my small table and opened three beers from my bucket fridge. With the help of Pablo and some rough sketches I managed to explain to Manolo the carpenter what I required. Firstly I needed a lid for the well to stop things falling in. I needed a fixing for the hand pump instead of the bucket and rope, I needed three new animal troughs and the old one was to be destroyed and used as firewood. The most complicated request was for him to construct a windlass, to be powered by the petrol driven water pump, to quickly pull up the buckets of waste from the well. This would speed up the process immensely. 

The carpenter Manolo and Pablo quickly understood what I was after and they agreed and even made suggestions. I needed a belt to transfer the power from the pulley on the pump to the windlass which was to be an old cart wheel with a grove. Manolo showed me his leather belt which was made up of small linking loops of leather. He stretched out his arms to demonstrate he could make the belt any length. Pablo who quickly understood the principle drew a lever with a pulley which would tighten and loosen the belt to apply or stop power to the windlass. We cracked our beer bottles in agreement. Manolo then sat casting his eyes down and Pablo explained that although he didn’t want to raise the subject there was an outstanding question of payment. I drew out my wallet and said I would pay the expenses without hesitation. Manolo’s relief was visible so I got three more beers and told Pablo to tell Manolo exactly why we were doing this and he was to pass this information on to his family and neighbours.

Chapter 8

Next morning I was woken up by Pablo and Carmella in the jeep loaded up with plastic containers of drinking water.

“We are going to distribute the water and tell the villagers what we are doing and why,” shouted Pablo above the noise of the engine, “The rumour is out, thanks to Manolo. Grab some breakfast and get the water pipe laid. I’ll get someone to give you a hand,” he shouted as they sped off in a cloud of dust.

Dressing quickly I hurried over to dining area and gulped down some orange juice, coffee and a bun in less than a couple of minutes and was out when I remembered I’d left my sombrero behind. I decided to slow down and think through exactly what I needed to do and what tools and equipment I would need. I stuck the sombrero on my head and emptied my accessory bag and filled it with a pair of gloves, pliers, knife and a bottle of water. As I left the cabin I was confronted by the three Musketeers, as I had christened them. I waved my hand for them to follow and they fell into step behind me.

I unlocked the store and entered the dim interior. I knew what I needed and rolled out four, hundred metre rolls of black plastic piping. I then filled my bag with a variety of joints, taps and junctions. The total was too much for my bag so I transferred most of them into a plastic bucket and placed it outside. I searched the tool cupboard and eventually found a small hacksaw for cutting the pipe and a sharp carpet knife for trimming off the burrs. Satisfied I picked up a roll and found it was too heavy.

 Rolling it was the only way and started rolling the bundle towards the water deposit on the hill. Rafa picked up the bucket whilst Miguel and Pedro started rolling the second roll between them. I pointed towards the deposit and set off. With a bit of a struggle I got there, dumped the roll and slit the bindings. Rafa dumped the bucket and started unrolling the black tubing whist I measured about a hundred strides away from the deposit and alerted Pedro and Miguel to head in that direction with their roll. They understood and I went back to inspect the junctions and joins at the base of the deposit.

I eventually found suitable valve and cut the pipe with the hacksaw and started cleaning up the burrs. Rafa looked on and selected an appropriate ‘T’ junction and unscrewed the fittings. He watched me do the fittings handing me the seals and grips in order. I fitted the new pipe onto the ‘T’ and was about to instruct Rafa when I saw he had already bent the pipe over to restrict the flow. I nodded and turned the valve on to check for leaks. It looked OK but I gave each nut another turn with the grips. I learned from Granddad not to over tighten these joints and gave him another silent prayer.

Rafa was already struggling on with the bucket of joints and also rolling out the pipe. I caught up with him and took over the pipe work. Miguel and Pedro were already waiting for me at the limit of the length of the pipe. I cut the bindings and they were off to get the next roll. Rafa had the necessary joint in hand and was already taking it apart and slipping the appropriate nuts into place. I tightened up the joint with my hands and again with the pliers and caught up with Rafa who was struggling with the bucket and rolling out the next section. This was going well and we were all working as a team. By the time we unravelled the second section I could see Pedro and Miguel rolling the third roll into place. I realised we would need more rolls so I left Rafa and took the other two back to the store and got out three more sections for good measure.

 We brought two rolls back and I went to check on Rafa. He had assembled the joint and showed me that it was correct and I tightened it and we were off to the next section. At the fourth section about a hundred metres from the nearest dwelling of the village I fitted a ‘T’ joint and cut a couple of pieces of pipe. Rafa was puzzled until I showed him what I wanted and he found the appropriate valves and taps. I had decided to position the animal troughs here and fitted a precautionary valve along the line for safety reasons if we ever developed a leak. By the time we had unravelled the fifth section we were at the edge of the village and now had a larger audience to contend with, mainly young children who had decided that this was more interesting than being with their Mums. Once again I noticed that they just stood or sat back at a safe distance and just stared. Children in the Third World countries all seemed to behave in the same way which was a God-send since they didn’t mess about with the equipment and get in the way.

I pondered where to stop the pipe, at the well or some distance from it. I decided what the hell, let’s direct the water to each dwelling and have done with it. I put in a ‘T’ junction and indicated my intention to Rafa. He seemed surprised but nodded his head and carried the bucket as I unrolled the pipe. When we put a junction in at the first house and the woman realised that she would have water at her doorstep she was delighted. The news spread like wildfire around the community and the women stood patiently at their doors, waiting our arrival and then they would show us exactly where they wanted their tap. It was no skin off my nose so I smiled and complied with their requests. 

The boys were now rightly important and strutted their stuff in style, showing off to their elders and their younger friends. I had to let them assemble the plastic joints and only tighten them with the pliers and maybe finally fix the pipe to the door post or the corner post as requested. The final joint was made as Pablo turned up with the two workers. He was impressed that we had achieved so much and I told him to tell the households not to use the water for drinking, only washing and that animal troughs would be set up out outside the village. 

He told me he had allocated two men to help me and asked if I still needed them. I suggested that they would be needed to bury the pipe as deep as possible otherwise they would constantly have hot water and eventually the sun would damage the plastic, as I had learned from bitter experience in Spain. Pablo agreed and told the men what I needed them for. They discussed the matter what seemed for ages and then Pablo translated that they would get mules and a plough and carry out the task that way. Seemed a good idea and I rounded up the boys to turn on the water in sections and check for leaks. We had done a fairly good job and the system only needed a few tweaks and we congratulated ourselves with a drink of warm water from my water bottle.

 I’d forgotten to ask Pablo about the well diggers and would have to ask him at lunch after the siesta. I then indicated to the boys to take me to the carpenter by doing a sawing action with my hand. They understood and took me behind a dwelling where there was a makeshift shelter and a couple of men working on what looked like the animal troughs. Manolo came up beaming and showed me the troughs being assembled. He then took me to the front of the house and pointed to the tap, turning it on and off and showed me the thumbs up sign. We had another satisfied customer. He then took me to the corner of the shelter where he had positioned a large piece of cardboard with a scaled drawing of the gantry and windlass I had ordered. All seemed well and I stuck my thumb up in acknowledgement. 

He then took me and showed me the cart wheel and showed how it would be assembled on cross beams that were being shaped up. After much gesticulation I understood that he wanted to know how I wanted the rope to be fixed to the spindle. I showed him with a piece of round wood and a piece of rope that it would be a continuous rope that would be looped twice over the spindle and the friction would be sufficient to wind up the rope. I also showed him how the buckets would be fixed to the rope. He shook his head vigorously in understanding and beckoned me to follow.

 We crossed the village and went behind another dwelling and found another small workshop under a makeshift shelter and a man cutting shapes out of leather. After many greetings the man brought out a basket of leather bits cut into the shapes of ‘8’ which he folded and joined together through the loops. He then took out a roll of belting that he was making. This was wonderful and much improved on the odd bit of rope we used to use on our contraption in Namibia. Probably far too good for the job in hand but I wasn’t going to spoil the show at this stage. I wished I knew where Pablo was with the well diggers but I would have to leave that until the three o’clock lunch. I checked my watch and realised it was noon and siesta time. Suddenly feeling dog tired, I said my farewells and sauntered off back to my cabin, had a shower and found the beer bucket had been replenished by my guardian angel. I set the alarm and slunk under the mosquito net. The next thing I knew was the alarm ringing me awake. I jumped up, swished some water over my face, dressed and ran out of the cabin nearly tripping over the bucket of joints and spares that the boys had left there and I had totally forgotten about. I put the bucket inside the cabin and went off for lunch, rather pleased with myself.

“You’ve done a good job on the water front Paulo,” shouted Eduardo as I entered. “You’ve won the villagers over. It was a stroke of genius to feed the water to each home, over gilding the lily, but very effective. Well done!”

“Thanks Eduardo. I hope I haven’t used up all of your stocks,” I answered, pleased with myself.

“Well done Paulo, you’ve made things easier for us,” added Carmella which surprised me since it was the first sign of appreciation I had had from her.

“Where is Pablo?” I asked seeing that his place was empty and not even set.

“He’s off to bring the well diggers over in the jeep. Should be here some time tonight,” added Carmella. “Should be able to start on the well tomorrow.”

“Good news, I only hope Manolo can get the windlass finished in time,” I said showing some concern.

“Don’t worry Paulo it will be done even if Manolo has to work all night,” added Eduardo. “He is staking his reputation on this job. If it works he sees further work from that quarter. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.” We ate and drank in silence, each one deep in their own thoughts, until Carmella broke the spell.

“What tests will you do on the watering of the Aloe Vera?”

“Well I thought I would plant some forty equal sized specimens and water them differently and check the results,” I said thinking on my feet since I hadn’t really thought it through. 

“Where will you do that?” probed Carmella.

“Haven’t decided yet but probably on some virgin land, near the plantation and as close to the water supply as possible I suppose.”

“I’ll find you a site,” continued Carmella. “And when do you intend to start?”

“As soon as the well if finished and the water tested,” I replied. “Who does your bore holes around here?”

“We hire an outfit of travellers. I’ve contacted them already and they should be here in a week or so. Maybe earlier,” answered Eduardo.

“That’s good,” I replied enthusiastically, “You seem to get things done pretty efficiently around here.”

“Well it only takes a phone call,” replied Eduardo.

“What!” I exploded, “You have a phone here?”

“Sure! We pick up a cellnet signal and that’s how we communicate around here,” answered Eduardo looking at me as if I was a total imbecile. I looked at Carmella and she visibly reddened so I decided to take a softer tack.

“Oh good, I’ll be able to text home and check my Email from friends back in England,” I said cheerfully but seething inside. She obviously planned to keep that information from me so that I couldn’t report back. I ate my meal quickly and excused myself saying I had further soil tests to carry out which was true but I really wanted to check my phone and email.  I found ten text messages waiting for me from friends and family and then I set up the Internet and downloaded a further stream of letters. There was a knock on the door and Pedro was there frantically waving for me to come. I didn’t have time to question him as he sped off towards the deposit. I expected water to be gushing out everywhere but only saw the mules, the boys and the muleteer waiting patiently for me.

I arrived rather flustered and Miguel asked me with gesture if the trench was deep enough. I nodded and stuck my thumb up in the affirmative and wondered what all the fuss was about. Rafa then pointed to the tap and raised his eyebrows in question. I understood immediately. It was pointless even stupid to bury the valves in the trench. I nodded my head in agreement and understanding and thought back what Granddad did in these circumstances. I cleared a piece of earth with my foot and with the end of my wrench I drew a bucket, then an arrow to show it turned over. They still looked puzzled. I then pointed to the bottom of the bucket and drew a circle to represent it then proceeded to do a tin opener action to cut a flap. The muleteer was the first to understand and shouted in agreement.

 I took Pedro back to the store and checked how many buckets were left. To my relief there were a couple of stacks so I took four outside and with the saw bit of my Swiss army penknife, cut a flap in the bottom of each. Pedro took the buckets and I told him to send Rafa back to me at the store. I then set about finding the equipment needed for the well diggers. I didn’t know what they would bring but assumed it would be only ladders that they would rope together. Good enough for most jobs but rather slow and dangerous in my experience.

Chapter 9

A cough at the door alerted me that Rafa was standing there. The patience of these kids always astounded me. Kids back home would have got bored with this lot and gone off to kick a ball around. I took out a coil of rope and sat in the shade as Rafa watched. I cut six, two metre lengths off and whipped an end with a strand so that the rope wouldn’t fray. I gave a strand to Rafa and helped him whip the other end. We then sat whipping all the rest of the ends with Rafa showing me his handiwork for inspection and approval. Having tied a loop with a bowline knot with a half hitch at one end I showed Rafa how easily it could be undone but strong enough to bear my weight without slipping. He was intrigued and begged to be taught how and he tied the same loop on all the other lengths. I then fashioned some hooks out of metal bars that fixed on the handle of the buckets and then demonstrated to Rafa that these would be hooked onto the loop he had made and lowered down the well. He understood but looked puzzled and shook his head. I suddenly realised he was telling me that the length of rope was far too short to go down the well. Silly me and demonstrated that the lengths would be attached to the main rope and he was happier but gave me a look that said, ‘why have you cut the rope in the first place?’ My Spanish wasn’t good enough to explain and had to give up. 

At that moment the other two boys turned up announcing the trench work had been finished and beckoned me to come and inspect. Trooping after them Rafa explained what we had been up to at the store. At the end I got three puzzled looks as they thought the Englishman must be crazy for cutting the rope short. I was hoping to put them right on that one, next day. The muleteer with his animals had gone and the trench had been backfilled. At the point of each valve there was a bucket protruding from the earth with a flat stone covering the flap. A post had been hammered into the ground to show clearly its position. These guys were good and I only wished that I could communicate with them more freely in Spanish. A second new trough had been installed and was slowly filling. It rested on the first so the spill over would fill it eventually. With four troughs I imagined that this would be sufficient for the animals and the salty water plus the other trace minerals contained would be beneficial to them, remembering watching goats scrambling over a precipitous slope in Namibia to reach a salt lick. They probably had similar sites around here.

Waving the boys to follow me back to the cabin, I lifted out the laboratory table and Rafa propped it up with the customary bricks whilst I got the equipment boxes out and the boys set them out. A small gas burner which doubled for a Bunsen burner was placed on the table. They were intrigued when I got the second batch of soil samples out in their plastic packets. I tipped one sample on the dish and put it on the scales noting down the weight, placed the dish on the burner and fired up until the soil was red hot. With tongs I removed the dish and set it aside on a trivet to cool. Pedro weighed the next sample and he copied the result in my note book. Miguel did the next one and Rafa the last. They all managed to copy the numbers down quite well but not fluently. I had heated all the samples and the first was cool enough to weigh again. I copied the weight and subtracted it from the first as they watched. Pedro weighed the next sample, recorded the weight and then I saw the problem. They didn’t know basic maths and the copying had probably been artistic. I didn’t say anything but it reminded me to ask Carmella about schooling for the kids in the village. I suspected there wasn’t any.

 Checking the results, I found the soil quite devoid of much organic matter which should have burnt away. This was bad since any water would just drain through the soil with very little being retained for the plants. Taking out the next batch of samples I poured a measured amount of water into each bag and got the boys to knead the bags like clay but the contents wouldn’t stick and couldn’t be moulded again suggesting that the water retention properties of the soil were very low. This was bad news since it suggested that most of the water just drained through the soil with very little retained for the plant roots to take up. The soil from the villagers plots were marginally better which I assumed was largely due to rotting leaves from the Aloe Vera which wasn’t picked so intensely. This gave me some ideas for my tests that I had to set up.

We packed up the equipment and I put the boxes in the cabin and decided to leave the laboratory table or bench out on the veranda. Donning my sombrero, I gestured for them to follow and strode off shouldering my tool bag. We went in the direction of the village and then on towards the villager’s Aloe Vera plots. There was definitely extra activity with men harvesting the green leaves. Carmella must have upped the quota I mused. At least the quality of the juice would improve. I took some photographs of the plots and some of the boys who were intrigued by seeing themselves immediately on the camera screen. Beyond the plots the rough scrubland stretched for miles with clumps of Aloe Vera scattered here and there.  Picking five sticks and carefully cutting them to about forty centimetres long I gave one to each boy and showed them I wanted them to find Aloe Vera plants, each the height of the stick with six leaves. They went off in different directions to find and count how many they would find to those specifications.

 After about twenty minutes I whistled and called them back. Rafa emptied his pockets and pulled out some pebbles. I assumed they were his count and I solemnly counted them up in Spanish and wrote the number twenty one in the dirt. Miguel held up his hand and waved it four times and held up three fingers. I duly noted down twenty three. Pedro took his stick and wrote down twenty six and I wrote down my sixteen then drew a line and asked Pedro to add them together whilst I pretended to check my camera. There was much discussion and some argument but they finally came up with a number which was close. I asked Pedro to copy the numbers and result into my note book. He did it with some difficulty.

 Suddenly I felt sorry for these bright boys who were missing out on basic education. I felt I needed to do something for them. I’d seen successful schools in the most primitive of areas and surely these kids should have one here. It didn’t need much, a shelter and blackboard was all that was needed. I swore to myself and kicked a rock in anger. By putting in the water pipes to each dwelling I was depriving the womenfolk of a basic community necessity of meeting, chatting and discussing problems at the well or water source. In one blind, stupid move I had probably upset the fragile social balance of the people there.

As we walked back to the village I pondered on the problem and came out with a solution. A communal washhouse would have to be constructed where the women could meet and chat. The water was there on tap, all it needed was a roof to shelter from the sun and some wooden basins with washboards and my Manuel the carpenter could knock them up with ease. Funding shouldn’t be a problem. I would get in touch with UNESCO and they would probably deal with it. If we extended the shelter we could have a schoolroom and then all it needed was to find and fund a Spanish teacher. In my excitement I picked up my pace and contemplated the wording of my letter to a contact. This was one of many requests that I had made and I had a good track record with that Agency. If I could only get my Company to add to those funds then it would all be brilliant but my profile in the Company was low if non existent. The only way was for the agency to ask them for a donation. 

Broaching the subject at the dinner table, they showed little enthusiasm but they wouldn’t prevent it if I organised it and found the funding. Paco warned me that I might be opening a can of worms. I put that down to fear of new ideas and change. I’d come across this in many of the villages in Namibia and any new idea had to be tried and tested by some other village before it got universally accepted. It required some bribing of the chief and inducement to the villagers to be guinea pigs. Quite often they abandoned the scheme once we had left even though it had been adopted by others and ran successfully. Water project were easy since the results were immediately visible and beneficial.

Chapter 10

A shout of ‘Paulo! Paulo!’ awakened from deep slumber by Anita banging on the door shouting with the words that I recognised as ‘Arrivez,’ ‘Agua’ and ‘Obras.’ The well diggers must have arrived. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes and saw Anita had lit a candle so it must be still be dark outside. By the time I had showered and dressed Anita had gone but the angel had brought a tumbler of juice and some bread for my breakfast. I wolfed it down and watched the dawn come through the open door. Collecting my bag of tools, sombrero and tough gloves I set off for the store. There I met Pablo loading the jeep with the equipment I had set aside. After a few greetings I helped him to load the heavy pump and we set off with a good grinding of gears for good measure.

 Arriving at the well in the middle of the village I immediately noticed Manolo had set up the winding gear over the wellhead and there was much discussion and arm waving with a group of well diggers that were recognisable by their different form of dress. The argument stopped as we pulled up and Manolo pointed to me in a manner that said he had all the answers. I jumped out and greeted the men. There were five, an older man probably the grandfather, the father, two sons and a grandson I surmised. They were all smoking some vile home cured cigarettes rolled in newsprint and talked ten to a dozen with the stubs hanging from their lips.

 Pablo hushed them up and asked the elder to speak. He then translated for me that they didn’t know what the contraption was that the stupid Carpenter had put up and it would only get in the way of their ladders and labour. I told them through Manolo that we would show them what it was about and the contraption was there to assist them not to hinder them. Sometime later Carmella confided in me that what Pablo told them in no uncertain terms to shut up and listen to the English engineer who had dug more wells than they had cigarettes and if they didn’t like it they were to bugger off home with their rotten ladders and useless ropes, and he wasn’t going to take them back in the jeep. Probably just as well since they all sat down on their haunches as I thought, to listen and watch when they were just showing their displeasure.

By this time the whole village had gathered around at a distance and watched the proceedings in silence only the three boys broke the circle and came in to assist, off-loading the buckets, lengths of prepared rope and coils of rope and plastic pipe. Pablo and I lifted out the pump and positioned it roughly in line with the cart wheel. Manolo looped the long leather belt over the cartwheel and led the loop over to the pulley on the pump. We repositioned the pump until Manolo was satisfied that it was in line then we staked it to the ground so that it wouldn’t move. Whilst I was fixing the piping with the boys Pablo fired up the pump amidst much smoke and Manolo carried out the final adjustments to the lever. The windlass worked exactly as I had explained to Manolo and he could control the device with the lever. He was very pleased with himself as I busied myself with the boys. We had a pipe down the well and a short pipe on the outlet of the pump. Giving the thumbs up sign to Pablo who turned off the engine and suddenly it all went quiet. I noticed the crowd were still there staring away at us in wonderment.

 The five well diggers were still sitting there and watching with interest. Manolo poured a bucket of water into the funnel on the pump to prime it and as it came out of the short pipe with a valve attached I turned it off and connected up the pipe leading to the well. Opening the valve, Pablo fired up the engine. The pump gurgled and spat as Pablo kept pouring more water into the funnel which the boys kept bringing then suddenly all the spluttering stopped and a steady flow shot out of the end. I shouted to Pablo above the noise of the engine and he adjusted the engine speed so that we had a steady flow rather than a gush. I then signalled to Manolo to set the windlass in motion to check that the pump could cope with the extra load. Pablo came over and gave me a high five and said he was impressed.

Getting the main rope ready I set about by cutting off a measured length and let Rafa whip the loose ends for me. Looping one end over the spindle twice I tied off the two loose ends and Pablo let the long loop down into the well. The loop just touched the water which is what I wanted. The short bits of rope that Rafa and I had prepared were tied one by one to the long rope hanging in the well. I signalled to Manolo to start the windlass and stopped him at intervals and tied another length which Rafa held out. Manolo quickly understood what was wanted and set the windlass in motion and stopped as required until all had tied off. Pedro brought over the buckets and I demonstrated how they hooked onto the loops and could be lifted out full, unhooked and emptied with no danger of them falling into the well and onto the workers below.

Pablo then explained to the well diggers what we had done and how the device worked. They finally stood up and shook their heads and sucked their teeth. They didn’t seem convinced. I told Pablo what I was going to do and he smiled and explained to Manolo who shook his head in wonderment and uttered something which was translated by Pablo as ‘Mad Englishman.’ I put my foot into a loop and signalled for Manolo to lower me down. With a shout to Pablo, Manolo stopped the windlass and with another signal started again and suddenly I popped up again on the upward rope to the amazement of the crowd. Pablo came over and gave me another high five and turned to the well diggers and started to harangue them. I later learned from Carmella that he had given them the last chance to decide to work with our contraption or bugger off home. They sucked their teeth and started getting their equipment together.

 Pablo then told them to take only two ladders down and some planks plus their lanterns and digging tools according to my instructions. We would let them down slowly, one at a time. Only two to go down and the other two can control things at the top. They would then swap over as needed. After much sucking of teeth and shaking of heads the youngest volunteered to go down first with a ladder and a lantern. The old man was to peer over into the well and control the descent. It took a while but finally the youth disappeared with the ladder and lantern and Manolo controlled the windlass to allow a snail pace descent.  A shout stopped the winding gear and the youth was allowed time to set his ladder in the mud at the bottom so that he could stand on it out of the water. The second man took down a second ladder and this went a faster pace. The youth was brought up and his father then went down with some planks and tools. After a while a shout came that we should lower the buckets. Pablo hooked three onto a loop and Manolo let them down as I attached the next three to the next loop and we waited.

The engine noise changed perceptibly and the old man signalled that the first bucket was coming up. As the loop came in sight Manolo slowed the gear and one of the men pulled out the bucket onto the ground away from the well head and unhooked it as Manolo speeded up the gear. I pointed that I wanted the stuff tipped by the pump outlet so that I could wash the mud and display for all to see the contents of the well. The first bucket threw up some small bones but the next bucket came up with a skull of a goat. I got the boys to pick out the bones and put them to one side for display. This was a demonstration to show what horrible stuff had been rotting in the well. Carmella took an interest and identified the animals brought up, mainly birds, bats and rodents.

 Suddenly there was a shout from below and an exchange with the old man. After a while, he waved to carry on but the man emptying the buckets, crossed himself and didn’t know what to do next. I looked into his bucket and found a small skull, probably of a child. Carmella picked it out and showed it to the people watching. Suddenly a woman broke out into an ear splitting wail and started to be consoled by the other women. Carmella told us that she had lost a child some years ago that had disappeared, rumoured to have been carried off by wolves. The boy must have fallen down the well by accident and drowned. This wasn’t the first time I had come across this so I told Pablo we should have a break for a while and the two men were brought up for well-earned rest and wash down. Pablo spoke to Manolo and asked him to provide a small coffin for the bones so that we could bury the boy decently.

Manolo returned carrying a wooden box and Carmella brought some white tissue paper to line it. Rafa carefully put the little skull in the box and I noticed all three crossed themselves several times. That was the signal for the work to recommence. The men roused themselves and Pablo started up the pump. Without hesitation the men lowered themselves down the well, carrying their hurricane lanterns. The pump gurgled and the water suddenly spurted from the outlet and all was well. Buckets of mud started coming up and Carmella washed it down and sifted out the bones which were set aside to dry in the sun. I was superfluous to the proceedings and retired to a nearby shady veranda to write up some notes and plan my next plant experiment. This was also an opportunity to take some photographs as a personal record and to send to my friend in the UN to show that work was being carried out. Anita brought me a drink of mango juice and the next thing I knew was Pablo kicking my foot to wake me up. I jumped up as Pablo laughed and said they had finished and wanted me to inspect before they brought their ladders up from the well.

 Through Pablo I managed to determine to what depth they had cleared and asked what was at the bottom of the well. A shout down the well brought up a bucket with a ball of blue clay which was good. It meant that there was a good impermeable layer down there to prevent the water escaping further down into the rocks. I asked how deep the well was into the clay layer and a shout came back that it was about two metres down, just over the height of a tall Englishman. I asked Pablo if the well diggers knew how deep the clay layer was and the old man replied it was usually about four metres thick in these parts and they had rarely broken through it. I then wanted to know how deep the water table was and after much discussion and explanation the shout came back that the earth on the well sides was damp six or seven metres above the water level. This wasn’t very accurate but was sufficient information for me to know that there was plenty of water down there in the rocks. On my instructions Pablo told them to come up and we would pack up for the day.

 I went to inspect the water from the outflow and found it running muddy but the clay quickly settled out in a glass specimen jar I had brought. I wanted to leave the well for at least twenty four hours and then do some further tests to check the quality of the well water. Eduardo brought a box of cold beers and we all celebrated the success of the mission. Carmella showed me the makeshift coffin which now contained a number of recognisable bones of the poor boy. The box seemed rather big I thought but Rafa had suggested that we should put the other animal bones in too since the boy had ‘lived’ with these unfortunate animals down the well. It seemed a nice idea and Carmella said she would go and discuss this with the mother and that they would bury the box in the graveyard next Sunday, when the travelling priest came to the village.

 Pablo lifted the pump back into the jeep and was about to undo the long rope leading into the well when the old fellow gripped my arm and started a stream of Spanish that I didn’t understand. Pablo came to my rescue and translated that they were thanking the great English engineer for showing them a more modern way of well digging which was much quicker and safer. They would be eternally grateful and would light candle for me on St. Paulo’s day if they could adopt the ideas and machinery for their own use. I told Pablo to thank them for their good work and that they could take the buckets and rope for their own     use. The old man then said that if we gave him the gantry and windlass they wouldn’t charge the village for the work they had done. This seemed excessive but I told them that the windlass was still the property of Manolo the carpenter and they should go and negotiate the price with him. Pablo told them the pump was not for sale since it belonged to the farm but he told them where they could get a second hand one for a decent price.

 The discussions with Manolo took some time and we took the pump back to the store and rooted about until we found a workable hand pump which we took back to the well head and they were still in deep negotiation. We set up the hand pump and connected it to the plastic pipe. Pablo said it was a self-priming type but we had to pump an awful long time before the water came through. Pablo said he would get Manolo to sink a stout piece of timber and fix the pump to it. Finally an agreement on the gantry was reached and Manolo was smugly pleased with himself. 

It seemed that Manolo had rented them the woodwork on the condition that they got him three more orders and it was then to be theirs. In the mean time they were to pay him so much a month. He also had waived the first month’s payment if the well diggers didn’t charge the village for their time and labour. This seemed too good to be true. Pablo added that he wanted to keep the gantry and finish it off with some embellishments so that it would look better, plus he would affix his mark to show the proud maker.  The well diggers would come back with their mules and collect the knocked down apparatus in a couple of days’ time. I asked Pablo if he was going to drive the men back to their village but he told me that their mules were on their way with the rest of their gear. They would be off in the cool of the evening after they had a meal and I shouldn’t worry about them. By comparison they were well off. They had their farms and a lucrative trade of well digging.

 Manolo’s helper came from his workshop rolling strong wooden cover which we fitted over the well to prevent rubbish and kids falling in again. I asked and showed Manolo if he would fit a post for the hand pump and then suddenly had a brain wave of asking him to knock up a wooden shelter to provide the water collectors some shade from the sun and it might allow them to gather, stop and chat as they would have done at the well. Pablo thought I was crazy but I reminded him that all English water engineers, first class, were crazy. We laughed as a delegation of men and women came up and one of the elders wanted to make a speech. Carmella translated that in a longwinded way they were thanking me for providing them with water and cleaning up the well. 

I was then expected to give a response so I told them about my work in Namibia where the locals were very, very poor and that they should also be grateful to Carmella, Pablo, Eduardo and Paco who held them all in esteem and always there to help the villagers. With the translation and no doubt lots of further embellishments from Carmella, this took a long time and the sun was unrelenting. I lastly asked Carmella to tell them not to use the well until the water had been tested. She translated, adding that they couldn’t use it until Sunday in four days’ time when the Priest would come and bless it and that they could organise a fiesta. This seemed a better explanation and would give me time to fully test the water after it had cleared. I was glad to get back to my cabin, stand under a cool shower and sink into a deep sleep until lunch time.

Chapter 11

  Over lunch the mood had changed and I was no longer the evil pariah and the conversation was certainly more enjoyable and humorous. Carmella suggested an area which I could use for my plant tests and would come round later and discuss the project in detail. I later found that she was a Botanist, trained at the universities of Mexico City and San Diego and felt a little foolish since she probably knew more than me on how to conduct such tests. After lunch I checked my Email whilst my helpers sat patiently on the bench. 

There was a reply from my contact in UN. ‘Welcome back to the fold Paul. Glad you’re back in the water game. An access to funds of up to 2,000USD has been arranged for you at the National Bank of Mexico. Use your usual ID. Let me know if this is sufficient. A rep from UNESCO will visit your area to discuss schooling. Carry on the good work! Richard.’ I sent a brief acknowledgement and promised to send some photographs and closed down my laptop.

Looking up I saw three expectant faces staring at me with a ‘What next look?’ I picked up my bag, sombrero and beckoned them to follow to the store room. Each got bucket and I went back for some digging tools and bade them to follow me to the area designated by Carmella.

Drawing a map in my note book I showed them a plan of what was to be achieved. After some discussion they nodded their heads in understanding and I paced out the area as they marked the boundaries with large rocks. We divided the area into strips and marked off each strip for the position of each plant. I dug the first hole and showed them it needed to be so deep and wide enough for a bucket stand in the base of every other one. The in between holes needed only to be cone shaped. They took up a mattock each and we all started to dig. In the heat it was slow work even though the soil was soft and dusty. 

After we finished a row I beckoned to Pedro to follow me back to the store. There we cut forty or so pieces of plastic pipe each just over a metre in length, found a funnel that fitted the pipe and we carried it all back to the field. Rafa and Miguel were interested what we were up to and I had to demonstrate that the pipe was to be put into the base of the hole and with the funnel we could pour water down into the hole where the roots would be. They obviously thought it was a waste of time but carried on.

 Half way through our digging Carmella rode up on a fine horse to inspect our work and discuss the plan. This took quite some time since the boys required a translation of every element and decision. Carmella seemed very patient with them and they kept looking at me and nodding their heads. She also thought that the pipes for watering the plants were pure overkill and we had to plan another row without pipes to check the effect. I was pretty sure that we could save a lot of water and the plants would benefit.

Having prepared the field with holes I took them over with their buckets to the processing plant explaining that the buckets were to be filled waste which would then be tipped in the wider holes. They obviously thought the Englishman had lost all of his senses but I just went on filling the buckets with the rotted waste until they started to help, all apart from Miguel who said something and went off. I presumed he had had enough of this nonsense and had better things to do. I was about to take a bucket and carry it off back to our field when Pedro stopped me and pointed. I eventually saw Miguel coming along over the hill on a mule. I understood now and smiled at the boys, who looked at me as if I was an imbecile. No self-respecting person in these parts carries loads in the heat when a mule can do it for you was the message I got from the posture and facial expressions.

 I took out the storeroom key and pointed to the buckets and they all nodded and Rafa beckoned for me to follow to get more buckets. On the way I noticed a broken down lean to against the back of the storeroom. I investigated and found an old dilapidated bowser for carrying water, pulled by horse or mule. The frame and wheels looked sturdy but the canister looked somewhat rusty and wondered how many leaks it had and would it do the job of watering the plants in the test field.

I helped Rafa carry a stack of buckets to the waste heap. By the time we had arrived the mule was already on its way back from the first load. I helped Rafa fill the buckets as the other two loaded up the mule and carried them off. After the third load Miguel showed me with his fingers that we needed six more buckets of waste and we all followed the mule down to our field with the last load. I checked the holes and it all seemed perfect so I picked up the mattock, stood on the waste to tamp it down and pulled the dusty soil back into the hole leaving a basin like depression, a black pipe sticking out and a slight depression for the Aloe Vera that we were going to plant. The boys understood and went off to a strip and started backfilling as I’d shown them.

When we had finished I took them back to the lean to and we cleared the junk away from the bowser and pulled it out to inspect more closely. One of the wheels looked damaged and the harness needed repair. I asked the boys to harness it up to the mule and we dragged the bowser to the water troughs. In the meantime I had replaced the buckets and taken a length of soft water pipe from the store. Only two troughs were in position and they were filling up nicely with a constant trickle from the tap. Whilst the mule drank I fitted the length of pipe to the tap and told the boys to fill the bowser. This seemed an excuse for a water fight and the one with the hose sprayed the others amidst much laughter and hilarity. In the end we were all soaked and sat with our backs against the wheels and waited for the bowser to fill up as we dried in the sun. The evaporation was quite cooling and enjoyed by all.

 Suddenly Pedro screamed as a jet of water streamed down on him. We had found our first leak. I scratched a mark with my knife to show the holes and the boys scattered to look for sticks to plug the holes so that we could raise the level to more than half full. Satisfied I turned off the hose and let the water spill out of the bowser. This puzzled the boys until I pointed to the wonky wheel and said ‘Manolo’ They understood immediately and led the mule slowly towards the village until we reached the carpenter’s shelter.

The boys took over and told him exactly what was needed as he inspected the bowser, testing bits and pieces and sucking his teeth. Eventually he faced me and smiled nodding his head. I smiled back and indicated that I would pay by slapping my back pocket, pointing to myself and leafing out the imaginary money. He understood, smiled and patted my arms in a conciliatory gesture. We left him to it and the boys lead off the mule. Carmella was fortunately riding by and asked how we were getting on. I told her that the next job was to get the plants and asked her if we could borrow the mule for the watering process. She talked to the boys and all was arranged. We could have the mule in the mornings for as long as we wanted. I said adios to the boys and walked back to my cabin to check out my email and do some paperwork.   

That evening, at dinner there was a complete transformation in the mood. Pablo was joking and calling me chief engineer, Eduardo was telling jokes and even Alfredo was full of it, telling all how the quality of the juice had improved with the greater amount of leaves from the farmers. I broached the subject of education with Carmella and she told me that she had made efforts before but the Authorities were so slow, particularly since funding was difficult. I told them my good news that I had sufficient funding to replace all the stores that I had used and to pay off Manolo for his woodwork.

I also offered to donate something towards the Fiesta on Sunday. Carmella suggested we pool our donations and buy a couple of goats for the spit and some sausage and meat for the chilli con carne. We all agreed and downed another beer. I told them that a UNESCO representative was coming to the area at my request to try and improve hygiene and education, this might kick start the Local Authorities into motion. We talked well into the night and Alfredo even proposed a toast to me thanking me for saving the plantation and their jobs. We were a long way from that I thought but at least I was being appreciated for a change. Life seemed to have turned a corner, especially when Carmella, the ice maiden, suddenly suggested that she teach me to ride tomorrow afternoon and she would show me the area.

Chapter 12

Next morning the alarm woke me from deep sleep and I realised I was suffering from a hangover from the previous night’s festivities. A long cool shower helped a little and I went over to the dining room in the dim light of dawn to scrounge some orange juice. The two women were already there so I did much better, with a mug of coffee and hot bread. By the time I had got back to my cabin the day had broken and I picked up my stuff and sauntered over to the store room which was now becoming my second home it seemed. I got out some mattocks and buckets when the boys arrived with the mule. I told them, the best I could, that we were off to collect some Aloe Vera seedlings to plant out in our field. They understood and all three mounted the mule and we were off to outskirts of the village. This time the boys took their mattocks and buckets and dug up plants according to my specification. I helped initially but then was busier setting them out in rows on the ground so that we could inspect them and reject any that weren’t up to the specifications. I soon called a halt since we had more than we needed and with the help of the boys we weeded out the ones which were too small or damaged. They were far more rigorous than me in the selection and kept inspecting each plant carefully and lining them up.

 We loaded our bounty into the buckets and set off back to the village. The mule looked like a Christmas tree festooned in green. We called on Manolo and he was busy with the finishing touches to the water bowser. Again he had done a better job than required with new wheel spokes, new leather harnesses and the tank was being mended with a kind of tin weld that I had seen pot menders use in other poor Countries of Africa. This was far better job than I required since I reckoned I only needed the bowser for a couple of weeks or so but I couldn’t complain. We sat around waiting for the job to be finished. I noticed some more new work being started and that was the shelter for the hand pump at the well. Manolo showed me the drawings on a piece of cardboard box and the shelter included a bench as part of the structure. I was pleased that he had understood my main intention that this should be a social meeting place, so important for the life of a village.

 Taking the bull by the horns I drew what I called a Spanish wash house that I’d seen in the Alpujarras on my visit to my Grandparents in Andalucia. Manolo laughed when he realised what I was drawing and whipped the pencil out of my hand sharpened it and finished off the sketch in my notebook. He was a far better artist and even drew a woman at the washboard. In the roof structure he added thin beams and hung clothes from them. I tore out the sheet and handed it too him and he stuck it on a nail. He then asked me about the location of this structure and I tried to tell him that the villagers would have to choose and I would lead the water to it. I had some difficulty in making him understand and he turned and sent one of the boys off on an errand. After a while Alfredo turned up with Pedro and I was able to get him to pass on my request and told him again that to tell Manolo that I would find the funds for it. After much discussion, sucking of teeth and waving of arms, Alfredo explained that the decision for this was going to be left to the elders of the village. The tinsmith had finished the water tank and the boys harnessed up the mule, tied the buckets of plants onto the bowser and we all trooped off to the well.

At the well I had wished we had got the jeep and brought the pump. Instead we had to fill the buckets and haul them up to tip them in the hatch at the top of the tank. I got Rafa to count the bucket loads by marking the ground with a stick in groups of five. It took a while with Manolo, Alfredo and myself, taking turns on the hand pump whilst Manolo’s man hauled and tipped the buckets up and tipped them down the hatch. At sixty we stopped and dipped the tank. Half full was the shout as Manolo and the tinsmith checked for leaks and marked bits that needed further attention. We set off again with the mule pulling the bowser and a whole crowd of villagers, mainly kids, followed in procession to our little field. They stood at the perimeter and watched our every move as we planted the Aloe Vera and gave each plant a good soaking with a bucket of water and then a little more to use up the rest in the bowser. Manolo wanted the bowser back to patch up some more leaks and adjust the harness.

Carmella arrived leading a horse and inspected our field. I showed her the row of plants that had simply been stuck into the ground with no preparation other then a bucket of water being poured over them. She then told me that since I had finished she was going to teach me to ride. I baulked at the idea but had to mount the huge horse and try and look relaxed. With much unintelligible encouragement from the boys I managed to get the thing in gear and we rode up and down the field perimeter with Carmella trying to get me to follow the rhythm of the horse’s gait. After an hour or so Carmella called a halt and I was glad to dismount and feel terra firma again. She told me that after lunch we were going to ride out into the nearby mountains and she was going to show me the fabulous rock formations there and I was to bring my camera.

We cleared up our equipment from the field and took it back to the store. There I had a second look at the pump and wondered if we could somehow fix it to the water bowser. I drew a sketch of the back of the water bowser as the boys looked on then I pointed to the pump and gestured that it could be fixed to the back. I think they understood and we trooped off to Manolo, for me, with the help of the boys, to try to explain what I was after. After long discussions with lots of pointing and gesticulation Manolo understood, took my notepad and pencil and sketched exactly what I wanted, a shelf at the back and underneath the tank of the bowser to hold the pump. He drew me standing on the bowser with the hose filling the tank. We all laughed and the boys wanted Manolo to draw them on the sketch with me which he duly did in more caricature style. We all laughed and others appeared and also joined in the fun. 

He was a very accomplished artist and I had in mind to get him a proper sketch pad and pencils so that he could do some sketches of the village and villagers for my own record. The sketch was stuck on a nail and I sat on a bench with the boys and watched craftsmen at work as they put finishing touches to the windlass gantry which was now embellished with carvings and Manolo’s name carved prominently on one of the supports. The whole thing had been transformed into a work of art. Everybody who saw the construction at a wellhead would be impressed and hopefully contract Manolo for other works.  

Chapter 13

After lunch Carmella brought round the horses to my cabin and I gingerly mounted. I was taken aback how attractive Carmella looked. I hadn’t taken much notice of the boss especially when she was giving me a hard time. She had her hair up and topped with a black Picasso’s ‘Tio Pepe’ style hat, a white long sleeved shirt with a red neckerchief. Grey riding pants tucked into brown shiny leather boots. It all certainly required more than a second look. I did a quick mental calculation of her age and came to a happy conclusion we were probably the same age, particularly since I had spent a couple of years with VSO and a gap year bumming around India.

  We slowly rode off towards the water troughs where we allowed them to drink their fill. A couple of men were manhandling the third trough into place and digging the foundations for the fourth. We shouted ‘Adios’ and rode off towards the hills as Carmella urged me to relax and enjoy myself.      

“Tell me honestly Paulo, why were you sent here all the way from England? To close us down or spy on us?”

“You will have to believe me Carmella but I wasn’t sent here for that.”

“Then why did they send you?”

“Beats me! It may have something to do with me upsetting Dragon Delores on my first day. I parked my rust bucket in her space and you know how that goes down with our hierarchy?”

“But you said they gave you the Aloe Vera file as your first job. Isn’t that so?”

“Yeah but even my section leader commiserated with me. It’s been given out before to ones Delores disliked and they quickly got the message and left. I got my head down below the parapet and slaved away looking for an angle. I wrote up an interim report concluding that enough was enough and the next thing she sends me out here.”

“But she must have given you a brief, orders or instructions?”

“No nothing, just carry on the good work, so I swatted up on cultivation of the damn thing. Read all the boring papers I could find on the subject. You could say I’m a technical expert on Aloe Vera without actually seeing the plant in real life. Crazy!”

“So what did you think when you first came out?”

“I thought you were all suspicious of me for no good reason and were going to make my life hell.”

“Sorry about that but we were suspicious and had every good reason to be. You saw the state of our crop, especially when Pablo inadvertently showed you the healthy villager’s crop. He told us about the look on your face.”

“How is it you got into this? Pablo tells me you’ve only been here two years or so.”

“That’s right. I was appointed to put the place to rights after the Company sent a hatchet man to get rid of the last boss.”

“So you thought I was sent to get rid of you?”

“Of course I did, particularly when you sent your demands for the soil and water testing equipment. What else could we think? I didn’t know at that time it was a hobby of yours to test wells and soil.”

“Sorry Carmella but since I didn’t know what I really was being sent out to do I thought I might as well occupy myself testing soil conditions and water. What was the other fellow doing to get the boot?”

“Fernando was firstly a drunkard and secondly lazy. The villagers were supposed to water our fields with well water using that old bowser. Instead they watered their own crops. Ours were dying off whilst theirs were flourishing so the drunken old sod bought up their crops to keep production going. As you can imagine the costs became astronomical and I was sent down to correct the problem. The first year I was here, there was a drought and the well dried up so the villagers wouldn’t allow the company to draw water from the well. I then had the bore hole dug and for the first two seasons the crops flourished and I put the limit on the amount we bought from the villagers. That’s why they were so pleased you re-instated the bowser. They think that we will let them water their crops with it and buy all their production.”

“Didn’t you know that the water from the bore hole was saline?”

“Of course I did. Do you take me for such a fool? I knew that Aloe Vera was salt tolerant and for the first two seasons the crops did flourish but I didn’t realise we were just building up a problem like this so quickly.”

“Was this the first time your product was rejected?”

“No, but we were careful to mix it with the villagers stuff and got away with it.”

“You couldn’t have gone on fooling them much longer though?”

“Well, I told the villagers that you were coming to shut the place down unless we could draw water from their well. When you came and made the fuss over the water, we just let you get on and do our stuff for us hopefully. It’s turned out better than we all expected so you can take that smug look off your face, you were being used. Sorry about that but you have achieved a result for us that we never hoped for. We now can tap into their water and share our own with them. Just look how magnanimous we will look in their eyes. You have done us a great favour.”

“Shit! And there I was doing my World Aid act thinking it was all my doing, and you had worked it all out before. Was your aggressive attack on me just a sham?”

“Oh no, that was for real. At the time we didn’t know of your ability or experience. Thinking aloud, did Delores know of your water divining skills when she sent you?”

“I doubt it. I didn’t shout it out from the roof tops. They knew I spent a year or so on VSO but not the detail.”

“Do you mind me asking why you joined the company in the first place?”

“You can but don’t laugh. I wanted to do a higher degree, MA or PhD and in their blurb they offered access to research into more obscure topics. I got Aloe Vera which the Romans and Greeks had already researched to death. I was on a dead end trail and everybody in the department knew it. I was the butt of everyone’s jokes so being sent out here was somewhat of a relief. I didn’t even query the motive.”

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire!”

“Exactly, except I was too tired and jetlagged in the first few days, to take too much notice of your jibes. You probably thought me quite a fool.”

“We were suspicious and if we could pull the wool over your eyes we did except you came up trumps.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Exactly what you suggested but we will tap into your well water source and use that. If the well runs dry we will blame you when you have gone, that’s all.”

“Well I must say this has been a ‘grow up’ phase of my life. I must be very naïve.” 

“I wouldn’t say that but expertly manipulated!”

“Thanks, when do we reach this spectacular scenery you were taking about or are you taking me into the desert to shoot me and let the vultures clean my bones?”

“Sorry to disappoint you but nothing like that. Just over the rise there we can dismount and you can get some circulation back into your legs. Don’t forget your camera.”

We dismounted and hobbled the horses so they wouldn’t stray and followed a gulley downwards which narrowed to a deep canyon or gorge. We followed it for two or three hundred meters when around a sharp bend it suddenly opened into a spectacular open bowl which was wide enough to be lit up by the sun. The colours of the rocks were just fantastic. I just stood there open mouthed and gazed in wonderment. All previous bad thoughts just disappeared and there I was in some place approaching the splendour of Petra but without any man made intrusions. It was wonderful.

“OK you can close your mouth now and take your pictures before the light changes. This is the best time to view.” I took over fifty shots, changed my camera chip and then took loads more. “OK, Lord Snowdon, now go and take a real look at the surfaces and structures of the rock.” Sure enough, I opened my eyes and started to look at how the wind erosion had smoothed the rock in places and in others created fine ridges between deep hollows of softer rock. I looked and felt amazed by the place.

“This is fantastic. How did you find it?”

“It’s very well-known spot around here. Not many people come because it used to be an old burial site of the local Indians moons ago and the locals think it’s haunted. When the light goes down its quite spooky and just listen to the echo, it reverberates for ages and changes its tone. The local say it’s the spirits, talking back to you.”

“Thanks for bringing me here. It’s fantastic. Does it extend any further?”

“It’s a honey comb of deep gorges and canyons here but this is the most dramatic place. Come on let’s get out of here and onto a high spot where we can see the maze of canyons from the top.” We climbed out, found our horses and rode higher.

We reached a steep rocky slope, too steep for the horse and went to the top of the crag on foot. The view from the top looking down onto the branching canyons was amazing and I took more photos and then spent another half an hour viewing the scene through a pair of binoculars as Carmella sat back and occasionally pointed out interesting landmarks and crags.

“Look, look down there Paulo,” she shouted as she gripped my arm and pointed down the crag. I followed her arm and couldn’t see what she was pointing at and getting so excited. “Look Paulo down there in that cleft there is a large cactus with a red flower. Can you see it?” 

“I can see it now. What is it?” I asked focusing my binoculars and increasing the magnification. “I can see it clearly now, all spiky. Look I can see something moving amongst the spikes. They look like mice.”

“Mexican shrews we call them. They seem to live quite happily on that type of cactus and actually nest inside.”

“Do you know what kind they are?”

“The locals have different names for them. The favourite is loosely translated as ‘Mother-in-laws spite or poison.’ The local Indians used to tip their arrows with those spines which contain poison that could paralyse most animals. They are highly dangerous and people have died from the poisoning inflicted by those spines. Good job they only grow in these inaccessible places.”

“Have you seen them close to Carmella?”

“Only when some botanist brought a specimen to show. He died of some allergy which the doctors put down to poisoning, probably from this source.”

“That sounds a bit grim!” I replied shuddering.

“That’s an idea of how we could get rid of you. Get you to study the deadly cactus for your PhD and you would be eventually poisoned. No one would blame us. Only joking Paulo. Don’t look so serious. Come on let’s get back to more of the chilli you and Pablo like. By the way, where did you learn to eat hot stuff like that? We asked the girls to put extra chilli in your portion, without you adding any more. We expected you to have a heart attack not Pablo who foolishly took up your challenge. His was only half as hot as yours even when he topped it up with extra powder.”

“Miss-spent youth I’m afraid. Have you ever had an Indian Vindaloo?”

“No but I’ve heard that Indian food can be hot.”

“Well the Vindaloo is an English creation; I think made especially for students after a good night out on the town. It was one of my student specialities that I constructed for competitions with my Mexican flat mate. Each of us had to make a dish, eat half and challenge the partner to finish it. It was painful but I lined my alimentary canal with concrete and usually won. Poor Pablo, I feel really sorry for him, well not really.”

Chapter 14

Next morning I was up early and the women in the dining room were waiting for me with a breakfast of coffee and rough pancakes with black molasses. The boys were also ready for me at the store with the mule harnessed to the bowser. They helped me to attach the pump to the shelf, engineered by Manolo and the mule dragged the whole thing over to the well. I attached the well pipe to the pump and I started the engine whilst the boys held the mules head so that it wouldn’t be frightened and bolt at the noise. After much priming the pump started to gurgle and water flowed out of the outlet pipe which one of the boys took up to the tank making sure he drenched most of us in the process. I turned up the pump to full power and in fraction of the time taken the previous day Pedro was shouting to stop. I reconnected the hand pump and the mule obediently dragged the bowser to our field. It had become ‘Our Field,’ not anybody else’s’.

I showed the boys how I wanted the water measuring out into the buckets and that we were to progressively reduce the amount of water down the line. They were puzzled so I had to fill the first bucket to the line I had marked and Pedro poured it into the black pipe using the funnel and down hopefully soaking the waste. The second plant got the same treatment with the water soaking the earth at the base. The third and fourth plant got less as I decanted some water out with a mug and marked the level and so on until the last pair of plants hardly got a mug-full. For the second line of plants I tapped into the bore-hole supply and we mixed the water two parts well to one part bore. The third line was half and half, the fourth line was two part bore and one part well water. The last two lines were easy. One with pure bore water and the last with pure well water but that line had the water poured over the surface without any black pipe. This took longer than I thought but it would be quicker next day since the boys now understood what the experiment was all about.

We next went to the well in the village and I drew a sample to test, back at my cabin and let the boys play with the microscope. I made the up a number of slides containing blood and other smears that they could look at and see live monsters moving before them. The water sample was clear and I was about to think about telling the villagers that they could use the water when I remembered it had to be Blessed on the Sunday. I left it at that and just put a reminder in my note book to check the water on Saturday night. I didn’t want any surprises. I was well versed into dirty tricks some people could play to denigrate the English man. I then thought about what Carmella had said about the cactus we had seen. I checked on the computer and found the species that had been given a Latin name but little else on it other than it was highly poisonous and should be handled with great care. I pondered if this could be my research project. I had little to do here other than water some plants so I thought I would investigate the dangerous cactus more and see if it could be turned into a research study. As a bio chemist I was intrigued by the poisonous quality of the spines. These natural compounds could often be turned to some good use in a potent drug used in the correct minute quantity of course. I would sound out Carmella at dinner.

Next morning I was awoken by a loud snorting outside my cabin. I jumped out from beneath the mosquito net and opened the door to investigate. Outside was Miguel with the horse I had used yesterday. He saw me and pointed to the reins then to me. So now I was the proud owner of my own transport. I signalled that I would be out after shower and dressing and Miguel sat patiently on the veranda step holding the reins. I mounted the horse and leant down and pulled Miguel up behind me and rode off for breakfast. He wouldn’t come in with me but insisted on holding the reins and waiting for me. I wolfed down my breakfast and we were off to the well head where the mule and water bowser were already waiting. I provided my horse with a bucket of water but it just sniffed it and ignored it. The mule, on the other hand, drank it down in one draught which satisfied me that the water was still OK.

 The watering of the plants took no time. The boys took a row each and the only waiting was for the funnel that had to be shared. I would have to find some more or get Manolo to make me some wooded ones. I inspected the plants and found them all in good health and wondered when we would see any changes, positive or negative. I would expect some impact in four days or so of my variable watering programme.

Chapter 15

Sunday still saw me up early and watering the plants with the boys and we did it in quick time because they were anxious to get back to the village and help with the preparations. The day started at about ten with the priest saying mass then the procession to the well which meant going around the inner perimeter of the village a few times and the ceremonial pumping of the water. Everything and everyone got a good dousing with holy water followed by more prayers, chants and responses. All were in their best clothes and the men looked hot and most uncomfortable in their jackets and waistcoats. At noon everyone retired for a siesta, only the men assigned to the barbeque were left in the heat of both sun and fire, roasting two goats on a spit. I assumed that the women were back home preparing foods, chilli and various accompaniments. Canvas tarpaulins had been set up to provide some shade. I presume tables and chairs would be brought out later. 

 At about three the proceedings were started with another procession and more dousing of all with holy water including the goats on the spit for whom, I thought it was a bit too late. Tables were brought out and some men formed a band of a couple of guitars, a violinist and a trumpeter. They made a loud and noisy contribution to the day. The priest and the Company Management including yours truly were ushered to the top table and the food was brought to us. The rest of the villagers just made their own way around the various pots and platters and helped themselves. The rather red faced barbequers suddenly announced that the goats were ready and the priest had to go through another ritual of blessing the meat. A roast leg suddenly appeared on a platter on our table and the priest took it on himself to carve off a piece with a wicked looking knife, bite a chunk and signal that the meat was good. We didn’t get a squeak out of him as he attacked his food with gusto, washed down with lots of rough red wine. I tried a bit of goat but it was tough and settled on the chilli and various roasted vegetables.

 The women all had made a pot of chilli to their own recipe and I had the task of tasting each and pronouncing which was the best. I was hoping that I might be spared the task of choosing but Carmella came to my aid by telling me to announce that all were very good and as an Englishman I wouldn’t be able to distinguish. Pablo translated what I said rather more lucidly than necessary and certainly got more laughs, probably at my expense. A noisy Mexican Mariachi band turned up from the nearby town and the fiesta went on into the night with singing and dancing and more eating and drinking. The priest was soon asleep, leaning on our table and was completely oblivious to the noise around him. A number of the older men joined the priest in his slumber and the party just carried on around them. The food and drink just kept appearing miraculously. Five loaves and fishes came to mind. Don’t remember much about returning to my cabin that night.

Chapter 16

On Monday morning I had slept through my alarm clock and was rudely awoken by Anita shaking my leg and shouting Paulo. Miguel was outside waiting patiently with the horse. Anita saved the day by bringing me a mug of coffee and some fresh bread rolls whilst I showered and shaved in double quick time. By the time Miguel and I had ridden up to the well, Pablo had set the pump off and the bowser was filling. Pablo shook his head and was off in his jeep in a cloud of dust. The watering was more methodical that morning but completed with care and we all inspected the plants hoping to see some differences but all seemed healthy and surviving well.

I told the boys I would be busy for the rest of the day and they wandered off looking somewhat disappointed. I couldn’t take them all and I certainly didn’t want to take them too close to the poisonous cactus. I picked up my equipment, mainly a camera with a long lens, notebooks and my GPS unit and rode to the plantation area to tell Carmella what I was going to do. She warned me again to be careful and I explained that I would only be taking photographs and observing through my binoculars. In the rising heat I rode slowly towards the hills and crags I had visited with Carmella previously. This time I concentrated on the crags and inaccessible places and there were plenty to choose from. With the aid of the GPS I drew a rudimentary map and took photos so that I would be able to draw a fairly decent map of the terrain.

 I was soon rewarded with the sight of my first quarry. Rather small but protruding from a crevice high up in the crag. I observed it through my binoculars, took a few pictures with my long lens and determined its position with the aid of my GPS. I was pleased to sight five more that day and decided to call it a day. I made a mental note to explore the area to the East the following day which had a long ridge of crags which looked promising sites. I got back in time for lunch and spent the afternoon writing up my notes on the laptop and transferring pictures and mapping data. I felt quite pleased with my beginning.

The following day was more fruitful with sightings of some nineteen specimens of various sizes and also observing the antics of the devil mice or shrews that lived inside the cacti. I assumed that there was some mutual benefit of these mice and cacti living together in harmony. The best moment was when I spotted one in flower. It was too far away to see clearly but the flower was large and growing out on a sort of bud. The colouring was a spectacular crimson with white fronds. The following day brought similar results and by now I had a clear understanding where the specimens could be found. I looked for the most inaccessible places, the most unlikely positions for plant life and there was a live cactus to be seen. I couldn’t work out why any plant would choose such an inhospitable site. It just didn’t stand to any reason or logic. There was little water and even less soil in these places but they seemed to attract these blighters.

Wednesday was ‘D-day.’ I was working a wide canyon when suddenly my nostrils were attacked by pungent smell of goats, probably the vilest and strongest smell of any animal. I moved further up the slope in an attempt to catch some breeze and sweet air. Suddenly a piercing whistle and a shout echoed around the canyon and I saw a goatherd waving to me. It would be churlish to ignore him and I steeled myself and scrambled down towards him. I only hoped he smelled better than the goats! 

“What are you doing here?” he greeted me in a deep voice with a strong American accent.

“Hello there. I didn’t expect to meet anybody in this area,” I replied, asking, “Are you American?”

“No, I’m truly Mexican but I’ve spent many years in the lousy fields of California earning a crust. Where are you from?”

“I’m working at the Aloe Vera farm back there and I’m just exploring the area,” I said shaking his hand. “Do you need any water,” I asked offering a plastic bottle.

“No thanks I’ve got plenty plus milk on the hoof. Your English aren’t you?”

“I’m afraid so. I suppose I stick out like a sore thumb?”

“Too true but don’t get lost around here. The canyons can be quite puzzling.”

“I’m OK thanks. I’m mapping as I go along and I’ve got my GPS which tracks my progress.”

“Clever stuff but you’re way away from the really interesting scenery. Do you know that?”

“Yes I do and I’ve been shown the fabulous canyons and caves over yonder,” I replied pointing over to the West. “I’m actually interested in a rare cactus which hides in the cliffs around here.”

“Not the devil’s cactus. It’s been around here for centuries. The Indians here worshiped it for its various properties especially its poison. Tipped their arrows with it and could down their prey just by scratching the skin of an animal. No need to be accurate. Just point a lot of arrows in the direction of an animal and you’re bound to scratch one.”

“What other properties has it got?” I asked rather interested.

“Well the local Indians used the poison for various medicines, watered down of course. I’ve got Indian blood in me, that’s why this wilderness has such a draw on me. Couldn’t stand California so made some money and came back here and set up as a goat herd. Can’t beat the life here. Now the best thing about this cactus is that it’s edible. Quite yummy!”

“But how do you get over the poison?”

“Have you seen the red flowers? Wonderful display they make. Now when they go over and turn a brownish colour they send out clouds of seeds, millions of them and they scatter all over. When it rains as it does occasionally, then you get carpets of them around here. That’s the time to be out here. All the animals, leopards, foxes, hares, wolves, mice and all the birds gather around here and wolf them down. Far more interested in the cacti than their natural prey around them. You get hawks next to mice and leopards next to rabbits. It’s quite amazing. I graze my goats on the stuff when I can.”

“Aren’t they poisonous then?”

“Aren’t you listening? When they are small and before their spines develop they are just scrumptious. I love them and eat my fill when I can, raw or in stews. The local Indian used to cultivate them. They would get a ripe flower head, sow the seed and water. Hey presto, they had a mass of these beautiful darlings.”

“Are they grown by the local around here?”

“No fear, the poison rightly frightens them off and the cactus is linked in folklore to the devil, no doubt to keep people away.”

“So that’s why they are only found in inaccessible places.”

“You got it in one. Any within reach are just gobbled up. Actually makes me feel hungry. Fancy some goat cheese. Swap some for your bread if you have any. Don’t get much of that in my diet.”

“Here have it all. Only two buns I’m afraid. How do you survive around here and where do you live?”

“It’s a bit precarious as you can imagine. I have a cave there up in the hills where there is a trickle of water, an old Indian settlement. Apart from goats, I repair engines and things, learned it in California on the farms. Keeps me in luxuries. Sorry must go, the goats are spreading out too much.”

“Great to meet you, I’m Paulo by the way. If you get to the farm call in and see me.”

“Will do. I’m Fernando and if you come across my cave then call in. There’s always beers cooling in the water deposit. Help yourself. Must go, these buggers find any excuse to wander off and get lost if I don’t keep an eye. Mind yourself and don’t get close to that devil cactus. It will kill you! See yah!” With that he was off chasing his herd but the pong still hung in the air so I decided to wander off in a different direction, up wind. I had learnt more in a few minutes than all the information on the internet.

Chapter 16

The next four days were much the same with lots of sightings but I didn’t find Fernando’s cave and his supply of cool beer which was a shame. I hoped to meet him again and quiz him more. Riding the horse allowed me to cover great distances quite comfortably and I was even becoming an accomplished rider in the Mexican way with the horse just ambling along at a steady pace. No cantering or galloping for me yet. The mapping was coming on and I had a good idea of the terrain for a couple of square miles. I had marked the location of my finds and only came to the same conclusion; ‘inaccessibility’ was the key word. Each evening, at dinner, I recounted my day which was getting quite similar but they seemed to want to know. They all seemed happier that I was occupied with something else than getting under their feet. Through Pablo I ordered some money from my UN account and paid off various workers and replaced the stores that I had used. It wasn’t much but hard cash went a long way around here in a subsistence life and a barter economy.

I decided to get more adventurous and get closer to the devil cactus. I started taking a sack containing a rope, my stout gloves and my set of pliers I was determined to get close and break off some spines and maybe get some seeds. My mission now was to find a cactus located somewhere where it was accessible by rock climbing up to or abseiling down to. A few opportunities presented themselves but I chickened out at the last moment because I had little head for heights and the exposure factor was too great. I kept these disappointments to myself. Eventually I spied a cactus on a ledge which could be reached by suspending a rope down from above and then climbing up with the aid of an attached rope. I felt safer and got to the ledge beside the plant and was able to take some great photos and then had the courage to pick off some spines with the aid of my pliers and gloves being extra careful. It all took a long time because at the end of it all I had to climb up to the top of the crag to free the rope. It was hot and tiring work. Each day I seemed to take more and more water. At least the horse could rest in the shade of the canyon sides but I was out in the fierce heat most of the day. 

One day I spied a cactus in flower and the wind was blowing the seed about in clouds. The seeds were so small that it was impossible to see or gather any. I was quite frustrated that day and finished early. The quest for seeds was getting to me and I was losing interest in the watering of our plot and was doing it mechanically. The boys would come around in the evening and I would show them the maps and photographs I had taken. They were most interested in the animals and birds of prey I had captured at close quarters. They were most intrigued at the bits of video I had taken of the devil mice that lived in the cactus. It kept them amused for ages. I would occasionally check my Email but there was little if nothing from headquarters back home and I felt abandoned, not that I minded. I was quite content with my own little project and wondered how I could swing it to extend my stay. I couldn’t find any worthwhile reason and that my time here was soon to end, I was more than determined to get some seeds so I could grow my own specimens in comfort.

I was becoming more adventurous in my quest and did a few foolish clambering things which left me shaking. Eventually I spied a cactus in bloom where the flowers were obviously turning. I spent the rest of the day determining how I could get to it safely and more importantly get my flower head. I eventually came up with a plan involving two ropes and a pulley that would swing me into position. That would be for the next day when I had all the equipment. The following day I arrived quite excited and set up my ropes trying to take account of the sag. It took some time and eventually I got close enough to the cactus to have a go at the flower head. With sticks I managed to get a sack over the head and then with enormous problems I endeavoured to try and saw the head off with a wood saw tied to a stick. I didn’t realise the problem of cutting and swinging on a rope. As I pushed the saw it seemed to stick and all I was doing was swinging away from it. 

Eventually I got a regular swinging motion going and got the saw to do its work the only thought was that the rope I was relying on was getting chaffed at the top against the rocks. The flower head fell off and was caught in the sack and I was able to pull it up with the rope attached. I carefully lowered myself to a safe spot and took my trophy and tied it to the horse feeling quite elated, only to remember I had a lot of scrambling to do yet to take down my rope contraption. When I got back I immediately studied some seeds under the microscope and made up plenty of slides for the future. I stored the head in an airy box so the head would mature and release its bounty of seeds. I felt that a weight had suddenly been taken off my shoulders. Even the diners that evening noticed that I was more cocky than usual. I didn’t dare tell them of my exploits. That was to be my secret.

The next day I decided just to explore and try and find Fernando and his cave of beer. I followed many canyons, mapping as I went with plenty signs of goats but each cave I spotted was totally uninhabited. I didn’t care since I was covering a greater area with my mapping and found some really interesting rock formations. I sat down for a rest in the shade of a canyon wall when I spotted a flowering cactus high up on the opposite wall. What caught my eye was the number of birds of prey hovering around it. First time I had seen a sight like that. I observed that next to it was another cactus that had fallen or broken off. It had changed colour from bright green to brownish and that’s why I hadn’t spotted it straight away. I wondered what the birds were doing overhead when one suddenly pounced and rose gripping a devil mouse in its talons. It was soon attacked by the others trying to pinch its game. The flock flew out of sight so I concentrated on observing the fallen, brown cactus when I noticed a mouse appear and behave strangely. I’m sure it was drunk or at least that’s what it looked like. It seemed to sway and keep missing its hold on the cactus. It suddenly disappeared as a pair of talons swept it away for another aerial battle. The dying cactus insides must have fermented and the mice had been imbibing on a cocktail of Devil’s Vodka, as I christened it in my mind. It reminded me that I needed a drink and a cool beer would be welcome from the goatherds store if I could only find his cave.

I slowly descended down the scree slope, trying to avoid dislodging any boulders and starting a rock slide. I decided to scramble down the edge where there were firm rocks protruding through the boulder field. To steady myself I grabbed onto a rock and it suddenly gave way as all of my weight was supported on it. No problem as I fell over sideways to cushion the fall or so I thought. Before I could get up and brush myself down I found the rocks under me sliding down the slope at increasing pace. I just slid with the rocks hoping that they would quickly come to a stop but quickly realised that the pace was picking up and I would have to get to terra firma at the side of the slope and away from the avalanche. Easier said than done! There was no purchase on the small sliding rocks and I resigned myself to the free ride hoping that larger rocks wouldn’t start falling from up above. All was well until I came across a protruding rock which I grabbed and arrested my slide. I managed to grab it with both hands and heaved myself off the slide and stepped behind the shelter of the protrusion.

 Disaster struck as I put my foot on the ledge and felt a sharp and painful scratch on my right calf. I moved it quickly away and after feeling for some safer footing I looked down and saw I had grazed my leg on a devil’s cactus growing from a cleft. The spines had penetrated through the trouser leg as I quickly picked them out and rolled up my trouser leg to inspect the damage. It didn’t look too good. I counted at least seven pin pricks where the spines had entered the flesh by the specks of blood on my calf. I couldn’t see or feel any protruding spines so I tried to squeeze the flesh to get more blood out. I tried to contort myself to no avail in an attempt to suck the blood out of the wounds. Couldn’t reach however I tried. The slide had stopped by now and the dust cloud was settling.

 First thought was to try and get some help but the signal on the cell phone was non-existent. I composed a text message saying I had been scratched by a devil’s cactus and gave my position according to the GPS unit and that I needed immediate help. I sent it to as many people as I could and then decided to climb up to the top of the low hill opposite in anticipation of a finding a signal there.

The final climb down was laborious and painful. I could feel the leg throbbing and going numb. The climb up the opposite hill was quite mild by comparison but I felt very tired and weak. As I broached the brow of the hill I heard the welcome note of the cell phone sending the message. I had a signal. There was no point wandering off having given my position so I decided to help the search party by lighting a fire and sending up some smoke. The rubber on my boot should smoke nicely so I filled the boot up with torn paper from my notebook plus some matches and for good measure I inserted my plastic lighter which I assumed would fuel the blaze. That was a disaster because as soon as the paper was nicely lit the lighter exploded and shot all the ignitable material stuffed in the boot in my direction. I patted out the sparks on my clothing quickly and in shock and noticed that the boot was in fact burning and sending up a thin wispy column of smoke. By this time I was trembling all over and couldn’t even hold my cell phone. The only thing I managed to do was to have a drink of water from my bottle, spilling most of it and drag myself to a rock to lean against and adjust my sombrero for maximum shade to my face. I then must have passed out. I don’t remember any more.

Chapter 17

“Paulo! Paulo!”

“Mother, why are you calling ‘Paulo’? I’m Paul. Only Grandpa in Spain calls me Paulo.”

“Paulo, its Carmella! Are you awake? Can you hear me Paulo?”

“Mother, your hands are so soft. Haven’t you been gardening? Dad always said you should wear gloves. Mother why is it so dark? Please draw the curtains. It’s very warm here.”

“It’s Carmella, Paulo. Are you awake? Can you understand what I am saying?”

“Carmella? Of course I know you. Why am I in bed? I feel very feeble. What’s happened to me?”

“Paulo, don’t you remember? You were poisoned by a devil’s cactus and you’ve been in and out of hospital for the last six weeks. Don’t you remember anything Paulo?”

“I remember a rockslide then climbing up to the top of a hill and sending you all a text message. I remember burning my boot to create smoke and an explosion. So you found me then?”

“Pablo found you and we rushed you to hospital. We thought you were going to die. You’ve had lots of blood transfusions. You’ve been delirious for about six weeks now.”

“What! Six weeks! I don’t remember anything.”

“That’s good Paulo. You are now on the mend. We need to feed you up so you can get your strength back and then get on your feet.”

“I feel very thirsty. Can I have something to drink please?”

“Sure thing Paulo but you now have to eat something then the doctor has prescribed a sleeping draft so that you can sleep peacefully and get some proper rest. You’ve spent the last six weeks writhing in pain and delirium. Anita, the boys and I have been looking after you.”

“Thanks Carmella. Sorry for being so much trouble to you all.”

“We were all very worried about you. I’m glad you pulled through. Now drink this milk and Anita has some soup for you then you can sleep properly and then we can talk more.”

“How do you feel now Paulo? You’ve had twelve hours of calm sleep for the first time.”

“Feel much better Carmella. Less tense but I feel very weak. I can hardly move my legs.”

“You need to eat Paulo and your strength will come back. If we can sit you up Anita has some food for you. The boys have massaged your legs and arms daily and moved them about to keep them from withering away. You will have to start doing some gentle exercise and in a week we may be able to get you out of bed and walking.”

“How did you find me Carmella? Was it the smoke?”

“Pablo and the boys took the jeep and the rest of us followed on horseback. We knew approximately the area where you were since you always told us whereabouts you were going that day.”

“Did Pablo see the smoke?”

“Paulo, Pablo saw the vultures circling above you. That’s how we found you so quickly.”  

“Carmella, you’re holding my hand, that’s nice.”

“We all held your hand; it calmed you down, made you relax.”

“Thanks, I must have been a burden to you all.”

“Anita used to say ‘No more than a baby’. We had to use giant sized diapers.”

“Diapers? Ah yes, we called them nappies in England.”

“Hopefully now you will be able to manage the toilet by yourself. Give you some gentle exercise. Will be good for you. Now eat this mild bean dish. You need to build up your strength. I’ll come back and talk to you later. The boys will look after you.”

“Carmella! Who shaved me?”

“I did Paulo with a cutthroat razor that Pablo gave me. Got to be a dab hand with it. The boys held your head and I executed the surgery. You’ve still got both ears and a nose. Now eat up and I’ll be back later.”

“Carmella I have lots of questions for you.”

“I anticipated that Paulo but let’s not talk about your illness. Let me tell you what’s been happening whilst you’ve been on your forced vacation. Your experimental plot was looked after by Pablo and the boys and its come up with some conclusive results so you should be pleased. We can mix the saline bore water with two parts of the well water and the Aloe Vera thrives. We don’t get well water now, since we have our own bore hole, tapping into the sweet water. We have now opened up a new field and incorporated some of your ideas to be more efficient with the water. We have pipes down the field from the deposit and each plant has a thin pipe to its roots, a dribbler, so we don’t lose any water through evaporation. Also we prepared the planting hole for each pipe with a mixture of waste and clay to hold the water better.”

“That’s an improvement on my idea. Where did you get the clay from?”

“Plenty about in the cliffs. We just dug it out and trucked it over.”

“Did anybody from the UN come?”

“Yeh, and that was a pain. He wanted to know why you were asking for well money when each house was supplied with water until we gave him a glass to drink. He was impressed with the wash house that you designed and took lots of photographs. After that he paid everybody and asked if he could bring other people to see what we have done here. Oh, he also said that the UN would pay and arrange to get you back home but we said we would look after you.”

“Did anybody from UNESCO come about the education?”

“Now that’s a story and a half. A whole delegation came out with the local Minister of Education in tow. The upshot is that they are going to fund a village school and a teacher. They are also going to provide adult education for those that want it. The teacher is already here teaching the kids and the school house is being built. The villagers are all excited and have been praying for you and sending little presents.”

“Anything from the ranch? Dragon Delores?”

“Ah, now we come onto the bad news. Sorry Paulo but they’ve given you the push I’m afraid. You’ve been made redundant with a three months’ pay off from the time the doctor here discharges you. That won’t be for a month or so unless you want to get back home earlier.”

“Do you know, that’s a relief, I didn’t feel I was getting anywhere with them, until I came here of course.”

“You know how to flatter Mr. Paulo but I’m also fed up with them too and I’m going to look for another appointment or even take a year off.”

“You can always come to Europe Carmella. I would be very happy to show you around.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse. But Paulo something more important I have to tell you. Whilst you were ill your mother contacted me and told me your Grandfather in Spain has passed away. Your Grandmother has gone back to live in England. He’s left you the property in Spain and some money.”

“That’s sad. I was very fond of the old man. He used to make me work like a slave whenever I went out there to visit. Learned a lot from him about irrigation and growing things in a dry environment. I’ll miss him. I’ll have to take you there. It will be like home from home for you Carmella.”

“I should like that Paulo, but you will have to get much better and regain your strength first.”

“I like the way you hold my hand Carmella. It is very calming.”

“Sorry Paulo, it’s got to be a habit. You can let go.”

“I’d rather not Carmella. It feels safer that way.”

Chapter 18

 My strength recovered quite quickly but my limbs needed a lot of exercise having withered away during my coma. Carmella spent a lot of time with me chatting and I even got her to continue holding my hand and even shaving me though in the light of day it did seem rather dangerous especially the way Latinos express themselves with their arms waving everywhere. She admitted that she felt partially responsible for my accident having introduced me to the Devil’s Cactus in the first place. I checked my Emails and found them mainly personal apart from the one from the Company’s Personnel department outlining my terms of redundancy and rehabilitation to the UK. A note of commiseration from my section leader who absolved himself from the decision but offered to write any reference I needed.

 I was sad about my Grandpa and was somewhat amused by the fact that he had left me the Spanish property. He also left a considerable amount of money to me, enough for me to take a few years off work, if I wanted to travel again. Mum said I should return home as soon as possible and also to consider what I wanted to do with the Spanish farm. No one in the family wanted the responsibility for it. This somewhat sealed my fate in that it became attractive for me to go there and convalesce whilst considering my options.

With the help of the local doctor I decided to be rehabilitated home but I would definitely need a nurse to accompany me, to look after my welfare. Glad to be shot of me, the Company agreed and I booked two business class tickets from Monterry to Madrid via Mexico City for Carmella, my nurse and myself. Goodbyes were not easy since I had grown fond of the people here. I promised to return and send them regular postcards. We had a grand party a few days before we left where I again supplied the two goats, crate loads of beer and the ingredients for a huge chilli which the women cooked. We had a chilli eating contest with a spoonful of chilli powder added between rounds. I let Pablo win this time excusing my weakened constitution. Don’t remember much of the later part of the evening and came to next morning, sprawling on my bed in the arms of my nurse. An auspicious beginning to a new chapter of my life!

Chapter 19

Since I checked in at the Mexico City airport with a nurse and in a wheel chair, Iberia took pity on me and kindly upgraded us to first class with all the rich trappings. The stewardesses were taken aback somewhat when Nurse Carmella and I started knocking back the champagne by the bucketful. We stayed a full week romancing in Madrid and did the Prado, Queen Sofia, Thyssen, Royal Palace and other sites, spending a full morning in each. Late lunch was followed by a long siesta as we revived our strength for the tapas tour of the bars before retiring to a club to continue my physiotherapy. As the week wore on the mornings got later and the evenings got longer. I’m sure we missed a whole day somewhere in this episode. I didn’t realise that Carmella was such a party animal. Normality took over on the last day and I bought myself Japanese four-by-four and Carmella drove us south to Granada where we stayed overnight so that we could visit the Alhambra. That would be the end of sightseeing for a while and the partying I thought. The Alpujarras, the southern slopes of the Sierra Nevada have decidedly different attractions.

The Cortijo or Spanish farm was a comfortable forty-five minutes’ drive away from Granada. We turned off the road between Lanjaron and Orgiva and suddenly we were off the black top onto a dusty cart track, winding its way up steeply up the mountain side. The track showed signs of neglect. Grandpa always had a shovel in the back so that he could fill in the potholes and stopper the rivulets after the occasional rainstorm. The local Spaniards relied on Grandpa’s good will in maintaining the track. Bottles of home brewed wine or olive oil were frequently left at his gate, in a sort of a payment. We arrived onto the brow of a hill as the mountain levelled out for a momentary rest and I pulled off the track onto a concrete road carefully laid by my good self, many moons ago, under the watchful eye of the slave master. An ornate forged iron gate barred our way and I hoped that the spare key was safe in its hiding place. I opened and closed the gates as Carmella drove the car through and on towards the low rambling house covered by colourful climbers that were slowly strangling the structure. Grandpa must have slowed down in his last few months and it showed in the vegetation taking advantage of the neglect. I would have to take a stern hand and bring them under control once again.

 The large terrace at the front was covered with a deep carpet of leaves and blossom. I opened the doors wide open to let some air into the place and pressed the button by the door and heard the low growl of the generator as it cut in and some lights in the lounge came on. I was pleased that we had some home comforts available. Everything inside was neatly arranged and apparently clean except for a thin layer of fine dust covered everything. Grandma spent most of her time dusting and mopping and shouting at Grandpa for leaving the doors open. The fridge and freezer was empty but the larder was well stocked with canned, pickled and dry food. I showed Carmella around the spacious accommodation and then took her outside to show off my former skills as a wall builder, supporting the terraces.  Everything looked shipshape on the terraces with all the trees looking healthy and no rotting fruit, attracting flies, lying on the ground. A neighbour must be looking after the orchard. We climbed up to the top terrace and I dusted the bench. From here we had a splendid view across to the mountains opposite, hiding the Mediterranean just beyond. A slight breeze allowed us to sit there in the hot sun, drinking in the view. A shout below brought us to our senses.

“It’s you Paulo. You should have warned us you were coming. We would have prepared the place for you. I was passing and Antonio stopped me, warning that a strange vehicle had driven up. Who needs a guard dog eh?”

“Hi Steve, meet Carmella. Carmella this is Steve our Canadian neighbour who lives with his wife Marcia just over the hill there.”

“Pleased to meet you Carmella. You two must come over for dinner tonight. I insist. Your mum tells me you’ve been in the wars. Must go and tell Marcia. She will be delighted. The usual suspects will be there. Bring a bottle of your Granddad’s favourite. It’s a shame to let it go to waste.”

“Thanks Steve. We’ll be there and I’ll bring you a few bottles. Have you been looking after the orchard here?”

“Yeh, me and Antonio between us. Don’t need any thanks. We’ve been selling the produce in Orgiva. Must go. Got the kids in the car. Hasta Luego and don’t be late.” With a wave he was gone, hidden amongst the orchard.

“Grandpa had good neighbours, all nationalities including a few Spanish. I don’t ever remember them eating dinner alone. Very sociable.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him. He sounded quite a character.”

“Let’s go down to the house Carmella. We’ll pass the kitchen garden, bound to rustle up a salad there for lunch. We’ll pick some ripe avocados on the way down.” The kitchen garden, Grandma’s joy, was still in good state and obviously maintained. We managed to find some ripe tomatoes, peppers, spring onions and some herbs. The garden produce looked well picked with no rotting or overgrown vegetables. We made a simple salad dressed with local produced olive oil found in the larder and home grown lemon juice. A bottle of Antonio’s wine helped to wash this down, as we sat on the terrace relaxing and kicking the leaves. This was the first opportunity we have had since leaving Mexico to relax and enjoy our own company. I brought out a couple of loungers and we retired under the shade of an olive tree and cracked open a second bottle of Antonio’s finest.

I was woken from my dreams by a nudge from Carmella reminding me we needed to get ready for our dinner at Steve’s. I checked that the solar panel was still functioning so that we could shower and change. I left Carmella in the bathroom and hunted out a case of Grandpa’s favourite Rioja wine that he bought direct from the bodega. I was eager to find out its taste since I was deemed to be a wine heathen, without an educated palate to savour his finest tipple. I was always handed a bottle of Antonio’s red which was good enough for me. Grandma would stick to her cava. Friends and neighbours would try the Rioja, enjoy it but generally revert to Antonio’s brew which could be downed in large doses with impunity and no severe looks of despair from Grandpa.

 Chapter 20

Marcia welcomed us warmly and dragged Carmella away into the kitchen where the other women were already gathered. Steve thrust a cold beer into my hand after relieving me of my case, and steered me onto terrace where the men were already sitting around a table strewn with empty beer bottles. They all had got here early, no doubt eager to find out my news and more importantly, if I was going to keep the Cortijo I surmised. I knew them all so there was no need for introductions and Antonio pulled out a chair next to him for me to sit and enjoy the small talk before dinner. Marcia brought out a tray of delicious looking tapas and gave me a squeeze, announcing dinner would be ready in half an hour or so and that we were to behave and not question me until we were all at the table. Marcia gave my shoulder another squeeze and pecked my cheek, whispering, questioning where on earth I had found such a beauty. I must have reddened because the company raised their glasses to me in acknowledgement. I just grinned with pleasure.

A big round table was set up on the terrace and was already groaning with table settings and candles. This was going to be a feast of all feasts. I was sat between Marcia and Antonio’s wife Rosario whilst Carmella was sitting as far away from me as possible between Steve and a French neighbour Claudio, who was taking a particular interest in my nurse. I felt a pang of jealousy hit me. Steve poured out the cava and made a long speech welcoming Carmella and myself and said some kind words about Grandma and Grandpa. I responded thanking them all for being such good friends and neighbours to my grandparents and told them that we would be staying here for a while whilst we decided what to do in the future and would be inviting them all for my famous Indian meals and now Mexican chilli. After yet another toast the tapas and snacks appeared just to whet the appetite. Claudio insisted that I should tell them all about my exploits in Mexico since they had heard that I was very ill there and wanted to know the circumstances. Marcia added that they also wanted to know where I had met Carmella. So as they tucked in to their tapas and cava I recounted my tale of woe from joining the Company, to being sent off in disgrace to Mexico, my work there, my rough time at the hands of Carmella and her colleagues and my near fatal accident. It didn’t take long and I didn’t dwell on the detail. Steve thanked me and turning to Carmella asked her version of events as far as I was concerned.

Carmella did a devastating job of defaming me in front of my friends and they loved it. The bits about my naivety in first coming out there and the way they used me to get one over the locals was a too close to the bone. She then told them in detail about my accident and how they had found me before the vultures had picked my bones clean. The most embarrassing thing when she described in revealing detail my illness, my problem with incontinence and my wearing of huge diapers or nappies. They asked her endless questions which she answered with her brand of humorous venom to my discomfort. They loved it and poor old Paulo was the whipping boy. Further disgrace was saved by the appearance of the first course of chilled gazpacho soup followed by a huge mixed salad which was the norm for a Spanish feast. A fish course followed, a mixture of lightly battered and fried fish accompanied by lots of wine. The main course was various roasts of pork, lamb, hams, chicken and rabbit. The table groaned under the weight of these meat dishes plus all the accompanying vegetables and sauces.

“Paulo, we made you your favourite dish here, patas pobres,” shouted Elizabeta, a good neighbour originating from Switzerland. “Just as you used to like them, no red peppers, just the green ones like the Spanish use.”

“Thanks Elizabeth, I did notice and I shall be tucking in. I always liked the way you made them for me, not the poncey version Grandma liked,” I answered raising my glass in gratitude. I loved this simple Spanish dish of potatoes, onions and green peppers sautéed in olive oil for a long time. Grandma would add other things to improve the dish in her eyes but I just loved the simple classic dish as it was meant to be. The meal continued as people circulated between Carmella and me, getting more information out of us.

 Steve came and had a word with me that he wished to talk to me on the quiet later. I knew exactly what he was going to talk to me about. Steve was the local wheeler and dealer. Mr Fixit we all called him. Lots of rumours abound that he was deceitful, double dealer, never to be trusted and somebody not to do business with. Grandpa said that these rumours were untrue and spiteful. According to Grandpa, who spent much time with Steve, he viewed him as an excellent negotiator and someone who got things done, “A true finisher par excellence,” Grandpa used to call him and told me to trust him explicitly. I knew he was going to talk to me about the possible sale of the farm and at this moment I had no idea as to what to do.

The dinner party now broke up into the next phase with Antonio and Steve bringing out their guitars and playing their version of Flamenco rhythms. The ladies immediately took to the floor and started the Flamenco dancing, led by Antonio’s wife Rosario whilst the men kept the beat with the distinctive Spanish clapping. Antonio’s son appeared with a drum box which he sat on and beat out a distinctive rhythm and sound. Rosario arranged the women in a line and she strutted her stuff and the ladies followed her as best they could. It reminded me of line dancing I had seen in the US. Carmella was soon dragged up to join them and Antonio started his singing which was more of a wail to keep the devils and dragons away. I contributed with clapping and an occasional ‘Ole!’ in appreciation and acknowledgement of their skills. The music stopped and Rosario rushed up to me and dragged me onto the floor. 

In my teenage years I had a crush on Rosario’s eldest daughter who must have been six years older than me. She had taken pity on me and invited me to join the local Flamenco school in Orgiva. What could a smitten lad do than go along to be close to his angel. Little did I know they were short of boys at the class. Anyway, I became a fairly accomplished dancer and in my innocent youth would perform at these gatherings. So, there I was again being forced to perform and feeling very self-conscious and somewhat nervous. I hadn’t done this for ages. I caught Carmella’s eye and she was enjoying my discomfort and egging me on to perform. What could I do but enter the spirit of things and show off a modest talent that at least earned one kiss from my beloved.

 After a passable performance, I decided to get my own back on Carmella and suggested that she should perform so that I could enjoy a few little asides and comments to embarrass her. Unfortunately I had met my match. She borrowed one of Antonio’s guitars, expertly tuned it and announced that she would sing and play an old Mexican lament in the Blues style. Well I was totally taken aback. I never knew she had such talent, such a strong voice and a nice way with the guitar. Antonio and Steve strummed along supporting her and Pedro added a light rhythm on his box. It was quite wonderful. After a couple of encores Marcia sang some folk numbers and Carmella was now fully integrated in the impromptu band. I went round filling up the glasses with wine and cava, feeling very proud of my nurse and beloved. 

Steve brought the proceedings to a close suggesting that we save our strength for another night and also our heads. Karl or Carlos from Denmark announced that he was now a grandfather for the first time and invited all to his place tomorrow night to celebrate. Marcia had prepared a basket of essentials for our breakfast and we wandered off to our new home happy and intoxicated with the welcome we had received. It was midday before we awoke the next day and after a lazy brunch we drove to Orgiva for supplies.

Orgiva is very much a cosmopolitan place with all nationalities represented in some form. Carmella was amazed at the variety of foods stocked from all over the world. Her basic shopping list went out of the window as we stocked up on all the exotica that the Orgiva shops could offer. The main items in our basket were ingredients for Indian and Mexican dishes since I was told that we would have to reciprocate with a dinner party of our own. On our return we found two of Antonio’s boys sweeping and washing down our terraces and Rosario mopping the floors inside. We cracked open some beers with a plate of Serrano ham and local manchego cheese and shared our snack on the sparkling terrace with our good neighbours.

Chapter 21

 I suggested a siesta to follow to charge up my batteries for that night’s party when Carmella announced that she was off to the Danish neighbours to help with the preparation and suggested I might spend the time brushing up on my Flamenco dancing. The sly glint in her eye told me she was just ragging me again. Instead, I helped the boys clean up the outside terraces, interspersed by a few beers to keep the energy levels up. I then wandered up into the orchard, amongst the shade of the trees to think things through and consider my options for the future. There was no hurry in that. There were no money worries, a roof over my…our heads, and a lovely companion to boot. On the way back I picked up and stuffed my pockets with avocados that had dropped to the ground and decided that for my contribution to tonight’s festivities I would make up a guacamole dish with a Mexican flavour, lots of heat with a generous inclusion of hot home grown chillies. An hour later Carmella came back all elated.

“Wow, have you seen the inside of the Danish place? It’s all modern inside but Spanish outside.”

“Yes, it’s a bit of a shock going inside there. Karl was an architect and he got Antonio to rebuild a traditional farm house for him into a modern work of art. Grandpa advised him to maintain a Spanish facade to increase the shock effect when you go inside.”

“Well it certainly blows your brains out when you enter the place.”

“Did you see the patio inside? I helped to collect the stones from the river for that. Karl laid out the pattern and I did the fetching and carrying.”

“No, but you will have to show me. We girls were too busy with the food preparation. I see signs that you have been keeping yourself in trim by going through the whole stock of beers darling!”

“Hell no! It wasn’t just me. I hope you noticed the clean and tidy terraces, all swept, swilled down and shipshape darling? I helped the Antonio’s boys with that and shared the beers in payment. I also made my speciality, a guacamole for tonight’s feast. I’ve only just stopped.”

“I’ll let you off then. Where is this concoction?” 

“It’s in the fridge. Have a taste and see if it’s hot enough?”

“You’ve made enough to feed the five thousand. Mmmm, quite yummy. What have you got bread wise to go with it?”

“I thought they would have potato crisps and chips to go with it up there.”

“Well they haven’t. Not on the menu. I’ll save your bacon again. I’ll fry up some tortilla chips. Good job we bought the flour earlier.”

“Great if you would dearest. I can pop into Orgiva and buy some if you want?”

“No need chef but you might give your Flamenco dance some thought. You’re booked to perform for tonight again.” 

“Oh no, I vowed years ago never to do that again.”

“Spoil sport! Your agent, me, has booked you for another performance and the girls tell me you have a good voice so the two of us will do some blues numbers. We can practice when we get ready. I’ve heard you in the shower so no excuses.”

“I didn’t realise that you were such a party animal Carmella?”

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me and yet to find out. Now come and help me to pound the dough for these tortillas whilst I get the hot pans ready.”

Chapter 22

Every night for the next month or so, somebody found an excuse to hold a dinner party so we partied away each night and slept late the following day. We managed to escape on some days, by taking the opportunity to visit the wonderful cities and sites that Andalucia offered, Seville, Cordoba, Jerez, Ronda, Granada, Guadix, Baeza and Ubeda to name a few. I also took the opportunity to cast a few seeds of my own. I set a tray in the green house and scattered a pinch of my cactus seeds to see if they would germinate. Within days I had hundreds of seedlings elbowing their way upwards, so to relive the congestion I transplanted them to a patch in the kitchen garden and a few of healthiest ones into large pots. I had the plan to let the latter grow to full size and in preparation I set up some wire netting around the three pots to stop any intruders. The mass of seedlings I hoped to test for eating qualities as described by the goatherd in Mexico. The majority of the seedlings survived my rough handling and swelled up visibly day by day. Rather than thinning them out further I decided that this would be done as I picked them for the table. The goatherd intimated that they were to die for. Just in case the local fauna decided to taste them first I covered the plot with fruit netting supported on canes. 

Within a week some seedlings had grown to about ten centimetres height and were starting to plump up. I decided to pick them and incorporate them in the mixed salad for lunch and see if Carmella would notice the difference between them and the local small cucumbers. I tried one first and they did seem rather tasty. We helped ourselves to a generous helping of salad and cut thin slices of Serrano ham and tucked in. Carmella suddenly started poking about in the bowl and picking out the new cucumber bits.

“This cucumber tastes different. It’s not like the usual pepinos that you buy.”

“Do you like it?”

“Certainly tastier than the usual ones we get, can’t remember were we got these.”

“I got them, especially for you. Do you like them?”

“I do. Where did you get them and what are they called?”

“I shall call them Mexican pepinos, that’s it!”

“Paulo, you haven’t grown some of those poisonous cacti have you?”

“I certainly have and I’ll show you after lunch. You remember the goatherd I told you about? He told me the local Indians used to grow them for food and as a delicacy.”

“Do be careful Paulo. I don’t need another round of diaper changing.”

“Don’t worry Carmella, they don’t develop poisonous spines until they are about thirty centimetres high. In the meantime let’s enjoy them.” I later showed Carmella my plot and the fenced specimens that I was going to grow on. I told her that I wanted to analyse the poison and maybe even develop an antidote.

A few weeks later Carmella noticed that friends and neighbours would drop in to share our lunch that it got to a state when we had to make double and triple quantities of salad to go around. Our leg of Serrano ham was also quickly diminishing with our stock of beer. The problem came to a head when Antonio’s wife Rosario came round to ask Carmella why Antonio was asking her to make salad the way Carmella made it. We didn’t let on that we were adding the secret ingredient of Mexican cactus, highly poisonous. One day Carmella suggested I make my disgusting cold gazpacho soup. I used the same ingredients and the same quantities as everyone else but mine never turned out right. Instead of salad my friends at lunch were confronted with the prospect of eating my gazpacho which I proudly owned up to making, the only difference was I had exchanged the pepino cucumbers for some fat specimens of the devil cactus.

 After some groans and caustic comments that I shouldn’t ever be allowed in the kitchen, the guest politely tried a small helping of soup and large slices of bread. After a few mouthfuls people raised their heads and were heard to mummer ‘not bad Paulo,’ ‘could do with more salt,’ ‘Carmella had a hand in this,’ and ‘I’ll think I will have some more please Carmella.’ The whole bowl was polished off in quick time and for once the chef got some guarded complements. Carmella just smiled and surreptitiously winked at me. We discussed the results which confirmed that the cactus added some flavour but since in itself, it hadn’t a strong taste on its own. It must have some flavour enhancement characteristics that you find in monosodium glutamate, that’s widely used in processed foods. Carmella decided to test this on the girls. They were having a ‘girls only’ lunch party and Carmella suggested making a chicken soup with as little flavour as possible but add the secret ingredient and see what effect it would have on the unsuspecting ladies.

 I played along and was chief taster of foul chicken soup (Excuse the pun). The soup had little flavour and was just a mixture of chicken, thickener and some bland pulses. She then added diced cactus and boiled the soup until the chunks softened. My first spoonful showed, by my grimace, that it hadn’t enhanced the flavour at all. Carmella urged me to have another. I reluctantly tried another spoonful and the effect was the same and I pronounced it more disgusting than my original gazpacho. Carmella tasted a couple of spoonful’s and pronounced it the worst soup she had ever tasted and that she wasn’t going to sully her culinary reputation by taking this along. 

“I think we will call it a day Paulo. This stuff you’ve grown doesn’t have any flavour especially cooked and does nothing for the soup.”

“You are right; it doesn’t enhance the flavour cooked. Raw it tastes nice but not cooked. I’ll give it one more taste and then it’s down the drain with this stuff.” We both had a couple of spoonsful and confirmed our fears that there were no flavour enhancement properties in the cactus. I picked up the large pan and was about to carry it away when Carmella stopped me.

“Hang on a moment, it may not turn a tasteless soup into a good one but it may add something to a decent soup. Do you know Paulo; I have an urge to have another spoonful even though it’s vile? I think it’s got addictive properties. That may be the thing.”

“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked ready to wander off and dump the contents.

“Hang on, let me just titivate it a bit and make it more acceptable or just acceptable taste and flavour wise and let’s see how it goes down. It’s worth a try.”

“On your head be it and your reputation as a culinary genius.”

“I can cope with that. Not everything we make turns out well every time. Put the pan back and I’ll play with it.”

Carmella tarted the soup up to an acceptable level of taste and slapped my hand, “Paulo! Stop it! I’ll have nothing to take if you keep tasting it so much.”

“Ugh, sorry, but you are right it is addictive. I think I have the taste for it and want more even if the main taste is lousy. Got me thinking, these fast food chains must have an addictive secret ingredient that they put in their product. They keep talking about them as secret recipes but they could be some addictive ingredient. I just wonder if we have discovered one here?”

“You may be right. So let’s test this product on our girls and see their reaction. It should be interesting. If you see me returning with an empty pan then you will know the answer. Don’t look so sceptical Paulo. Each girl will produce a dish and will attempt to make her best effort in taste and amount so we are not going to be short of food. The test will be if they come back and have more and then we will know for certain if there is anything in our idea.”

“Best of luck Carmella. I shall sit here with bated breath waiting for your return.” Carmella added some more stock and chicken pieces to make up a whole pan full and drove off with a wave. Three hours later I heard the car returning and stood out on the veranda full of expectation. She parked the car with a flourish and cloud of dust so I couldn’t see her properly get out. As the dust cleared she appeared out of the cloud with a huge smile and the upturned pan perched on her head. I rushed forward to meet her and she grabbed me, throwing the pan aside and forced me into a kind of wild jig.

“Tell all, tell all Carmella. I can see you are excited. Did it go down well?”

“Did it go down well? You can say! I served them all up a small amount and I could tell from their faces how bad they thought it was. I ignored them and continued eating and chatting. They were polite enough to finish their plates but didn’t ask for more and made little or no comment about my dish. We proceeded onto other gorgeous dishes and they were full of praise and comments for them to the sheer delight of the producer.”

“Come on out of the hot sun and into the shade of the terrace and continue.”

“Well we tried all the dishes and then it was free for all when we could go for second helping of our favourite. To my utter astonishment, Rosario was the first to go and generously help herself to a plate of my soup. At first I thought it was just her way of pleasing me but others started to help themselves until it was all gone. Some were even disappointed.”

“Are you sure this was genuine? It wasn’t set up to make you feel better about your disappointing effort?”

“Paulo, trust me. I would know if they were putting it on. Some even asked me for a recipe even though I admitted that it wasn’t my best effort.” 

“So I think we have struck on something here which may warrant more investigation. I was going to continue with the research on the poisonous elements but we have a new angle on this cactus.”

“If you say so Paulo. Now crack open a bottle of your Grandpa’s best and I’ll tell you some more juicy gossip going around.”

My selected cacti in the secure iron pen were thriving well and I could just about notice the buds of the spines appearing. From now on I would have to be more careful. A second crop of had been sown for harvesting young for the table and more tests on unsuspecting neighbours. I visited the Biochemistry department at Granada University and managed to arrange access to their labs. I offered to pay but the professor was kind enough to offer me the facility free of charge, only to pay for the consumables if I published my thesis from their department. Things were looking rosy in my garden but I knew in my heart that soon we would be off, as planned wandering and exploring various corners of the world. I now had to wait patiently for the poisonous spines to grow and develop so that I could milk the venom and test it for its properties.

Chapter 23

“Paul! Paul, where are you? We need to talk.”

“Hola Carmella, sounds serious. I can tell. You call me ‘Paul’ instead of the usual ‘Paulo.’”

“Come and sit down on the terrace. I have an important matter to discuss.”

“Shall I get a bottle?”

“No, I’ve got some iced tea for us.”

“OK, I’m sitting comfortably now you can begin.”

“Don’t jest Paul. This is serious. I am pregnant!”

“Er.. what? How can that be?”

“Come on Paulo, surely your mother taught you about the birds and the bees.”

“Sure, but I thought you were taking precautions?”

“I was and I am but with our travels and thing I may have got out of sync. Anyway, there it is and I’m pregnant and you will have to make an honest woman out of me!”

“Hang on a minute,” I shouted and sprinted off into the garden. I came back with a huge red hibiscus rose and dropped to one knee before Carmella and solemnly asked, “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will stupid. Anyway I asked you first. Now sit down and let me tell you all. I went to the doctors this morning and he confirmed my feelings although its early days yet, say a month and a half or so but I’m certain and I just feel different. Anyway I’m happy about it, are you Paulo?”

 “I’m still a bit dazed but excited by both events and of course I’m happy. Can I put a bottle of bubbly on ice for later?”

“Err, not now. Let’s just cut down on the booze for now. I’m supposedly in a delicate condition and the doctor advises against alcohol for the moment. Paulo, I’m afraid it puts paid to our planned trip around the world. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

 “I can’t be disappointed with the current news but would you be happy living here in Spain or would you rather we moved to Mexico to be close to your family?”

“Having met your friends and neighbours here I’m quite happy to stay amongst them if you are Paulo.”

“Well Carmella, I’ve given this some though and I would like to study for my PhD on the nature of this poisonous cactus and that would take about two to three years to complete.”

“Would that mean growing more of those dangerous things?”

“I’m afraid so but I couldn’t grow them here on this farm. It would be far too dangerous. Too many people about and by their nature, the locals are very inquisitive. Also I would hate to uproot any of Grandpa’s trees; it would just spoil the place to have high fences with ‘keep out’ signs. We would have to find a remote place where we could fence off an area and keep it away from inquisitive eyes.”

“Would that mean we left all these lovely people?”

“No, certainly not! There are some remote valleys on the Alpujarra Mountains close to here and I’ll consult with the local estate agents and see what is available. They are all within thirty minutes or so from here. Bit of a drive but within reach.”

“That’s fine by me but could we stay here, in this house, until I have the baby and could I bring my mother over for the wedding and the birth.”

“Certainly, bring both your Mum and Dad over; I can afford the air fare. No problem. Now apart from looking after my cacti babies I now have to look after you. What kind of wedding would you like?”

“Something small Paulo, nothing extravagant.”

“Sorry Carmella the ‘small’ is out. We have to invite all the people on our mountain plus your people and mine. The cost will be mine. Let’s kiss on that?”

Lunch that day was an exciting event with the usual suspects present. Both bits of news got the locals going on full steam as the cell phones got a hammering. Within minutes, or seconds the news was broadcast over the whole mountain and farther afield. There was a pause, and then came the incoming stream of well-wishers mainly wanting to speak to Carmella to my dismay. She was talking down three cell phones clutched in her hands whilst others were held close not to miss an iota of information. The lunch was forgotten and the little birds and sparrows made off with the bread on the table and joined in all the kafuffle as they squabbled over the best morsels on the terrace tiles. Then came the long distance phones to Mexico and suddenly a phone was thrust into my hand and there was my mother’s angry voice wanting to know why I hadn’t phoned her first. The lunch numbers suddenly increased as more people descended on us from the mountain bringing gifts of flowers and champagne. The whole thing turned into an impromptu party. Suddenly the women would disappear into the kitchen and return with a plates of delicious looking tapas and our stock of wines and cavas got a good hammering. Antonio saved the day by sending one of his sons back home for a crate of his home made vino tinto which was always appreciated.

As the afternoon progressed the plans for the wedding started to formulate. The whole event was taken out of our hands as our neighbours squabbled over who was going to do what. Steve the fixer took charge and directed the proceedings. The ceremony would take place at the Danish property since that had the most space and the banquet or banquets would start at the top of the mountain at Claudio’s villa and work its way down to Antonio’s and finish with singing and dancing at our place. Everybody’s honour was to be satisfied. I went over to Steve to thank him for his organisation and wanted to know what my financial contribution would be.

“Paulo, this was the wish of your Granddad that you would be married here just as you elder brother was. The General, as we called your Grandfather as you may recall, was much respected and loved by the community here so it’s the least we can do to give you a good send off. Anyway, we haven’t had such an occasion for some time now. Let me think, yes it was Antonio’s elder daughter. You know, the one you were soft on. That was the last year when we arranged her wedding party.”

“Thanks Steve, I owe you one.”

“No Paulo it’s me that owes you for all the advice and friendship that the General gave me and us all. We all hope you will stay with us now on the mountain.”

“Well we plan to stay until the birth but I’m also on the lookout for another Cortijo or farm in the local vicinity.”

“Why not stay here, on this farm where you belong?”

“I need to grow lots of cacti for my research and I don’t want to disturb what Grandpa’s done here. I need somewhere close but isolated.”

“I’ll do the legwork for you Paulo. I know the estate agents around here and I’m sure we can find you something suitable. When will you want it? After the birth?”

“Well as soon as possible. Lot of preparation will need to be done and as you know most of these mountain places will need some modernisation I expect.”

“OK, I’ll get onto it straight away. Have you got funding for this or will you need a loan?”

“Grandpa left me a tidy sum and I’ve got savings so I think I could manage to fund a Cortijo and still keep this place on for a while.”

The party continued late into the evening and then slowly people transferred down to Antonio’s for that night’s dinner venue to continue the celebrations. I had about an hour alone with Carmella to discuss the plans and events before we changed to wander down to Antonio’s for dinner. As we walked down we discussed who of the family we would invite. Carmella wanted her mother to come and I suggested that her father should come for the wedding at least and stay on if they liked. There was plenty of room for them here. I rang my much older brother who I didn’t see much and only contacted on special occasions. He had already heard the news and was planning to come over with his wife as soon as possible and asked if he could lodge with us.

 He told me the disturbing news that he also had been made redundant and both he and his wife had signed up for a crash hotel management and catering courses with plans to open a pub or a small hotel. I wished him luck and that we would be delighted to see him soon. I then received an irate text message from mother who was still cross with me and told me that she and dad were coming over with grandma and they were staying with Carlos in his Danish modern villa. It seemed that everybody was making their own arrangements without us and I felt a little left out and somewhat hurt. I would get over it.

Chapter 24

A few days later, Steve arrived and said he was taking me to see three properties that he had found. Carmella insisted on coming along so he drove us up the road towards Pampinera and suddenly veered off on a track up the mountain. We saw a couple of Cortijos which were quite interesting even though the accommodation was sparse and basic. The layout of each was appropriate for my purposes with plenty of terraced land that could be fenced off so my spirits soared and even Carmella liked them or at least saw the potential.

“I have one more for you to see,” said Steve urging us back into his large four wheel drive. “I want you to have an open mind on this one and judge it by its potential. I won’t say any more until we get there,” as he drove off in a cloud of dust and up another rough track. As we reached the shoulder of the mountain he stopped and said, “Now the track here gets worse and has deteriorated since I was last here so we may have to walk the last bit. We’ll see. It’s over two years since I’ve seen it. The place was bought by some French couple hoping to turn it into a B&B or small hotel but they lost hope so probably it’s in quite a mess.”

“How do you know about such places Steve? Out in the middle of nowhere?” I asked.

“I keep my finger on the pulse and was going to buy this place for development but the French raised the price too much. Now they are having a job to sell it and I’m hanging on until they beg me to take it off their hands.”

“Look Steve, I don’t want to get in your way. If you want this property then I’ll be satisfied with the ones you have already shown me.”

“Paulo, let me be straight with you. I can wait. You buy it, do it up and finish your degree and no doubt you will be off somewhere else. I will then buy it from you when much of the hard graft has been done, then I will take it on, develop it further and sell it on as a more attractive proposition to some unsuspecting Swede, who like a bit of peace and quiet.”

“If you say so Steve. Go on then, lead on Mac Duff!” The track did get worse, with much of it washed away and in need of large machine to re-grade it. Finally we drove through some fine stone gate posts and into a courtyard.

“Now let me tell you some history about this place. A sect of monks bought the land and built this huge stone building, the Monastery, you see on the right there. They also rebuilt the terraces over there and planted the whole place with fruit trees to become self-sufficient. Having done all this they abandoned the place as being too lonely and a bunch of nuns took the place over for a while until a storm broke their water supply and they moved on.”

“It looks more like an abandoned building site rather than a monastic building.”

“That’s thanks to the French couple who spent some time converting the cells into luxury apartments but it was even too much for them.”

“Did they live on site?” asked Carmella.

“Sure, it was the only way. They lived in the old Cortijo just over there that you can see behind the chestnut trees. Look, I will take Carmella and show her the buildings and you Paulo go up on the terraces and see what you make of them. I haven’t been up there so I can’t tell what you might find.” With that Steve took Carmella’s arm and steered her through the rubble towards the large monastic building. I started off climbing up onto the terraces to survey the layout. It didn’t look too promising with many of the fruit trees dead through lack of water. I followed the water courses which looked in good condition until I reached a deep valley and that’s where I spotted the problem. The water course had been breached by a huge landslide that had swept at least a hundred metres of the water channel away. I couldn’t see the other end, being hidden by the bend in the valley. I tried to negotiate the loose rock of the landslide but it soon got too dangerous and I remembered the last episode I had with loose rocks that had ended in disaster. I could see water running down in the deep canyon like valley so I was determined to find the original source of the water course.

 There was only one thing for it and to climb up and over and hope to find access further up the valley. It took me thirty minutes of hard climbing and scrambling until I got to the source. I found the water bubbling strongly at various springs and saw the beginning of the water course winding its way along the steep wall of the gorge. I couldn’t see signs of the landslide but I could imagine the despair of the people who suddenly found themselves without water and an impossible task of repairing the channel. I had seen enough and scrambled back up the hill. As I reached the crest I could hear the car horn blaring away, summoning me back. I hurried down the terraces still checking on the now very dry water channels that meandered along the contour towards a couple of large round water deposits. One of which looked relatively new. Puffing and panting as I reached the car I was greeted with…..

“Where’ve you been? We were worried about you. You’ve been away for over an hour and a half. We though you may have fallen down the ravine.”

“Sorry, really sorry but I wanted to see where the water source was for the water deposits and all the channels up there. Had to do a bit of scrambling but I was careful Carmella. There’s been a landslide up there and a good bit of the channel has been swept away.”

“That must have happened whilst the nuns were in residence Paulo. That’s probably the last straw that finally decided them to depart.”

“Where did the Frenchies get their water?” I asked.

“I believe they pumped it up from the river below, up to the new deposit they had built. Anyway, let’s move on, we can talk on the way. I promised to take Carmella up to Capileira for lunch at The Chestnuts, the General’s favourite restaurant. You’ve eaten there Paulo?”

“Yeh, a few times when Grandpa was feeling pleased with me. Grandma didn’t like the twisty journey up there. Come on then, what are we waiting for?” as I climbed into the car and turning to Carmella asked, “Now tell me what you two have been up to?”

“Well we had a great time exploring the place. Didn’t we Steve? It’s huge! At least the main building is huge. Look Paulo you can only see the top two floors from this side but lower down is another floor with a huge canteen, kitchen, library and chapel. Beneath all that Steve tells me there is another under-build with garages and store rooms. There is also the old farm house where we are going to live. Steve says he has a spare wood burning stove that he will let us have. There’s plenty of wood about.”

“Sounds as if you have already bought the place?” I added with a smile.

“Sorry Paulo, it’s not like that but I’d be happy to live there. The farmhouse is quite spacious and will clean up easily and there are plenty of out-houses in fair condition.”

“Hey Steve, seems you’ve worked your sales charm on my beloved.”

“No Paulo, Steve just showed me around and made no comments at all.”

“Sorry Steve!”

“Don’t worry; I just let Carmella do the talking. She seems quite enthused by the place.”

“Paulo, I’d be happy to live there given a few cosmetic changes and some TLC.”

“But do we need all that building? It’s huge. What would we do with it?”

“I thought we would move into the farmhouse initially until we get one of the apartments ready.”

“But what do we do with the farmhouse then?”

“Paulo, you will need help with this place, now, to do it up and later. The workers can live there in the converted cells and we can take over one of the apartments whilst we do up the lower floor for ourselves. It will be fabulous. Super views!”              

“Seems the decisions have already been made for me, where do I sign the dotted line?”

“It’s not like that Paulo. I’m just making my mind up if I could live there and the answer is a resounding ‘YES’ and now it’s up to you to make your mind up.”

“Look you two. I don’t want to cause a rift but Paulo you must admit it’s important that your wife to be is happy to live in that isolated place, isn’t it?”

“You’re right Steve but I’m not sure I want to take on such a wreck at this stage.”

“Paulo, the monks and nuns lived there for years and most of the apparent neglect and rubble was caused recently by the French couple who were busy with a rebuild to turn the place into a hotel. The mess is superficial and it will all clean up. The basics as Carmella has said are sound. With a bit of titivation the habitable areas can be made into quite luxurious accommodation.”

“I would need to see the place again before I make my mind up Steve.”

“And rightly so Paulo and you need to bring Antonio with you. He can advise on the work required and also on the orchards and what needs doing. He knows his stuff as you know.”

“That’s good advice Steve. I’ll talk to him.”

“I already have on your behalf. What I suggest is that I start the negotiations with the French whilst you make a full survey of the place with Antonio.”

“Isn’t that a bit hasty Steve?”

“Look, there is no harm in starting the process whilst you make your mind up. At least you will know your financial liabilities before you commit. I told Antonio to spread the word that he’s interested in buying the place. That will keep the vandals and nosy parkers away from the site.”

“OK Steve, that sounds good. Any idea what we should offer?”

“I know what the French paid for it and since they abandoned the build and I can assume that they ran out of cash or they came to their senses about the hotel idea, therefore the final price should be considerably lower. I would surmise that you Granddad’s place is worth twice as much if not more as this place, but let me check them out first.”

“Paulo, behind the farm house is a huge walled kitchen garden. All overgrown now but it will be great for our use. We could be self-sufficient. Steve left the gate open so that the goats could get in and mow the weeds down for us.”

“Sounds as if I’m totally outnumbered by you two!

“Now stop the bickering you two, you’re not married yet! Let’s just drop the subject and enjoy the views. We’ll be there in a few minutes and I’m starving. I hope they have some lamb shank left for us. We are a bit late even by Spanish standards.”

It was warm enough to sit outside on the terrace and we had a typical Spanish banquet with lots of dishes to share and washed down with plenty of the best local wine. We got our hands slapped by Steve every time we brought up the subject of the monastery. We were all excited by the prospect of this new abode. 

A few days later I drove Antonio and one of his sons up to survey the place. I insisted Carmella stayed away so I had free rein on my thoughts and decisions; instead she packed us a perfect picnic to sweeten the pill. We drove slowly along the track or driveway leading to the monastery as Antonio surveyed the damage amidst much sucking of teeth and shaking of head. We stopped in the courtyard full of builder’s rubble and my heart sunk as the reality hit. We inspected the old farm house which was in good condition apart from the rubbish left by some squatters. Behind, was the walled garden full of goats, nicely mowing the weeds. Antonio burst out in anger and got us to chase the goats out. He said it would be much better to let a few pigs loose in here to plough the place up and get rid of all the roots of the weeds. The gate was firmly closed and wedged with a stout pole.

 We then went across to the main building and I was surprised to find that the conversion was to a high standard and the little individual cells had been converted and joined up into luxury apartments. The doors were still missing and the bathrooms had to be fitted out but the hard work had been done. Half the floor had been converted into four apartments and the rest had been left as the original individual cells. The upper floor was untouched. We found our way down to the canteen which probably doubled as a meeting room and canteen. Adjoining was series of toilet rooms still in good conditions. We then moved into what was at one time a library. The books had gone but the empty shelves and desks where still there. This led into a small chapel still furnished with hard looking wooden benches and a stone alter. Sun light poured through the round stained glass windows and brightened up the place with some colour. We then descended the final staircase into the under-build. This was full of junk and we decided to call it a day. We went up a floor to the former canteen and Antonio suggested we eat our picnic and discuss what we had seen so far.

We moved a table and three chairs into the sun and enjoyed the food Carmella had prepared and a bottle of Antonio’s best vino tinto. Antonio’s son, who was a carpenter stroke joiner, announced that the work to finish of the apartments was simple and straightforward and a lick of paint all round would finish the job perfectly. I liked the sound of that. Antonio added that the building looked sound, with no leaks from the roof or damp patches and the main task was to get a big digger in to re-grade the road and the long drive. He added we needed to inspect the cess pit and the water supply from the water deposits for leaks since settlement and minor earthquakes in the area always seemed to cause these problems. I was a bit taken aback by the earthquakes but Antonio told me not to worry, that it was normal in these mountains and the builders had taken good account of these by constructing a strong concrete frame which was the norm.

I then brought up the subject of the terraces, the trees and that I wanted to a huge fence built around an area to make it totally secure. I got some strange looks from Antonio and son so I explained that I was going to grow toxic plants there and wanted to keep nosey people out and ensure nobody messed about with my research project. They shrugged their shoulders and said they would take a look after our snack. I also told them I would like to resurrect the water channel from the spring that had been broken by the landslide, again a shrug of shoulders and a comment of ‘let’s take a look’. 

On the way to the cess pit we had a look in small building set away from the main and found a large generator with a large diesel tank. Suddenly Antonio’s whole demeanour changed and he got quite excited and animated. Antonio’s son Ronaldo explained that his dad loved anything mechanical and that we would have to drag him away to continue with our survey. We eventually managed to entice him away after he had started up the generator and pronounced it in full health, to my satisfaction. As we walked through the former orchards and terraces there was much tutting and anger at the mismanagement that had gone on here. Most of the fruit trees were dead, only the olives had survived the lack of water and these needed urgent treatment.

 I marked out an area that I wanted fencing and Antonio paced it out, still shaking his head in wonderment at my demand for the fence to be sunk into the ground by at least half a meter and it should be at least two and a half meters high. More shaking of head and rubbing of thumb and fore finger in an indication of high cost. As I continued to be dogged about my demands for security they softened and started to put forward concrete suggestions. Antonio said we would need diggers in for the ditch to sink the fence and for the concrete to be poured to hold the posts. Ronaldo suggested we plant the local prickly pear cactus around the fence for a further deterrent. This plant grows profusely in the area and easily to propagate once you added the important ingredient of water.

Water supply was our next issue and Antonio’s simple solution was to use the generator to power a pump to get the water from the lower portion of the deep valley. I liked the idea of a quick simple solution but I told them I would rather have gravity do the work for me so we retraced my steps over the hill to the spring whilst Antonio cast a critical eye over the terrain. Water was another of Antonio’s passion as Ronaldo informed me. He said he had some Berber blood in him and they were past masters with managing water efficiently. Suddenly Antonio became animated and cursed the generator and the pump and broke into a stream of Spanish which Ronaldo thankfully translated for me.  The gist of his outpourings was that we should build a sump at the spring head with concrete and local stones and lead plastic water pipes along the existing water channels and where these had been destroyed by landslide we should support the pipe with iron stakes and concrete pillars. The pipes would feed the deposits and from there feed the irrigation channels in a controlled way. This sounded a good plan to me and since Antonio proposed it I believed it was feasible. 

We clambered back up the hill and back to my vehicle. I summed up what I wanted doing as a basic requirement and asked Antonio to give me an estimate of the costs. He shrugged his shoulders, sucked his teeth and simply said it was worth doing for what I wanted and the cost was inconsequential. I urged him to give me a better estimate since I would have to find the money to fund all of this apart from buying the place. He scratched his nose and announced that I would be a fool not to take it on and he would arrange the work schedule and supply of the materials. I gave up on him but Ronaldo took me aside and whispered that the whole job wouldn’t cost much since most of it would be labour and that was cheap in the Alpujarras. He urged me to accept that and go ahead with the purchase and his dad and all the family would look after me. I was taken back emotionally by their kindness and his response so didn’t pursue the subject with Antonio any further.  

On the way back, Antonio and son discussed the project in an exuberant stream of Spanish which I couldn’t understand only occasionally adding a ‘Si’ in acknowledgement when referred to for an opinion. Since I didn’t understand the question a ‘Yes’ answered seemed the appropriate thing in reply and it seemed churlish to stop the flow. As I dropped them off at their farm I asked Ronaldo to come around that evening for a beer and tell me all. As I parked the vehicle in the shade of a chestnut tree I saw Carmella rushing out.

“Good news Paulo, Steve has been in touch with the French couple and they are relieved that someone has shown interest in their place. They seem desperate sell so Steve has started the negotiations.”

“Hey hang on! You haven’t asked me how I have got on. I could have rejected the place out right after this morning’s survey.”

“No you haven’t. I could tell by the way you drove up and jumped out of the car, you’re quite perky.”

“OK, you can see straight through me. Yes, I admit I’m quite excited about the whole thing.”

“What was Antonio’s overall assessment of the place?”

“Well, his usual answer was ‘No problemo’ but on the way back he and Ronaldo were talking ten to a dozen and quite animated. Ronaldo is coming over before dinner to explain. I trust him to tell me the truth about the place. I’m still concerned about that huge building. What do we want with that?”

“Look Paulo, firstly it’s not going to a burden to us and I fancy living in one of those new luxury apartments, lovely terrace at the front and views over the valley to die for. That is before you convert the downstairs for me into a spacious penthouse.”    

“What do we need that much space for?”

“For all the kids we are going to have Paulo.”

“Don’t joke Carmella. The realisation of one child is hitting me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted but I’m not sure about the fatherhood bit. You get no training for it and I’m a tad apprehensive about it all.”

“That’s same for me Paulo but I think we will manage. Another thing I want to tell you. I want to move into the new place straight after the wedding. No point staying here and you being away.”

“That’s what I call pressure! I see the decision is totally out of my hands. But won’t you be a bit lonely out there?”

“I hope you don’t mind but I’ve arranged Mum to stay on until after the birth. Dad will go back unless he can be of any help to you. Both aren’t afraid of hard work. I’m sure you will get on with them. They tend to keep very much to themselves so they won’t be under our feet all the time.”

“It’s not that Carmella but doesn’t your Dad have a job to keep back home?”

“He works seasonally on the fruit farms in California and as a builder out of season at home so staying on will not be a problem and he could be quite a help to you.”

“That’s fine but we would need to pay him a decent wage and all that.”

“No need, they said it would be a wedding present and also a big change and adventure for them. All we need to do is buy their plane ticket and provide them with accommodation which is no problem now we have the room.”

“OK, but I would still like to pay for their labour. It’s only right.”

That evening Ronaldo turned up with lots of papers and catalogues of furniture, tiles and fittings. He told me all they had discussed on the return journey, all encouraging and then I left him with Carmella to discuss the fittings and furnishings needed for the apartment and farm house. I took a cold beer and went up to the top terrace where Grandpa used to do all of his thinking. Although most of the decisions had been taken out of my hands I still wanted to mull all the things over and arrange them neatly in my mind. I sat under the shade of a cherimoya tree, sipping the beer and racking my brain for all the downsides of each element of my life. Whichever way I turned the good points kept flipping up. I wished I brought a pad to note down the points and arrange them in a semblance of order. I don’t know if it was the beer or if it was the sunshine but suddenly the smoke screen and cloud of confused messages coalesced into a defined roadway and I suddenly realised what a lucky lad I was with all the future neatly mapped out for me. The only thorn was I needed to earn a living. 

The monies I had would soon be swallowed up and the fruits of my research were a long way off, if indeed they became commercial. I decided to concentrate on my research and try to be self-sufficient in food as far as possible. After all the Arab invaders called this area the Garden of Eden and I needed to exploit that fact. I needed to expand the kitchen garden and maybe plant some cash crops to trade on the other terraces. I came down looking much brighter and in a happier frame of mind.  Down on the terrace I came across a heated conversation taking place between Carmella, Ronaldo and Steve, no doubt fuelled by the contents of the mass of empty beer bottles on the table.

“Come and join us Paulo, we need some help on a few matters,” shouted Steve.

“Come and sit here next to me. There’s a beer in the cool box for you. We saved one especially for you. Steve wants to know if you’ve made any decisions yet?”

“Hi Steve, what brings you here this evening?”

“More news Paulo, more updates if you are still interested in El Monasterio?”

“Although I feel that the decision has already been made I’ve made my own mind up that I would like to bid for the place and go ahead.” I didn’t have a chance to continue when Carmella jumped up and hugged me, giving me a big kiss.

“Thanks Paulo. I knew you would see sense and it’s the only way you are going to get your research done. I’m relieved darling.”

“OK, you two, cool down a bit, I also have some interesting news to tell now that you are here Paulo. I’ve been in touch with the French couple and told them a real tear jerker that you were destitute and had nowhere to live and since you were such an antisocial lot, needed a secluded hideaway.”

“You didn’t say that did you Steve, surely not?”

“Nah Carmella but I did tell them you had a property to sell so I’ve come up with a scheme whereby you put down ten percent deposit and then twenty five percent in advance every six months until you reach the full amount. That way we spread the costs and if at any time you pull out you lose the moneys paid but don’t worry about that because I would buy it from you anyway.”

“Seem rather generous. Have they agreed?”

“In principle yes, the advantage is that you effectively lease the place and only buy it in the last payment. That way you don’t pay any tax until the final date and by that time you will know exactly how the land lies. What do you think?”

“Sounds fine to me but how much do they want for the whole place.”

“They are saying that they want what they paid for it and what they invested in the building. I’m arguing that you aren’t interested in the building and that the orchards have been badly neglected and are now worthless. I expect them to agree a final price somewhere below what they paid.”

“And how much was that?”

“Less than half the value of this place.”

“Why is everybody so shy in giving me a real price? I couldn’t get one out of Antonio and now you are being evasive Steve.”

“Don’t worry Paulo. These are the imponderable things in life and they will sort themselves out in time. You won’t be out of pocket on this, I can guarantee and if you need a sub I can do that. No probs.”

“Thanks Steve, I hope it won’t come to that. How long will this process take?”

“You haven’t been listening Paulo. Since you are going to lease the place you can move in as soon as the papers are signed. Say a week after the Frenchies agree on a price. Now don’t gawp! Now why don’t you two just buzz off and crack a bottle of bubbly to celebrate. I need to talk business with Ronaldo.”

Chapter 25

Matters were moving quickly and the time seemed to be passing by even quicker. Mum and Dad had arrived with Grandma and were settling in at the Danish place. My brother and wife were due to arrive next day and I was assigned to collect them from Malaga airport. Carmella was too busy with wedding arrangements and hounding Ronaldo about the fixtures and fittings that she was ordering. Her parents, Manolo and Maria were flying over in a couple of days’ time and both of us planned to meet them in Madrid with a stay overnight for all of us, a chance for them to visit a major European capital. The wedding date was fixed and all the arrangements in hand so I was at a loose end waiting to finalise the lease agreement.

I carefully tore off a jar full of spines with some long handled pliers and rushed off to Granada to try and get a sizeable portion of the poisonous substance so that I could start the analysis in the lab before the poison dissipated. After hours of careful washing and distillation I managed to get a minute quantity of what I hoped would be the pure poison. It looked innocuous in the test-tube, a cloudy white liquid, hardly a drop. I mused that there was enough there to do serious damage to the whole population of Granada if not the whole of Andalucia, since hardly a scratch had laid me low, near death’s door. I decided to seal it in another jar, security sealed and lodged it in the lab’s safe after, completing the dangerous substances register, with a warning that no known antidote existed. I got the lab supervisors to check the Spanish label for accuracy and he ensured it was correctly stored in the safe. I disposed of my full mask, apron and double gloves in a plastic bag destined for the incinerator and went down for a self-congratulatory drink and tapas in the university bar. Before departing for home, I booked another lab session to start the analysis. I hoped to get well advanced in this before I was too busy with visitors, weddings and the new Cortijo. Life is grand I mused and thought the aptness of Grandpa’s saying of ‘getting your ducks in a row.’ Mine were certainly flying high and in line.

The following day I went to see the three encaged cacti to find a dead stray cat inside the cage whose inquisitiveness proved fatal. There was also a small bird who had succumbed to the deadly poison. I searched through Grandpa’s store for some close mesh netting but decided that before any further accidents I should somehow dispose of the cacti. I pondered over the problem and thought back to the inebriated mice that I had seen in Mexico. I knew from the goatherd that when the cactus dies the spines gradually lose their potency and become harmless. The Indians had to pick fresh ones for each hunting expedition. I decided I would cut the three cacti off at their base and store them vertically, upside down, against a wall and let the insides ferment and observe the results. I scoured the store and garden shed for inspiration and materials to cut and handle the cacti at arm’s length. I didn’t want to get close. In the end I decided on a lifting trolley used for removing engine blocks so that with ropes I could handle the dangerous cacti at a safe distance. The trolley would allow me to move the thing into the shed without me getting close.

 To cut it down I found a pruning saw on a long handle. All I needed was some protection for myself. At that moment I heard the roar of a Spanish scooter announcing its arrival with a purposefully punctured exhaust box for maximum noise and effect. It was one of Antonio’s young daughters delivering a message. I ran out and stopped her before she roared off. As normal, her helmet was adorning the pommel at the back rather than on her head. I had no compunction of borrowing her helmet since she never wore it or anyone of her mates. It was far too big and probably a cast off from one of her brothers. It suited me fine with a full face cover. I put aside some thick gardening gloves and tried on one of Grandpa’s tweed jackets which he used in the winter when it was quite cool. To protect my legs I decided to wind some sacking around them held by gaffer tape. I practised lassoing a pole, heaving the imaginary stem out of the ground and with the engine trolley, spinning it upside down as I would with the cactus. It seemed successful but to avoid frightening the neighbours in my get-up I decided to do the job early in the morning before any sensible person was up.

The alarm shook me from my slumbers and I crept out and donned my garb. I must have looked a right twerp and was glad that no one was witnessing the event. The method I had adopted proved quite successful, only getting the lasso in the right place proved tricky. Sawing it off at ground level was straightforward but I had to stop and tension the rope frequently so that it wouldn’t fall my way. Compared to moving an engine block, moving the cacti into the shed was a piece of cake. I rested the three of them against a wall and topped off the cut end with a floor tile to keep the flies off. I set up the cage to guard the cacti from stray visitors and was glad to disrobe. It was then I heard a commotion outside with the birds fighting and flapping their wings in anger. I stepped out of the shed to observe a dozen birds fighting for what looked like worms where the cacti had been. I shooed them away and saw that they had been pecking at the sawdust. There could still be some spines on the base or lying around that I had dislodged. Fortunately I had cut the cactus off at the base by resting the saw on the ground. On closer inspection of the base that I had dug up, I saw no signs of spines. 

I swept the area with a yard brush and buried the pile of dust in a hole in the shrubbery alongside, just to be on the safe side. That was a close shave I thought. I carried the base with roots into the shed on the spade and gave it another close inspection for spines. I went a step further and using a sharp knife cut off the skin part like peeling a potato. The peel I put on a pot base and offered it to the birds. If one died then I knew I had been at serious risk. I broke off a bit of the inner root and tasted it. Same as the cactus stem, maybe a bit tougher but was at least edible. I washed the base under a tap, cut it up and slipped the pieces into a plastic bag to put in the fridge for a lunch time salad. I returned back to the house and with a shiver of relief I had a well-earned long shower and shave. Carmella was still asleep so I quietly crept into the bathroom for a well-earned scrub and clean up.

Chapter 26

My elder brother Dennis arrived early and unexpectedly with his wife Janice and we were expected to put them up which wasn’t a problem but I didn’t really know him that well. He was ten years my senior and a stepbrother to boot. His mother died when he was a baby and Grandpa and Grandma brought him up so we didn’t meet up much and when we did, the younger sibling always got the rough end of the stick. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him but didn’t know him. He did his own thing and we only met up at a Christmas or when he came to dad for a sub. We didn’t even exchange birthday or Christmas cards so this was going to be a new experience. By the time I was coming over to see my Grandparents in Spain he was off married and getting on with his career. I had asked him to be my best man so this was the first real opportunity to get to know him. At first I was cautious, that as an older brother he would throw his weight about and boss me around but found him and his wife extremely friendly and easy to get on with.

 The four of us sat down the first evening, with a few bottles of wine, and we all got to know each other by recounting our life stories. It was a memorable evening because I found out much about Carmella that I hadn’t yet known. We were far too busy enjoying ourselves and looking to the future to dwell much on our past. Dennis told us that he was fed up of working for other people and wanted to branch out on his own and having come to Spain for my wedding they were going to check out opportunities here. I told him that I wasn’t much of a help there since we were new to Spain ourselves but he should sound out Steve and Antonio who had lots of local business experience.

The round of entertaining family was keeping me very busy. Fortunately Rosario adopted Manolo and Maria and they subsequently spent more time at Antonio’s Cortijo than our place to the consternation of Carmella. It was rather unexpectedly that Steve called round for me to sign some legal papers associated with the lease of the El Monasterio as we now all called it. Once all parties had signed and handed the papers and my initial deposit to the Notary, the property was effectively mine to use. Steve summarised the main terms of the lease which were that I could do whatever I wanted to develop the property on condition that I lost all recompense for expenses should I fail to keep up with the half yearly payments. The financial side was even simpler and advantageous with leaseholder demanding a twenty percent deposit followed by equal payments of twenty percent over two years when the property would become mine. I quickly signed and congratulated Steve on his superb negotiations.

“Right, the only thing outstanding from you young Paulo is to write me a cheque and decide on the start date.”

“The cheque is no problem but when is the earliest that I can get hold of the keys, literally Steve?”

“I’m seeing the Notary on Friday, in two days’ time and you can have the keys in the afternoon.”

“What? So quickly? I thought these things took months.”

“That’s the rub Paulo, you’re not buying the place just renting it and it’s only when you pay the last payment in two years’ time that we have to go through all the rigmarole that you are referring to. Now, it’s your wedding the following weekend so don’t you dare go off to the El Monasterio. You have too much to do here.”

“But Steve, I want to get out there as soon as possible to get on with things.”

“Look Paulo, don’t be in such a rush and also don’t spoil the surprise that Antonio and all of us have in store for you. Now don’t let on, but some of your wedding presents will be found at the Monasterio. I’ll get shot if these people knew I had warned you so be a good boy and act totally surprised. I think you will anyway.”

“But we initially planned to move in there after the wedding night if possible.”    

“True but the plan has changed and you are officially booked into the Paradore at the Alhambra for three nights, all expenses paid but that’s official, so keep to that plan.”

“OK Steve but that’s got me all excited.”

“Well don’t go on about it too much or you’ll give the game away. Concentrate on the wedding and looking after your folks. Your brother came to see me yesterday and I’ve given him some pointers.”

“Thanks again Steve. I err.”

“Don’t thank me it’s just me being neighbourly, anyway I didn’t get to where I am today shooting the breeze with you young Paulo. Adios,” with that he was off.

I raided the fridge for a beer and went off to the shed to hide my excitement and avoid blurting out the news. I hadn’t seen the cacti for a couple of days and found that they were losing their bright green colour and some of the spines had dropped to the floor. I was tempted to pick them up and inspect them but good sense dominated and I just took a few swigs of beer and bade them farewell for the moment as I proceeded to my favourite resting place, the top terrace were I could shout and jump for joy undisturbed without giving the game away.

It was Monday, a fine sunny day with six days to go to the wedding ceremony. I was being side tracked on the arrangements and told by all to keep out of the way. The lab had no slots and dreaming about the future was getting boring and even sitting on the bench on the high terrace, my favourite spot, was getting to be hard and uncomfortable.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said Dennis startling me out of my dreams.

“Hi Den, didn’t hear you creep up.”

“I wasn’t creeping, just you were away with the show folks as Grandpa used to say.”

“Well, I getting fed up of being excluded and I’m getting even bored. Not like me.”

“Well you are at the right place for it. This is where Grandpa used to escape to do all if his best thinking. Don’t get worked up about it. It’s normal around here as you know. When I got married, you must remember, they had to drag me from the semis at the Granada tennis club.”

“Didn’t you used to call him Dad?”

“Yeah, I did but he used to insist I call him Grandfather, Grandpa or Grand pops since I or we still have a father but since I lived with him all the time I really though of them as Mum and Dad. I miss Grandpa, he was a great guy.”

“Yeah, I liked them both. I was surprised he left me this place. I thought he would have left it to you. You were his son. You know what I mean.”

“Now you raise it, I told him to leave it to you since you did all the work around here during your holidays. I was too busy playing tennis and chasing the girls. He left me the ski chalet in the Alps so we both came out well. Now Carmella tells me you are growing some special cacti that nearly killed you. Can you show them to me? I need to know what my little brother is up to. She tells me you are doing research on them and that’s the reason for you wanting the monastery.”

“Yeah, but I’ve cut them down. Let’s go down to Grandpa’s shed and I’ll show you what I’ve been up to with them. The spines will have probably dropped off by now and lost their toxicity but promise you keep a distance. Don’t want to take any chances.”

“I will Paulo, Carmella warned me off already. She’s worried about you working with these things. They are bloody dangerous by all accounts.”

“Well, it is a novel research subject and apart from analysing the substances I would like to produce an antidote to give to the Mexican health care system. A few people still die from accidentally being scratched by them.”

“Why have you stood them up like that?”

“I think the stuff inside ferments and in the wild I saw drunken mice clambering over them. Let’s take a closer look. Here put on these gloves Den.”

“Look, all the spines have dropped off to the floor Paulo. I can’t see any on the stems.”

“Well just be careful and don’t get too close. I want to lift one of them up onto a stool to get it off the ground. Can you lasso it with that pole and rope while I prise it away from the wall. We can then move it safely with the engine trolley.”

“Grandpa would have designed a gantry on wheels for this job. You know how he loved mechanical gadgets. Now where do you want me to put the stool? Why don’t you use the bench over there then you can put them all up off the floor.”

“OK, you position the bench and I’ll lower the stem onto it. That’s it, great. Now I want to drain the liquid off to see what’s been happening inside.”

“There’s plenty of empty plastic water bottles here Paulo and we could stick a bit of copper tube in at the bottom to act as a tap.”

 “You find the bottles and I’ll get the tube. I know where he used to keep it.”

“OK Paulo, we have about four litres of this yellow liquid. What are we going to do with it?”

“Well I’m going to taste some unless you want to be the guinea pig Dennis.”

“No, go ahead mate and I’ll just call the ambulance.”

“It doesn’t taste too bad Dennis, bit like dry white wine. Not as dry as the finos you get around here.”

“Hey, you’ve only wet your finger. I’ll go and get some glasses and we can both die in each other’s arms.”

“Don’t jest Den, I nearly did.”

“Sorry pal, I’ll get the glasses and you can put the cage back and make things safe.”

“Couldn’t find anything smaller. Let’s have a couple of fingers in each for starters.”

“You’re the brave one.”

“Hell, you tasted it and I reckon if the poison is that potent you’d be on the floor with your legs in the air by now.”

“Right just sip it. Don’t take a gulp. Cheers! Salut! Down the hatch! That spell should work!”

“Hey Paulo, it’s not bad. Not too sweet and if we let it settle or strain it, it may clear. Don’t they put egg whites in wine to clear it?”

“I pronounce this quite drinkable Dennis and since your still standing it’s not poisonous, err yet!”

“Hell Paulo, you could get a liking to this. It’s got some alcoholic content I can tell. Maybe between a wine and a beer.”

“I’ll check the specific gravity tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You won’t have any left by tomorrow. Come on let’s have a refill. Don’t be mean brother.”

“I’ll let you into secret but don’t broadcast it please. This flavour is addictive I think. Do you know the salads and gazpacho we make, we put cactus bits in, the young things before they develop spines and become dangerous.”

“You’re right little brother, I knew I had tasted this flavour before but this is far more potent and concentrated. With your soups and salads, they are great but it’s only after you’ve eaten some then you start wanting more. In fact I yearn for your salads now.”

“So you think I’m onto something here. Carmella and I have experimented by making some tasteless soups and stews but adding this ingredient, people keep asking for more.”

“Look Paulo, you know I’m doing a crash catering course, well we had this visiting lecture from a Food Science Department and he talked about addictive substances in food such as sugar, salt, caffeine, monosodium-glutamate and others. He reckons that the big food manufactures and fast food chains spend millions on preparing the right mix of these compounds to hook the people to keep on buying their product. They call it their secret ingredient and here you are growing it wild, in your back garden.”

“Well, I nearly died for it.”

“Is this what your research is all about Paulo?”

“Not really, it’s simply a by-product so far.”

“What a fabulous by-product. How much of this can you produce? We got four litres out of that stem. How long did it take that to grow?”

“About six weeks Den but I think I could grow them about three times this size before cutting. What are you thinking?”

“Look, you know Janice and I are going to set up a pub with restaurant and maybe B and B. With this secret ingredient, I could draw the punters in by the dozen, however bad my food is. You’d better plan to grow lots of these and ship the juice over to me. We’ll make ourselves rich dear brother thanks to you getting spiked.”

“We’ll have to test it and do more trial on it first. It may be just coincidence Den.”

“Hell no! I have the taste for this stuff. Look bro, tomorrow the girls are off on a shopping trip. I’ve arranged for the boys to have some fun over lunch here. Antonio’s bringing a box of sardines to barbeque. Let’s put it to a test. Give them a good swig of this to captivate their taste buds and then get on with our thing. We will also make up several jugs of water with some of this in and see if they like the water. Don’t tell them a thing just put it out, slice of lemon and ice and see how it goes down. The first slug will give them the full on flavour and the water will continue the addiction we hope.” 

“Maybe we should fill the cactus with water and drain it down tomorrow. That will get some flavoured water. There must be some residue left in the things. What do you think?”

“Good thinking. I’ll get some water and you find something to plug the hole with other than your finger.”      

 “By the way, I don’t recall Carmella saying she was going shopping tomorrow?”

“She’s not. Been told to stay at home and rest. Good opportunity for the girls to talk about her, behind her back I reckon.”

Next day Dennis was eager to try the water so we drained the cactus and got about eight litres of liquid which we tasted and diluted to a mild taste and made up twenty litres of doctored water in five litre plastic bottles. These got a squeeze of lemon each and put in the large fridge to cool.  We then got the barbeque going in readiness for the sardines and prepared some extra cheese and chorizo.  The boys arrived all eager for a good time, away from the critical eyes of their better halves and set to cracking open beer and wine. When everyone had assembled Dennis brought out a tray of small tumblers and a bottle of our unadulterated cactus juice which had been tested and displayed a healthy strength of nine percent proof. Dennis announced that this was our special concoction that we had developed and poured a generous measure into each tumbler. He announced a toast to our girls in Granada hoping that they wouldn’t give our credit cards too much of a thrashing. There was a small amount left in the bottle and since everybody liked our cocktail it was shared out as best as we could, then the party began. Lots of chat and merriment as the sardines were grilled and the meats and cheeses devoured. It was hot work so every now and again someone would have a glass of water then another and another. Dennis kept refreshing the jugs and giving me a big knowing wink each time. By the time the box of sardines had been sacrificed on the Barbie all the twenty litres of primed water had gone and people were demanding more. The ordinary water was not to their taste and more than one complained whilst the better mannered asked the make of the bottled water. We just played dumb. The party dispersed about four o’clock which was the time the girls were about to return from their shopping. Dennis and I cleared up and couldn’t help jumping for joy at the results of our experiment.

“Hey Paulo that stuff is dynamite. You will have to plan to increase your output at the Monasterio. To hell with your research, with stuff like that peddled to a mass market we could make a fortune.”

“Never thought of it that way. To me it was just an interesting fact, that’s all.”

“Look my dear brother, I’ve been giving my grey matter a good working over and I’ve come to the conclusion that why should I slave away in dear old Blighty over a hot stove and in wet and cold misery when Janice and me could live over here and enjoy the sunshine.”

“What, you’re thinking of, setting up some place over here?”

“That’s right my boy, a restaurant, open lunchtimes only and peddling only a few dishes, tainted with your fabulous cactus juice. We would give the punters a swig of the concentrate first to whet their appetite and feed them food with only a tinge of that stuff.”

“You really think it would be a success?”

“Paulo, after a few promotional meals they would be flocking back for more. I bet you the lads will be asking for some of your special water tomorrow. That reminds me, shouldn’t we milk the next cactus in line and see what difference an extra few days fermentation does for it?”

“Hey Dennis, will Janice go along with your plan?”

“Sure, she would prefer to live over here instead of the damp and cold of Britain. I’m going to have a chat with Steve on the quiet and see if he has any commercial properties on his books that could convert to a diner for me. Anyway, that way I could keep an eye on you brother.”

“Thanks, I can look after myself.”

“Hey Paulo, don’t take it the wrong way. As an impoverished student it’s my brotherly duty to ensure you get an income to maintain your family and farm. You will have a stake in the venture and I will pay you handsomely for your delicious product, so don’t let me down.”

 “Do you want to live here in Grandpa’s place? You can have it you know. We don’t have to sell it.”

“Nah! This place needs too much upkeep and I’m no gardener. That’s why you got it. Janice and I will settle for some compact villa and live a millionaire life style on the proceeds. Now keep this cactus juice things under wraps brother. Don’t want the secret getting out, just in the close family, OK?”

“OK Dennis, whatever you say.”

  

Chapter 27

On the Thursday before the ceremony on Saturday, Dennis took me to Granada to get a new suit. Everybody reckoned that the only dark suit I had looked awful. Dennis took me to a costume shop which specialised in flamenco apparel.

“Hey, I thought you were going to buy me a suit not this dance getup!”

“Don’t worry brother, ‘no problemo,’ you have to look snazzy in your outfit since Carmella is going to be wearing a sort of flamenco outfit too. It’s only right that you should follow suit.”

“Yeah, but I will look an idiot in one of those.”

“Paulo, the locals know you as the ‘flamenco kid,’ so it’s only natural that you please them. It’s only once and you can ditch it afterwards. They will all be happy for you.”

“Last I wore one of those was when I was just a kid.”

“Yes we know, that’s when you had the hots for Antonio’s eldest daughter Leticia. Grandpa and the rest of us used to have a great laugh over that. Did you ever get anywhere with her?”

“Yeah, I got a peck on the cheek when we won a competition together. I didn’t wash for a month I remember.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, once I got a glimpse of the top of her knickers and bra when she asked me to zip up her dress.”

“That sounds exciting!”

“It was, for a thirteen year old, I was ecstatic for months after that, kept me going hoping for more.”

“Well I hope your flamenco is up to scratch because Leticia will be there on Saturday with her brood.”

“So I expect we will have to give a demonstration then?”

“I’m sure of it, that’s why I have brought you here so at least you look a well-dressed twerp. Come on Paulo, it’s only for a day. Enjoy it and join in the fun. They won’t be laughing at you; they will be laughing with you.”

“OK, OK Dennis, you have convinced me but I want something quite sober not these outrageous costumes.”

“Don’t worry Paulo; I won’t have you looking like a clown, not when we are going to be in business together. Now that reminds me, I was to ask you to make up a curry and a chilli. One of your specialities and make enough for about fifty portions.”

“What? Fifty! We haven’t a pan big enough for that quantity.”

“The caterers are providing us with pans and I’m going to make my paella speciality or at least prepare it and the caterers will finish it off on the day.”

“But why fifty portions?”

“There will be hundreds of people attending. You know how the mountain and the locals like a party. They’ll all be there and we have to put on a good show. I thought we might doctor ours with your magic potion and check out the results. What do you think?”

“But we’ll have to get the ingredients and things.”

“Paulo, just give me a list and the caterers will supply, all you need to do is to supervise them and sneak in a bottle of the cactus juice when they are not looking.” 

“OK, then but that’s given me an idea for your business. Why don’t you open a restaurant specialising in just paella. That would keep your menu simple.”

“Brother, you are brilliant, not just a pretty face. That’s exactly what I’ll do, serve only paella and lunch times only, a couple of sitting, one for the Europeans at twelve and the second for the Spaniards at about three. Close up shop at six and count the takings. Brilliant of you my son.”

“Don’t you think we should test our water on the unsuspecting?”

“Definitely, it will be like you turning water into wine. Prepare about twenty of those five litre bottles. I’ll get the caterers to bring some and I’ll leave you to sneak some potion into it. We’ll then see if people drink the wine and beer instead of the water.”   

         

Chapter 27

  The wedding was a huge affair, far bigger than I ever imagined. The locals on the mountain and their Spanish friends would drop everything for a good party and this was going to be a highlight of the year, since the General’s grandson was getting married. I realised how well respected he was in the community. I felt awkward in my semi-flamenco suit but Carmella looked just gorgeous and I’ve never seen her so radiant. She had her black hair up, decorated with a Spanish rose and her polka dot flamenco dress just suited her curves. I was a proud man that day. The whole thing started as a procession up to the Danish villa, led by a band, followed by the local flamenco troupe doing their routines. It quickly degenerated to a messy stroll as people congratulated us and wished us well. I haven’t been hugged and kissed so much in my life. Everybody was in a party mood and it seemed hundreds had turned out. Even the local police, the Guardia Civil had turned out in their best uniform and attempted to control the traffic. In the end people just seemed to leave their cars in the middle of the road and joined the throng.

 Suddenly I was accosted by a beautiful Spanish woman who grabbed me in a bear hug and proceeded kiss me fully on the mouth. The surrounding group seemed to enjoy the sight particularly my brother who was whipping up the crowd to clap and cheer. I quickly realised that this was Leticia who no doubt had been primed. She then introduced her two daughters and I realised what an age difference there was between us.

Eventually we got to the Danish villa and a quick ceremony was performed by the local priest on the balcony, in full view of the throng. The whole proceedings were about two hours behind schedule and the people were anxious to attack the magnificent banquet prepared for them.  I noticed Dennis on the phone talking to the caterers and ushering people along back to our house, not that they needed much persuasion. The people lined up at our gates as we processed through and they threw petals, rice and confetti over us. As soon as we were through the gates we were met by what seemed hundreds of waiters and waitresses in black and white uniforms holding trays of sparkling cava and other drinks. The serious bit was over and there was a melee trying to get the best seats and grabbing drinks, even the tables were groaning under the weight of bottles. Carmella and I were ushered to the top table on one of the higher terraces and joined by our family and close friends. Later Manolo and Maria were ushered away to join the Antonio clan so I didn’t have to worry about ensuring that they were fully part of the celebrations.

 Large trays of tapas were brought out as starters and suddenly the noise level abated for a moment as people filled their mouths but soon the noise rose in crescendo to the usual high decibels, typical of any Spanish gathering. I began noticing the smell of food pervading the atmosphere. There was the sweet smell of pork and lamb roasted on a spit and the all-pervading pungent smell of sardines, barbequing over an open fire. Carmella and I were warned by Dennis not to go down to the food counters where people were helping themselves. He said it was mayhem in the usual friendly Spanish manner but to the uninitiated looked like a pitched battle. Waiters brought us trays of various foods and the tradition was for us to try each dish and pronounce it’s worthiness to serve. The food was delicious and we had the best cuts. The roast kid on a spit was to die for. Unlike true English banquets there was no formality or order to the menu and different foods appeared in any order. A large bowl of goulash was set down and Dennis nudged me, whispering that our Dad had made this dish, a speciality of his, and that it had been doctored unbeknownst to anybody. Very quickly, the throng meandered in our direction to further wish us well and good fortune plus help themselves to choice bits of food off our table. I asked Dennis if we would run out of food with all these people present. He assured me that the caterers had over catered if anything, plus the enormous dishes we had prepared ourselves. Once the main courses were almost over Carmella and I had to parade around all the tables and seating areas to ensure that our guests were being well looked after. This meant that at each table I was offered a drink as part of a toast to my wealth, health and happiness. Carmella had an excuse but I had to go along with the show and was quickly beginning to feel more than merry. I have never seen so many people at a gathering. Dennis assured me that they were all friends of the family and not just gate crashers.

 My good brother noticed my predicament with the drink and followed us around with a bottle of what looked like red wine and ensured he poured me a glass before we approached the next group. With a full glass of red innocuous cola, I was able to knock it back in one go, to the applause of the gathering. I suddenly realised what useful things older brothers were. We eventually did a tour of the field kitchens to thank the staff and caterers. Dennis made a point of asking for some more paella, goulash, chilli and curry and was sadly told that they had a run on these things and they had all gone. What a shame! The head chef took Dennis aside and grilled him to tell where he had got the water. People were demanding more of it and they had run out of it, but the replacement bottles of the same brand didn’t satisfy the populace. Dennis gave me a good thump on the back and danced a jig with Carmella announcing that she had married the cleverest man in the world.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the flares and lights were lit, the evening entertainment began with the band striking up a Spanish ditty. Initially the young children rushed up onto the makeshift dance floor and pranced around to the amusement of their elders. Soon the adults followed until the whole area was a mirage of gyrating bodies under the flickering of the flares. After an hour or so the band stopped for refreshments and it was the turn of Antonio and Steve on guitars and Antonio’s son on the box drum. Soon other guitarists miraculously joined them with their instruments until there was an impromptu band led by Antonio who every now and again shouted directions. It sounded wonderful. Soon women would join the band and sing a number and occasionally an older man was persuaded to sing the local flamenco. I was quite used to it and it didn’t grate on the ears as it would to a first comer. Slowly, as if directed by Antonio, people would clap out the rhythm in the special way. I could never get the hang of when one should clap and when one should cease but the locals seemed to know these things by instinct.

Antonio stopped the music and invited Carmella to join them. One of Antonio’s sons handed her a guitar and she proceeded to play and sing some Mexican numbers whilst the band of guitarists strummed along with her. Occasionally one would accentuate the ending of her phrase with a solo. This all went down well with the onlookers and my back was getting blue from the congratulations I was receiving for finding and bringing into the fold such a talent and beauty. Suddenly Leticia appeared and dragged me up in front of the band, to raucous applause and cheers of the crowd. I was expecting to be asked to make a speech when the impromptu band broke into a well-known flamenco tune and Leticia started strutting her stuff to the immediate applause of the crowd. Suddenly Carmella shouted for me to wake up and join in the dance, that I realised what the evening was all about. The Flamenco Kid had to perform for the enjoyment of the gathered. Fortunately flamenco allows total freedom in expression so I didn’t have to follow a set pattern but perform how I felt. With lots of liquid Dutch courage inside me, I strutted around Leticia like a wounded bull and as she paused I would break into a dance of my own making. It went down well and the crowd joined in with encouraging ‘Ole’s’ and rhythmic clapping. After what seemed an eternity others joined in and we sat out. Leticia congratulated me on my dancing and suggested we compete together again. Carmella joined us and we found a quiet spot and let Leticia bring us up to date on her life. She had finished college and was now a teacher in Jaen, married to an architect and had two lovely daughters. The conversation then turned to my expense, as she described how I was infatuated by her and how she inveigled me to join the local flamenco club who were short of male dancers. We got a pressing invitation to go and visit them and assured them we would.

The evening turned into night and the festivities slowly came to an end as the sun was about to break. The ground was littered with discarded plates, glasses, bottles and the odd fellow asleep on the ground. Dennis suggested to my relief that we should quietly disappear or else people would demand more music and dancing. My brother, Janice and Carmella managed to drag, carry, porter me home to my bed. I remember falling on the bed full length and Carmella shaking me with something important to tell me.

“Paulo, Paulo I have some important news for you,” said Carmella shaking me awake. All I could muster was a bleary, “What?”

“We are going to have twins!” I remember sitting bolt upright with the shock and suddenly, in defensive reaction, falling back in heavy sleep. I had encountered a similar experience when on a flight to San Francisco during the Chinese New Year. The plane was full of Chinese going to visit family and friends. The passengers were already in party mood and the hostesses had difficulty getting them to sit and not wander about the plane. A mother thrust her baby into my arms on the pretence to go and get a drink. The baby took one look at me and opened its mouth wide to let rip when it obviously decided that it might be safer to take another course of avoiding action and promptly fell asleep, to my relief.          

Chapter 28

We got up at noon, or at least I did with a heavy hangover. Carmella brought me some fresh squeezed orange juice and I slowly recounted what she had told me and asked how she knew. She told me she had been for a check-up and the doctor had been puzzled by two heart beats. I told Carmella truthfully that I wasn’t sure what I thought at that moment but as long as she was well, it didn’t really matter to me other than the surprise. She told me to get a shower and we would be off to our new home at the monastery. Antonio was going to drive us there. So the stay at the Paradore had been all a hoax. 

It was closer to three before we departed and I felt better for it, feeling more recovered after downing a pot full of strong black coffee. Antonio drove and quickly we were joined by a cavalcade of motor with two Guardia Civil outriders leading the way on motor bikes.

“Why all the people and cars?” I asked innocently.

“They are coming to see our new house and have lunch,” answered Carmella.

“Oh!” was all I could muster. We turned off the main road and onto the track and I immediately noticed that a heavy bulldozer had been over this and flattened out the potholes and shoved away the landslides. As we turned off onto the lane leading to the monastery I expected Antonio to slow down since the road got worse but he carried on at the same pace behind the motorcycles. Seeing the look of disbelief on my face, Antonio commented, “We done some work on road to prepare it for you.” I could see that. The lane was widened and flattened with concrete channels to remove the water and stop the road being washed away. It brought to mind Grandpa’s saying from his army days, ‘It moves salute it, if not paint it.” In Spain it would be ‘concrete it.’ The transformation was amazing and even more so when we drove through the large gates and into the courtyard which was totally unrecognisable. Instead of mountains of rubble and debris, that had disappeared to be replaced by neat rows of fruit trees in pots and the cobbled court yard clean and sparkling.

“How do you like this then Paulo?” asked Steve as I stood there in amazement. “Antonio and his mates have been busy for you.”

“I can see that. When was all this done? And why wasn’t I involved?” 

“You had to keep your strength up for the wedding Paulo and anyway you might have slowed down the progress.” I rushed over to Antonio, shaking his hand and thanking him profusely.

“It is nothing Paulo, nothing. We did it for you and Carmella. You have to live nice now Paulo.”

“They’ve done a great job in the short time haven’t they brother? Antonio had all his men in to do this,” said Dennis. “Part of his wedding present to both of you.”

“Has he supplied the trees too?”

“Some, but most have come from our good neighbours to replace the dead ones.”

“That’s wonderful Dennis but how am I to repay them?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that. They are the wedding presents. I told friends and neighbours that my brother had no need for silver trays and canteens of gold cutlery but he could do with a good start. People donated trees, building materials or their time in labour and were happy to do that. You should see what they’ve done to the insides.”

“Wow! I’m amazed by the transformation.”

“Come on brother, you now have to perform an important task of carrying your bride across the thresh-hold. Come on, do your duty.” I gently lifted Carmella and we steered a path to the old farm building. On entering I immediately smelt the whiff of strong disinfectant and paint. Sure enough the place had been transformed into a very habitable dwelling.

“You can put me down now and move over and let the people come in and see.”  It looked very comfortable, clean and homely. I recognised some of the furniture from Grandpa’s place but the other pieces looked used but very serviceable. Janice took Carmella to show her around and Dennis whispered,

“You though they were shopping. They were all here with their mops and paintbrushes transforming the place to give you two a good start. When they have finished here, we’ll take you to see the main building. Ronaldo here will be your tour guide.” Dennis winked at Ronaldo who beamed and nodded his head in agreement. Ronaldo took Carmella’s arm and led her into the main block.

“We managed to get some of the apartments ready just in case you would rather live in a more modern home,” said Ronaldo as he showed Carmella through an impressively carved door and into the apartment. We all trooped in after them. “This one is for you and the next door is for your parents since they are staying with you for a while. Have a look around.”

“Wow Paulo, don’t you think they have done a good job for us?”

“Sure Carmella. Are you going to choose?”

“I think I would prefer to live in the farm house with the garden next door, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine by me, but who is going to use this fabulous apartment?”

“Our guests Paulo. A lot of people will want to come and visit. Let’s go and see where my parents are going to stay next door.” This was a similar to ours and already Carmella’s parents had put a mark on the place.”

“They’ve been here helping in the transformation,” added Steve helpfully. “A couple of the cells on this floor have been made habitable for the workers.”

“Who can afford workers?”

“Paulo, you will need help to start with. You have the fencing to do and all the trees to plant. You can’t do all that on your own,” added Steve.

“Come on everybody,” shouted Janice, “The lunch is set out in the refectory downstairs. Let’s eat and then we can have time to look around later.” The two policemen were the first to lead the charge down the stairs. Again the strong smell of cleaning fluids hit my nostrils and the place had truly been cleaned up. The tables had been pushed together and were now heaving with food. Ladies were scurrying to and fro from the kitchen, bringing platters of food and setting it out on the tables. I purposefully sat next to Carmella’s Dad, Manolo and was determined to get to know him better. He was pleased to be here he told me and also to be active. He told me that he would like me to keep him busy since he got bored quickly. I assured him that I would love him to help since there was a lot to do. Grandma came over and announced that she would be staying for a few days to savour the monastic life and see to my kitchen garden. Carmella’s mother Maria immediately offered her help. It looked as if everything was truly rosy in our garden.

  I took Dennis aside and asked him, “Dennis, why is Antonio so helpful. He’s not even family and the whole thing is far beyond being just neighbourly?”

“Didn’t Dad tell you? Obviously not. Well many years ago when Dad or Grandpa came over here, there was immense poverty everywhere and only the incomers were bringing in any wealth. Grandpa was accosted by Antonio on the streets of Orgiva begging for work not money. Our Grandparents had just bought the Cortijo and needed lots of work doing so he took him on and his wife to clean the place up and tend to the garden and things. Since he found them more than satisfactory, he found them more work with the growing Ex Pat community.”

“Where did he learn his English? It’s so good and so is Ronaldo’s and Leticia’s,”

“They were all encouraged to learn at least English to get them work and it’s stood them in good stead. Now let me continue, eventually Grandpa bought them the farm to be paid for as they earned the money. Since odd jobbing didn’t bring home much bread and him being a civil engineer he introduced Antonio to the building trade and taught him as he taught me to never get your hands dirty, once you’ve mastered the task yourself. Let somebody else do the grafting for you.”

“I experienced that with Grandpa ordering me about.”

“Ah, but you were still in the learning mode. Once you mastered the task he got labourers in to do the heavy stuff and you got to bossing them about.”

“That’s true, though at the time I didn’t see it that way.”

“That’s why Janice and me are doing crash courses so that we understand the basics and then we can make decisions for other people. Anyway, Antonio earned enough spare cash to pay Grandpa back apart from One Peseta. The story goes he wanted to be indebted to our grandparents for all of his life. That’s why he’s good to us, probably feels he still owes us. His biggest job was building the place for the Danes. Grandpa drew up the plans and supervised the building as Antonio watched and learned. I’m going to get him to build a villa for me if things go well.”

“I thought you were looking at some places already.”

“We have and decided to rent for the moment whilst ours is being built. We have also put in an offer for a restaurant in Orgiva and a huge house with a central courtyard near the town centre. They call them palacios around here. Janice wants to run the place as a boutique hotel with apartments set around the courtyard.

“Can you afford all that Dennis? That’s going to set you back a packet isn’t it?”

“Sure, prices are much higher than they used to be but I made a packet building up and selling your Dad’s engineering business. I also made a bomb out of turning around an American offshoot. The Senior Management there got worried by this English upstart and offered me a golden handshake of three years’ salary to pull up my roots and go.”

“And I felt sorry for you when I heard you were made redundant.”

“Yeah, but you brother, were kicked out for spending so much time on your death bed and seducing an employee or was it the Company nurse? Now go and chat to Antonio, he has a proposition or favour to ask. Make it easy for him Paulo.”

“Hi Antonio, the place looks wonderful. You have worked miracles on it.”

“Not me Paulo. I get my people to do all the hard work. I’m just the boss.”

“And a very good boss you are.”

“Paulo, when do you want to start on this huge fence?”

“As soon as possible Antonio. It now needs to cover a bigger area, another terrace.”

“OK, I will come out tomorrow with the men and we will mark it out. A digger will come to fix the posts. You still want to bury the fence?”

“Yes Antonio, don’t want anything burrowing underneath.”

“You want razor wire on top?”

“Yeah, but just one strand. I don’t want to make it look like a prison. Add some barbed wire to the top on the overhang. I don’t want people to even think about trying to get in. Do you understand?”

“Yes Paulo, but it will cost.”

“Don’t worry about that. If anybody should get in, it would cost me more.”

“OK, then I’ll get them to concrete in the wire at the base. You put some Rotweilers inside to frighten off intruders Paulo.”

“Good idea, can you get some for me?”

“I will find you some big ones. Now I have a big favour to ask you Paulo.”

“What is it? Fire away Antonio, we are after all neighbours.”

“And friends also. I have a relative living in Madrid. He has lost his job and lost his way in the big city. Family want to bring him down here to help him along. Can he come and work for you Paulo?”

“Sure, no problem. Has he got family up there?”

“Yes, wife and two children and we will look after them.”

“Look Antonio, I would want someone to live on site. If the family come they could live in the main building, there’s bags of room here as you know.”

 “Thank you Paulo, I will introduce him to you. He is here. I will get him and he speaks good English. All family speak good English. Wife Rosario, the big boss, insists.”

“Paulo meet Oscar.”

“Pleased to meet you Oscar, Antonio tells me you want to work here?”

“Yes Mr. Paulo, I would like that very much. Antonio says you want me to live here. That would be very nice. Antonio says I must convert rooms for my family. Is that OK?”

“Yes if you like or you can stay in one of the finished apartments.”

“No Mr. Paulo, Antonio say I have to do it for myself. He say I have to help you with the orchards and planting trees and vines. My wife will help Mrs. Paulo.”

“Vines, what vines?”

“Paulo, I have ordered two hundred vines for you. You need quick cash crop until trees mature. I buy the grapes and make you good wine, OK?”

“If you say so Antonio. I’m still bewildered by the progress we have made so far. We need to fix the water if we are to plant the trees and vines.”

“Done already Paulo. Quick fix as you say, a pipe to river and pump up to water deposit until we fix the pipe upstream. Plenty of good water here Paulo, straight from Sierra Nevada and God. Now you go and keep your good wife company. She is being dragged away from you by other people. Thank you again Paulo.”

“Did you know about all this Carmella, all this work done for us?”

“Well I was amazed just like you Paulo but I suspected something when Janice went off shopping in her tatty jeans, carrying a mop and bucket.”

“I knew something was afoot since they wouldn’t send us out here without at least getting the farmhouse ready for us.”

“How are your parents taking it?”

“They are over the moon with their apartment and if you don’t mind Paulo, they would like to stay on a bit longer.”

“I don’t mind but your father has already talked to me about working here. Will you sort out a reasonable wage for him. I already have taken on Oscar and family and I’ll have to pay them something.”

“I know, I know, Dennis told me. It’s great if we can help somebody like that. Will you have enough money for all this Paulo?”

“Given that we sell the house quickly then I have enough capital to see us through. Dennis has some business ideas that he wants me to join in so we should have enough to live on whilst I’m finishing my research. After that we can choose what we want to do as a family of four. I still can’t get over that!”

“Hasn’t Steve told you? He’s already sold the farm to a Swiss couple, retired doctors and he is getting Antonio to install a swimming pool for them. That way he got a better price. The extra is being spilt three ways, us, Antonio and Steve. Only fair that they should get something out of this deal and we here are getting about a dozen fruit trees from the area where they are going to build the pool.”

“I wish people would tell me. I seem to be in the dark about everything.”

“You and Dennis were too busy scheming things so Steve decided to tell you later, after the wedding but since you raised the matter then I had to tell you. Don’t look so hurt, you know it’s how they do things around here. Now give me a kiss and cheer up. You were totally useless as a groom on the wedding night.”

“Sorry Carmella, but they got me drunk! I had no excuse unlike you.”

“Well I hope you make up for it tonight. Now go and speak to your Mum and Dad. I think they also have a surprise for you.”         

We had that evening to ourselves, well not quite; Carmella’s Mum and Dad joined us for a glass of cava and some tapas. With all the food and wine we had consumed the day before, nobody was in the mood to cook or prepare anything special. We just carved thin slices off a leg of Serrano ham and chunks of the local manchego cheese to make things easy. Carmella’s parents soon made their excuses and left us to ourselves for once in what seemed like years. The silence was deafening and only spoilt by the occasional contented grunt which we put down to the pigs in the adjoining kitchen garden, our automatic ploughing and weeding machines.

“Did you know that Ronaldo has given us a flock of laying hens? We need to make a pen for them so that the foxes don’t get them.”

“Don’t they need a hen hut to spend their night in and lay their eggs?”

“Ronaldo says there is one here already, we just need to fence them in.”

“That’s no problem. We will have a man proof compound here soon, I hope.”

“Do you know anything about keeping hens Carmella, cos I don’t?”

“Neither do I but I remember Mum keeping hens once. She can look after them but she’s not going in with the cacti, do you hear!”

“Oh, I hear alright. I’ve already ordered two sets of plastic, full suited body armour on the internet and nobody is going anywhere near those things without full protection.”

“Glad to hear it. I am still worried though. Accidents can happen.”

“Well, I can assure you that I’ve planned everything to ensure they don’t. You can even check out the risk assessment sheets I’ve prepared if you are still worried. These things will be handled with care and mechanically, at a distance. I’m going to get a forklift truck with attachments to handle the cacti without getting close.”

“What if the hens get poisoned?”

“I’ve thought of that. I shall grow the cacti in those large plastic pots that the trees came in.”

“But don’t hens fly up and flutter about.”

“I’ll stand the pots on concrete blocks to help with drainage and maybe put some bird frighteners around the rim. You know, those bendy plastic things that birds can’t roost on. I’ll work something out.”

“Paulo, I’m dog tired, let’s take a bottle of red wine and go and laze in the bath and relax a bit.”

“Sounds a brilliant idea, I now know why I married you.”

“I thought you just wanted a nursemaid.”

“That too! I’ll get the wine and glasses you run the bath Mrs. Paulo.”

“Yes Sir! Mr. Paulo!”

Chapter 29

Next day we woke up to quite a commotion outside. The Spanish are never quiet at the best of times but this was quite a din. I pulled on a pair of shorts, T-shirt and in flip-flops rushed outside to quell a riot. About twenty men were milling about Antonio, all talking at once. When they saw me they fell silent and looked to Antonio to take the lead. He told me that they were organising themselves into teams to put the fences up. The materials had arrived in two lorries, followed by the usual huge concrete lorry. A digger driver and a dump truck driver were chewing at their bit ready for the off. Antonio asked me to mark out the line of the fence and gave me a couple of white paint spray cans and I was to mark out the desired route. I rushed off to get my boots on to ward off against the sharp and spiky weeds and on return found a group of men, with Antonio carrying large metal fence posts. I marked out a gate position and then followed the general line of the terraces as Antonio paced the distance between posts and marked the spot with a gouge in the soil made with his pick axe.

 I quickly got the idea and started putting down the odd white spot rather than a line. Men followed Antonio and put down posts at a distance from the marks. As I climbed up the hill, I looked back and saw the digger already digging out the trench and men holding up posts whilst others were pouring concrete. I reached the highest point and waited for Antonio to catch up. I wanted the line of fence to run along the side of the ravine but I didn’t think the digger could work in such dangerous locations. Antonio just shook his head and told me to carry on. The digger driver would have to look after himself and I was not to worry, so much then for ‘health and safety at work’ in Spain.

On returning to the start point, at least a couple of dozen post were in place and men were doing final adjustments to get them in line and bracing them with timbers so that they set properly in the concrete. The digger driver was being urged to dig the trench faster as the dumper truck was bringing up the concrete. Other men were busy carrying and positioning great coils of wire, whilst another team were positioning a pair of double gates. Manolo and Oscar arrived to join in the general chaos. I told them I needed a small hen proof enclosure inside the main compound so that the hens wouldn’t eat up my seedlings. I told them we were going to get a delivery of hens and needed to find the hen hut and position it near the compound so that we could easily turn the hens out to fend for themselves during the day. They went off to find the said hen hut as Antonio completed his circuit. I told him about the hens and he laughed, adding that he had brought some chicken wire for the purpose but if we were going to let them roam free on the compound then he had plenty for my needs.

I went off to mark out my nursery plot and also the area I would cultivate the small cacti for the table. By the time I had finished a group of men were carrying a large hen hut and the dumper truck followed loaded up with concrete blocks. Oscar explained that they were going to position the hut close to the compound within a small fenced off area. A hole in the main fence would allow the hens access to the main area. I left them to it, what did I know about chickens other than enjoying them roasted. I went back to our new home to tell Carmella about all the activity to find that she had gone off somewhere. Manolo told me the women had gone off to the old refectory area which was where I found them preparing lunch for the workmen. I left them to it and went off to find Antonio who confronted me in high dungeon saying that the women were going to spoil his men and that the lunch must not be longer than one hour. I told him he better tell them that news himself. I wondered where the notion that Spanish workmen were lazy and good for nothing originated, no sign of it here.

A hand clamped my shoulder and spun me around. “Found you at last, you seem to be everywhere at once. Slow down brother let Antonio do the worrying for you.”   

  “Hi Dennis, what are you doing here. I thought you would be off organising villas and restaurants.”

“I’m at a loose end and I’ve got my minions doing the chasing for me. Janice has got a job as a receptionist at a local hotel to get some experience so I thought I would go and see how my partner is doing and if he’s holding up his end of the deal, lots of ‘busy’ going on around here I see.”

“Let me show you around and you can give it the once over. Any helpful comments might be appreciated. Antonio and his troupe are on full steam ahead.”

“Where are the girls? Have they gone off already?”

“No, they are busy cooking up lunch for the workers so you’d better look lively if you want to be counted as a worker.”

“I’ll stay for lunch but tell me, where you are going to prepare the magic juice. It needs to be done on an industrial scale for the quantity I will need.”

“I thought of using the workshop area in the under build. It’s quite massive, let’s go down and have a good look. There’s bags of space down there and I haven’t looked and explored the place properly yet.”

“Come on then. You will need some proper racks to hold the cacti whilst they ferment not one of Grandpas old benches. Get Ronaldo to make them up for you.”

“Hold your horses; I’ve yet to come up with a safe method of handling them. I will have to devise a machine like a forklift truck to move them about so that nobody needs to get close to them. I’ve already ordered some full body armour so that there will be no accidents. Anyway it will be six weeks to a couple of months before we will be ready to harvest and I’d rather grow some bigger ones. Ones at least two meters high and at this stage, I don’t know how fast they will grow, especially with winter approaching.”

“Brother, plan to harvest some early whatever the size and grow some on. The quicker you can provide me with that gold liquor the quicker I will make your fortune. Go down to Antonio’s and see his set up. He’s got huge stainless steel tanks for his wine. We might need something like that for holding and processing the stuff. I’ll fund it all Paulo and you can pay me back sometime out of the millions we make.”

“You’re very confident over this.”

“Paulo, I can smell a money making venture and this just reeks of gold.”

“Hey you two, what are you doing down here, lunch is being served upstairs and you’ll miss out.”

“Hi Carmella, just ensuring my business partner is doing his stuff. Come on Paulo, let’s join the others.

By the end of the day all the post had been set in concrete and loose wires had been positioned ready to be to be tightened the next day. Rolls of wire netting had been unravelled ready to be put up and the hen house took pride of place standing high on concrete blocks ready for its flock. Antonio said the men would be back next day to work longer since by then the concrete would have set and they can then start stretching the wiring and fixing the wire mesh and topping it off with barbed wire and razor wire. He reckoned that they would be finished next day with only a few men left to tidy up and ensure the mesh was secure.

The following day, I had an appointed session at the lab so was off early and only returned late at night so Carmella had to recount the progress made. She told me the hens had arrived and had been locked up in the hut and would be kept there to acclimatise and set up home. That way they would return at night for final feed and to be locked up so that they would lay lots of eggs for us. Oscar had been nominated as chief poultry manager and we were all looking forward to reap the rewards, with free range eggs by the dozen or so we hoped. 

Chapter 30

The next morning we slept in and only surfaced about nine thirty. I made a pot of coffee and took it outside on the small terrace to enjoy the morning sunshine whilst Carmella got ready. As I surveyed my bountiful estate with some pride and pleasure I was accosted by my Grandma, mother and Maria all looking rather cross.

“You’re up at last I see!” spoke Grandma rather sarcastically. “I’m here to do my garden and there are pigs roaming around in there Paul.”

“Yes Grandma, they are my automatic ploughing, weeding and fertilising system all in one.”

“Don’t jest with me Paul, just get them out of there, now!” she said testily.

“Yes Grandma, but I will need some help from you ladies. I can’t do it on my own.”

“Certainly not, we are not going in there with those beasts, Dad will help you, he’s just unloading the rotavator, now be sharp about it.” I took a gulp of coffee and jumped up to find Dad. He was being helped by Oscar and was just showing him how it operated.

“Dad, Oscar, Grandma wants us to move the pigs out of the way. I need some help.”

“Hi son, I suppose that means drop everything and do her bidding. That’s why Grandpas favourite place was high up on his terrace where he pretended he couldn’t hear her shouting for him. OK, let’s get on with it but where are you going to put them. Can’t just let them roam free.” 

“Why don’t you let them loose in the compound Paulo? They can keep the weeds down there.”               

 “Good thinking Oscar, now I know why I employ you. Ah, here comes Manolo, he can help. With four of us this should get the critters into the compound in jiffy.”

Those were the famous last words because these creatures had taken a liking to their bit of paradise and when we opened the gates to let them rush out they poked their pink snouts out and decided that they didn’t like the look of the of the outside world for some reason and turned tail and scarpered back to their mud bath. No amount of enticing with titbits would make them budge. We then had to resort to isolating one and trying to push it in the direction of the gate opening. It was going smoothly until the clever beast understood our ploy and ran forward to the gate and then suddenly doubled back at full speed like a good rugby forward. How do you stop a pig in full flight, well it just hit me where it hurts and knocked me over straight into a pile of smelly mud and pig shit.

 We armed ourselves with sticks and managed to drive the smallest one out and into the compound. We didn’t have time to congratulate ourselves when Gran shouted that we should stop dawdling and get on with it. The ladies had got themselves grandstand places by standing on a bench and looking over the wall. I didn’t realise that pigs were so intelligent. They certainly outwitted us with the outlandish strategy of complying with our wishes, then at the last moment, scuppering our plans by escaping when our guard was down. With much brute forced and much use of the stick we eventually got better of our second and third target. The fourth easily outwitted us and we were at our wits end. We tried rugby tackles but the monster just stepped out of the grasp and left us sprawling in the mud. Tackling around the legs was useless and grasping the broad back meant that we were taken for a ride to the nearest mud hole where the beast just rolled over pressing us into the mire. Eventually we resorted to all the tactics we could muster and managed to lift the poker off the ground and cart it ignominiously, squealing and into the compound. The last one was easy. Finding itself all alone and probably lonely, it trotted out under its own power and joined its mates. We did a high five at our success and laughed at the muddy state we were in but our joy was short lived. 

“You took your time!” was the first comment from Grandma then, “Your Dad will rotovate the ground first and then I want raised beds built. I can’t be bothered with bending down so much at my age.”

“Yes Grandma,”

“Another thing, why have you built this horrid fence, it’s like a prison. Get rid of it!”

“Grandma, it’s part of my research project and I need it to keep people out.”

“I don’t like it. Go and study something else that doesn’t need props like that!” she added testily. Fortunately Carmella came to my rescue and took Grandma aside and probably explained what I was up to. I just took the excuse to exit stage quickly to help Dad move the rotator, but she still managed a riposte.

“And get yourself cleaned up, you smell awful!” The four of us looked at each other and laughed. We did look dirty and smelly, having rolled around in mud and pig shit for an hour or so. Dad and I went off for a shower and change of clothes to the house, Oscar and Manolo did the same to their abodes but it was a futile gesture since Grandma had us back in the mud bath, digging the soil and piling it up into raised beds. I wished we had a mechanical shovel. The work was back breaking and relentless under the eagle eye of the boss. I didn’t have the courage to suggest to Grandma that Carmella and I didn’t really need raised beds in our kitchen garden. When we had finished we were simple told to clean up since Carmella and Maria had made some lunch.

Chapter 31

I had hoped that now we were married and living in a remote place Carmella and I would have some peaceful time together with a small gathering for lunch of maybe four, six at the most but oh no Dennis turned up, followed by Ronaldo with some excuse of helping Oscar and then to cap it all three Guardia Civil turn up in a small car just to say ‘Hola’. Carmella decided to tell all of our exploits with the pigs. The Guardia Civil joined in by waving their pistols suggesting that if they were there they would have converted the pokers into Serrano ham. All in all it was a jolly lunch and I felt better for it. I was sitting next to Manolo, Carmella’s dad, who was a quiet person and kept much to himself. I took a liking to him. He wanted to know if he could do anything to help in any way. I suggested he go down to the under build and start clearing out the junk and that I needed at least two bays clear. He brightened up with being given something useful to do. He was a hard worker as Carmella had told me.

 Dennis came up to sit beside us and told me he had brought the three cacti carcases and the spine for me from my old abode. He said he remembered that I had told him that animals and birds loved the cacti and suggested I give the carcases to the chickens and just see what they made of them. We got an axe and split the cacti in two and found a fibrous mush inside. Dennis had to taste some and pronounced it bland but edible, probably, if cooked. We broke up the spines into little pieces with a hammer and took the lot and dumped it in the chicken pen. As usual the hens all flocked around not to miss a good feed and started pecking at the shells. Soon they were all busy clearing out the mush and greedily fighting off their neighbours quite ferociously. Dennis and I looked at each other with knowing looks and watched the display of ferocity in the way the chickens guarded their territory. As usual they overdid the fighting of their nearest adversary and others took advantage of the freed up space at the carcase.  We agreed they liked the magic flavour as much as we humans did.

“Now Paulo, do you think the magic flavour will pass through to say the eggs or the meat?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“But you’re the expert Paulo. Devise some test that proves it.”

“Or disprove it!”

“Don’t be a pessimist; always look at the positive side. If it does then we are onto our second winner. Addictive poultry meat, what do you think of that then?”

“We’ll have to check it out properly, just chucking some dead cactus bit isn’t going to prove it but when we have our next crop I will check the chemical content of the remains including the spines and do some comparative tests and until then you can just dream on Dennis.”

“Fair enough, I’m off to find Oscar. I need to know when his wife and kids are coming.”

Chapter 32

“A penny for your thoughts Paulo.”

“Oh, hi Carmella. I was just thinking of the times in Mexico when I was watching the devil mice being hunted down by the birds of prey when they had got drunk, on the fermented cactus juice. I wondered if it the juice affected their flavour?”

“There, I was thinking you might have had more romantic thoughts. Have you seen Dad?”

“Yeh, he’s down in the under build clearing the place up for me. He isn’t half a worker. I need you to find some way of paying him somehow. He deserves it.”

“Look darling, it’s very kind of you but he doesn’t need or want any payment. I’ve broached the subject with him and he says board and lodgings are more than enough.”

“But I still feel uncomfortable with the amount of work he is doing.”

“But he enjoys it.”

“Will you make sure that you take them out on visits to Granada, Seville, Ronda and ensure that we pay. Also make sure he has some pocket money. Slip him some Euros so that he can go and buy himself something.”

“You’re very thoughtful Paulo but don’t worry about him. I’ll look after them.”

“Thanks love.”

“Now, I have some requests to make of you. Our terrace in front of the house is too small and uneven for holding lunches, particularly that so many turn up. Can we extend it?”

“I’ll get Antonio onto it and we will need some awnings to keep off the sun. Now what else had you in mind?”

“Well you know that Oscar will be bringing his wife and two daughters over as soon as he and Ronaldo have fixed up their apartment.”

“Yes?”

“Well, wouldn’t it be nice if we had a swimming pool here for Oscar’s kids and our twins. You could have a dip in the mornings too.”

“I suppose the next thing you will be asking for is a tennis court and a stable of horses?”

“How did you guess darling? Did you know that there is already a tennis court down on the lower terrace? It’s overgrown but I can ask Dad if he could do something with it. The monks or nuns must have been quite sporty in the past.”

“I like the idea of a swimming pool but it gets cold in the winter unless we heat it. Where did you say the tennis court was? I must explore the lower terraces.”

“Whilst you’re at it, go and inspect the outbuildings and see if you can convert some into stables. I miss my horses.”

“How do you think a measly student can afford swimming pools, tennis courts and horses?”

“You keep saying not to worry about money so I like spending yours darling.”

“I suppose these things will add value to the estate so I’ll have a word with Steve to see if we can afford it.”

“I’m cooking dinner tonight, is there anything you fancy?”

“Yes! Roast pork, particularly ones in the compound. I’ll even catch one for you.”

“No need Paulo but you must admit it was funny seeing four grown men rolling around in the mud. I couldn’t laugh because of your Gran who was taking it so seriously. When your Gran left we girls just laughed ourselves silly, recounting your heroic exploits. I’m off to Orgiva with Mum to do some shopping. See you later. Bye!”

“Bye love, and get some extra beers. We are running out.”

   

At dinner, Manolo chose a seat next to me which was a sign that he wanted to ask or tell me something. It would be a while before he got to the point and I let him get on with the small talk and telling of his experiences of working on the farms in California. Eventually he gripped my elbow and said, “Paulo, I managed to clear two of the bays as you asked and divided the stuff up into useful, to be repaired or to be got rid of.”

“That’s brilliant Manolo, find anything of interest?”

“Lots of tools, two broken cement mixers to be repaired and some Solar Panels that need some attention. I can repair them for you if you like and I would like to set up a workshop so that things like this can be repaired easily rather than being put aside. I don’t like waste!” 

“Fine, get what you need from Ronaldo and I’ll pay for it.”

“Thank you Paulo, but I will make most of the work benches and equipment from bits and pieces. Can I install the solar panel for you on the roof of your house? They are very efficient in this region with all the sun you get and will save you lots of electricity.”

“Can you do all of things?”

“Paulo, when I was on the farms the last thing I wanted was to break my back in the fields, so I used to find jobs repairing equipment and making useful things for the owners. Since it saved them money, I was spared the agony of field labour.”

“Well, you’re a very useful guy to have around. If you see anything need doing just get on with it. By the way, can you check out the small buildings over there and see if one could convert into a stable. Your daughter likes horses and I would like to give her a surprise one day.”

“She’s in no condition at the moment to go riding Paulo but I will check them out. Do you want anything else doing to the bays?”

“If they are cleaned out, can you give them a lick of paint and ensure that the doors are secure. I will get Antonio to send a builder around to knock me up a block partition, separating these two bays from the others.”

“I can build the wall for you, just order the materials.”

“Manolo, I’m sure you can, but any Spaniard worth his salt can build me a wall. Remember, it’s back breaking work and you were supposed to excuse yourself from that. You’re far more useful on the more technical side.”

“I suppose you are right Paulo. I am just too eager to help you and Carmella. You know how proud we are of you and as parents, we feel good when we can help out a little.”

“Now eat up Manolo, otherwise the gannets down there will get it before we do.”

Chapter 33

A few days later I crossed the courtyard and noticed the absence of a noise, a low burble of a pump and a small petrol engine. Have they moved it? Or has it gone walk-about?

         “Oscar! What’s happened to the water pump? Has somebody pinched it already? Look, even the plastic pipes have gone.”

“No problem Paulo, its Antonio and his men. They are fixing the water from the spring so you don’t need this noisy thing in the yard.”

“Oh, that’s quick. Thanks Oscar, I’ll go up the hill and see how they are doing.”

“Paulo, they have finished up there. Just follow the black pipe from the water deposit and you will find them.” Off I went up the gentle slope following the broad pipe as it lay snugly in the ancient water course, built by some Arab farmers many centuries ago. Although the modern plastic pipe was effective, the water channels allowed for some seepage and efficiently watered the hillside along the way. With plastic you had to make stop cocks every now and again to control the water. I couldn’t see any of these along the way and was concerned. I heard noisy chatter ahead and rounding a bend I came across a gang of young men and girls in climbing gear and Antonio grinning at me from ear to ear.

“Hola Paulo, you’ve missed the exciting bits. Meet the Granada Climbing Club. You probably met some of these kids at the University.”

“Buenos dias!” I said to the animated crowd. They waved back and shouted acknowledgments. 

“Got them to fix the pipes where the landslide took away the channel. They abseiled from the top and did the job for me. We need kids with some courage these days.

“Buena, Buena, muchas gracias!” I shouted and they responded in a flood of Spanish obviously pleased with their exploits. “Antonio, will you invite them for lunch for their efforts.”

“Already have and cleared it with madam boss so no worries. Paulo, let me explain what we have done here. You know the spring we investigated before? Well we built a concrete dam there with a strong lid so that the goats don’t piss in the water. It’s OK, we also constructed a pool further down where the animals can get a drink. This pipe gets the priority supply and goes to fill the water deposit, the second short pipe feeds the open channel on the other side of the valley.”

“Why have you done that Antonio?” 

“Well you own the other side of the valley too, as far as the track. You know, the one that we brought the materials up to the spring. We used mules for the last bit. I’m too old and wise to carry bags of cement these days.”

“I didn’t know I owned that too. Is there anything there?

“It’s largely goat pasture and scrub but there are some good olive trees and sweet chestnuts which will be worth picking. A couple of the guys are walking the water course to clear the debris and chop out any roots that usually block the channels.”

“I would have thought that most of the channels would have collapsed by now.”

“They knew how to build them strong in those days Paulo. We cheat with plastic. Where the sides are damaged my men will repair them with a little clay and stones. No problem. The water will soak into the ground over there and provide good pasture for the goats.”

“Thanks Antonio, I’ll have to investigate that side some time.”

 “Not really worth it Paulo, the access is too difficult and the pathways from this side are all broken. Now follow me and check the joins for leaks. As your Grandfather used to say these big pipes are a bugger to work with. Come on, we need to finish this in time for lunch.”  

Chapter 33

A busy month passed with lots of activity on the farm and the yard was starting to look a mess. Dennis arrived before lunch clutching a handful of papers.

“What’s up brother? You’re looking pensive.”

“Hi Den, what brings you here so early?”

“Got some papers for you to sign.”

“I thought I done all that with Steve and the Notary with selling the farm.”

“This is different Paulo. This is your present and future financial worries solved in one stroke of a pen. I’m setting up a private company with you and Carmella as Directors. I shall be the Operational Director with Janice as Company secretary.”

“You’re joking. I’ve never been a Director and what would I know about business?”

“Paulo, this is deadly serious. You will be our Director of R. and D. Research and Development is your forte isn’t it? And you will draw a salary, both of you.”

“How can that work? I have no product to make or sell yet.”

“Now listen me out little brother. Janice and I have thrown in our hotel plus a hundred grand in Euros and I want you to throw in this place plus similar moneys; cash spare from the sale of Grandpa’s place. We need the cash for working capital.

“But I don’t even own this place yet.”

“This is where it gets clever bro. The Company takes over your assets and will pay your rental every six months out of profits until we own it outright.”

“But where will you get the money? We don’t have a cash cow yet?”

“Yes we do. Antonio owns a builders merchant run by a relative. Unfortunately the relative doesn’t know his brick from his cement and its floundering. The suppliers are conning the man and the clients are robbing him blind and not paying the bills. I’ve bought it for the land and stock since there is no business there and I’m going to turn it around. It’s a gold mine since Antonio will insist that his subbies buy all their supplies there.”

“But what do you know about building materials?”

“Bugger all, but I don’t need to Paulo. I get the experts in to do it for me. This relative used to spend his time on the fork lift rather than running the business end so he’s going to be my chief driver and that’s all he’s good for. His son, who’s got some grey matter, will look after the office and Antonio let me have one of his competent site managers to be the General Manager. So it’s sorted and it will be our cash cow for starters.  We ensure we collect our debts and pay our bills on time as Grandpa instilled in me and Antonio. This is going to be our cash cow until our other chickens come to roost.”

“But surely getting long credit will be necessary in the short term.”

“It’s been proved that if you pay your bills on time as agreed, and then you get better terms in the first place. We will buck the Spanish trend and pay our suppliers on minimum credit terms and as our reputation is established we will get preferential service and prices. Look at Antonio. He pays his subbies peanuts but since they know they will get regular and timely payments they keep clambering for more work from him.”

“I suppose Steve will be Chairman then?”

“Nope, your Dad is.”

“But he won’t be here much.”

“So? He’s put up fifty grand and Steve has joined us as a Financial Director and will advise us on new business opportunities. We will all be shareholders Paulo.”

“But how much of a share will we own?”

“That depends on how much your assets are valued plus the money you’ve put up. You and Carmella have thrown in the monastery plus cash and the value of the property increases as you or the Company invests in it. So you build a swimming pool and the value goes up by say fifty grand even though it’s only cost you fifteen grand to install but you get the fifty in shares. If you don’t draw all of your salary then that sum increases your shareholding. Bonuses will be shared out according to your holding over the past six months.”

“So, the way I understand it is that I give you or the Company my current property and it will pay off the rent and if I do any improvements around here the full selling value is counted, to increase my shareholding, and when I start making money then that goes towards the Company profits.”

“That’s right, you’ve got it and a certain amount of the profits agreed by the Board, pays us a handsome bonus. Now just sign these papers and we’ll legalise the deal and you won’t need to think anymore where the money is going to come from.”

“By the way, how did you hear about the swimming pool?”

“I knowz everyzing brother!”

“Since I’m not going to provide any cash flow to this project for some time, can I suggest some cost saving measures?”

“Fire away, since you’re in charge of the R and D.”

“Instead of renting, why don’t you and Janice move into the large empty apartment here?”

“Good thinking batman! There you go; you have increased your shareholding by the astronomic rent that you are going to supposedly charge me and the Company will only pay a fraction. Good idea, I’ll broach it with Janice. I think she would like to live closer to you and Carmella.”

“Another thing dear brother, why is it that everybody is trying to run my life?

“Don’t take it like that. We are a family and we look after each other, always have done. Grandpa ran your Dad’s and my life. Now your Dad and I are helping you out and so on. You and Carmella need a helping hand whilst you are an impoverished student and she a mother to be. After you graduate, with your PhD then you can do the running for other people.”

“Well I appreciate the sentiments but I’m not sure I’m comfortable about it.”

“You’ll get over it brother. By the way Carmella tells me you have problems with your research.”

“It’s not the research but the lab time. I’m not getting enough allocation at the University and its holding me back.”

“From what you’ve told me the lab work is sheer drudgery. Why don’t you sub it out?”

“It’s just the cost.”

“Look, Grandpa’s motto was don’t do anything yourself if somebody can do it for you. It won’t affect the outcome of your degree; will it, if somebody else does the basics for you?”

“No, but the costs tend to be prohibitive.”

“The cost of your time is also prohibitive if you’re doing basic work when you should be using your grey matter to the full. Get it subbed out brother and finish your thesis earlier. With our set up, money is the least of your worries.”

“I’ll work on it. Hey, did you know, there is a tennis court on site?”

“That seals it! We are moving in tomorrow and the next day I’m going to give you a thrashing.”

“Hey, not so quick, the court needs lots of work doing to it.”

“Where is it, I’ll go and have a look. I’ll get Antonio to make it a priority. I’ll be back for lunch. Will the usual suspects be there?”

“I expect so. I’m amazed that people bother to drive all this way for lunch.”

“Hey, don’t be brother. You and Carmella have taken on where Grandpa left off. His lunch parties were famous and people came from afar. Just carry on the good ole tradition. It’s great. I’m off on an inspection tour of the court. We’ll sign the papers later. See yah!”   

   

   

I strolled up to the house thinking how fortunate we were with family and friends when Carmella came hurrying towards me. 

“Hey Carmella, guess what? You are married to a Director, whose going to bring you poots of money.”

“I know and I’m appointed Director of H.R. human resources so watch it, I could get you fired.”

“How is it you knew before me?”

“Well Dennis came to me first just in case you got difficult over it. Pride and stuff like that, handing over all this.”

“I suppose you were going to work me over?”

“I don’t need to now. Your brother is quite a business man! I like him and Janice.”

“That’s good because I made an executive decision in my new role and invited them to live in the empty apartment whilst they are building their place. I hope you approve darling?”

“That’s wonderful. It means I will have some company when Mum and Dad go back to Mexico.”

“I wish they could stay here for ever. Your Dad is so useful. He seems to know how to do and fix anything.”

“Are you sure? Are you sure you can put up with the outlaws?”

“Hey it’s not as if they are under our feet all the time. I generally only see them at meal times. By the way, we are following in Grandpa’s tradition of providing lunch for the ten thousand. I hope you don’t mind darling.”

“Hey, it’s fun, with all those people gathering. I enjoy the company. It’s only the gun toting police that I worry about. Come on, I was coming to get you to give me a hand setting up more tables.”

Chapter 34

At lunch I was sandwiched between Dennis and Manolo.

“Now Mr. R and D, what progress have you made on the magic cactus front?”

“Quite a bit! I thought you would have noticed. The salad you are eating contains slices of you know what and just watch it disappear. I have cultivated hundreds of seedlings and they are now about six centimetres tall and still free of spines. The strongest specimens I’m transplanting with the help of Oscar to those huge plant pots that Antonio had delivered a few days ago.”

“I wondered why you wanted those plastic plant pots. Be careful bro, Antonio thinks you’re not quite right in the upstairs department. Anyway, how many pots have you filled?”

“Only fifty so far but I’ve ordered a hundred more plus some chicken wire.”

“What the hell do you want chicken wire for? Haven’t you got enough chickens?”

“Two reasons, one to fix a fence around the top of each pot so the hens don’t get poisoned and secondly, I’m going to isolate half a dozen of the laying hens and feed them some of the cactus roots and the rejects that don’t go into your salad.”

“Great, is Oscar saving the eggs? We should save enough for a large Spanish omelette and check out the effect. You’ve excelled yourself brother. You’ll have to show me around later. How is it you have so much seed?”

“Well, I picked a whole ripe flower and each produces millions of seeds. They have to ensure continuity, particularly, that most of them get eaten young, unless they find some inaccessible place and manage to develop their protective spines.”

“You must have seed enough for a life time.”

“Probably but I have no idea how long they last so I will grow some of the best plants to full maturity until they flower.”

“Good thinking. I doesn’t want to have to send you back to the wilds of Mexico to collect some more. I don’t want to risk losing you. That reminds me, I want to see these suits of armour that you’ve had delivered.”

“I tried mine on for Carmella to approve and, after she got up off the floor from laughing so much, she said that all I needed was a mule and a donkey and people would see the return of Don Quixote and his pal Oscar masquerading as Sancho.”

“But did she approve of the safety aspect?”

“Only after she got a needle and started sticking it into the suit to see if she could penetrate it.”

“Well, it looks as if you survived the ordeal then. Is Oscar going to be your assistant then on this project?”

“I can trust him not to be gung ho about it. I have to source some vehicle, like a forklift truck with attachments to handle the cacti at arm’s length. Then we are going to do some dummy runs with planted tree trunks to check that the system works safely.”

“Wise move brother, but where are you going to store and ferment the stems?”

“Manolo has cleared out a couple of bays. I’ll get Antonio over there to build a segregating wall and Ronaldo to knock me up some wooden crates to support the stem whilst they are fermenting. They need to be strong and safe, at least until the stems shed their spines.”

“You seemed to have thought it all through well. When do you expect the first production of the magic liquor?”

“Hard to say but I shall cut some young stems in about five weeks’ time and let others mature a bit more. Keep testing the process and grow with it.”

“Antonio tells me you’ve been down to his winery picking his brain.”

“Yeah, but he keeps things close to his chest. He won’t let me into his secret formula for clearing his wines.”

“I’ll have a word with him and at the same time get his guys to fix up the tennis court.”

“I see you’ve broached the subject of us moving in onto your patch with Carmella. Janice was ecstatic by the idea. You can see, those two are discussing the curtains and the furnishings already.”

“Now something is bothering me about your research.”

“It’s not the sub-contracting is it? I’ve made my mind up to do it.” 

“No, that’s not it but I’m glad you have seen reason. No, it’s really in the domain of your research. Will this magic formula come out in your thesis and shouldn’t we get a preliminary patent out on it?”

“Don’t worry Dennis. I can see your cogs turning on this. My research is strictly on the habit and poison of this species. I’m trying to isolate all the differing compounds that make up this complex substance so that an antidote can be developed or at least stop the thing being fatal. The food value and the possible addictive elements I am leaving out for another day. Your secret is safe, now let me talk to Manolo, he is dying to tell me something. Don’t choke on your cactus salad Dennis!”

Chapter 35

“Carmella, what’s your Dad up to on the roof of the monastery building.”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you tell the fool to go up there! It’s more dangerous than you messing about with the cacti. Go and see what he’s up to. I don’t want him falling off. Do you think he’s looking for leaks in the clayey loess stuff they put on around here?”

“It’s a concrete roof under that stuff. It’s only for show. Maybe he’s putting weed killer down to stop vegetation taking hold. I’ll go and see.”

“Manolo, what are you up to here. Carmella’s worried about you.”

“Hola Paulo. She’s always worried. I’m just checking on the solar panels here. They need some maintenance and do you know that they are not even turned on. We’ve been wasting electric on water heating when this lot is up here going to waste.”

“Why was it switched off in the first place?”

“Probably when the last owners left and you can’t see them from ground level. I’ve cleaned them up, turned them on and checking their operating efficiently. I think we will get some bits to repair them if need be.”

“Aren’t there a lot of them? Six is rather a lot for our needs isn’t it?”

“Probably, but I’ll only switch on three that are in working order and bring the others down for repair. You will need some for your swimming pool and I’ve yet to fix one for your house.”

“How are you going to get them down? Be careful. Can I give you a hand?”

“There’s a big hatch in the roof over the terrace there. I’ll get them down that way. I’ll ask if I have a problem. This will save you lots of Pesetas.”

“I’ll give you a hand now whilst I’m up here. Just tell me what you want me to do. I’m a good goffer. That’s what my Grandpa used to say.”

“Paulo, Carmella says that you would like us to stay. Pass me that wrench please.”

“Of course Manolo, only if you want to.”

“I would like to, especially to see my grandchild grow up. I will have to go back to Mexico to settle my affairs there first. You are very kind. Carmella says that I will now be paid Paulo. I don’t need that.”

“Manolo, this is out of my hands now. The property doesn’t belong to me or Carmella now. It belongs to our Company and the Company pays the workers’ wages. I don’t pay you, the Company does. Oscar is paid by them so should you be. It’s only fair and you should accept it.”

“Dennis tells me I am now a Technical Manager, with a salary. Is that right?”

“If Dennis says so then it must be. Congratulations! I’ll take these tubes down and come back for more.”

“Is he alright up there Paulo?”

“Perfectly love. He’s quite safe and gets up through a large hatch.”

“What’s he doing?

“Repairing the solar panels that I didn’t know we had. He’s going to install some for us and for heating the swimming pool.” 

“He loves tinkering about. Did he say anything? You know?”

“Yes he mentioned that he would like to stay if it was OK by me and was puzzled by the new job he’s got with a salary.”

“Give me a hug love. That’s wonderful. I’m really pleased. Dennis was a bit rough with him. Told him that he was to be paid whether he liked it or not. He said he couldn’t discriminate between the workers in the Company. They all got paid a fair wage according to their value and went off leaving Dad a bit perplexed. I told him to speak to you.”

“He did and got the same short shrift from me. He either got paid or upset the other workers. I’m really pleased with the outcome. I was embarrassed by all the work he’s done for me. I hope he’s not too upset. I told him harshly that the property doesn’t belong to me or you anymore. When you have a moment please explain to him that that’s not quite the case and it belongs to all of us and we will all share in the long term. I’ll talk to Dennis and if he does come and live here permanently, we’ll make him a Technical Director or something with a stake in the company. I’ll fund that if necessary but you explain to him that nothing has really changed and it’s all technical and businesslike. I’m sure he’ll understand coming from you.”

 “Darling, that’s wonderful! I knew there was a second reason I married you. Now go and see that the old man doesn’t jump off the roof and damage the terrace below.”    

  

Chapter 36

 A few weeks later I was inspecting the infant cacti in my nursery garden with Oscar, selecting the ones to be potted out in the big plastic bins and the ones for the salad bowl or to be fed to my special brood of chickens when Manolo came rushing towards us.

“Paulo, Paulo, come quick. You must come and see, come and see. Paulo, come quick,” as he dashed off down back to the under-build. I thought something disastrous must have happened as we both downed tools and rushed after him. We saw him standing at the end bay with the doors up and panting breathlessly with excitement.

“Paulo, look what I have found! I broke the lock to get in. I hope you don’t mind. I will repair it. Look, look inside.” Oscar and I both looked into the gloom and as our eyes got accustomed from the bright sunshine, we saw it was a vehicle garage and parked inside was an old Landrover Defender, partly covered with a tarpaulin and next to it stood a tractor covered in cobwebs and grime of ages. Both vehicles hadn’t seen the light of days for years, probably before the nuns, when the monks had parked them for the last time before they departed for friendlier climes.

“Look Paulo, the tractor has a digger shovel on the front and at the back it’s got a small shovel for digging trenches a back hoe. There are other attachments like ploughs and spray containers at the back there. Look, this looks like a machine for crushing olives and over here is a meal grinder. There must lots of other machinery under those covers over there.”

“What a gold mine you have found here. I wonder if we can get anything to work again or is it all scrap?”

“No, no Paulo! I can get it all working again. May need to change the tyres and rubber hoses which have all probably perished but the rest looks good. Needs a good clean up first.”

“What a stroke of luck Manolo. Can we give you a hand with this? If these things are any good then it will save us a bomb on a tractor and extra runabout. Tell us what you want us to do to help you?”

“Well, if we could just move some of the lighter pieces outside, then we can get to the tractor and Landrover and see if there is anything else of use in there. Oscar can you get a power hose fixed up and swill down the things we bring out. A bit of water won’t hurt them after all this time in here.” What Manolo and I could physically lift or push was moved outside and Oscar discovered what was beneath the grime. Manolo kept ooghing and aghing as interesting bits caught his attention. We managed to bodily move all the bits of machinery out, some with a bit of a struggle and only the tractor and Landrover were left inside. Manolo and I were covered in dust and muck.

“Oscar, hose down the walls in here first then these two things.”

“Are you going to remove the tarp first?”

“No, we’ll just create more dust. Hose it down and if it survives then we’ll remove it.” All the rubber tyres, plastic seats and canvas sided on the defender were totally shot and useless, as Oscar cut the stuff to ribbons with his power hose. Manolo just urged him on saying that he couldn’t do any harm. Once tractor was cleared of grime, Manolo checked the oil and hydraulic fluid containers and nodded in satisfaction. “There’s still stuff in there so there can’t be much damage inside. I’ve worked with tractors in a worse state than this.”

“Make a list of what you need and we’ll go into Orgiva and see if we can resource the bits.”

“I’ll see what I can do today but Mr. Dennis wants me all day tomorrow. He didn’t tell me what for but he is collecting me at ten tomorrow.”

“OK Manolo, tell me when you are ready to go and I’ll take you.”   

     

Chapter 36

“Bloody hell! What’s this goat doing here inside?”

“Hello darling, you’re late. Had a busy day, went to bed early.”

“Sorry Carmella, got an extra session at the lab. Look, its crapped on the floor!”

“Don’t frighten it. It’s only a baby kid.”

“What’s it doing in here and where has it come from?”

“I got it from the goat herd. It’s lame and he gave it to me to fatten up.”

“Where did you meet him them? Oh look, it’s pee’d all over the floor!”

“You’re frightened it. It will all clean up. I went over the valley to our new land. Needed a walk to chase away some cobwebs and think in peace.”

“You shouldn’t be going over there in your state Carmella. Antonio told me the paths had all disappeared and were overgrown.”

“There’s a perfectly good goat track down to the river. It’s lovely down there. Someone must have constructed fish ponds there. Hey you smell worse than the goat, go and have a shower.”

“Sorry, the chemicals from the lab are a bit overpowering. What are you going to do with this beast? Not going to be another pet like the stray dogs and cats you’ve brought in here?”

“No, I’ll fatten it up and we’ll have roast kid on the spit one day. The goatherd couldn’t keep it because it’s damaged its leg and can’t keep up with the herd, so I took it.”

“Oh yeh! You’re going to fatten it up and you’re going to kill it? Tell me another!”

“The butcher will.”

“Which butcher?”

“The one who comes in the van and delivers the meat.”

“But don’t we just go and buy the stuff in Orgiva?”

“Paulo, the number of people we have to feed these days I can’t be shopping every day. The butcher, fishmonger, baker and the greengrocer call regularly in their vans.”

“I suppose we pay for this?”

“No Paulo, it all goes on our account and Dennis or Antonio pays for it.”

“Why Dennis?”

“Well most of the people turning up for lunch are people Dennis and Antonio are trying to cultivate to promote business so it’s all on expenses.”

“But aren’t you fed up cooking for all these people?”

“Not really. We have to eat and I’ve got lots of help. By the way, I’ve picked up a few more waifs and strays.”

“What no more dogs?”

“No, two people who are going to live with us. A Latvian girl, who I talked to in Orgiva. She needed help and one of Antonio’s relatives, Eduardo, who needs to get away from it all.”

“Not Edo, he’s an idiot! Can’t have him here. Don’t know what he’ll get up to. I don’t want him with the cacti on site!”

“It’s alright darling, he’s grown up now and quite harmless but the other lads are making it a misery for him in Orgiva. Antonio asked if we would take him on. Dad’s going to look after him.”

“Where is he going to sleep?”

“Don’t worry darling, not with us here. Mum has sorted out a couple of cells for them. They are fine Paulo. Trust me.”

“If you say so.”

“Look Paulo, the girl is quite a sight. All dreadlocks and funny clothes so don’t be too shocked when you meet her. It’s her defence mechanism, to put the lecherous men off. She’s a willing worker and she’ll be a good help to me, Give her a chance please.”

“OK, I trust you but I’m not sure about Edo. He was a liability when I last knew him.”

“By the way, Dad wants to convert one of the houses next to us and make it habitable. They would prefer that to the flat. They want to pay for the conversion.”

“Brilliant, just the excuse I wanted. That’s worked out better than if I had planned it.”

“What are you on about darling? You don’t mind do you?”

“Certainly not, it’s just that Dennis and I were scratching our heads how we could make him a shareholder in the Company without upsetting his pride and sensibilities and he’s come up with the solution himself.”

“How’s that darling? I don’t understand.”

“Well if he pays something towards the conversion, we can then overvalue it and he gets the share value in the Company, which we wanted plus a share in the profits. That’s brilliant. Wait till I tell Dennis he has solved the problem for us.”

“Come and give me a kiss and hug darling. Uugh, you smell worse than the goat. Get out of those clothes and shower. Chuck those clothes in the laundry bin and make sure you empty your pockets of those tissues you use in the lab. They ruin the washing and all get stuck to all my clothes. Not yours!”

“It’s your magnetic personality dear.”

“By the way, Antonio and his designer architect are coming tomorrow to check the layout of the extended terrace and swimming pool.”

“Can you handle them dear? I’ve got to get some more samples to get back to the lab tomorrow.”

“Will do but Antonio has sent a lorry of plastic greenhouses. What do we want with those?”

“Great. Those pesky birds are attacking my nursery samples and I need to get them under cove before they destroy my entire valuable crop. It didn’t take them long to find out that those things are tasty. If there’s any left over, I’ll construct them in the garden to extend the season for veg.”

“Won’t that upset you Gran?”

“Probably, but needs must. I would like us to be self-sufficient.”

“That reminds me, there are a few orange trees on the other side that could do with picking. Now get in that shower and we can talk more in bed.”  

 After a good long scrub in the shower, with a generous application of shower gel to rid or at least hide the smell of the solvents I bounded over to the bedroom to be confronted with the continuation to the stream of news from that day.

  “That’s better dear; at least I’m willing to cuddle up to you now. Where was I? Oh yes, I told you about Antonio bringing the plastic but he also had a clear-out at home and brought some scooters and a quad bike.”

“Why are we getting his cast offs then?”

“Dad said he would repair them and we could use them around the farm or just popping into Orgiva. His kids are now into cars, even his youngest, you know the one. She kept popping in with messages. I reckon she had a crush on you; well, she’s just gone up the ‘cool’ rankings with her compardres by being the first in class with four wheels. And Antonio asked if we wanted some Cypress trees which he was digging up. I said we would like them to screen your fence.”

“Good idea. It might even please Gran though I doubt it. I thought of planting some along the driveway. They always look majestic and seem to be beckoning you along as they sway in the wind.”

“I don’t know how many he will get, but knowing Antonio it will be a forest load.”

“That reminds me, who is planting out the trees? The tubs have disappeared from the yard.”

“By magic dear. Oscar does them and he’s been cutting out the dead ones.”

“How the hell does he dig the holes and moves the tubs, more magic?”

“No, he borrows the tractor with the digger thingamgig on the back from our neighbour. You know the one from the Cortijo just up above us. Oscar says he will use ours once Dad has mended it.”

“That reminds me, your Dad went off with Dennis today. How did that go?”

“I’ll let Dad tell you or better still get Dennis to tell you, he’s a bit more colourful.” 

“I’m bushed and so must you be darling.”

“And another thing, Lorenza is finally bringing her two kids over to live here. They’ve been staying with their Aunt in Granada.”

“It will be nice for Oscar to have all of his family here at last.”

“Oh, by the way, your Dad rang from England this afternoon.”

“What did he want?”

“Don’t be like that. He’s lovely. I asked him for his goulash recipe.”

“No chance, that’s his secret and even Gran couldn’t wheedle it out of him.”

“Well he’s giving it to me when he comes over next week, so there!”

“What’s he coming over for? Did he say?”

“He said he would like to convert some of the cells into an apartment just like my Mum and Dad have.”

“There you go, he did need something. It’s a thing with him. Never waste a phone call unless there is a need. That’s why I asked. Why doesn’t he want to stay with the Danes as usual? They all get on like a house on fire.”

“They like it here, it seems and they are coming next week, hiring a car so we don’t have to pick them up and he’s arranged a site meeting with Ronaldo.”

“I suppose they will want to stay in our spare room?”

“No, Mum’s preparing one of the cells for them. They said they only need a couple of beds since they will eat with us. It’s all arranged darling. Now can we get some sleep!”

 

Chapter 37

The following morning, I was up early and collared Oscar after he had fed the hens.

“How many eggs have we accumulated from the special bunch Oscar?”

“Probably a couple of dozen. Maybe more laid later today. Dennis told me that there was enough for a Spanish omelette, a tortilla, that my wife has to make today for lunch.”

“So today’s the day, is it? That’s when we can check if they taste any different from the others.”

“I haven’t told anyone that we are feeding them on cactus roots, just as you told me. Dennis also warned me and asked my wife if she would make two lots so we could have a tasting.”

“Good, just don’t tell anyone about our secret. Just say the mad Flamenco boy is experimenting with feed. They’ll all accept that. Now we have an important task to do this morning. I need some more samples so don your gear before it gets too hot.”

“OK, boss but you know those two rottweilers that are loose in the compound. They don’t like the armour and keep attacking us.”

“I know, but at least the armour is dog proof as we know but they are a bloody nuisance, aren’t they? I thought they would have got used to you by now, especially since you feed the buggers.”

“It’s the white armour they don’t like, so I got some cattle prods from Joseph, you know, the guy that I borrow the tractor from. He said a few sparks from these and they will keep their distance. I’ll bring them along.”

We donned our gear and no longer got the shouts and laughter of the past. We managed to get through the compound gates in my gear without the dogs noticing but as soon as we moved forward they bounded over, barking and baring their teeth. One stopped a short distance away whilst the second bounded towards me at full pelt. I held out the cattle prod and squeezed the trigger hoping for the best, expecting to be bowled over by the huge animal. I was, but instead of sinking its teeth into my well protected arm, it gave out an enormous yelp and bounded off a distance, barking loudly at us. Its companion, dumfounded by his mate’s reaction, was a bit more cautious but seeing me on the ground helpless made a dive for me. Again it got the full force of the cattle prod on its nose and seemed to do an athletic backward somersault and ran off yelping. We stood our ground and waited for the next onslaught which came with both of them circling us and attacking from opposite sides, at once. I liked their strategy but both retired yelping after a healthy dose of current. Oscar suggested we quietly move away from them, to at least give them some smidgen of success, that they had sent us packing. They left us alone, keeping their distance and occasionally barking to show who was boss around here in their compound. After a while they lost interest and left us alone with only an occasional bark to signify their presence.

I had devised a simple method of taking samples which was an idea I got from a toy I was presented as a kid. It was a spud gun which you prodded the end into a spud and then fired the plug at your mates. I was the bane of their lives for a while until it broke. Using the same principle I used a piece of copper piping, a metre long and stuck it in the cactus and prised off a plug containing one or two spines. These were then deposited in a jar by a sharp smack on the other end, the pressure pushing out the plug. The process could be done safely, at arm’s length. The jar was set in a small cool box surrounded by packs of dry ice. Having got sufficient samples I flicked closed the lid of the jar, then the cool box lid and my prize was safely contained. Grandpa would have approved.

I next told and showed Oscar the other refinements I had planned to help with the harvesting. Firstly I marked out an inner compound with a secondary gate so that the chickens and dogs couldn’t get out when we drove through with our machine. Secondly I described a cage on a trolley that would hold the cactus stems in a cradle. This would mean we wouldn’t have to get near them once they had been cut and prepared. I had though up an idea that we would have a machine like a fork lift truck with attachments that would pick the stem up, hopefully leaving the bin and soil behind. We would then take the stem to a washing area to swill off the soil. The next step would be to rotate the stem and cut off the root with some sort of a chain saw. After that the stem would be fully rotated and positioned upside down in the cradle. Once the cradle was full, of say about six stems, we would slam the cage door and wheel the trolley to our fermenting bay.

Oscar listened to all of this, adding his own helpful suggestions. He suggested that Ronaldo could supply and manufacture the trolleys and cages. When it came to the machine or forklift as I had envisaged, he suggested that we adapt the tractor that Manolo was repairing. We could get or have manufactured hydraulic system of attachments to the digger arm. He reckoned that Manolo could design something, including a cutter which would be better than my Heath Robinson chainsaw system that I had suggested. He said he would talk to Manolo and Ronaldo at lunch and would probably have some working drawings prepared by the end of the day. I had to skip lunch since I had to get my precious samples to my lab in Granada and extract the venom before it deteriorated. I was concerned that some of the compounds lost their potency quicker than others so the extraction and initial analysis had to be done as quickly as possible.

Just as I was about to jump into the car, Oscar’s wife Lorenza called and said she would like to introduce our newcomer. I certainly got a shock by the sight of Lena who was dressed in muddy coloured ex-army fatigues that looked five sizes too big for her and poking out, in disarray, from under a brown woolly hat was a mass of dreadlocks, sticking out in all directions. Her face was the most shocking, in that it had been whitened and pierced painfully all over with grey silver rings that made her face look quite disgusting. It was a good job that Carmella had pre-warned me but I don’t think I could cover my shock. Lena gave me a brief nod and rushed off to the kitchens with her basket of vegetables from the garden. She was certainly off putting but my greatest impression was that she was painfully thin. I hoped it was only through neglect rather than a deeper rooted problem. I hoped she wouldn’t frighten off our lunchtime guests.

As I opened the car door I was accosted by Edo. I hadn’t seen him for years and he’d grown a lot, upwards and outwards. I got a sloppy kiss on both cheeks and he slobbered on in Spanish which I couldn’t understand. I let him carry on hugging and crying for a while until I felt he had almost completed his greetings, pushed him off, shook his hand like man and bade him farewell, pointing at my watch that I was late. Jumping into the car, I watched him through the rear view mirror. A sad character, who as a young lad had been teased mercilessly by all and now, grown up, was being similarly treated by the grown-ups. I felt sorry for him and understood why Antonio had asked to have him isolated up here in the monastery. At least he would be looked after and treated well. He certainly wasn’t all there in the head and I suddenly felt sorry for him. We seem to be collecting misfits and maybe I was one of them! 

Chapter 38

Dennis told me triumphantly about the Spanish omelette contest. Oscar’s wife, Lorenza had made two special omelettes under strict supervision of Dennis and all the people present had to ‘blind’ taste the product and score. Dennis, in his own imitable way, had divided the ordinary egg omelette into three and only served a quarter of our special version, all divided into bite size pieces. These were handed out and the company voted on their preference. Our special concoction won hands down and Dennis then produced the remainder to be devoured with gusto. That left us with an imponderable problem. If the cactus flavoured compound passed onto the eggs was only addictive then why should the results be so conclusive instantly? Our thoughts up to now were that this magical substance was only addictive but maybe there was a taste enhancement element in there too. Anyway, the outcome was that Dennis decided we would now kill the hens and see if the meat was similarly affected. A similar blind tasting was being hatched by Dennis. I could see immediately his thoughts and already envisaged us raising a huge flock of egg layers and table chickens taking over my compound and appearing on the menu at Dennis’s restaurant. On this occasion, I can answer the conundrum that the egg came first!

Next day, after a leisurely breakfast I was immediately accosted by Dennis. “Did Manolo tell you what we’ve been up to brother?”

“No, but Carmella told me you had something to tell.”

“Oh, I do. I took Manolo to Orgiva and bought him a business suit, shirt, tie, the works, plus a brief case. He looked quite dapper and just as I wanted him to. We held a meeting in our offices at the yard and invited six manufactures to do a sales pitch on their solar panels.”

“Are you branching out again?”

“Yep, installation of solar power is what Antonio wants to get into. Lots of money in it and gives him a second chance to revisit his former clients to get repeat work. Now let me continue. Manolo, bless his cotton socks, just sat there, taking notes as these Sales guys gave their presentations. He was my Solar Consultant. Once they had all finished, he started his questioning. Basically, he wanted them to tell him why their system was better than a hundred metres of black pipe, a black dustbin and a simple electric pump. Only the local guy from Jaen gave a satisfactory answer.”

“Which was?”

“Well, he pointed out that their systems were low maintenance, looked better and the important thing for us was, that there was a high mark up for us. Nobody was going to get rich on the home made system, even though they could be cost effective.  The other guys just waffled on.”

“So what was the outcome?”

“Well, Manolo suggested we stock all of them to give our clients some choice. He also got the local guy from Jaen to modify his product by splitting his hot water header tank into two compartments. One of them would have an immersion heater for the chillier days of winter.”

“But don’t all of the systems have immersion heaters?”

“Yes brother, but they tend to heat the whole large header tank which is inefficient. This way we only heat what we want. He also added a few more thermostats and a temperature gauge positioned in the house so that the customer can see if they have enough hot water for a bath or need to turn on the immersion. We also upped the retail price for this one.”

“So Manolo’s help was valuable?”

“Not half. It showed the Sales guys we knew as much as they did and we got a better ex-factory deal. Antonio is delighted and I’m most impressed with your Father-in-law.”

“Where are you going to store all this equipment to show, Dennis?”

“We have a problem and we need to build a showroom for this stuff and also the swimming pool equipment.”

“We seem to be investing a lot, with little income as yet bro.”

“True, but this builder’s supply business is a gold mine and we have a brilliant manager in Jurek. Have you met him yet? He’s been to lunch, but you’ve probably been too busy with your lab work. He’s sorted out the suppliers and their delivery drivers, got one who was short delivering, bodily threw him out of the yard and drove his lorry into a ditch for good measure. The word will be out and no other driver will try that one, also sorted out the Retail from the Trade by installing a trade counter. We now have a separate Retail counter where everything is marked up to a sensible price. The Trade have to have an account which nicely ties them in and they are no longer competing with Joe public. Need more space though.”

“Did you know Dad and Mum are coming over?”

“Yeah, Carmella told me. We’ll hold a Directors meeting while they are here. Good opportunity to clear the air and answer a few questions. I hear you’ve found a way to get Manolo to be a shareholder. Good for you brother!”

Chapter 39

    

A few days later I returned from the labs and met Maria, Manolo’s wife looking very worried. “Pablo, some bad news for you, your wife has been taken to hospital. She collapsed after lunch and an ambulance took her to hospital. Fortunately Olga, the Swiss doctor was here. The ones who bought your farm you know. She went in the ambulance with her.”

“Why wasn’t I told straight away? Why didn’t someone phone me?”

“Paulo, Paulo, we wanted to but Olga said we shouldn’t worry you until the doctors had done some tests and found out what the trouble is.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know Paulo. Olga phoned to say they were deciding to take her to Motril or Granada for the tests. Olga is with her and making the decision so you shouldn’t worry. She will be in touch. Olga believes that Carmella has overdone it and needs rest. Your Dad phoned twice. He is coming tomorrow and they are also bringing your Grandmother. She insisted on coming to help.”

“Why is everybody doing things without telling me and consulting me Maria?”

“Don’t worry Paulo. Things are under control and the best is being done. Please don’t worry. I’ve got Carmella’s phone with me and when Olga phones I’ll tell her you are back and contact you direct. I’m sure everything is OK Paulo. Please don’t worry.”

“Thanks Maria, I’ll make sure I have my phone at the ready. I’ll go and take a walk and think things through.” I didn’t want to talk to anybody. I just wanted to calm down and collect my thoughts. I obviously been so preoccupied with my own plans, I had totally forgotten about Carmella and her own problems with the pregnancy and forthcoming twins. I was kicking myself for my lack of consideration. I wished at that moment I had that high terrace of the former house where Grandpa could hide away and ponder on matters at hand. Without much thought, my wandering took me to the valley and I found a well-trodden goat track following the contours down into the gorge. 

I wandered along with my mind muddled with lots of thoughts and possible situations. At least I had the foresight and sense to check the signal strength on my phone. As I got deeper into the valley, some of my thoughts started to come together and fall into some semblance of order. The first thing I needed to do was set my priorities and Carmella was to be at the very top of the list. I had considered her to be so strong and self-sufficient and hadn’t realised the fragility of her situation with her pregnancy. 

I sat on a flat stone and looked down at the river. There was a strong flow and I could detect the various pools that had been constructed with small weirs or dams which had long since been punctured by the river. Suddenly my phone pinged and I jumped up to view the message. It was from Olga saying that Carmella was well and sitting up but Olga wanted to have some further tests carried out and was having a fight with the hospital bureaucracy. They said there was no need for the tests and Olga was insisting on tests. She would keep me informed and I was not to worry, if that was possible.

Suddenly my senses were attacked by another feeling which I instantly recognised, the powerful pong of goats. Looking down, I saw a goatherd that Carmella had probably met, coming towards me, and leading a line of his animals. He stopped and following the usual greetings and pleasantries he told me that my wife had ordered some kids ready for the oven and he would deliver them tomorrow. With that, he turned and made his way back along the track, sweeping the animals away, in front of him until he disappeared around a bend. How he knew I was Carmella’s husband was beyond me, but I realised that many things were imponderable in this life.

Carmella was returned to me that evening by ambulance with Olga taking charge. The outcome of the tests and X-rays, I was told, were all fine but she needed to rest. Olga was kind enough to explain to an ignoramus that Carmella’s body was fighting a delicate battle with the needs for nutrition for the twins and if the twins’ placenta got the upper hand then Carmella’s health might momentarily suffer. I didn’t realise what delicate balance it was and if the babies got the upper hand, affecting the mother, then the mother’s own defences came into action and would at the worst, resort to aborting the babies, to save the mother’s life. Carmella would have to be looked after with lots of care, to ensure that her health and systems could cope with the demands of the twins inside her. I was a little annoyed with her when she insisted on petting the little kid goat rather than telling me all about it. I eventually rushed off, got a chair and insisted that she sat down and told me all.

“Not a lot to tell really Paulo. Don’t look so worried dear. It was nothing. I fainted at lunch, that was all and Olga insisted on getting me to hospital just to get some tests done to check my hormone levels and things.”

“But I was told they rushed you off to hospital in an ambulance.”

“Yes, only because the Guardia Civil insisted and Olga thought it might get better attention at hospital. Do you know, I had a police escort?”

“Did you see a doctor?”

“No need Paulo. Olga was there but she insisted that they did the full array of tests and scans. They all came out OK, but Olga says I should rest more.”

“Too true, so you will have to give up your lunch making duties and let me and your mother look after you.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic Paulo. I’m fine.”

“Look, you’re grounded from now on. No more work just lots of rest and TLC. My Mum and Gran are coming over and they will take over from you.”

“It seems I’m outnumbered here darling. I must admit I tire easily these days. Maybe being pampered might not be such a bad thing. Now listen, I don’t want you stopping going on with your stuff. It’s too important and I’ll have lots of people looking after me. Now cheer up, I don’t want you being in the dumps all the time.”

Dad, Mum and Gran arrived the next day in style and Gran, in her imitable way, took over running the whole household operation as if she had been doing it for years. I suddenly realised she had been feeding the masses at lunch when Grandpa was alive and was quite adept at getting others to help. I was surprised to see that she didn’t even bat an eyelid when she was introduced to Lena and Edo. Edo she knew from before and expertly kept him at arm’s length to avoid being slobbered all over. Mum and Dad just fell in step and did her bidding. Dennis was the one I felt sorry for. I don’t know what it is with mothers and sons but he got a hard time from her. He couldn’t do anything right and in her words was a ‘lazy good for nothing.’ Fortunately it was ‘water off a duck’s back’ and Dennis even confided in me, that he quite enjoyed stirring it up a little and the feeling of hurt was simply an act.

Chapter 40

Dad insisted on arranging a Board meeting and I had to forego a lab session one morning as we all met in the former library. All the original Board members were present including Carmella and Manolo was invited to sit in. Antonio joined us as non-executive Director. Dad started the meeting with some preliminaries when Gran burst in shouting, “Why wasn’t I told of this meeting? Why wasn’t I invited?” As she nudged Dennis off his chair and sat down.

“Hi Gran, you’re welcome to join us. Dennis, pull up a chair over there and we can proceed with your financial report please.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Chairman. Hi Gran. Although our investments have been varied, the only income stream we now have at the moment is from the Builder’s Yard and the turnover has increased substantially, particularly since Jurek, the General Manager, has changed things around. Our turnover has doubled and we have increased stock holding and variety, but our cash flow is perilously low. I’m loathed to go to the bank. We have only about three months of cash left to pay the wages and salaries, so I need to assess what other incomes are forthcoming in the short term.”

“Let’s extend our credit.”

“Sorry Dad, I mean Chairman, that’s not an option. Already we are getting favourable deals from our suppliers and we still need to nurture them to get the reputation back.”

“I agree,” shouted out Antonio supportingly.

“The hotel that Janice is setting up will be operational from next month and you’re all invited to road test the suites. For the following three months we have fifty per cent bookings which means we are at breakeven point at least. The restaurant opening has been delayed and is dependent on Paulo.”

“We shall be harvesting our first crop in the next couple of weeks and that depends entirely on having the right and safe equipment to carry out the job.”

“It’s OK Paulo. Oscar and I have found exactly what you need and it’s being assembled as we speak, should be ready in a week or so for trials. The agricultural garage suggested a modified small truck with proper hydraulics rather than converting the old tractor.”

“Thanks Manolo but isn’t that going to be expensive?”

“Only a bit more than converting the old tractor but it will have a fully enclosed cab and is likely to be more reliable.”

“That’s good Manolo but what stage are we with the trolleys and cages?”

“Ronaldo has got his men constructing four cages and we can buy a purpose built trolley tomorrow.  He suggest we only have one trolley and then off-load the cages with a gantry arrangement which we can hire from a garage equipment supplier until we get one made to suit. It doesn’t need to be that substantial.”

“Right Paulo, give me an indication when you can get the first batch of your product bottled?”

“If all goes well with the equipment, I reckon we should have some fifty litres available in say four weeks’ time Dennis.”

“Right, I will then bring forward my restaurant opening to six weeks from today and that will bring in another stream of cash if all goes to plan.”

“What are you all talking about? What is this stuff that you are producing Paulo?”

“It’s OK Gran. Paulo is producing some special wine and I’m going to sell it in my restaurant. It’s part of our deal.”

“What’s this about shortage of cash and cash flow problems you’ve all been referring to?”

“It’s OK Gran.”

“Don’t keep Okaying me Dennis. You know how I don’t like it!”

“Gran, Dennis is just pointing out that all the money we invested in the Company is running out and we are trying to sort out where the income is going to come from to cover the wages and things.”

“If you’re short of money then why didn’t you come to me? Why wasn’t I asked to invest in your concern, eh? Why am I being left out of things? Dennis, is this your doing?”

“No Mum, but we thought you might have other things on your mind with moving back to England.”

“Well I want to be included in all family matters. How much did you all put in?”

“Just fifty grand Gran.”

“OK, Dennis, arrange to have one hundred thousand transferred from my bank to where ever you want it. That’s a share for me and a share for your Granddad.”

“Whatever you say Gran! That should keep us going for another three months or more until other businesses come on stream. You can be our Operational Director Gran.”

“Don’t be facetious Dennis!”

“Sorry Gran. Now Paulo, you were going to detail some other product sales from the Monastery, weren’t you?”

“Well Manolo and Oscar are getting a plan together to increase our hen production so we can sell the eggs and poultry meat, and we will probably be able to harvest the olives and the sweet chestnuts and convert that to some cash. Antonio, what do you estimate that will bring in?”

“I would say you would currently get about fifty Euros of profit from each of the olives trees and say double that for the chestnuts. You’ve got say fifty trees and some twenty large chestnuts. You work it out Dennis.”

“Thanks Antonio and Manolo tells me, that the dead trees should bring in some thousand Euros profit in fire wood. It’s fetching quite a price these days.”

“We need to get the pigs back in the compound again Paulo to keep the weeds down. Shall I ask Joseph to let us have some?”

“Is that the Joseph that comes for lunch every day?”

“Yes Gran. He lets us borrow his tractor.”

“Well tell him to tidy himself up and stop making eyes at me Dennis.”

“I’ll tell him that if he tidies himself up he has a chance with you Gran.”

“Just behave Dennis. Let’s have none of that!”

“Yes Gran.”

“Now what are all of these bulldozers doing in the yard and why have we had to move lunch to the refectory?”

“I’ll answer that Gran.”

“What are you doing here Carmella, you should be resting. Dennis, is this your doing?”

“It’s OK Gran. I’m quite OK. We are having lots of alterations done to improve the  place. Antonio is going to renovate the outbuildings to house my Mum and Dad and the terrace is being extended, incorporating a large swimming pool.”

“Swimming pool? Who needs a swimming pool?”

“I do Gran, for the twins, for Oscars children and Paulo and I would enjoy swimming.”

“Well if it’s your idea Carmella then I won’t object.”

“Can we get on with the business please!”

“Don’t interrupt Dennis when I’m talking.”

“Sorry Gran but Manolo wants to say something.”

“Thank you Dennis, thank you all for inviting me to this meeting. I’m not sure that I should be here.”

“You have every right to be here Manolo. You are investing some money in the Company to renovate those buildings. Antonio, how much will they be worth when finished?”

“Probably over two hundred thousand I would say.”

“OK, let’s say your investment in the Company is that and we will make you our Technical Director since you are so useful around the place.”

“That’s very kind of you Dennis and all of you. I’m not sure what this all means.”

“It’s OK Dad. I will explain everything to you and Mum.”

“Thank you Carmella. It will be very nice to have our own house close to you.”

“OK folks, let’s finish the business with you Steve.”

“Thanks Mr. Chairman. I’ve put forward a couple of investments for consideration. First is an old quarry near Orgiva so that Dennis can transfer the bulk business there from the yard and also start the concrete making business. The second is a bankrupt housing development which the Company can pick up for peanuts in this recession and Antonio wants to run it as a campsite until conditions pick up for building.”

“The quarry is perfect since we need more space for stock in the yard and building land is always an asset. Let’s vote that we go ahead. Good, all in favour including you Gran and Manolo, you also have full voting rights. Now before we close Dennis has told me about your scheme Paulo and I suggest we explore expanding into poultry and also pig fattening so we can produce our own special Serrano Ham and other pork products.”

“That reminds me. What are the three goats doing tied to the tree in the yard? Get rid of them Dennis.”

“It’s OK Gran. We have bought them for meat. The butcher that comes tomorrow will despatch them and you can serve local kid on the lunch menu.”

“You’re turning into a farmer now Paulo, better than playing with those spiky things.”

“Thanks Gran, lets break for lunch.”

  

Chapter 41

Oscar and I were in full gear, fixing a temporary fence in the compound, so that Antonio’s fencing team could erect a second gate without danger. I spied Carmella, Maria, her mother and Manolo waiting at the gate looking rather angry and waving for me to come over. Since we had finished, I signalled to Oscar that we would leave together and pick up the tools later.

“OK guys, what’s the problem? What have I done wrong?”

“Paulo, Antonio’s bulldozer has just demolished the outbuildings that I was going to renovate for a home. Antonio says you know all about it.”

“Oh, I do Manolo and you can blame your lovely daughter for that.”

“I had nothing to do with that Paulo. You should have consulted me before allowing that. What is Dad going to do now?”

“Look Carmella, it’s no problem. The outbuildings were in the way of the extended terrace you wanted, so I agreed with Antonio to reposition Maria’s and Manolo’s building and bring it in line with ours. It was much easier to bulldoze it away and start again.”

“But Dad and Mum will lose the rustic look and feel to the place that they were looking forward to.”

“Shouldn’t worry about that, Antonio can make it as rustic as your folks want. Have you seen the plans? Lounge, two beds, two baths and small kitchen. A concrete roof with a false loess strewn on top and no bloody leaks when it rains. The ceilings have beams and slates between, all cemented in so no more creepy crawlies. The outside is rustic brick, stone and look-a-like adobe, painted white. If you want to make it more rustic then talk to Antonio.”

“But Paulo, I was going to do all the renovations myself.”

“Believe me Manolo, this will be much quicker and far more comfortable than those cockroach infested outbuildings. Ask Antonio to show you a number of houses like that, he’s built on the mountain. They look as if they’ve been around since Bobadil’s time. Believe me all of you. Now what else have you for me? I need to clear up before lunch.” Maria and Manolo went off in search of Antonio and I was accosted by Carmella.

“You’re a devious bugger. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Well a bit of shock tactics was called for and I wanted to divert the all blame to you. Antonio can knock up the home in less than a few months. Renovation would take ages and my Mum and Dad want to take over their apartment anyway. Dennis says your Dad is far too valuable to waste his time on dilapidated outbuildings. Look, they are already digging out the footings and the drainage. Trust me, they will be delighted.”

“Well don’t do that again. I don’t like surprises.”

“Well I have another surprise for you, I’m taking the afternoon off and was shall drive up the mountain road to Mulhacen, the views are terrific from there. We should be able to see the Mediterranean, even the coast of Africa if it’s clear enough. I know the road’s blocked but what the hell, I know a way round. If we are stopped then we are looking for a stray goat. Come on let’s go and get cleaned up for lunch. Gran is expecting us.”       

“Yes and we are having goat tajine, your favourite.”

“Not from those poor goats tied up we saw the other day? Who had the guts to despatch them?”

“No problem, the butcher did all that and since he knows the goatherd I invited him for lunch. Get to know your neighbours you know.”

“I hope he doesn’t bring his goats with him. They are rather ripe.”

“Of course not silly, eghm… he didn’t say. By the way Lena is making the tajine with Gran’s supervision of course. Your favourite I hear.”

“Too true! Since Gran went to Morocco many years ago, she’s been into their cooking, big way. I only wish she would make the ‘patatas pobres’ the local way.”

“You poor thing, you are so hard done to.”

Chapter 41

I came out of my deep slumber, dreaming of something quite ridiculous and was suddenly wide awake. Something had disturbed me. I sat up in my lonely bed, having been relegated to the spare room, since Carmella slept badly and sometimes wanted to read, knit or even watch TV. I don’t help with my heavy snoring and apparent tossing and turning all night. I listened for a noise, any sound that might indicate what had woken me. Then I heard footsteps rushing up to my window.

 “Paulo, Paulo get up. There’s been an accident with the dogs. Get your armour on. Meet you at the gate,” and I hear his hurried retreating steps. What’s happened now I though? Had the dogs run amok with the hens or worse still had they encountered the cacti. I hoped not, the large pots, topped off with wire mesh seemed safe enough. I slipped into shorts and T-shirt and donned my protective armour in quick time.

“Paulo, I came to feed the dogs after I’d done the hens and they wouldn’t come as usual. I then saw them lying still by the fence over there. I thought the worse and came to get you.”

“Oscar, they are dead. Look, this one has had its neck severed and this one has been stabbed in the eye. Look there’s some meat tied to a stick in its mouth. Who the hell would have done this?”

“Paulo! Look over there, the fence has been cut. Somebody has cut a hole in the fence. Look, the blood marks start from here. They must have cut a hole and enticed the dogs over with meat.”

“Yeah and when the dogs poked their heads out they were attacked. Oh God, what a mess. Do you think they got in? I wonder what they were after, since they must have come prepared to deal with the dogs.”

“I suppose such an imposing fence must protect something very special, so no doubt they came to investigate.”

“I suppose you’re right but the fence is to protect people by keeping them out but you’re right, it does look rather imposing. No, I hope to God they haven’t got in. We have to search the place for signs. Check all the pots and see if any have been disturbed or even missing. I’ll do this side and you do the other. Just be careful. Use your cattle prod if need be.” This was my worst nightmare. If anybody got hurt, this could jeopardise my future research, not to mention our plans with Dennis. I was worried and scoured the ground for signs of any intrusion. I just hoped that if they did get in they just scouted around and buggered off, disappointed.

“Paulo, Paulo, over here!”

“Oh God, the silly buggers have been poisoned! Check that one for pulse and breathing and I’ll check this one. You’ll have to take off you gloves but keep away from any scratch marks.

“This one’s breathing Paulo. He’s still conscious but delirious.”

“This one is alive too. I can see scratch marks on his arm; they both must have touched and rubbed against the cacti. Now Oscar, you go and get the trolley and quad bike so we can get these two out of the compound and I’ll contact the police and ambulance. Meet you at the gate in five minutes.” 

I let Oscar drive the Quad into the compound, pulling a brand new trolley, and closed and locked the gates behind him. We struggled getting the two men onto the trolley and Oscar drove back slowly with me walking alongside, making sure that they didn’t fall off. The Guardia Civil were the first to arrive. Fortunately, they were well known to us and when I explained what had happened they were more concerned about the dogs than the two men. They took one look at the two men and immediately recognised them as local rogues and were more interested is in getting a cup of coffee than in the unfortunate men. They seemed unimpressed that they might die and I might be someway complicit in their demise.

“Paulo, if these two buggers were daft enough to break in and kill two dogs, then they deserve everything that was coming to them,” said one of them in a dismissive way. I wasn’t so sure and I was worried that all my plans were going to come to an end. By now, the rest of the village was stirring and the news had spread with a crowd gathering around the trolley.

“Clear the way, what’s going on here Paulo?”

“Morning Gran, we’ve had a break in at the compound and these two unfortunates have been poisoned.”  

“They shouldn’t have been there! What are the Police going to do about it?”

“They also brutally killed the guard dogs,” piped in someone.

“Well get them out of here Paulo. They are not fit to be on this earth with us.”

“It’s OK Gran, an ambulance is coming to take them to hospital. The Police are down in the refectory getting some breakfast. Gran, can you get these people to go away and stop gawping at this scene.” I left Gran to clear the people away and to the refectory for breakfast as Oscar and I waited for the ambulance. Fortunately, I had a notepad with me, the essential accruements of any self-respecting research student. I wrote down what the poison was as far as I could and suggested some remedies for certain elements of the poison I had discovered. I was a long way from having developed an antidote but anything would help. I also suggested they should have an instant blood transfusion. The ambulance eventually came and I instructed that they should be instantly transferred to the Tropical Medicine Department of the Granada Hospital. This caused some problems and Oscar had to talk to someone at their depot to try and make some decisions. Rather than wait I got one of the Guardia Civil to order the ambulance driver to go to Granada and I would go with them to explain to the doctors. I also would take my mobile and Oscar would get me the number of the Department in question. At last the ambulance men understood the urgency of the situation and took off in a cloud of dust with all sirens blazing. I expected the Police to follow and at least lead the way but they were more interested in their breakfast. I hung on the best I could in the back and felt slightly cold and underdressed. I had stripped off my armour and had on only a pair of shorts and T-shirt plus my notebook and phone. I eventually managed to contact my professor who vouched for my being a research student and between us we managed to make the doctors at the hospital understand the gravity of the situation and that they would have to have to prepare for our arrival.

I felt awkward wandering into the hospital and one of the doctors took pity on me and lent me a white lab coat and a pair of slippers. He also offered me a stethoscope to complete the picture but I declined. The two men were immediately given a full blood transfusion and then I spent some time with the doctors and pharmacist trying to put together some form of treatment. Fortunately, their English was better than my Spanish but they managed to get an understanding of the problem. One of them went off to search the internet for information even though I told them that there wasn’t anything out there. The main Consultant said that the patients were now stable and that I could go home and that they would contact me in due course. I told them that the local Police had been informed but they didn’t seem to care one way or another. On my way out of the Department I spied Oscar waiting for me with a bundle of clothes and a lift home. I had envisaged some problem getting a taxi home. Who would pick up a man from a hospital in only shorts and T-shirt and no money to boot? On the way home I updated Oscar on what had transpired and he told me I had missed the kid-goat tajine lunch but Gran had thoughtfully kept a portion for me.  

Dennis was waiting for me and I had to go through the whole thing especially for him. He told me that the Police were not going to take it any further and had informed the burglar’s families and they were unlikely to press charges. We sat down and dissected the issue to death until we had formulated plans for all eventualities. The key element was to preserve my research project and even Dennis admitted that that was the main priority. We decided to upgrade our defences by putting up a perimeter fence to the whole property so no casual visitor could stumble in by mistake. The compound would be fitted with detectors to announce any unwanted visitors. We stopped short at electrifying the fence although we did decide on erecting an electric cattle fence to stop goats and other animals setting off the alarms. It would need a determined and foolish person to break in. We hoped that the news would spread that we were keeping life threatening plants inside the compound and I was going to get the local press to write a short article on my research project. These measures, we hoped would keep away the inquisitive and preserve our future plans. Our meeting was interrupted by Lena plonking down a pot tajine in front of me with a knife and fork. At last I could tuck in to one of my favourite dishes and I was ravenous having missed breakfast. Hospital coffee wasn’t much sustenance.  

Chapter 42

October was an extremely busy month. I had great success at the lab in isolating two more compounds from my poison and also managed to extract the potent flavour element in the liquid, extracted from the cacti’s flesh. This was just a private study of mine and was not going to be part of my thesis. I managed to establish that the substance was pretty harmless other than being addictive. Carmella was getting quite large and had difficulty in moving around, with the twins adding an extra ten kilos in all to her weight. Her Dad had repaired a rocking chair for her and also a wheelchair so that I could get her to the lunch table and the refectory. Evenings had gradually gravitated everyone to the refectory where people would take turns in making up a plate of tapas, to be enjoyed with a glass of Antonio’s tinto, to help the conversation along. My avocado guacamole, with a generous helping of tender cacti stems, was always in demand.

 Gran had taken Lena and Edo under her wing and the changes in them were dramatic, surprising everyone. Gran had taken Lena to Granada shopping and Lena returned totally transformed. Gran had somehow persuaded Lena to enter a beauty salon where Lena underwent a total makeover whilst Gran had her hair done. The dreadlocks had gone, so had much of the iron work off her face, which now even displayed some normal human colour. Her clothes were still outlandish but gone had the grim muddy coloured clothes to be replaced by more colourful, if still outlandish garb. She was no longer threatening and off putting.

 Edo was under a strict regime of Gran trying to smarten him up and making him look more mature. He had to march everywhere in good old fashioned British military fashion, or at least in sight of Gran, to straighten him up and develop a sensible walking gait rather than his usual shuffle. He now sported a proper shirt, trousers and shoes to make him look more presentable and his speech was now crisp, clear and no longer slovenly. I think he was a bit soft on Lena and probably Gran had encouraged that in getting him to change his manners and ways. Antonio was delighted.

Dennis had invited us all for a couple of nights to test drive his new hotel in Orgiva and we luxuriated in the Moroccan suites and the lavish food supplied by Janice. Carmella loved the change from our cockroach and mouse infested farmhouse. The old walls and ceilings were full of holes which were a haven to this livestock. With Carmella needing to rest so much, we couldn’t vacate the place and have it fumigated. The traps I set secretly were full every morning, however many I put out. I explained and showed Manolo the haul of vermin I was catching and demonstrated that he was lucky that Antonio had bulldozed the outbuildings. Dad and Mum had taken Manolo and Maria to show them one of Antonio’s rustic creations and they were most impressed and happy with the plans. Antonio had added a number of extra features especially for Manolo. At the back of the building was going to be a large garage which would be his workshop, whilst the car would be protected by a large carport. A store room or junk room was incorporated in the design to store all the unwanted paraphernalia that always accumulates in a house.

 The agricultural firm brought round the machine we had ordered to handle the cacti safely. It was a peculiar thing and instantly nicknamed ‘the octopus’ because of its four hydraulic arms on each side. It was based on an enlarged quad bike machine with large bulbous tyres, a fully enclosed air conditioned cab and four extending arms. The arms could be handled from the cab by swivelling it around and with a joy stick control, to use the various attachments. One was a clamp which would pick up the cactus stem and swivel it around to any angle. On the opposite side was a forklift like contraption that could pick up the large pots. The most normal attachment was an arm with a bucket for filling the pots with earth. The fourth side had an arm, to which a large plastic container could be attached to water the pots when required.

 We set up a sort of obstacle course in the yard, where we had to pick up an upright log, drive towards a band saw and cut a thin sliver off the log and position it upright again in a slot in the cage, supplied by Ronaldo. The last thing was to use the arm to slam the door cage closed. We all tried it including Lena and Edo with much hilarity. Lena was by far the most adept at controlling this contraption and Edo wasn’t too far behind. Gran came round to spoil the fun and drag people off back to work, leaving Oscar, myself and the rep to continue and check that it all worked as stated on the tin. I was delighted with it and even Carmella, wheeled out by her Mum approved of the safety features, particularly the fully enclosed cab. This meant that we could handle the plants safely at truly arm’s length.

Antonio’s men were busy constructing a fence all around the property as a primary defence and a security expert that Steve knew came and fixed up hidden sensors plus visible sensors so that any unscrupulous person could see that there was more protection than just a high fence. An electric cattle fence was put up to deter the wild animals though I didn’t quite see how they would get through the first barrier. Dennis explained it was to keep the pigs at bay and he would explain all when he had finalised his plans. The local blacksmith cum steel smith fixed up our double gates in the compound with electrical closures which would allow us through without dismounting from our vehicles. He also pointed out, that in his yard, he was storing a pair of gates for the main entrance and they had been with him for repair since the nuns had left. We had those refurbished and fitted. One of Dennis’s jokes was to slightly alter the lettering which now read ‘Monasterio De San Paulo’ which everyone enjoyed at my expense.

Three huge stainless steel vats were installed in my special bay down in the under-build plus various pumps and filters. I had read up on the internet all about brewing and wine making and considered myself an armchair expert on the subject. I even insisted on laboratory quality filters to be fitted to avoid using chemicals or other substances to clarify the liquids. Antonio was impressed. Whilst the builders were digging up the terraces, I had them lay another water pipe direct, but bypassing the deposit. That way I had access to absolutely fresh water which could be filtered before filling up the steel vats as required.  I was ready for the harvest and processing. The only outstanding piece of equipment was a small bottling plant but I could always borrow the equipment from Antonio since he only used his once a year and his wine bottling was nearly over.

Dennis’s builder’s merchants was doing good business particularly with the extra stock now held thanks to the moving of the bulky materials offsite to the quarry. The Hotel was to open in a week’s time and the staff were being trained up by Janice. Some of the cleaning staff had actually come up to the monastery to do a special ‘Spring Clean’ even though it was autumn. Dennis invited some of us to the new restaurant he was having refurbished and I was impressed by the layout and the progress. Lunch now at the Monastery was paella every day, as Dennis was training the chefs and the front of house staff. I provided him with a few cactus stems every now and again to boost the flavour of the chef’s various creations as they perfected the recipe and checked on the quality of the ingredients from various fish merchants.

Antonio and Steve were now bringing along a stream of clients and suppliers to lunch so the tables were quite swollen; particularly that Gran insisted the builders also joined us even though Antonio was reluctant. The work on the pool, buildings, and patio were going a pace. Dad, having had a second look a Antonio’s rustic creation, had decided to abandon his project of converting some cells in the main building into a luxury apartment for himself and Mum and decided to have a house built instead similar to Manolo’s. Antonio decided that since the swimming pool needed some shelter and protection from the winds, to build three rustic houses, interlinked by walls and arches on two sides of the large terrace. The terrace was again a work of art. Once the foundations, cables, pipes and drainage had been positioned, the tilers created two large circular platforms of local blue slate to represent the old threshing circles that are found everywhere on the hillsides in the Alpujarras.

 The foundations for the swimming pool looked enormous. The whole structure was constructed on the lower terrace so minimal digging out was required, only levelling it up to the main terrace. When I asked Antonio why he made it so large he told me it was going to be his show pool. He also assured me it wasn’t going to be Olympic size as I had imagined. At one end he was constructing sunken changing rooms with sauna, steam room, multi gym and on the top would be a bar area hiding an open kitchen area comprising pizza oven various barbeques, tandoors and ordinary gas ovens so that lunches could be prepared outside in good weather. This was going to be his showpiece site and, rubbing his hands together, added that it was going to bring him lots of new business particularly with the economy being in such a parlous state.

 He added that the rich were immune to the recession and would continue to spend on themselves and this special show site would lure them in.  I couldn’t fault him on his plans but pointed out that this was going to cost a packet or two. After a shrug of shoulders he added that if it didn’t work out we would all enjoy the facilities. I asked him to explain the intricate design of the swimming pool which he did at great length and with exaggerated passion. The pool would be ‘F’ shaped with the top arm being a paddling pool for the children. The middle arm would be steps down to the pool and the back of the pool would be open to create a sense of infinity. Some of the trees below would have to be trimmed to get the full effect.

At night the pool would be lit by coloured lights which would play on a row of fountains, on the open side. The front and side of the pool would be decked with wood which wouldn’t heat up as much in the summer sun to protect delicate feet. In the winter the pool would be covered over with wood decking to extend the terrace and only the fountains would continue. This all seemed to suit a glamorous hotel complex rather than a family home but I couldn’t really stop him. I looked forward to a hot sauna on a cold winter’s day in the Alpujarras.  

Chapter  43.

The first day of November was a historic day for the people of the monastery. This was the day that Oscar and I were going to harvest our first crop and everybody dropped their tasks to come out to watch, even Carmella was wheeled out to a grandstand position to view the proceedings. We donned our armour and Dennis gave us a mock blessing to the amusement of the crowd. I mounted the octopus and Oscar the quad bike pulling a trolley with a cage on top. We drove through the first gate into the compound and waited for them to close behind us. As the second gates opened, the crowd clapped to show their appreciation of the skills on display. I drove the octopus up to the appointed tub whilst Oscar sped over to the washing area to set up the power wash. I picked up a tub with the jaws and transported it to the wash area. I then switched to the cacti handling arm, gripped the stem and lifted. The whole cactus came out leaving the pot on the ground, just as we hoped. I then moved the octopus over to the wash area where Oscar washed down soil off the roots with the power jet. 

By this time our audience more than doubled since the inquisitive hens came to see the show. The smell of fresh soil got them excited and when Oscar had turned off the water some more adventures ones rushed over to scrat about in the soil. Suddenly they found things of interest in there and the others rushed over to help. Suddenly there was complete war with chickens chasing and pecking others to drive them away from the spoil. They had discovered the little rootlets left in the soil and were fighting over them with undue vigour. We watched them in surprise for a while then Oscar started up the band saw and placed a black plastic dustbin at the side to catch the cut off root

 With Oscar’s guidance I turned the stem to the horizontal and gingerly edged the stem into the band saw. A thumb’s up from Oscar and a push on the joy stick and the stem glided through the running saw and the roots dropped into the bin, like a head into the basket at a French guillotine, without the gruesome blood. A second thumbs up and I manoeuvred the stem to the cage and positioned it in an appropriate stand to the applause of the crowd. We repeated the procedure five more times to the thrill of the chickens and finally, with the mechanical arm, I slammed the cage door shut and we had six stems, neatly and safely stacked in the metal cages. Oscar drove off in the quad towards the gates, pulling our bounty behind him. As we drove out of the outer gate, the crowd exploded in shouts and applause which gave me great pleasure and I think they realised how important this project was to me.

We positioned the cage at the back of the bay with the help of the rented engine lifting gantry and then I positioned a five litre plastic bottle full of water above each cut stem. An irrigation dripper had been screwed in at the base of each bottle that allowed the dilute sugary solution to slowly drip into the stem. My research suggested that this solution would speed up the fermentation process and increase the alcoholic strength of the resultant mash. We did a high five in celebration and slid the bay doors closed behind us. Having taken off our helmets, both of us were grinning like Cheshire cats with pleasure.

“What are you two so pleased about?”

“Hi Dennis, don’t you think we put on a good show?”

“Terrific as a circus act but is this all you’re going to do today?”

“Don’t be so impatient, we are going to discuss the operation, have a look at the video that you have recorded and check our risk analysis before we do anymore. I need to reassure Carmella that we are not taking any chances.”

“I reckon that’s all overkill from what I saw, but have it your own way. I think you’d better do a risk analysis for the hens. Did you see how they attacked the soil? They must have been after the rootlets. Just proves our point. Now when will the first brew be ready?”

“I knew you were going to ask that. Probably about ten days. Now that we have added some sugary solution I can’t tell when the fermentation will stop but I’ll be checking every day. Tomorrow we will harvest sufficient stems to fill all six cages.”

“Look Brother, I want to open the restaurant in two weeks’ time, do you think you will have sufficient juice and flavoured water going?”

“Don’t worry Dennis, just look at the size of those steel vats. I should think, full, they will last you a year.  Don’t look so shocked, we are not going to fill them this time around.”

“Now Paulo, an important question for you? How are these cacti of yours going to survive the winter months of January and February? We get snow and frost here you know.”

“What was Grandpa’s favourite saying when faced with questions like that? ‘Don’t teach your granny to suck eggs!’ Of course I’ve thought about it and Oscar and I have decided that that we will harvest the majority of the crop before Christmas and see how the rest fares up to the bad weather. If there are any signs of a problem we’ll bring them into one of the bays, especially the stems that I have earmarked for producing more seed. I have questioned Carmella on this point and she assures me that in Mexico, in the mountains where these things live naturally, they survive in temperatures well below freezing.”

“Well better be safe than sorry. Now on another matter, you stay Oscar, you probably have some pointers for us. Now when you have discomknockerated all these beauties you’re going to have lots of roots, casings and innards spare. I suggest that we use this material for animal feed and finish off chickens and pigs just before slaughter. Just long enough to get the flavour into the meat. How long did you feed the hens we tested Oscar?”

“Three weeks seemed to be enough. Everyone liked them. I’m not sure about pigs though but I have heard that some breeders feed their stock on fishmeal until the last few weeks than switch to more expensive feed to finish them off. Apparently one farmer had rustlers in that stole his whole herd. Came in a lorry one night and all gone! He was nicely compensated by the insurance and was laughing his socks off with the thought of his pigs being butchered. He reckoned the meat would smell and taste of rotting fish and the rustlers would have to dump it rather than sell it.”

“OK, let’s say we let the pigs roam in our orchards and we feed them on extra feed doctored with cactus remains for say a month. We can then get our butcher to kill one and test its meat for flavour. In fact, we will follow your example Paulo and test after the second and third week to check.”

“That’s bit expensive isn’t it Dennis, to throw away a whole pig?”

“Don’t worry Oscar, the gash meat can go and feed the dogs and be ground up to feed the hens, these tests may save us lots of feed in the long run.”

 “Now brother, the Million Dollar question. Where are you going to get all the pigs?”

“Easy, Joseph can get them for us. Some he will breed especially for us, others from the animal markets, I’ve spoken to him and checked on the feasibility of all this. He reckons if we are prepared to pay slightly over the odds then we can have as many as we want.”

“But who is going to look after them and what facilities do they need?”

“Joseph reckons that if we let them loose in the orchards we probably get better meat on them than when they are all cooped up in sheds. We’ll get a better price for them and they only need shelters, mainly to keep the sun off them in the summer.”

“Do you intend to sell them then on the open market?”

“No way. We will butcher them here and convert the legs into Serrano ham and the rest of the meat into smoked cuts and chorizo sausages. The waste and bones we’ll grind up and feed to the hens. Same with the hens, the meat we will strip off the bones and the waste feed to the pigs. Oscar tells me there will be some residual flavour left in the waste so we might as well use it.”

“What are we going to do with all the chicken meat then Dennis?”

“Good question Paulo. I’ll open another restaurant and it will serve a variety of dishes based on pork and chicken.” 

“Aren’t we running before we can walk Dennis?”

“Look brother, those scratting chickens convinced me that we are onto something good here. A plush restaurant on the Costa’s could be a gold mine with the special ingredients we have, but you’re right, we will see how my Paella place fares first before we expand but we need to make plans. I can envisage me closing down the Orgiva operation and moving it to the Costa’s and charging the earth for a piece of Bellman’s smoked chicken with the mysterious ingredient.”

“You’re a dreamer brother! Keep your feet on the ground.”

“Just look where we are now Paulo. Look at the wealth in the investment we have put in so far and once the product start flowing onto the market we’ll have problems barrowing our loot to the bank.”

“Dennis, can I invest in your venture? Antonio says I should ask you.”

“There you go brother, even Oscar believes in me. Sure Oscar, well find a way of including you. You’re family now.”

The next day our audience had dwindled to just a flock of hens as we harvested the rest of the crop. The only change was that we lifted the stems straight out of the tubs rather than transporting the whole lot to the processing place. This had two important effects, one it was quicker and secondly it spread the hens all over the compound as the soil with tiny rootlets dropped off as I moved the octopus over rough terrain. They were becoming a nuisance, all congregating around the wash place. Lastly, we ferried the bins of roots back to the bay and carefully inspected each piece for any poisonous spines. Our cutting had been accurate but even so we were extra careful. We finally decided to chop off the root of the stem to separate them. The stem ends we put into a separate bin to keep until any remaining spines had fallen off the stored stems and the roots could then be chopped up and used to feed the hens to flavour the eggs and some could be used for our own consumption in salads, gazpachos, guacamoles and stews. There was a knock on the door of the bay. I slid open the door a fraction and saw Gran waiting there patiently.

“Can we talk Paulo? I need to get something off my chest.”

“Sure Gran, just let me have a quick word with Oscar and I’ll be with you.” I asked Oscar to sweep the floor where we had been butchering the roots and put the debris in the isolation bin and went out to meet Gran.

“Can you take your helmet off Paulo and let’s go and sit on the bench over there.”

“Sorry Gran, I get used to wearing this thing. OK Gran, what do you need from me?”

“I was talking to Dennis and he has many hair brained schemes up his sleeve. I just wanted to know your version. Carmella has told me about the cacti research you’re involved with and reassured me of your safety with these nasty things but what’s all this about food production?”

“Well Gran, we believe, that is Dennis and me, that the cacti stems and the fermented juices have flavour enhancing properties and may even be addictive. You’ve witnessed some of that with Dennis’s paella tests. Every time he puts bits of young cacti into his cooking the people here love it. When he leaves it out he gets lot of criticism, even from you Gran.”

“Oh, oh I see! I though he was doing it on purpose just to annoy me.”

“No Gran, he was just testing out the flavour and effect on us all.”

“So you mean when Maria made that goulash to your Dad’s recipe, she used some of your cactus to flavour it? So that’s why people thought it better than your Dad’s creations.”

“Sure Gran, we’ve been slipping it into all kinds of things, even the eggs taste better. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Oh I have Paulo but I thought it was because they were allowed to roam free. Now Paulo, Dennis tells me he’s going to use this stuff in his restaurant.”

“That’s true Gran and he’s banking on the fact that the customers will flood in once they have had a taste and the money will start flowing into our coffers rather than spilling out.”

“I can see the benefit of that but I’m just not sure about the ethics of all this.”

“Gran, all the big food companies do this, especially the fast food ones. They all beef up their products with excess sugar, salt and other chemical flavour enhancers. At least ours is a natural and harmless product.”

“Well thank you for enlightening me on this matter. I’ll have to go and think some more about it. Now can I use this cactus stuff myself without anyone going behind my back?”

“Sure Gran, we have four bins of roots in there that you can use. The peelings and rejects you can hand over to Oscar to feed the chickens. I’ll bring the bins around to the kitchens and help you to sort it.”

“Thank you Paulo, I thought for one moment that I was losing my culinary touch.”

“Gran, you were too much of a hawk eye for us to slip anything by you.”

“Now go and get rid of that ridiculous garb and bring those bins up for me to inspect.”

“Yes Gran!”