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doubt, decided to take out the paper too. It was probably one of those lists of errands Bea would always make to avoid forgetting anything.
    When I took a closer look I realised it was an envelope. A letter. It was addressed to her maiden name, Beatriz Aguilar, and the postmark dated it a week earlier. The letter had been sent to the home of Bea’s parents, not to the flat in Santa Ana. I turned it over and when I read the name of the sender, the basement keys slipped out of my hand.
    Pablo Cascos Buendía
    Bewildered, I sat on the bed and stared at the envelope. Pablo Cascos Buendía had been Bea’s fiancé when we started going out together. The son of a wealthy family who owned a number of shipyards and industries in El Ferrol, he had always rubbed me up the wrong way, and I could tell the feeling was mutual. At that time, he had been doing his military service as second lieutenant. But ever since Bea had written to him to break off their engagement I hadn’t heard any more about him. Until now.
    What was a letter from Bea’s ex-fiancé, with a recent date stamped on it, doing in her pocket? The envelope was open, but I hesitated for a whole minute before pulling out the letter. Realising this was the first time I had spied behind Bea’s back, I was on the point of replacing it and hurrying out of there. My moment of virtue lasted about ten seconds. Any trace of guilt and shame evaporated before I reached the end of the first paragraph.
    Dear Beatriz,
    I hope you’re well and feeling happy in your new life in Barcelona. You haven’t replied to any of the letters I’ve sent you these past months and sometimes I wonder what I’ve done to make you ignore me. I realise that you’re a married woman with a child and that perhaps it’s wrong for me to write to you, but I confess that even after all this time I can’t forget you, although I’ve tried and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m still in love with you.
    My life has also taken a new course. A year ago I started to work as head of sales for an important publishing firm. I know how much books mean to you and working among them makes me feel closer to you. My office is in the Madrid branch, although I travel all over Spain for my work.
    I never stop thinking about you, about the life we could have shared, the children we might have had together … I ask myself every day whether your husband knows how to make you happy and whether you didn’t marry him through force of circumstance. I can’t believe that the modest life he can offer you is what you want. I know you well. We were colleagues and friends and there haven’t been any secrets between us. Do you remember those afternoons we spent together on San Pol beach? Do you remember the plans, the dreams we shared, the promises we made to one another? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. Since we broke off our engagement I’ve been out with a few girls, but now I know that none of them can compare with you. Every time I kiss other lips I think of yours and every time I touch someone else’s skin, it’s your skin I feel.
    In a month’s time I’ll be travelling to Barcelona to visit our offices there and hold a few meetings with the staff about a future restructuring of the firm. I could easily have solved these matters by letter and telephone. The real reason for my trip is none other than the hope of being able to see you again. I know you’ll think I’m mad, but that would be better than thinking I’d forgotten you. I arrive on 20 January and will be staying at the Hotel Ritz on the Gran Vía. Please, I beg you, let’s meet, even if only for a while. Let me tell you in person what is in my heart. I’ve made a reservation in the hotel restaurant for the 21st at 2 o’clock. I’ll be there, waiting for you. If you come you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and I’ll know that my dreams of regaining your love might still come true.
    I love you, always,
    PABLO
    For a couple of