The Angel's Game

The boss, dressed in white, was walking down the jetty, holding the hand of a girl of about seven or eight years old. I recognised the image instantly, the old photograph Cristina had always treasured without knowing where it came from. The boss reached the end of the jetty and knelt down beside the girl. Together they watched the sun spill over the ocean in an endless sheet of molten gold. I stepped out of the hut and walked along the wooden gangway. When I reached the end, the boss turned and smiled at me. There was no threat or resentment on his face, only a hint of melancholy.

‘I’ve missed you, dear friend,’ he said. ‘I’ve missed our conversations, even our small arguments…’

‘Have you come to settle a score?’

The boss smiled and shook his head.

‘We all make mistakes, Martín. I was the first. I stole what you loved the most. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I did it out of fear. Out of fear that she might drive you away from me, from our work. I was wrong. I’ve taken a long time to admit it, but if there is anything I do have, it is time.’

I observed him carefully. The boss, like me, had not grown a day older.

‘Why have you come here, then?’

The boss shrugged his shoulders.

‘I came to say goodbye.’

His eyes concentrated on the girl whose hand he was holding and who was looking at me curiously.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘Her name’s Cristina,’ said the boss.

I looked into her eyes and she nodded. I felt my blood freeze. I could only guess at the features, but the look was unmistakable.

‘Cristina, say hello to my friend David. From now on you’re going to live with him.’

I exchanged glances with the boss but didn’t say a word. The girl stretched out her hand to me, as if she had practised that movement a thousand times, and then laughed in embarrassment. I leaned down towards her and shook it.

‘Hello,’ she said in a quiet voice.

‘Very good, Cristina,’ said the boss approvingly. ‘And what else?’

The girl looked as if she’d suddenly remembered something.

‘I was told you’re a maker of stories and fairy tales.’

‘One of the best,’ the boss added.

‘Will you make one for me?’

I hesitated a few seconds. The girl looked anxiously at the boss.

‘Martín?’ the boss whispered.

‘Of course,’ I said at last. ‘I’ll make you as many stories as you want.’

The girl smiled and, drawing closer to me, kissed me on the cheek.

‘Cristina, why don’t you go down to the beach and wait there while I say goodbye to my friend?’ the boss asked.

Cristina nodded and walked away, looking back and smiling with every step. Next to me, the boss’s voice sweetly whispered his eternal curse.

‘I’ve decided to give you back what you loved the most, what I stole from you. I’ve decided that for once you will walk in my shoes and will feel what I feel – you won’t age a single day and you will see Cristina grow; you will fall in love with her again and one day you will see her die in your arms. That is my blessing, and my revenge.’

I closed my eyes, saying no to myself.

‘That is impossible. She will never be the same person.’

‘That will depend on you, Martín. I’m giving you a blank sheet. This story no longer belongs to me.’

I heard his steps fade away, and when I opened my eyes the boss was no longer there. At the foot of the jetty, Cristina was looking at me intently. I smiled at her and she hesitated, then came over.

‘Where’s the gentleman?’ she asked.

‘He’s gone.’

Cristina looked around her, at the endless, deserted beach.

‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’

She smiled and sat down beside me.

‘I dreamed that we were friends,’ she said.

I looked at her and nodded.

‘And we are friends. We always have been.’

She laughed and took my hand. I pointed in front of us, at the sun dipping into the sea, and Cristina watched it with tears in her eyes.

‘Will I remember one day?’

‘One day.’

I knew then that I would devote every minute we had left together to making her happy, to repairing the pain I had caused her and returning to her what I had never known how to give her. These pages will be our memory until she draws her last breath in my arms and I take her with me to the open sea, where the deep currents flow, to sink with her forever, and escape at last to a place where neither heaven nor hell will ever be able to find us.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón