Читать книгу Narcosis - Francisco Garófalo - Страница 7

I didn’t count for anything in that house, left to fester in any old corner. If I wanted to change my lot in life, I would have to do it myself. Only my cousin Carla, who was eight years old, helped me or showed me any sign of affection, although I think really it was a sentiment more akin to pity.

Carla was the only one who showed any concern for me and it is thanks to her that I survived in that house.

I gave a name to the pity she felt.

That day of my fifth birthday, I went upstairs to my Aunt Carlota’s room to steal some money from her as I had realised that was my only way of getting any money to help me escape.

I had no other options.

I had learnt how do it – another lesson from the television programmes.

I opened the door to her room very gradually as I wasn’t sure if she had gone out.

I went in very slowly, trying not to make any noise. I looked inside and saw my aunt laying on her bed next to a man who was not her husband. I moved a little closer to look at the guy’s face and I saw that it was don Arnulfo’s best friend, don Nicolás.

You can’t always see what is happening under your nose but know that the truth will always come out. However much you try to hide it, however much you think nobody can see you, know that they are watching you; nothing stays hidden forever and we pay for everything in this life.

Don Nico, as everybody called him, always came to the house for lunch and everybody adored him, nobody more so than don Arnulfo who always spoke highly of him. He used to say that don Nicolás was his best friend and that was why he thought of him as a brother.

That day I realised why my aunt was never annoyed when they arrived home drunk. Instead, she took care of them and quickly took don Arnulfo to the bedroom so he could sleep, then took don Nicolás to the other bedroom and stayed with him for a few hours before going back to her husband. I also realised why my aunt always invited don Nicolás over when her children were at school and her husband was at work; they spent the time ensconced in the bedroom. I never said anything because I didn’t understand but that day I realised what was really going on.

My aunt was like the evil women in novels. Those women who cheat on their husbands while giving the impression of being saints. Those heartless women who only think about money. Like the first woman who existed in the world. Like the woman who ate the forbidden fruit. The one who led the man to his downfall. To adultery.

I must admit that I hated my aunt. And I had been presented with an opportunity for revenge.

An idea went round in my mind. I liked it and for the first time I felt a desire. A desire that grew in intensity inside me.