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104 erotic stories to disguise herself, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as though she had toothache, or wrapping her head in a shawl as they do in the country, seemed to guarantee the secrecy of our risky affair. All the same, as always happens in such cases, after a while we became less careful, and she began to allow herself liberties which could well have proved to be fatal. For example: one of the things which delighted her the most (and me as well) was to look at herself naked in the tilting mirror in the bedroom, running the risk of somebody coming in before I could stop them. On one occasion my wife almost caught her in Eve’s clothing. She was just finishing getting dressed when someone knocked on the street door, leaving us in no doubt that it was someone who knew the place well. Marta hardly had time to escape by the patio door. It was my wife, who never used to go to the house, but who for some reason – no doubt due to her condition, poor thing – had decided to come herself to see how I was, as when I woke that morning I had complained of a headache, so that I could get out sooner into the fresh air… Opposite the office was the pharmacy owned by an old apothecary, who by that time sold absolutely nothing, and who only opened up on Sundays; more than once I had thought I could see the figure of Baltasar Ponciano behind the glass-fronted door which looked out onto the square, and this had made me warn Julia to take more care, although to my surprise she replied forcefully: ‘Oh yes? Is he here to spy? Fine, let him know. He’ll be bursting with envy…’ I feared that nothing but harm could come from such carelessness, but love, and the desire which she engendered in me, blinded me, and our meetings became more frequent with fewer precautions. April was coming to an end; my wife had successfully produced a strong boy, dark as a berry, but she was weak since she had haemorrhaged massively after the birth; she remained in bed, but the finicky anxiousness she had recently
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dead woman’s grove 105 demonstrated had receded, and she seemed to have returned to her earlier acquiescence and good humour. It was she who reminded me of the Mayday holiday, suggesting that I should spend it at Pegos Verdes, to which I agreed most graciously. The holiday fell on a Tuesday. On the preceding Sunday I was waiting for Julia in the office, looking out onto the square through the bedroom window, when I distinctly saw Ponciano going into the pharmacy, and then his figure posted at the glass door. I hurried to place a large red vase at the window, which was an agreed signal for Julia to come in through the patio door. She arrived soon after, but was so carefree that she only noticed the signal when she was almost at the house, and hesitated before taking the other route. ‘What happened?’ she asked, laughing as she entered. I explained. ‘Yes, but what was worse was that at the other end of the road I saw Isidro, the shepherd from Vila do Bispo who was filled with lead…’ ‘Did he see you go down the road?’ ‘I’m sure he did.’ ‘Aren’t you scared?’ ‘I’m not scared of anything any more… And I do feel you ought to know that I’m beginning to think José Cravo really couldn’t care, and that he’s thinking of leaving me…’ ‘Really? That would be wonderful…’ I told her that I was going to Pegos Verdes on the following Tuesday, and asked her to make a traditional doll for the feast. This effigy, which is covered in flowers, presides at the celebrations. ‘Of course; and as it’s the first time I’ll have been to the feast I must show everyone that no one can make a doll quite like mine.’ When Sagreira arrived I hurried to speak to him about the planned celebrations, which I wanted to be really spectacular. I gave him enough money for food, and told him to see that two fat sheep and half a dozen hens were killed. I also called

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104 erotic stories to disguise herself, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as though she had toothache, or wrapping her head in a shawl as they do in the country, seemed to guarantee the secrecy of our risky affair. All the same, as always happens in such cases, after a while we became less careful, and she began to allow herself liberties which could well have proved to be fatal. For example: one of the things which delighted her the most (and me as well) was to look at herself naked in the tilting mirror in the bedroom, running the risk of somebody coming in before I could stop them. On one occasion my wife almost caught her in Eve’s clothing. She was just finishing getting dressed when someone knocked on the street door, leaving us in no doubt that it was someone who knew the place well. Marta hardly had time to escape by the patio door. It was my wife, who never used to go to the house, but who for some reason – no doubt due to her condition, poor thing – had decided to come herself to see how I was, as when I woke that morning I had complained of a headache, so that I could get out sooner into the fresh air…

Opposite the office was the pharmacy owned by an old apothecary, who by that time sold absolutely nothing, and who only opened up on Sundays; more than once I had thought I could see the figure of Baltasar Ponciano behind the glass-fronted door which looked out onto the square, and this had made me warn Julia to take more care, although to my surprise she replied forcefully:

‘Oh yes? Is he here to spy? Fine, let him know. He’ll be bursting with envy…’

I feared that nothing but harm could come from such carelessness, but love, and the desire which she engendered in me, blinded me, and our meetings became more frequent with fewer precautions.

April was coming to an end; my wife had successfully produced a strong boy, dark as a berry, but she was weak since she had haemorrhaged massively after the birth; she remained in bed, but the finicky anxiousness she had recently

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