Soul Fire

there is nothing left to be done.’
    ‘Even though I know what he is? What he did?’
    ‘I trust you to know when to leave things alone. Remember what happened when I tried to make things better. I will not have you endanger yourself, too, Alice. The last thing I want is
another waste of a life.’

40
    When I get outside again, the bright sunshine hurts my eyes and makes me dizzy.
    No text from Lewis about Burning Truths, but Cara’s messaged me: MATE! Where we meeting for lunch? Come to the park. It’s huge! There’s beer! & sexy
dangers! Besos – means kisses in Spanish. The guy told me lst nite. Guess how I found out, ha ha. Miss you, hon, xxx
    Sexy dangers? Perhaps she means dancers, though knowing Cara it could easily be either.
    I smile. After the intensity of the conversation with Javier, a chilled-out lunch with my best friend is exactly what I need. I’m not a machine: an hour or two lying in the sun,
chatting about nothing, will help clear my head.
    Of course, I’m still going to keep my promise to Javier and go to see where he lived, but going straight away seems a bad idea. Look what happened when I rushed headlong into talking to
Gabe. It’s better to plan properly before I get my second – and probably my last – chance to help Javier find peace.
    I follow the tourist map towards the park, though the crowds slow me down. On the main street, waiters try to ambush me with their seafood menus. Families tackle ice-cream cones heaped high with
pastel scoops. It reminds me a bit of days out with Mum and Meggie in Brighton. One summer, when it had rained non-stop from May till July, she pulled us out of school the first time the sun shone.
We tried to build castles with pebbles and we went on the rollercoaster and then ate so many chips we could hardly climb the hill for the train home.
    Despite everything that’s happened, Meggie and I were lucky, weren’t we? Compared to Javier and his sisters, we had the perfect childhood.
    It takes me half an hour to get to the park gates. Statues stand guard at the entrance: the male one has a body to rival the best on Soul Beach. But I realise it’s not going to be easy to
find Cara; the park is almost as busy as Barcelona beach. Everywhere I look, people are doing stuff: juggling, jogging, tightrope walking.
    I set off anti-clockwise round the edge of the park, getting my bearings. Everywhere I look there’s a fairy-tale building: a bright pink clock tower, a gothic castle with turrets, an
enormous wooden greenhouse. There’s a boating lake and a life-size sculpture of a mammoth with tourists posing for photographs underneath. There are dogs and babies and couples walking hand
in hand.
    Latin music is playing somewhere, so I follow the rhythm. In the distance I can see an ornate bandstand mounted on white marble. I catch glimpses of couples dancing.
    Sexy dancers , I suppose. Which must mean Cara’s around here somewhere.
    The sun is shining through the fancy ironwork, which makes the dancers seem like silhouettes. The music and their movements seem to suit this city perfectly: passionate, energetic, but just a
little bit edgy.
    I wish I could dance like that. Meggie could, of course. One week she’d convince millions of viewers that she was the wildest Carmen ever, full of Latin passion. Then the next she’d
be all in white, making even the most determined atheists believe in God with her Amazing Grace . She was almost as good an actress as she was a singer. But was she acting with us, too
– pretending everything was OK when all the time she had a stalker or someone threatening her?
    The music changes to something slower paced. I walk towards the bandstand, where spectators are clapping and calling out to the dancers. I’ve only ever seen dancing like this on Strictly . There’s something different about watching it live. I guess some of these are real-life couples, so they’re putting their love and passion into every movement.
    Oh, God! No.
    Cara and Ade. Dancing .
    His arm is tightly wrapped around her waist, and hers is draped on his slim shoulder. I take a step back but I needn’t have bothered. They’re so busy trying to get the moves right
that they don’t notice anything except each other. They’re giggling as they get it wrong, while the other couples on the bandstand weave around them.
    As Cara and Ade keep repeating the same moves, I try to convince myself that they’re just messing about, being tourists. Except