[h3]Town of Ibiza, Balearic Islands, Spain - August 1960[/h3]

Night was beginning to fall across Ibiza and the gas lights in the town centre flared to life one by one, their soft yellow glow falling across the wide arches and tapered white columns that ran around the edge of the square, enclosing it on three sides. Small balconies on the second floor began to fill with day labourers as they returned home to push open the wooden doors, allowing a flood of cool evening air rolling in off the ocean to push away the days heat. A small fountain burbled happily at the centre of the square, filling the whole space with its gentle sound.

For Diego Marcilla it was the end of a long week working the waterfront where the ocean liners came and went, their swarms of passengers like a very tide themselves as they engulfed the town during the day before draining away at night. His feet were sore from standing all day and his brain hurt from speaking English for so long. It was not his native tongue and it was always a chore for hours a day.

He passed a Policia Municipal car, the two officers assigned to it reclining in small metal chairs outside a little cafe, half finished pints of beer in front of them, hats casually slung into the spare seats. It was a far cry from the images he had seen from Madrid of the heavily armed police and soldiers on every corner. He waved at the two and both smiled back, one raising his glass in a small toast. Nothing really changed on Ibiza. 

"Diego!" The voice that hailed him was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, and the only thing that brought him this far from his home every Friday. The girl who hailed him was seated at a small two person table beneath the spreading branches of a large almond tree. She was short, perhaps no more than five foot, three inches, her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, chocolate brown eyes almost as bright as her pearl white smile. 

"Hola, Isabel!" He responded with a smile of his own. The two had been seeing each other for near on a month now and he could not remember being so happy. Diego had been born on Ibiza and never left the Island. Isabel on the other hand hailed from Valencia, which might as well have been the United States for how far it was in Diego's imagination.

"How was work?" She asked, standing as he approached. They exchanged a quick greeting, a kiss on either cheek, before sitting again. Diego couldn't help but notice how Isabel smelled like a rose. She looked like one, beautiful and delicate. 

"It was fine, thank you." He sat back in his chair, holding up one finger as he made eye contact with a watchful bar tender. "There was a British ship in the harbour today and they were demanding, as always." She was staring intently at him as she always did when he spoke and he realized just how she made him feel as though no one else mattered when they were together.

"You smell lovely, by the way." He said the words and instantly regretted them, for they sounded lame in his own ears. She didn't seem to mind however and offered him her dazzling smile.

"Thank you! Mamma brought me back some perfume from Valencia." Isabel's mother managed the only bank on the Island. Her family were Jews and, like anyone of the non-Catholic faith, were tolerated as long as they paid an extra tax. Anyone who wasn't Muslim that is.

The waiter arrived with Diego's beer and he took a long drink. Isabel sipped on the wine she already had, glancing around happily at the square as it slowly began to fill with other workers coming home to begin their weekend. This portion of the town was home to mostly young and single professionals. The old king had encouraged men and women alike to seek education and improve themselves, it seemed the new Viceroy had no desire to reverse that decision and so a young woman like Isabel could live alone and work anywhere in Spain, something the older men of the Kingdom still struggled with. 

"Are you still thinking of returning to the mainland?" Diego asked finally. Isabel had talked of returning to Valencia and he did not want to lose her, nor had ever considered going with her. "Soon, I mean." He added hastily when she smiled shyly at him. 

"Maybe..." She said teasingly. The two were as serious as you could be without actually having sex. She was open to the idea, and he knew she had before, but he was a strict Catholic and knew that God would never forgive him. On more than one occasion she had pushed him on the subject and he almost given in, there was no doubt she was beautiful and he would be lucky to find a wife like her. Once she had stripped slowly in front of him and touched herself until he had to hurry from the room before his will broke completely. 

The two policemen, their drinks finished, were half sitting, half leaning, on the hood of their car watching the ever growing crowd in the square. One of them caught Diego's eye and raised a mischievous eyebrow at him. Everyone knew everyone else's business in such a small town and the policemen could hardly have failed to notice the budding romance. Diego felt himself flush red and looked away quickly, very glad that the fading light hid the colour change from Isabel.

"Do you have to decide soon?" He asked earnestly. Isabel had talked of attending the University in Valencia, or maybe even Madrid, and Diego knew that she had to apply soon or she might lose her chance. If she did, she would leave, and he did not know what he would do without her. 

Isabel nodded. "Mhm. Mamma says I should decide in the next week or so." She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as a stiff breeze began to blow in from the ocean, the first breath cool against the heat still rising from the tiles. "It is a big step of course."

Diego could tell she was holding something back but he didn't pry, he never pried. He knew that she would eventually tell him what was on her mind, if she wanted to. He was acutely aware of her small breasts pressing against her white shirt now, the cool air making her nipples stand out against the cloth.

"I even thought of becoming a Police Officer." She said slowly and he felt his jaw drop, nipples forgotten. 

"You? A policeman, why?!" He asked, speaking louder than he had intended but she didn't seem to notice.

"I don't know really, but I like helping people, and let's be honest, they don't seem to work very hard sometimes." She gestured to where the two officers were now flirting with a pair of young women freshly arrived from their day of selling horseback tours into the Island interior. 

Diego opened his mouth to protest, then shut it quickly as he actually thought about what she had said. Isabel was certainly far more adventurous than he was, and given the opportunities he was certain she would go far in whatever field she chose. She was watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye and he knew he should something.

"I think you will be amazing, no matter what you do." Even as he said the words he knew that he would one day lose her, and he was sad for that. She read his face and reached across the table, one hand gently taking his and holding it until he finally looked up at her. 

"Thank you Diego. That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." She swallowed and he realized that she was just as nervous about this conversation now as he was. "Perhaps you would consider coming with me?"

His initial reaction was to say no, refuse her at once, but he restrained himself. He loved Ibiza, the Island, the town, the people, his family, all of them, but he had never known anything else. For nineteen years he had lived in splendid isolation, insulated from the wider world beyond. He had seen the newspapers, listened to the radio, and wondered what Madrid would be like. Would it be huge? Was Delgado as scary as people said he was? Was there actually a library the size of Ibiza? Maybe he could fly a plane, see the King and Queen in person, people said they were beautiful. In that moment he felt something stir inside him, a surge of excitement and even hope at the idea of going with her. 

He squeezed the small hand that was holding his and smiled. "Perhaps I will."