In Rio's Shadows

Chapter 3 The Journey

CHAPTER 3

THE JOURNEY

Blanca settled into the window seat on the plane. Threading a hand through her long hair, she watched the baggage-handlers load the luggage hold and wondered about their lives. Did they have secrets, or were their lives open books? Were they as anxious as she was about the plane’s smooth take-off and safe landing?

The voice of the pilot jarred her into the present, announcing the flight would take ten hours and thirty-five minutes to reach Rio De Janeiro, Brazil. She shook away her daydreams, clipped on her seatbelt and ignored the passenger beside her whose bag had knocked her feet.

As the aircraft took off, she gazed over the miniature houses, trees, and people below and sighed in relief and dread, wondering how her new life would be in a new country for the next six months. What discoveries would she find?

The back of the seat pressed uncomfortably against her back as she fought back chills while the plane experienced slight turbulence. The female passenger beside her smiled but Blanca turned away with a frown. She hated planes, and always dreaded the take-off and landings. If there was another way to travel, she’d be the first to take it.

When the in-flight meal appeared, Blanca chose the bland fish and rice dish, served with a Brazilian beer called Caracu. Later, she read a few chapters of a romance novel, and failed to sleep. Still, she was not prepared when the pilot announced they were about to land. Her heart beat fast, and she fought back the shakes. Reality suddenly hit her, as she’d never travelled anywhere on her own. This was a new and daunting experience.

After the plane landed roughly, she picked up her bag and rummaged into it for her phone to check the time had changed. Beads of sweat fell across the back of her neck and a tightening of her chest alerted her to her new reality. It is just a trip.

***

Blanca took a calming breath as the locals and tourists lined up, slowly departing from the aeroplane to meet the hustle and bustle of Galeao Airport in Rio de Janeiro. Long delays and a string of questions in customs led to further dread towards her new adventure. Heading towards the baggage claim area, Blanca bumped into a young man who wore dark glasses and multiple layers of clothing. “Oh, so sorry.”

The man smiled. “No, I’m sorry. Enjoy your day.” He headed towards the other side of the airport while Blanca waited for her suitcase, dodging people who more than once stepped on her feet.

Her phone vibrated in her bag: a loving message from Daniela. As she put her phone back inside her bag, her hand brushed a piece of paper. She unfolded it: Leave the secrets alone had been typed on it.

She toyed with her fingers, her feet frozen in place. What the hell was this, and where did it come from? It had to be a silly prank. No one but her had access to her bag. She swallowed and remembered the man bumping into her. Did he slip the note in her bag while distracting her with his kind smile? What did this damn note even mean? What secrets?

Blanca almost missed her suitcase on the conveyor belt. She hefted it off and wheeled it towards the exit.

As she stepped outside, the heat hit her in the face. In January, Spain was in the midst of winter, but she’d landed in Brazil’s summer.

She hailed a cab and a young driver with dark curls and stubble smiled as he dropped her suitcase into the boot of his car. As they drove to the city, he tried to make small talk. “Are you here on holiday?”

Blanca’s chest tightened, not knowing what secrets Brazil held. “I’m here for work, but only temporarily,” she tried in her rusty Portuguese.

Blanca gazed in awe as the taxi drove past mountains, broad, white-sand beaches and sky-blue waters under the early morning glare. She had read in a brochure that Ipanema was one of the safest places in Rio de Janeiro; as the second-wealthiest part of Rio, after another district called Leblon, the beach was patrolled by more police officers than other areas.

In the city of Ipanema, Blanca watched cyclists, roller skaters and skateboarders riding alongside the beach, baking in the blinding sunshine. On the fine sand, others played volleyball and other sports. Hills surrounded the Ipanema beach, and hotels, cultural centres, and museums lined the busy streets. She passed designer shops, including Louis Vuitton, Cartier, and Mont Blanc as well as pizzerias, Spanish tapas, and Brazilian restaurants. She saw a shopping strip filled with boutiques, bars, and travel agencies. It was packed with shops—a tourist’s dream.

As the cab drove through the most affluent area in the south of Rio de Janeiro, Blanca wondered what it would be like to visit those expensive, posh restaurants.

The taxi stopped at a medium-sized house with a cream-coloured concrete façade. The driver gave Blanca her suitcase, and she rolled it up a paved pathway through a rose-filled front garden.

The house felt both familiar and mysterious. Would she get answers about why her last trip to Rio De Janeiro had been cut short? Her parents had always been tight-lipped about that trip. She knew her family held a secret, one she was determined to uncover. She wondered whether the note she found in her purse was related to her family.

What if she didn’t like what she discovered?