A Crack in the Wall Read Online Free PDF

Laura, who never speaks, or asks, or begs, Laura who has merely lifted up her nightdress and lowered her pants to halfway down her thighs, sufficient for him to find a way in. Laura does her bit, notsuspecting that there is another woman in this bed, naked and illuminated by the light from the television set that nobody’s watching: it is Marta who moves beneath him, coaxing from Pablo’s body something only she knows how to command.
    Laura takes a tablet, turns off the light and settles herself into a shape for sleeping, her back to him. Pablo studies his wife; the glow from the television set is enough to highlight her still-youthful shoulder, her lightly tanned skin, the small scar she has always had on her left shoulder blade. Laura makes an involuntary movement, kicking out, as though she is dreaming of falling into a well. He, meanwhile, falls into another, that open footing that was waiting to be filled with cement the next day. Even when he closes his eyes he still sees it in front of him, he can’t help it – impossible to make it disappear. But this time he can make the gaping hole in the ground wait in vain for Pablo to do what Borla tells him: to throw the body of a man into it. This time he says no, he will not do it. And Marta doesn’t cry, or beg him or tremble. And then, so as not to let the hole remain empty, Pablo dives into it. And he doesn’t drop in like a dead weight but floats in the air like a feather, drifting in a limitless, bottomless space, and the endlessness of his fall causes him more anguish because, if Pablo Simó had the choice, he would rather plummet down and be smashed to pieces.
    He turns off the television. Minutes go by, perhaps even an hour, and he can’t get to sleep. But he must try, he should take advantage of the quiet, the exhaustion of a sated body. Following the curve described by Laura’s body, Pablo settles himself behind her in the bed – not touching her this time – and covers his head with the pillow so that the dawn light that will be filtering throughthe window in a few hours won’t waken him. Just as he is about to fall asleep, at that strange point somewhere along the line of fading consciousness, he hears Laura say in a hoarse voice:
    â€œPromise that tomorrow you’ll talk to Francisca.”
    And Pablo promises that he will.

4
    Over the following days Pablo hears nothing more about the girl with the rucksack who came looking for Nelson Jara; nor does anyone else at Borla and Associates. Laura’s worries about Francisca occupy his mind and, although up until now Pablo’s only intervention has been a hurried exchange on the way back from school, one dominated by awkward silences and monosyllables, Laura raises the subject every night, usually when they are in bed, obliging Pablo to contemplate all kinds of possible scenarios, ranging from adolescent mischief to juvenile delinquency.
    Until one April morning, when Pablo goes to the estate agency that handles Borla’s new builds in order to discuss with the employees various promises that have been made in their name to potential buyers: an extra window somewhere completely inappropriate, a dividing wall to be put up because the buyer absolutely must have an extra room, another wall taken down to make a room bigger, a dressing room made into a study or a study made into a dressing room, more sockets, taps where there aren’t any pipes, a gas outlet on the balcony… Modifications either suggested by the buyer or included as a condition when the time came to complete the sale, which the seller, under pressure, reckoned to be “a nuisance, but one the architects can easilyaccommodate”. But even though they use the plural and refer to “the architect s” , really they mean Pablo Simó, to whom Borla has assigned the task of meeting clients’ demands, with the strict instruction that no sale should ever be lost, even if the changes