The Last Resort Read Online Free PDF

wearing a soft khaki Bel jacket, some kind of light-colored shirt. The tie . . . hmm, I don’t know, maybe pistachio-colored, with little teakettle designs on it . . . something like that. He was always very up-to-the-minute that way. The pants, gray . . . yes, gray. Very possibly, this was what he was wearing the day of the races. Why not? The point is, as you can surely understand, that what I am about to tell you is the very cornerstone of the story—are you certain that you don’t want to hear the version I heard through the maid connection? It’s much more intriguing, because, you see, it presents a number of additional tidbits that . . .”
    “What on earth is the maid connection?”
    “Darling. It is by far the best way of learning about indiscretions and unspeakable secrets. Through the hired help, naturally. That is the maid connection. My maid tells your maid, who tells it to so-and-so’s maid . . .”
    “I don’t want backroom gossip,” said Molinet, unaware of the decorous and somewhat-rusty masculine instinct that had suddenly come to life inside of him. “I have always found servants’ gossip rather sickening.”
    “Oh, you’re ruining my story . . .”
    “I’m interested in the facts. We’ve been on this for almost two hours,” he protested.
    “I know, I know, but I’m warning you now, it’s not half as intriguing,” she said bluntly, her tone of voice suddenly changing. For a few moments, before she was once again suffused with the drama of her tale, Fernanda narrated the sequence of events like someone reciting a list of Visigoth kings. Setting (colon): a country estate that the Valdéses had just bought in La Adrada, some sixty miles outside of Madrid (semicolon); a very charming country house, no ugly Boteros or Warhols on the walls, like in the Steine home.
    “Fernanda, are all these details truly necessary? Can’t we skip the
House and Garden
description?”
    “The details, my dear, are to give you an idea of precisely how abnormal Mercedes and Isabella’s friendship was. We’re talking about two people who have ab-so-lute-ly nothing in common. But of course as you well know, one of the golden rules of the human condition is that when a woman—or a man, for that matter—attempts to steal someone’s mate, the first thing he or she does is become the inseparable confidante and soul mate of the future cuckolded spouse. Isabella had her eye on Valdés, and then all of a sudden the two couples began doing everything together, the women putting together little outings and events, sharing the most private secrets—I invite you over to my house, you invite me over to yours, etcetera. And as it turns out, our four protagonists decided to spend the weekend together. Until now everything was perfect. But at this point, on that very Friday, it turns out that Valdés was feeling ill. Not so ill that he had to cancel the weekend date—the opposite, in fact. He actually thought some fresh air—listen closely, Rafamolinet: fresh air!—would do him some good. Now, Mercedes couldn’t get out to the country until the following day, so Valdés invited Steine and Isabella to go with him. The three of them were to leave Madrid at about eight in the evening and Mercedes, who had some things to take care of in town, would arrive on Saturday morning. Everything clear up to now?”
    “Yes, everything is clear. I just don’t see why it is so hard for you to—”
    “Just pay attention, because if you miss even the smallest detail, the story will lose all its meaning and I will be forced to tell you the version I heard through the maid connection.”
    “Fernanda! I beg of you!”
    “They reached the country after dinnertime, and the only person in the house was a Moroccan maid named Habibi—incidentally, very good friends with my housekeeper, who talks. Boy, does she like to talk.” Molinet executed a few imperious coughs, and Fernanda continued.
    “Now, if Valdés was a bit out of sorts