‘I’m very sorry,’ Alvarez replied humbly. ‘The meal is probably ruined.’ ‘Never, with you doing the cooking.’ ‘Only a man could say something so foolish.’ But the implied compliment was sufficient to prevent any further complaints. She returned into the kitchen. Alvarez sat at the dining-table, picked up one of the tumblers. ‘Shove the coñac over.’ Jaime turned sideways to look at the kitchen doorway. Alvarez leaned across and picked up the bottle. ‘Is this all that’s left?’ he asked, as he stared at the few centimetres of brandy. Jaime turned back, reached under the table and brought up a second bottle of Soberano, three parts full. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ ‘She’s on again about drinking.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Watching television and some bloody fool doctor says that half the family problems are caused by people who drink. Doesn’t add that the other half are caused by people who don’t drink. That’s started a donkey galloping about in her brain.
