It turned out to be the [1] Marbella Club. The Pérez family stepped out of the taxi and made their way inside. María, fanning herself with a lovely Sevillian fan painted with flowers, declared that this was just the place for a cold drink before pressing on. The Hopkins, delighted to discover at last the establishment they had heard so much about, followed them through to the garden terrace. They settled at two adjoining tables. The heat left one's throat parched and one's skin taut, and everyone ordered something cold with a certain urgency. The waiter, a portly fellow with thinning hair and an astonishingly straight moustache, went about taking orders with the polished efficiency of a man long accustomed to serving half the aristocracy of Europe. When he reached Juanito, the youngest of the Pérez children, the boy did not hesitate: he asked for a Fanta orange. 'I'm terribly sorry,' said the waiter, addressing the child with the same courtesy he would afford any ot...
