THAT BLOODY MESS

Oh, first, do let me sigh . So much has transpired that barely have I the strength to move from this bed, let alone type. A quick respite at the pavillion simply wasn't enough, dear, not for what I just experienced.

First, darling, I must warn you to never ever wear a gown of any sort while riding one of those little scooters. I found it fashionable fun in the beginning, but quite the burden for where I was going, which was off to everywhere I may never have been. Which always is my point in life.

Zipping about on that scooter at all of 30 kms we went down one way streets during la siesta and it was the most daring fun. I might well have been a bull in Pamplona, sans the crowd, what with that gown twirling fast all up round my head.

The du Pluexs were swell as long as I left them to their suite, they're heavy drinkers, you know and can become such the bore more suddenly than not. All was fine if I stayed only with Harry, who just simply begged and begged to come to Spain with me. Darling, have you noticed the price of petrol and a box of cigaretes? Thank God I haven't money or I'd have to purchase them myself.

Anyhow, darling, you'll never imagine the circumstance Harry and I found ourselves in. Just a spectacular moment of complete insanity. Well, the du Pluexs are great friends with the Baekelands and invited Harry and I to join them at their villa Estaca el simone round 9p. You remember, darling, that insane family that invented Bakelite, which became the modern form of plastic? (That's a story in itself) Well, they're just mad, you know? The whole lot of them. I needn't try to express their level of madness, which is limitless, as you surely remember them from your trips to the States. FRANKLY MAD.

Now, the Spainiards were lovely to me, of course, and helped Harry and I to revel in our adventure. And certainly, please, don't get the idea that the Baekeland's possess a drop of Spanish blood, because they haven't!
They are no more than Americans with passports!

THEY'RE TERRIBLY FRIGHTENING. I KID YOU NOT.

And the du Pluex's? Well, I'll never see them again. Oh, darling, they're awfully sore at me.
But, I was simply abashed at their American friends' neglect of table manners and delight in the dangerous sport of murder along with incestious behavior. I adamantly refuse to tolerate such obnoxious trivialties. Well, anyhow, darling, all was marvelous as we were enjoying our cocktails, that is until Barbara Baekeland's son, Antony, came running from his bedroom at her with some sort of art he'd done. That's right, a giant canvas, and came running like a wild boar and smashed it over her head. Well, Barbara just went on talking as if nothing had happened. And the du Pluex's? Well, they too acted as if nothing unusual had just wacked Barbara's head.

Needless to say, I looked at Harry and then at the du Pluexs with nothing short of shock. Then, Mr. du Pluex took me aside and whispered ever so charmingly into my ear that Antony was sleeping with Barbara and they might be having a lover's spat. At this, darling, my cocktail slipped right from my hand and crashed in shards onto the marble floor. Oh, by the way, the pattern was outstanding, just so you know. A delicious slab of marble they say that was imported from Morocco.

Anyway, I stood up and told Antony if he was sleeping with his mother and it caused him such nasty emotions that I'd get him a knife my very self and he should just do away with her, you know, as he was so ruining the party.

Well, Barbara said she'd get it herself, and went right to the pantry and pulled out a little razor edge steak knife, wonderful, by the way, for cutting filets and the sort. And, darling, darling, right there in front of us all, he stabbed Mrs. Baekeland, straight through her Chanel dress, and it was so beautiful, stabbed her dead, completely. Such the bloody mess.

And can you believe that the du Pluex's blamed me for this, darling? That I'd ruined the party? Which was absolute nonsense, as Antony had started the rucuss, not me. It was horrid how they turned on me. Did I mention my V. gown was the most beautiful colour of aqua? Anyhow, I did apologize for the mess I'd made from the broken cocktail glass.

Darling, never have I been so thankful to have Harry by my side.
Oh, my precious Harry; I'm quite sure he wanted to stay, as he himself seemed to have fallen for Antony. Isn't that the way it always is, darling? Those naughty boys are so enchanting if not mesmerizing. But, as always, HE PUT ME FIRST. He came round and grabbed my arm and whisked me right out of that God awful place faster than our scooter ever could go.

We motored straight to the police station to file a report, but by then la siesta was over and so many Spainiards were crowding the streets that they all noticed my gown and were reaching out to touch it so that we just had to, had to, stop and talk fashion before we actually made it to the station. I had to give the PEOPLE what they desired, you know? So give or take a few hours, I finally was able to rush in a frantic like state to tell the captain all of what had happened.

And, darling, do you know what he said to me? He asked me if I was speaking of the Baekeland family and of course I answered yes. He then thanked me, as if I had just given him one of my wonderful articles as a gift. He wasn't fazed in the least, but seemed rather pleased. I asked him if he were not going to send some officers round to report what I had witnessed, or at least to take Barbara's dead body away. And then he said the most marvelous thing. He said, "Why bother?" He told me it was just another dirty American down.

Well, with that, Harry and I went straight into a fit of laughter, right there in the station's doorway with all the Spainiards looking on from the street.

Isn't that a riot? Darling, I didn't even get in the least bit of trouble. Oh, I love those Spainiards even more so now than ever before. Heavens knows what happened to the du Pluexs, as you know me, darling, I never look back. Oh, well, just chalk them off; I haven't the time to kiss up old friends, and certainly not the slightest inclination. And as far as I'm concerned, it's the Baekeland's own bad manners that caused this mess, as truly I believe they took advantage of the Spanish people's custom of allowing children to the table.

So, you can imagine the state I'm in. Just exhausted. Completely exhausted and my hair's just a mess. And you needn't bother to ask what my beautiful gown now looks like. I've thrown it to the trash and changing into lovely cotton candy pink coloured lounge wear to meet Harry down at the bar after my bath. Oh, and most likely I'll wear those dainty puff slippers you sent over. I'll look stunning, which is the whole point, if not the only point, of my evening.

Darling, don't even bring up the Post. I haven't the time to wire an article and still have so many emotions NOT to face.

Oh, by the way, I've read with interest where Mexicans are experiencing difficulties with guns and the like supplied by Americans. And now with my having become embraced by their people, I truly feel as if I could relate, you know, to the PEOPLE. They are one in the same aren't they? Spainiards and Mexicans? Well, no matter, they seem close enough. Now, there could be a story for me, darling. A truly intriguing adventure. I'll talk it over with Harry to see if he'd like to escort me into such danger. You never know darling, they may be in need of a Mexican Queen. Oh, Harry will get such a kick when I share him my brilliant new thought: Queen Harry!

As is, my social calendar is booked for the season, so Mexico will have to wait; and we'll now not leave till late afternoon tomorrow before motoring over to France. I'm sleeping in.

Oh, darling, how fun it all would have been had you been along.

The Spainiards are simply mad about ME.

-Jacqueline