Read Online Give the Devil His Due by Sulari Gentill - Free Book Online Page A

permanent.
    â€œI thought her father didn’t like you…” Edna began. They’d all heard Clyde’s accounts of the man he swore was a retired Fascisti.
    â€œThe man loathes me,” Clyde groaned. “But Rosie’s convinced he’ll get used to me.”
    â€œWell, you don’t want that.” Milton’s warning was in earnest. “Once Martinelli gives you his blessing, it’s all over, mate.”
    â€œLuckily, he hates the very idea of me.” Clyde’s mood lifted a little. “He’ll never let Rosie marry someone like me.”
    â€œPerhaps you should ask for her hand before he changes his mind,” Milton suggested.
    Rowland offered no advice, he had none to give. His friend’s love life had become inexplicably complex of late. It was not that Clyde wasn’t devoted to Rosalina, but that he was not in a position to get married. Certainly not as an artist. And he was not ready to not be an artist, even for Rosalina. Rowland could have helped, would gladly have helped, if Clyde would allow him. But for reasons that were probably more than simple pride, Clyde would not hear of it.
    Milton was less circumspect than Rowland. “Be sure to tell them you’re not hungry.”
    â€œWhat?” Clyde demanded wearily.
    Milton leaned in and outlined a plan. “At dinner, claim you’re not hungry. Pick at a couple of things, but eat nothing. And screw up your face a lot.” He nodded confidently. “Then her mother will hate you as well. My granny cried once because I wouldn’t have a second helping. They take it very personally.”
    â€œI don’t want to make Rosie’s mother cry.”
    â€œIt’s self-defence, comrade, just in case the old man has a change of heart.”
    Clyde called the poet an idiot.
    â€œPoor darling,” Edna said, rubbing Clyde’s arm. “I’m afraid I have another engagement as well, Rowly.”
    â€œWhere are you off to?” Milton asked.
    â€œI’m not really sure. Errol’s collecting me.”
    â€œFlynn?” Clyde said. “You’re stepping out with Flynn?”
    â€œWell, yes?”
    â€œYou realise he’s on Rowly’s team?” Clyde threw his arms in the air. “If we lose because you break the poor blighter’s heart, Ed…”
    â€œOh for heaven’s sake, don’t be absurd. I don’t care about the race!”
    They were still arguing when Milton and Rowland rose to leave.
    Ernest Sinclair was ready when his uncle’s flamboyant motorcar pulled up. Half a dozen boys waiting to be collected for weekend visits stood in an orderly line at the designated collection point, just outside Central Station, after catching the train from Moss Vale. Ernest paused only to have his name signed off by an older boy before running to the yellow Mercedes.
    Rowland stepped out and shook Ernest’s hand. “How are you, Ernie?”
    â€œI’m very well, thank you, Uncle Rowly. Oh hallo, Mr. Isaacs.” Ernest peered in through the window. “Aren’t you getting out of the car?”
    â€œShould I?”
    â€œNobody can see you in there, Mr. Isaacs.”
    Slowly, Milton alighted, glancing questioningly at Rowland who was equally bewildered. The poet shook hands with Ernest and then they all climbed back into the car and set off.
    â€œRighto, Ernie, why did Mr. Isaacs need to get out of the car?” Rowland asked when it became clear that Ernest was not about to volunteer the information.
    â€œDigby Cossington Smythe’s never seen a real Communist up close. He gave me two shillings.”
    Rowland smiled.
    â€œI believe you’d best give me one of those shillings, Ernie,” Milton said looking back at the boy. “Since it seems that I am the means of production!”
    Ernest fished a coin out of his pocket.
    â€œI’m not sure you ought to be taking your classmate’s pocket