Comrade Charlie Read Online Free PDF Page B

somewhen: no particular hurry.’ The contract signing confirmed everything, which made it pretty fantastic, but his father-in-law was never at the plant in the afternoon and he was the only person it was really necessary to impress.
    â€˜So we’ve got lots of time?’
    Krogh looked nervously across the bed. ‘What for?’
    She giggled. ‘Shopping. Just shopping. Well… looking, too.’
    â€˜I thought we’d shopped already,’ said Krogh. That’s all they had done, apart from screw, ever since he’d arrived in Los Angeles: he reckoned he’d parted with enough to pay the taxes on Rodeo Drive and Wiltshire Boulevard for a year.
    â€˜Honey!’ she said, in the pouting, little-girl voice she had for asking special favours.
    â€˜I didn’t say we couldn’t,’ assured Krogh quickly. He liked being the big spender, the whatever-you-want-you-get man. He could afford it, after all.
    She came closer to him, nuzzling against him. ‘Now?’
    â€˜Sure. Now, if that’s what you want.’
    â€˜You’re very good to me. And I love you for it. I still like the car, of course. Love it like I did when you bought it for me.’
    The sudden jump confused him. ‘What?’
    â€˜My car. I still like it.’
    â€˜Good.’ It was red, the colour she’d wanted: a Honda sports. Krogh liked to treat them both the same so he’d bought one for Barbara, as well. Barbara had chosen blue.
    â€˜It’s just that I’ve seen this convertible: a Volkswagen GTI, all white. White upholstery, white top, white wheel trim,’ recited Cindy, as if she were reading from the sales brochure. ‘It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life and I love it to death and want to show it to you. Not to buy. Just to show you, so you can look. That OK?’
    â€˜Sure that’s OK,’ said Krogh. The price of a new car would be swallowed without a ripple in the profits coming to him from the Pentagon deal. He wished he’d thought of it as a gift instead of her having to ask. He could still make it a surprise for Barbara.
    â€˜I really do love you,’ repeated the girl. ‘Don’t you ever leave me, will you?’
    â€˜You’re the one who’ll want it all to end one day,’ said Krogh realistically.
    â€˜I won’t!’ insisted Cindy. ‘I won’t ever want that!’
    â€˜Let’s not talk about it.’
    â€˜I said noon. It’s a quarter off eleven already.’
    Again Krogh was confused. ‘Noon?’
    â€˜To meet the salesman who’d got the dinkie little VW. I knew you’d say yes because you’re so wonderful so I made an appointment to see him. You don’t mind, do you?’
    â€˜No,’ sighed Krogh. ‘We’d better get cleaned up.’
    The salesroom was on Sunset, just short of where it ceases being smart movie-magazine Hollywood and gives way to the tacky I-could-have-been-a-star cocktail places. The car was on the front, glistening from a polish job, the Sold sticker already on the windscreen. Cindy said the man must have misunderstood. They went through the hood-lifting, ass-in-the-seat-for-comfort routine and the salesman said he’d take the Honda sports off their hands at a price they would not get anywhere else. Krogh bought it on the spot, which he’d known in bed that morning that he would and Cindy had known in bed that morning that he would. Krogh insisted on all the paperwork being in his name – in owning the car, in fact – just like he owned the condo on Malibu and the apartment and the car in San Francisco. Krogh knew exactly what he was doing and with whom he was doing it and when the girls moved on or he moved on he didn’t intend losing out on real estate that was appreciating in value all the time or on automobiles that still had some equity in them. As they parted with handshakes the salesman said: