Hell Is Always Today Read Online Free PDF

got to come out, Joanna. Nothing else matters. You’re a creative artist yourself. You know what I mean.”
    “Even so, when this commission is finished you’re taking a long holiday.”
    Frank Marlowe joined them and she said, “I’ve just been telling Bruno it’s time he took a holiday.”
    “What an excellent idea. Why not the Bahamas? Six months…at least.”
    “I love you too.” Faulkner grinned and turned to Joanna. “Coming with me?”
    “I’d love to, but Frank’s lined me up for the lead in Mannheim’s new play. If there’s agreement on terms we go into rehearsal next month.”
    “But you’ve only just finished a film.” Bruno turned to Marlowe and demanded angrily, “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you ever see beyond ten per cent of the gross?”
    As Marlowe put down his glass, his hand was shaking slightly. “Now look, I’ve taken just about as much as I intend to take from you.”
    Joanna got in between them quickly. “You’re not being fair, Bruno. Frank is the best agent there is, everyone knows that. If a thing wasn’t right for me he’d say so. This is too good a chance to miss and it’s time I went back to the stage for a while. I’ve almost forgotten how to act properly.”
    The door bell chimed again and the maid admitted another couple. “It’s Sam Hagerty and his wife,” Joanna said. “I’ll have to say hello. Try to get on, you two. I’ll be back soon.”
    She moved away through the crowd and Marlowe watched her go, his love showing plainly on his face.
    Faulkner smiled gently. “A lovely girl, wouldn’t you say?”
    Marlowe glared at him in a kind of helpless rage and Faulkner turned to the barman. “Two brandies, please. Better make it a large one for my friend. He isn’t feeling too well.”
     
    Jack Morgan and Grace Packard were dancing to a slow cool blues. She glanced towards Faulkner who was still at the bar. “He’s a funny one, isn’t he?”
    “Who, Bruno?”
    She nodded. “Coming to a do like this in those old clothes. Bringing me. Have you known him long?”
    “We were at school together.”
    “What’s he do for a living?”
    “He’s a sculptor.”
    “I might have known it was something like that. Is he any good?”
    “Some people would tell you he’s the best there is.”
    She nodded soberly. “Maybe that explains him. I mean when you’re the best, you don’t need to bother about what other people think, do you?”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “Mind you, he looks a bit of a wild man to me. Look at the way he handled Harold at the pub.”
    Morgan shrugged. “He’s just full of pleasant little tricks like that. Judo, aikido, karate—you name it, Bruno’s got it.”
    “Can he snap a brick in half with the edge of his hand? I saw a bloke do that once on the telly.”
    “His favourite party trick.”
    She pulled away from him abruptly and pushed through the crowd to Faulkner.
    “Enjoying yourself?” he demanded.
    “It’s fabulous. I never thought it would be anything like this.”
    Faulkner turned to Marlowe who stood at his side drinking morosely. “There you are, Frank. Fairy tales do come true after all.”
    “Jack says you can smash a brick with the edge of your hand,” Grace said.
    “Only when I’m on my second bottle.”
    “I saw it on television once, but I thought they’d faked it.”
    Faulkner shook his head. “It can be done right enough. Unfortunately I don’t happen to have a brick on me right now.”
    Marlowe seized his chance. “Come now, Bruno,” he said, an edge of malice in his voice. “You mustn’t disappoint the little lady. We’ve heard a lot about your prowess at karate…a lot of talk, that is. As I remember a karate expert can snap a plank of wood as easily as a brick. Would this do?”
    He indicated a hardwood chopping block on the bar and Faulkner grinned. “You’ve just made a bad mistake, Frank.”
    He swept the board clean of fruit, balanced it across a couple of ashtrays and raised his