Sins of the Fathers Read Online Free PDF Page A

was simple and uncluttered but it had that uncluttered simplicity which only money can buy. The kitchen, a replica of a room
     which Kevin had admired in a New England farmhouse, was large and airy. An old-fashioned range, installed for ornamental purposes,
     gleamed black beneath a partially exposed brick wall. The closets were solid maple. A sturdy rectangular table stood in the
     middle of the room with four matching wooden chairs. Herbs grew in pots on the window-sill, copper pans hung on the wall and
     the warm red tiled floor glowed in the soft light. Kevin employed both a cleaning woman and a daily housekeeper to maintain
     his home in the immaculate order which he demanded and which one meal cooked by Teresa promptly destroyed.
    ‘Sorry everything’s in such a mess,’ said Teresa, clearing a space at the table. ‘It’s the housekeeper’s day off and I offered
     to cook this meal for Kevin because he gave me five dollars to buy a pair of shoes. The soles finally dropped off the other
     pair and the little guy aroundthe corner said they couldn’t be fixed any more … That’s odd, I’m sure I had some olives for your martini. I wonder what I
     did with them.’
    ‘Kevin lent you money?’
    ‘No, it was a gift. He never makes loans.’
    ‘That’s what I thought. Well, if you can accept money from Kevin—’
    ‘I can’t. That’s why I’m cooking him this meal in return. I guess I’ll have to look around for another job now my savings
     have run out … Sorry, honey, but I can’t find those olives, maybe the cat ate them. Two ice cubes in the martini?’
    ‘Thanks. Teresa, you don’t have to go looking for another job. I’ve just had this great idea—’
    Without warning she turned on me. ‘I’ve had just about enough of your great ideas! And I’ve had just about enough of you talking
     about money! I’m sorry, but I’m in a filthy mood today because my work’s going so badly. That’s why I’ve got to get back upstairs
     to the canvas as soon as I’ve presented Kevin with his dinner.’
    ‘Hey, wait a minute!’ I was thrown mentally off balance by this totally unexpected attack and could only stammer in protest:
     ‘What I’ve got to say’s important!’
    She slammed down the packet of rice. ‘So’s my work!’ she shouted at me. ‘You think it’s just an amusing hobby because I don’t
     make any money at it – money, money, money, that’s all you think about, day in, day out! Or
do
you think of anything else? I’m damned if I know! I’ve known for some time now that you don’t understand the first thing
     about me, but now I’m beginning to wonder if I understand the first thing about you – oh, you talk and talk and talk on a
     surface level but what really goes on beneath all that big-time charm and sexy
savoirfaire
? I can’t make up my mind whether you’re a nice decent guy or a real bastard. I guess you have to be a bastard if you’re prepared
     to waste your life in a corrupt, materialistic, repulsive profession like banking, but—’
    ‘Just a minute.’ I had pulled myself together by this time and knew exactly what to say. I did not raise my voice but I altered
     my tone, just as I did whenever a client became truculent and had to be painlessly put back in his place. ‘Let’s get this
     straight. Banking’s a fine profession. You may not think it’s as much God’s gift to humanity as painting pictures, but if
     you knew a little more about banking and were a little less busy assimilating some fallacy-ridden Marxist crap, you’d see
     that bankers perform a necessary service for the economy and therefore for the country as a whole. So quit pushing me this
     nineteen-thirties fable about the bankers being the bad guys, okay? Just pause tothink for a moment. What’s happening right now in 1949? It’s the bankers who are going to put Europe together again after
     all the soldier-heroes and politicians have blown it to bits! And that brings me to what I