Of Love and Hunger by Julian Maclaren-Ross

Author:Julian Maclaren-Ross [Maclaren-Ross, Julian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2021-12-20T20:00:00+00:00

24

Sukie’d got my note all right. She was sitting in the corner of the café when I came in.

‘So we meet at last,’ she said. ‘Bloody day?’

‘Not so bad,’ I told her. ‘Two coffees, please, miss.’

Then I said: ‘I’ve got a surprise for you. Two in fact.’ I slipped a couple of halfcrowns on the table in front of her. ‘Five bob you lent me last week.’

‘The sucker, or another jackpot?’ Sukie said.

‘Neither. Fellow I knew out in Madras. Have a fag.’

‘What’s your second surprise?’

‘That’ll keep till later.’

‘Tell me now.’

‘Not yet.’

Truth was, I didn’t think my story was up to scratch, thinking it over. I wanted to put off showing it to her as long as possible.

‘All right,’ Sukie said, ‘if you want to keep me in suspense. Tell me about the new job, then.’

‘It’s pretty much the same. No canvassing of course, thank God.’

‘What’re the girls like?’

‘All right I believe, so long’s you don’t let them come the old bag.’

‘You’ll fall for one of them. Bound to.’

‘Not me. Impairs efficiency on the job.’

‘Oh, of course. I forgot you were girl-proof.’ She smiled.

‘Tell you what,’ I said, ‘join the firm and work with me. It’d be fun. Why don’t you?’

‘No fear. I haven’t the nerve. You need a brass neck for that job. Besides, I’d never get any dems.’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Think you’ll sell any?’

‘I might. If I kill enough greenfly. Or moths.’

‘Is that what you have to do?’

‘It’s part of the set-up. That and the steel ball. I’ve got it all written down here.’

‘Then it’s another swizz?’

‘So Heliotrope says.’

‘Is he there too?’

‘Large as life. Onions and all.’

I told her about Heliotrope at the school. That lasted us through our second round of coffees, and then Sukie said: ‘Now. Your surprise.’

‘All right.’ Took the story out of my pocket and handed it to her.

‘But who wrote this?’ she asked.

‘I did.’

‘My dear, how marvellous!’ She was really excited. ‘Can I read it?’

‘Of course. I brought it for you.’

While she read it, I sat back and lit a fag. Outside a gale was blowing up from the sea. It shook the awning of the cafe and the iron sign with the green lantern painted on it swung to and fro with a creak, throwing a shadow across us where we sat. Sukie turned the last page of the MS and looked up at me.

‘Well?’ I said. I was surprised to find how much her opinion really mattered to me. My voice sounded quite strained when I spoke.

‘My dear, it’s awfully good.’

‘You really think so?’

‘Certainly. And you said you couldn’t write.’

‘Well, I hadn’t written anything for so long I didn’t think I could.’

‘But you’re going to now?’

‘I’m going to try.’

‘Good.’ Then she said: ‘What’re you going to do with this? Send it anywhere?’

‘No. I want to try my hand at some more first.’

‘Stories about India?’

‘Yes.’

‘Lovely.’

Then for some time she talked about books. Saroyan. Bates. Hemingway. All sorts of chaps I hadn’t heard of before, although I had read Farewell to Arms without knowing who it was by.

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