“‘I hope that’s Eric.’ He gestured to her to check the window. ‘Please don’t mention this discussion to him. You will have gathered that I’m not always a true believer in the official party line.’ This was too deep for me. I felt sorry for Fred and sad for Malita. I’d agreed to help and he was treating me like a recruit who needed indoctrination. Now I was going to have to meet Eric, who was higher in the party than my uncle, and be very careful what I said. I’d also have to decide whether to re...veal what I knew about the diamonds. Before I did, I wanted to gauge their likely reaction. Eric didn’t fit my expectation of a scruffy Communist as he was dressed like a banker. Fred introduced him as “my comrade, from London”. After the usual tea routine, Eric studied the photographs from the United Club. He pointed to the tall patrician figure who was discussing something with Hurel. ‘That’s Sir Edward Fairfield, a pillar of the establishment.’ He laughed. ‘Cheating, conniving, fascist; definitely one for the little red book, Fred.’ Fred scrutinised his class enemy.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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