Paving the New Road Read Online Free Page B

physical.
    “Wil …” Rowland started awkwardly.
    Wilfred didn’t bother with the niceties.
    “A word,” he said, as he strode into the library.
    Rowland braced himself and followed.
    The library at Woodlands had, to him, always been a place of censure. It was to this room that Henry Sinclair had summoned his son to vent his displeasure and impose his will. Wilfred too seemed to prefer the library for the purpose of bringing Rowland into line … however futile that purpose had now become.
    Decorated and furnished exactly as it had been when their father was the master of Woodlands , the library was an island of conservative, masculine style in a house that had, under Rowland’s reign, become somewhat artistically idiosyncratic. Perhaps that was why Wilfred felt most comfortable there.
    For a time Wilfred said nothing, pacing angrily about the room. And then, “What the devil do you think you’re doing, Rowly?”
    “Look, Wil, I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you first but Hardy—”
    Wilfred ignited before he could finish. “You are not to have any part of this insane plan of Hardy’s. Do you understand, Rowly? I forbid it!”
    “You what? I’m a grown man, Wil.”
    “Then act like one. Use your common sense, Rowly. This is not a game.”
    “I know that.” Rowland was beginning to flare himself.
    “Not so long ago, Charles Hardy accused you of treason, for God’s sake. Now you’re going to drop everything because he asks you to go to Germany? Don’t be such a bloody fool!”
    “I’m not doing this for Hardy,” Rowland said quietly.
    Wilfred stopped. He sighed, sitting down in the studded leather armchair.
    Rowland took the seat opposite and waited.
    Wilfred took off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief, regaining his composure. “Rowly, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”
    “I know,” Rowland replied, though he was glad to hear it from Wilfred. “You have a family Wil, and I can speak German.”
    “You want to work for Hardy?” Wilfred asked. “You’ve always claimed to find the Old Guard abhorrent.”
    “I have no interest in the Old Guard,” Rowland said. “Or in working for Hardy … And though I don’t mind working against Campbell and his fascist legions, I’m going only so you don’t have to.”
    Wilfred’s mouth twitched. He nearly laughed. “ You are trying to protect me ?”
    Rowland frowned. Wilfred made him feel like an idiot, a precocious child. “You have a family and I can speak German,” he repeated irritably.
    Wilfred met his eye. “Rowly, don’t you see that they’re exploiting you? You’re disposable. If you get into trouble over there they’ll disown you, deny that you ever had anything to do with them.”
    Rowland nodded. “Yes, that’s what Milt said.”
    Wilfred stiffened. “You told that bludging Bolshevik …”
    “He overheard … but yes, I told him as well. How else was I going to explain why I’m going to Germany a few days after Hardy visits out of the blue?”
    Wilfred exploded again. “You have no concept of how dangerous and sensitive this is, do you? Rowly, this is not some jaunt designed for the amusement of your unemployed Communist friends!”
    “That’s a pity—they’re coming with me.”
    “What?”
    Admittedly, explaining how exactly he came to invite his friends to accompany him to Europe was difficult. Wilfred was incredulous.
    “What possible use would they be? Aside from the fact that they’re flaming Reds, they can barely speak the King’s English let alone any other civilised language.”
    “Actually, Ed’s fluent in French, Milton speaks Yiddish and Clyde has picked up a bit of Italian.” The last claim was grossly exaggerated. Clyde had been seeing Rosalina Martinelli for a couple of weeks and now seemed able to apologise in Italian, but that was about it. “Anyway, they’re not coming as translators; they’re coming so I have more than your Old Guard to rely on.”
    Wilfred groaned. “I