I’ve fixed it for you two to appear on television. I’ll pick you up here and take you over to the studio.”
“Television?” I said and I felt a little stab of uneasiness. “What do we want to be on television for?”
Creedy smiled patiently at me.
“We’re spending six million dollars of this city’s money,” he said. “The public are entitled to see the two guys who are spending their money. There’s nothing to it. I’ll ask the usual corny questions and you’ll give me the usual corny answers. We’ll have a scale model of the bridge prepared and you’ll explain how you’re going to build it.”
I was now beginning to get even more uneasy. My past was beginning to come alive in my mind. I told myself not to panic. After all, the television hook-up covered the county: we were a long way from Los Angeles.
“I’m trying to get Life to do an article about the bridge,” Creedy went on. “They’re biting. It would be a fine thing for the city to get a coverage from Life .”
My uneasiness sparked into panic. Coverage in Life was world wide. I would have to make sure there would be no photograph of me in the magazine.
Jack said happily, “Sounds as if we have become a couple of famous people, Jeff. It’s about time. We’ve worked hard enough.”
Creedy took out his notebook.
“You’re famous all right. Let’s have some dope about yourselves. I want to prepare the TV interview. Let’s get the basic facts: where you were born, who your parents were, what your training was, your war service, what you’ve done since the war, your future plans: that kind of junk.”
Jack gave him the information, and while I listened I began to sweat. I had to cover up on the time I had spent in Los Angeles.
When it came my turn, it was easy until I came to my return home from hospital.
Creedy said, “You began your studies again, and then you suddenly quit: is that right?”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to tell him any lies so I picked my way carefully. “I couldn’t settle to work. I left college after three months, and for a while I just kicked around.”
“Is that so.” He showed interest. “Where did you get to?”
“All over. I just loafed around and did nothing.”
He looked sharply at me.
“How did you earn a living?”
“I did a job here: a job there.”
Jack was now looking interested.
“You never told me,” he said. “I thought you had been in the engineering racket all the time.”
“For a year or so I bummed around.”
“This could make for colour,” Creedy said. “Where did you get to? What kind of jobs did you do?”
This was now dangerous. I had to kill it.
“I’d rather not go into that. Suppose we skip it if it’s all the same to you.”
Creedy stared at me, then shrugged.
“Sure. What are you going to do with the money you’ll make out of the bridge?”
I relaxed. That was an easy one.
“Buy a house I guess. I might even build one.”
Creedy closed his notebook.
“Well, I guess that’ll hold it for the moment. Don’t forget the banquet on Saturday.”
When he had gone, we got down to work again. There was so much to do, I didn’t have time to think about this unexpected publicity until I was driving home.
Then I began to worry.
I now began to think of Rima not as someone in the dim past, but someone who could come into my present and my future.
Suppose she spotted my photograph in the newspapers and recognised me? What would she do? It depended on the state she was in. Maybe by now she had had a cure and was living a decent, normal life. Maybe she was no longer alive. I told myself to quit worrying. She was in the past, and with any luck she would remain in the past.
Sarita had dinner waiting for me when I walked into our three-room apartment.
The sight of her waiting by a roaring fire, a shaker of dry Martinis on the table, and an atmosphere in the room that can only come from a woman who really cares for her man, quieted my uneasiness.
I held
“Television?” I said and I felt a little stab of uneasiness. “What do we want to be on television for?”
Creedy smiled patiently at me.
“We’re spending six million dollars of this city’s money,” he said. “The public are entitled to see the two guys who are spending their money. There’s nothing to it. I’ll ask the usual corny questions and you’ll give me the usual corny answers. We’ll have a scale model of the bridge prepared and you’ll explain how you’re going to build it.”
I was now beginning to get even more uneasy. My past was beginning to come alive in my mind. I told myself not to panic. After all, the television hook-up covered the county: we were a long way from Los Angeles.
“I’m trying to get Life to do an article about the bridge,” Creedy went on. “They’re biting. It would be a fine thing for the city to get a coverage from Life .”
My uneasiness sparked into panic. Coverage in Life was world wide. I would have to make sure there would be no photograph of me in the magazine.
Jack said happily, “Sounds as if we have become a couple of famous people, Jeff. It’s about time. We’ve worked hard enough.”
Creedy took out his notebook.
“You’re famous all right. Let’s have some dope about yourselves. I want to prepare the TV interview. Let’s get the basic facts: where you were born, who your parents were, what your training was, your war service, what you’ve done since the war, your future plans: that kind of junk.”
Jack gave him the information, and while I listened I began to sweat. I had to cover up on the time I had spent in Los Angeles.
When it came my turn, it was easy until I came to my return home from hospital.
Creedy said, “You began your studies again, and then you suddenly quit: is that right?”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to tell him any lies so I picked my way carefully. “I couldn’t settle to work. I left college after three months, and for a while I just kicked around.”
“Is that so.” He showed interest. “Where did you get to?”
“All over. I just loafed around and did nothing.”
He looked sharply at me.
“How did you earn a living?”
“I did a job here: a job there.”
Jack was now looking interested.
“You never told me,” he said. “I thought you had been in the engineering racket all the time.”
“For a year or so I bummed around.”
“This could make for colour,” Creedy said. “Where did you get to? What kind of jobs did you do?”
This was now dangerous. I had to kill it.
“I’d rather not go into that. Suppose we skip it if it’s all the same to you.”
Creedy stared at me, then shrugged.
“Sure. What are you going to do with the money you’ll make out of the bridge?”
I relaxed. That was an easy one.
“Buy a house I guess. I might even build one.”
Creedy closed his notebook.
“Well, I guess that’ll hold it for the moment. Don’t forget the banquet on Saturday.”
When he had gone, we got down to work again. There was so much to do, I didn’t have time to think about this unexpected publicity until I was driving home.
Then I began to worry.
I now began to think of Rima not as someone in the dim past, but someone who could come into my present and my future.
Suppose she spotted my photograph in the newspapers and recognised me? What would she do? It depended on the state she was in. Maybe by now she had had a cure and was living a decent, normal life. Maybe she was no longer alive. I told myself to quit worrying. She was in the past, and with any luck she would remain in the past.
Sarita had dinner waiting for me when I walked into our three-room apartment.
The sight of her waiting by a roaring fire, a shaker of dry Martinis on the table, and an atmosphere in the room that can only come from a woman who really cares for her man, quieted my uneasiness.
I held
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