A Cheat and a Liar, page 28
‘Well, my father was a builder, and I worked with him until he became unwell and could work no longer. We were mainly building new houses or repairing and extending older ones.
‘We did have two or three jobs building shop premises and fit-outs for retailers moving in, and at one stage we were helping a fairly large gang of men erecting a grandstand even, and then after my father died, I felt I had not seen much of the world, so I decided to see something of the greater world and eventually ended up in Canada. I moved around, worked in Vancouver, and more recently worked in Kamloops, initially to demolish the old Chinatown. When that was almost at an end, I moved south to Washington; Tacoma more specifically, building at the port. While I was in Tacoma, I heard this place spoken of on several occasions, and when I heard that you had a successful mill here, and lumber was pretty plentiful, my mind went back to my roots. I wondered, Do they need houses? Is anyone building houses? Why don’t I go and look? So, sir, here I am.’
Just then, the two ladies returned to the room with two trays with cups, coffee, and a teapot and cookies. Tea was poured, cookies offered around, and the ladies left.
‘How did you know to ask me?’ the older man enquired.
‘I got off the train. Had no idea how much accommodation was available in this town, so when I saw there was a pub, I thought, it is for one night only, why not stay there, and someone I talked to told me you were the mill owner, and the next day, I would be sure to find you at church. I am sorry we had to meet on a Sunday.’
They both laughed and then Mr Nichols said, ‘You might have found it hard for me to sit down and talk to you had it been any other day than Sunday. Do you drink, George?’
That question took George a little by surprise. ‘I never used to. My parents, as it happens, were churchgoing people; Methodists, too, coincidently, and we had no alcohol in our home when I was growing up. However, working with a bunch or hard-working men in Canada, and especially when we were somewhere like Kamloops and staying in pubs for weeks on end, I must say I did socialise with the men and was known to have a glass sometimes at the end of the day. If I was told by, say, a doctor to not drink ever again, I would not miss it; it is a social activity that I could stop.’
Mr Nichols said nothing at first and then, ‘George, that was a very long answer to a very short question, but thank you. I understand exactly what you said, and any man’s like or dislike of anything will never prevent me employing him unless it in any way prevents him from carrying out what he has been asked to do or endangers anyone on my work site. My advice to you, George, is to go back to Tacoma, decide what you would like to do, and if you choose to stay where you are, that is fine. If you are absolutely sure you would like to come to Bucoda, I will be happy to employ you.’
With that, Mrs Nichols came back into the room, and her husband said, ‘George, you met my wife at our door. She is Helen, and I am Edward. If you return, please call us by our Christian names.’
George stood up. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said. ‘It has been nice talking to you. I have one other question. If a man comes to town, are there houses available to rent?’
‘Generally, no, but I have a small cabin that might solve the problem, short term. Instead of rent, I might think about letting you live there in return for you tidying it up.’
‘Oh, Edward,’ said Helen. ‘He wouldn’t want to live there, and you should not ask him to.’
George smiled. ‘Mrs Nichols, as long as it has a roof to keep the rain out, a bed to sleep in, and water to wash with, what more should a man expect at little cost?’
As she left the room, Edward said, ‘You decide what you want to do, George. If you decide to come, you may need to stay at the hotel for a few days, and you and a couple of my men at the mill can have a few days to work on the shack to make it good enough to live in. It should have been tidied up before, but I simply have not gotten around to even thinking about it.’
The two men shook hands again. George thanked him for making time on a Sunday to talk, and then they both walked towards the front door and said goodbye, and George left.
George returned to Tacoma and was back at the port and started work at 7.30 a.m. He listened to the men around him, mainly at their mid-morning break, talk about where they had been and what they had done over the weekend break, but he decided he would say nothing about where he had been. George had a pattern in the way he had done things over the last twelve months, and he was not about to change. If, and it was a big if, he decided in the coming weeks to leave Tacoma, he would simply leave. As it was only one day since he had spoken to Edward Nichols, he had not put any plans in concrete. He probably would tell Sam, his immediate boss on site, but none of his workmates. He would tell Sam there was a reason it should be kept between themselves, and when others went to work the following day, he would not be there.
That night, however, George sat down and wrote a letter to Edward Nichols. He did not intend to post it for a few days, so he could add to or amend what he had said. He, first, apologised that he had been longer in coming to a decision than perhaps it should have been, but as the days had passed, he had decided to write and ask if a position at the mill was still available. He then wrote, ‘Into the future, I would like to set myself up once again as a local builder in the town, even procuring a suitable site to build a home for myself, as an example to others requiring the services of a builder, of the workmanship and finish I am accustomed to putting into each and every project I undertake.’ He then concluded with his usual smooth-talking pleasantries, saying he ‘totally understood if another man had been offered the position’ and that if his services were not now required, ‘it was totally understandable’. He then signed off, saying, ‘I eagerly await your reply.’
A week later, it was 7 July 1914. On his way to work, the letter was posted, and the clock in George’s head was ticking. The address to which he had directed the reply was his present place of residence, and he intended to inform his landlady on his return home that evening that he was expecting a letter, and would she please pass it on to him when it arrived.
George continued his daily work routine, and then, exactly one week after writing, Hilda, George’s landlady, handed him a letter shortly after he arrived home. ‘Thank you, Hilda,’ he said. ‘I was not expecting this to arrive for another few days, but it shows how efficient the postal service is in Washington.’ Hilda just smiled and asked him how his day had been before she went back into her house.
George sat on the bed and opened the envelope and read,
Dear George,
Good to hear from you again, my friend. I wasn’t worried about the length of time it may be taking you to decide whether you should come south to Bucoda. Any move that anyone may choose to make to another town requires much thought and consideration. I am still happy to employ a man such as yourself who is experienced in timber and building matters. If you wish to move, I am happy to engage you in the workings of my mill, and at some future time, should you decide to renew your association with the building trade in your own name, then I would support you with trade requirements and supplies on our normal trading terms.
Regarding accommodation for you initially, I consider you may need unfortunately to accommodate yourself in the local hotel. I will discuss my somewhat neglected little cottage with you and how best to ready it to a reasonable state for your own occupation sometime after your arrival.
Kindly advise an anticipated arrival date, and I look forward to seeing you again.
Kind regards,
Edward N.
George read the letter again. Perfect, he told himself. He now had to think how he would tell his boss and his landlady and allow sufficient notice to each so the move would go smoothly but not so long as to delay his departure. George had gotten himself an assignment, but, first, he must tidy himself and make his way somewhere to find an evening meal. He was excited.
After eating, George got back home to think and possibly draft the two letters that must be written. He took his writing pad off the little dresser that sat just outside his bedroom door and the pencil that always lay beside it.
He started to write, and after a few ‘no, that is not what I want to say’ episodes, he eventually wrote what he wanted to say:
Dear Edward.
Thank you sincerely for your speedy reply to my letter and your assurance that you would engage my services within you mill. Thank you, too, that you understand my desire to re-enter the building trade and, God willing, establish myself as a builder in the town as and when demand requires.
I intend to finish my employ here in Tacoma on Friday, 31 July, and travel to Bucoda the following day and arrange my accommodation on arrival. I shall attend church on the Sunday and, if it meets your satisfaction, start work at your mill on Monday morning, the third day of August.
I thank you sincerely for this opportunity.
Kind regards,
George D Morris.
Then there was the letter of resignation to the Port of Tacoma. He would write it now and hand-deliver it on Monday before he started work. He thought and after a while wrote:
To Whom It May Concern,
It is with regret that I offer this letter of resignation. I am indebted, first, to the company for their willingness to engage me and to Sam and my fellow workers, who were so kind, helpful, and a pleasure to know and work alongside. If suitable to the Port Authority, my last day at work will be Friday, 31 July.
It is with some trepidation that I feel the need to return as soon as I can to my mother country, England, to serve in their time of need.
Thank you all for the opportunity you have afforded me.
Regards,
George Douglas
He thought about all he had written. It wasn’t true, he said to himself, but they don’t know that. George tended to think that it didn’t matter when he told people misinformation about his past or where he was from as long as it wasn’t going to deceive them to a point where they might lose money or act in any way that might hurt some other individual.
Right, said George to himself. While I have everything fresh in my mind, I will go and tell Hilda that I will be leaving also. It was almost 8.00 p.m., and he hoped Hilda would not have gone to bed. He had decided not to write her anything formal, but if it was required, he could always scribble something on paper for her. He walked to her door and knocked. He waited, and then the door opened.
‘Hi, George,’ she said, ‘come in.’
‘No, no, oh, OK, just for a moment. I am sorry to call on you so late,’ he said as he walked inside.
‘Nice to see you, nice surprise,’ she said. ‘Would you like a drink? I’m just having a sherry. Here, I will pour you one. Oh, we should do this more often. I hardly have anyone to drink with.’ She went to the sideboard, poured a large glassful, and returned to the table. ‘Sit down, sit down, George. Now, how can I help? Or was it really a social visit?’
‘I really should have come across to see you more often or invited you across to the Hotel George—sorry, Hotel St. George for a drink,’ he replied, and they both laughed. He asked her how she had been, and she asked how he was enjoying Tacoma, and there was general conversation between them both, and then George said, ‘Hilda, the reason I am here is to tell you I am leaving and fix you up with the extra money I will owe you through to the end of the month.’
‘Oh, George, that is so sad. Is there a problem with your room or anything you are not happy with? I can tell you honestly, you have been the best tenant I have had for a long while. I had a young man in there at one stage, but he would invite his friends around, and they would drink and kick up one heck of a noise; I couldn’t sleep. In the end, I had to ask him to leave, and he still owes me money.’
George waited for her to compose herself and then said, ‘Hilda, you are a great landlady, but something has come up, and I must return to Vancouver.’
‘Oh, George, I understand. You don’t need to explain. When do you think you will be moving?’
There was a brief quiet, and then George said, ‘I am paid up to the twenty-fourth, as you remember, and I will pay you now for one further week, through to 31 July. I will probably leave a day or two prior to that, but if I pay you for a week, I will know you are not out of pocket.’
‘Oh, you are a considerate man, good looking and all. How come you haven’t got a lovely wife holding your arm, George?’
He had almost finished his drink, and he did not want this conversation rumbling on any longer. ‘Oh, you would not want to know, Hilda. Now, if I can just pay you that rent, I must be on my way.’ As he reached into his pocket for his money, he stood up and then passed the cash to Hilda and, with the other hand, took his glass and drank the last of the sherry. George walked to the door, and as he walked, he said, ‘We’ll see, if I have time, we might have another drink together before I go.’
‘George, wait. Come here. Put your arms around me and give me a squeeze. It’s been a long time since I have had male company, and it has been so nice talking to you.’ George obliged with the squeeze and then quickly let her go and opened the door. ‘That was lovely. Oh, I am so sorry you are leaving. Thank you for coming over,’ she said. With that, George briskly walked the ten paces to his room.
Just as well you are leaving, old fella, he said to himself. He locked his door and returned to re-read the two letters he had written earlier.
A little later, he washed and went to bed. Tomorrow was Thursday. He would find somewhere to post his reply to Edward Nichols and find out who should be the recipient of his letter to the port, and then he would wait until Saturday to book a seat on the train to Bucoda on Saturday, 31 July.
Everything happened that George hoped would happen. He posted his letter to Bucoda, and after asking Sam, without actually revealing it was a letter of resignation, he decided to explain and let Sam read the letter himself as his immediate manager. The two of them sat down in the office while Sam opened the envelope. ‘Oh, Jesus, man’ was all he could say, as he stared at the letter. ‘Why would you volunteer to go and fight those bastards when you could stay here where nobody could find you?’
‘If everyone in England thought like that,’ said George, ‘then those bastards, as you call them, could run over the whole of Europe, and before we knew it, they would be feeling so great, they would then be trying to take on Canada and perhaps America. I have always thought, if there has to be a war, then it is best to fight it in enemy territory, not have them come to you to fight. The damage and innocent people being killed—let’s make sure it stays inside their doorstep.’
‘You’ve definitely thought it through, George. I admire you. We are going to miss you and your strong work ethic. Look after yourself, and I hope to meet up with you again one day.’
‘Thank you very much, Sam,’ said George. ‘Thank you for giving me work, and thank you for your understanding.’ With that, George stood up, and the two men shook hands. ‘I’m not going yet. I hope I can work through until Friday week, the end of the month.’
‘Of course, of course, that’s fine,’ the other replied.
George turned to leave and then said, ‘Oh, just one small thing, Sam. As you know, you kitted me out with tools and stuff when I arrived, and I have been drip-feeding the cost little by little each week out of my pay. I wondered if you could tally up how much I still owe you, and I would ask you to take it from my last two pays. If that doesn’t cover it, I have sufficient to pay you anything more.’
‘That sounds fine,’ Sam replied. ‘You might think, if I am going to fight a war, why do I need carpenter’s tools. Well, Sam, I always try and think on the positive side of everything. Once we have won the war, there will be plenty of cleaning up and rebuilding to do, I guess, and where does a carpenter start if he has no tools?’
‘Great thinking, George. You are a smart and interesting man. I’ll tally up something and talk to the boss. We will work something out for you. I’ll let you know, but sure you can take your tools and stuff.’
‘That’s great, Sam,’ he replied. ‘I will just wait to hear from you.’ George wandered off and caught up with his fellow workers.
One of the young guys asked, ‘Late on the job, eh, Georgie? Did you party up last night, eh?’
‘Oh, no,’ he replied. ‘Just got called into the headmaster’s office and told to keep an eye on you young fellas and kick your arses if you left all the hard stuff to us old dudes.’ They all laughed, and everyone got down to work again.
The days came and went. George had booked his travel out of town. He was booked to head south, of course, not north as Sam had been told. It had been agreed that George could take everything he had been supplied with, and deductions for the last two weeks would be made. George calculated that by the time he left, he would in fact still owe the company some money, but Sam had assured him that in the circumstances, ‘we will just write off the rest’. On the Friday that George was due to leave, Sam turned up about the time the guys were about to have their mid-morning break. Once everyone had stopped work and were pretty much together, he raised his voice and asked everyone to gather around. Sam then said, ‘I wanted to come and tell you all that one of us in this group is leaving today. Now, that in itself is nothing new; we have guys come and go all the time, as you all know. However, this time, I think it is for a very different reason. George here is the one leaving, and the reason he is going is that he is travelling back to his home in England so he can enlist and go to Europe to fight those bloody Germans.’ There were gasps amongst some and swearing of the mildest and the extreme from many, and then everyone applauded and clapped, and those nearest reached across and patted him on the back.
When it all settled down again, George said a few words. It wasn’t a speech. He repeated what he had told Sam about fighting the enemy on their patch. He told the young guys to stand up and fight for their country if America was ever to enter a war. ‘We’ll beat the bastards,’ he said. ‘Just you wait and see.’ There was more applause and back-slapping, and then Sam told everybody to take another five minutes and then get back to work. Later, the day came to a close. George gathered up his tools and then went to the office, received his final pay packet, said his last farewells, and left. He arrived back at his accommodation, got cleaned up with tidy fresh clothes, and had decided to go and eat at one of his regular eating places. He would then return home to pack his clothes and tidy up his room. Everything went according to plan, and he had decided to use a taxi to take him home after he had eaten that night so he could ask the driver to book a car that could pick him up again at about 9.45 a.m. the next day to take him to the station to catch the train to Bucoda that was due in at 10.30 a.m.
