A Cheat and a Liar, page 54
One evening, a week or so later, he said to Ruth, ‘My dear, as we are both on holiday, I would like to go to Olympia and do a little Christmas shopping. I thought I would leave next Thursday quite early and drive down, look around the city, do a little shopping, stay the night, and return home early afternoon the next day.’ Before Ruth had any time to even express her thoughts, he added, ‘I can guarantee you a safe trip and a proper one too. I will book two separate rooms, and I will respect your privacy, and our proper relationship, to ensure the adventure is equally enjoyable to us both. We will shop, sometimes together and sometimes alone, but always with a prearranged meeting place and time suitable to each of us and then return to our lodgings and dress for our formal dinner together before retiring to our own rooms. Then next morning, we can meet for breakfast prior to our drive home.’
‘Oh, George,’ she nearly giggled. ‘It sounds so bad and secretive, and two months ago, I would never have agreed, but I trust you now and think it could be quite an exciting little adventure. What are you thinking of purchasing whilst we are away, George?’ she asked.
‘I have no idea,’ he replied. ‘On the journey down there, I was going to question you as to what you might like or even need, so I could decide what to get you for Christmas.’
‘Oh, you are such a lovely man, George’ was all she could say.
‘I might buy you a hat or a pair of shoes,’ he said.
‘And, George, you are so different; I don’t believe my father would have even thought of buying Mother either of those items,’ she added.
So it was agreed and arranged. George booked two rooms in a very nice hotel, the White House Hotel on Fourth Avenue. All that remained was to think what and for whom they needed to buy gifts.
Ruth had arranged for her parents to travel to Bucoda for New Year, and whilst she had only briefly spoken to George about it, he had suggested they swap houses; Ruth to stay in the big house with her mother and father, and George would move all his clothing to the cottage until they had returned to their home.
Ruth wasn’t sure her parents would approve but did tell George that his offer was very generous and solved finding a nice place for her parents to stay. They talked about it at their usual Friday evening supper at George’s place a few days later. They talked and laughed. He showed her where her parents could sleep, the spare room where she could hang all her clothes, and the bed where nobody had ever slept before.
Then they returned to the kitchen, where Ruth insisted they wash the dishes before she went home. So she washed, and he dried, and soon everything was back in its rightful place, and five, six, seven minutes later, and a few kisses on the couch, and Ruth requested George fetch her warm coat and drive her back to the cottage. George saw her safely inside, and then two minutes of more kissing, and she dismissed him to the night. ‘I would like to wash some clothes tomorrow,’ she told him, ‘and I want to clean the cottage properly; what say you stay away until about four o’clock. We will talk and then eat supper at about six o’clock.’
George stood to attention, saluted, and said, ‘Your wish is my command, ye who must be obeyed.’ They both laughed and then embraced, and George was gone.
And so as Thursday arrived, George, with his trunk packed with warm clothes and a car with a tank full of gasoline, arrived at the cottage. Ruth heard the car and was at the door to meet him. ‘Damn cold out there,’ he declared as he stepped inside.
She shut the door and said, ‘Oh, you are just saying that so I will come and put my arms around you to warm you up.’
‘Come on, then, put your arms around me, and I will tell you if I feel warmer.’
They hugged for about twenty seconds, and then she asked, ‘Are you getting warm?’
‘Yes, a little bit,’ he replied, ‘but hug me again, a bit longer this time.’
Ruth obliged but then said, ‘That will do you, My arms are getting tired.’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I was going to tell you to stop. I was starting to get quite sweaty.’
‘Oh, go on!’ she said. ‘You are not, and, anyway, I heard you swear when you arrived. You were complaining about the cold. I have never heard a part-time man of the cloth swear before, George.’
‘That’s why people call me part-time, because I only preach part-time, and I only swear part-time.’ They both laughed out loud.
‘Right, woman, are we ready to go?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I just need to close my case, and we can be on our way.’ A couple of stops; one to simply stretch their legs and admire the beautiful scenery; it had been a cold night, and frost, it seemed, had tinted the dark-green leaves of the trees with a frosting of white. ‘It looks like a painted picture, with the clear blue sky as a backdrop to the dark, dark green, almost black of the forest hills in the distance.’ The second stop was at a little town of few stores and no name, where they found a lady selling hot drinks and freshly made hot cookies. It was just what they needed to break the journey and warm them both up. Then back on the road, and before too long, they were on the outskirts of Olympia.
‘Do you know where to go, George?’ Ruth asked.
‘Know where to go? Hell, woman, I know this area like the back of my hand.’
‘There you go, swearing again, George. Twice in a morning. I think you have got a problem.’
‘Don’t worry, my love. It’s the company I keep. Wild women have always brought the worst out of me.’ They both laughed.
‘Calling me a wild woman. Gosh, George, if I am wild, you must have had some pretty dull ones,’ and they both laughed again.
‘One thing I must say about you, George—I have never laughed so much as I have since I met you.’
Soon, they were outside their destination, the White House Hotel on Fourth Avenue. As they got out of their car and took their luggage towards the door, Ruth asked, ‘Have you been here before?’
‘Here to this hotel? No, never. I came to Olympia a long, long time ago. I came on the train, I remember. I had never been to Olympia, so I came down by myself on the train. Wasn’t a very exciting trip, but I thought the town was nice. I remember just taking two or three trips on streetcars just to see what the city was like. I enjoyed it but never planned on moving here. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh,’ Ruth replied, ‘you just seemed to know where to come and where everything is.’
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘I supposed when I saw a few landmarks, I remembered this is Fourth Avenue, but don’t ask me to show you around.’
The porter at the door greeted them and immediately took both cases, as another man opened the door and ushered them in towards the reception area. George stepped forward and gave his name and said he had two rooms booked for one night. The lady took his details, he signed the register, asked how long the dining room was open that night; was shown the menu, asked what time lunch in the dining room finished, thanked the reception lady, and was then given keys, escorted to the lift, and directed to their adjacent rooms.
Ruth was quite excited at the luxury of the place, although she did confess to George that she had never stayed at a big-city hotel before. George in his mind could quite easily recall a far more luxurious setting where he had once stayed, and played, in a past life; but this was fine; this was a good second or maybe third on his list, and his lady companion was happy, and that was really all he had hoped for.
‘Right,’ he finally said. ‘What say I go to my room, freshen up, and meet you back here in, say, twenty minutes; we can either eat here or walk downtown—whichever you prefer, and have lunch together somewhere nice, and we can then plan the rest of our day before coming back here for dinner.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ Ruth replied. ‘You lead the way, George, and I will follow.’
They did eat downtown. George walked with his typical confident swagger on the outside of the sidewalk, his right hand in his pocket, with Ruth’s left hand tucked under his left elbow, so as to be clear to the world that he belonged to her, although to those passing it looked more as if she belonged to him. Then George stopped. ‘You have said that you would try and buy Christmas gifts for your mother and father whilst we are here, and I have a young lady that I think I would like to buy a present for also, so what say we walk to the next intersection and note clearly where we are, and I will go in one direction, and you go in the other, and I will meet you at the same place, say, in one hour; what do you think about that?’ Ruth was, at first a little hesitant, but once they reached the said intersection, they both wrote down names of large stores visible from where they stood.
George squeezed Ruth’s hand, bent over, and kissed her on the cheek, and both agreed they would try and be back at the same place in one hour. Ruth turned the corner, and George crossed the road. George walked a short distance and then stopped. A well-dressed gentleman approached. George tipped the brim of his hat and said, ‘Excuse me, sir, can you please tell the direction I should head to Fifth Avenue?’
‘Oh, yes, sir, just head . . .,’ and pointing his arm and explaining what to look out for, George clearly knew where he had to go. George thanked him, tipped his hat again, and started walking. He remembered the last time he was here.
There it was, the National Bank on the corner of Fifth and Capital Way. He crossed the street. There was quite some urgency in his walk now. It was still there; right next door to the National Bank, Talcott Jewellers. He went inside, and as he approached the counter, he felt inside his jacket to the inner pocket on the left-hand side. As he did so, he could feel his strong and fast-beating heart. Hell, man. Slow down. He imagined his heart could hear him.
Then a female voice said, ‘Sir, can I help?’
‘Thank you,’ George replied, trying to sound quite calm. ‘Some years ago, I was here and purchased an engagement ring for my wife-to be.’
‘Oh, lovely,’ said the young lady, ‘and you now want to purchase, say, another for her; say, like an eternity ring? Sure, we—’
‘Wait,’ said George, feeling his heart had just taken hold of the reins and bolted again. ‘Since that very happy time, I later married, but after a very happy marriage, she died.’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ the lady said, ‘so how can I help you today?’
George, for probably the only time in his life, felt embarrassed. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I have now met another and wish to surprise her with a proposal tonight and would like to select another different ring today for another different lady. The ring I gave my first wife was a ring with five medium-sized diamonds.’
‘Oh, lovely, so are you thinking of something similar?’
‘No, definitely not,’ he replied.’ ‘Perhaps a cluster, perhaps a solitaire, what do you have?’ With that, George was conducted to a private cubicle, closed with a velvet drape, with a table and three chairs.
Then the lady returned, and as she went to sit down opposite him, George presented from his pocket some tissue, which he unwrapped to reveal the ring he had purchased previously. With the ring was another piece of paper, on which appeared to have written on it the letter O.
The lady looked at the ring and then looked up at George. There was silence for a few seconds, and then he said, ‘I understand Talcott does purchase second-hand jewellery. If I purchase a ring from you today, would you have somebody inspect the ring I have brought with me who can verify it was purchased here and allow me a credit if I purchase another ring from you now?’
The lady was hesitant and then said, ‘Yes, sir, we don’t buy a lot of second-hand jewellery, and those rings we do purchase are all dismantled. The stones would be used again but in different settings, and the gold would only be used as and when we require; but the answer to your question is that if it is a ring purchased from us previously, we will quote you a discount on your new purchase to the value of what you have brought in today. Let us first look at what we have that you may like.’
The two trays of diamond rings were uncovered, and George was immediately attracted to solitaires. ‘So,’ he said, ‘there are subtle differences in all I see here. Can you please tell me a few prices for some?’ Different prices were shown to him. Then he looked at clusters of diamonds and again was informed of prices, and finally three-diamond rings were revealed.
Then the lady glanced at the small piece of paper that accompanied the five-diamond ring George had taken from his pocket. ‘Excuse me,’ she asked. ‘Out of interest, why did you write O on this piece of paper?’
George smiled. ‘That’s not what it looks like. My fiancée-to-be was at my home for dinner, and before she helped prepare the meal, she took a dress ring that she frequently wears and placed it on a shelf. When she briefly left the room, I quickly traced the inside of the ring onto that piece of paper. She wears it on her right hand, but later in the evening, as she was putting it back on her hand, I asked her on how many fingers could the ring be worn. “Only two,” she replied. “The fourth finger of each hand.” With that, she showed me, so I have kept that piece of paper with me ever since.’
Then George said, ‘Because I live upstate and am only visiting today for this very reason, do you have that ring there’—pointing to a particular one—‘of a size that would fit my lady?’
‘Have you a second choice, just in case?’ she asked. George pointed, and with that, the attendant picked up all the trays, plus the ring George had brought with him, and the piece of paper and said, ‘I will be back.’
George looked at his watch. He had twenty minutes to meet Ruth.
Then the attendant returned. It seemed the gods were looking after him. She had been told that they would accept the ring George had brought; they did have the size in both the rings selected, and there was a forty-five-dollar difference between his first and second choices. He selected the ring he liked best and asked the attendant to please wrap it nicely for him; he would go next door to the National Bank and return to pay for it on his return.
The deed was done, George returned from the bank, received a certificate from the jewellers, paid the money, and returned to the prearranged meeting place almost on time. Ruth was there. ‘Good timing,’ she said and reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
‘I wanted to be the first one back,’ he replied. ‘I hope you were not here very long.’
‘About three minutes,’ she said and, with a smile, added, ‘and at the four-minute mark, I was going to walk away with the first nice man that asked me.’
‘Were you just,’ he said. ‘It would have been your loss.’
They casually walked back the way they had come and finally reached the hotel. ‘After we have been up to our rooms, I will come and get you. What say we have a drink together, and you can talk about what you have purchased, and then we can go and get ready for supper.’
It didn’t seem many minutes later that Ruth and George were walking into the spacious lounge, where clusters of bulky but beautiful, cosy yet comfortable, lavish lounge chairs were spread around the entire room, accommodating both the wealthy and the ‘would-be’s.’ George was probably someone between both categories; in a crowd, he imitated the ‘haves’, while in the pulpit, he held himself as ‘humble.’ Ruth, however, was always Ruth; she could converse with the ‘haves’ just as honestly as she could love the lowly. She and George, somehow, could meet at whatever level the other was at. Tonight, George was feeling on a high, and Ruth could somehow sense that the evening was going to be special.
‘Oh, George,’ she said as he led her to one of two unoccupied chairs, ‘I don’t know why, but I think this is one of the most enjoyable weekends I have spent in a very long time—maybe ever—and I have only been shopping.’
‘I feel the same, and the feeling has only got stronger as the day has rolled on,’ he replied, oozing charm in a way he had not done for many years. ‘I think it is you that is making me feel good.’
With that, a waiter arrived beside them, bowed, and said, ‘Sir, may I get you and the young lady a pre-dinner wine, courtesy of the house for our guests this evening?’ With that, he passed a wine list to George and said, ‘Ah, and I’ll be right back, sir.’
‘Oh, ar, wonderful. Thank you. Yes, that will be absolutely fine,’ George replied, bouncing slightly from buttock to buttock as the excitement mounted and calling on his most un-American, pro-aristocratic English voice he could find.
‘Oh, George, that reply hardly sounded like the George I drove here with; more like King George V of England, I thought. Where was that slightly Australian accent I have got used to?’ They both laughed.
‘Wonderful service here,’ George started.
‘There you go again. Oh, I am starting to feel like a princess,’ she said, and they both laughed.
‘The wine list, what would you like, my dear?’ he asked.
‘Oh, just something non-alcoholic, as usual. You choose something grapey and sweet.’
‘You know, I am away with the loveliest lady I know. I might just get myself a lovely sweet wine, and I don’t mind at all if it is a touch alcoholic.’
‘Oh, George, do you think you should? What would those parishioners say, George?’
‘They will never know, and I will not tell them. If it adds a touch of excitement to a fabulous evening and makes me feel warm and relaxed, why not?’ She looked at him. ‘What say I choose the same for you?’ he added.
‘I may not like it,’ she replied.
‘Then I will have to drink yours too.’ He smiled.
‘Go on, then. I trust you, George,’ she said as the waiter returned.
George turned and said, ‘We will have two glasses of the premium sherry.’
The waiter returned, put the little placemats on the table in front of each of them, and placed first Ruth’s glass on the mat and then George’s. The waiter stepped back. ‘Thank you,’ said George, and the waiter departed. The two of them chatted, and then George said, ‘If the evening is still young, by the time we finish our meal, then we might come back here and talk for a while; we haven’t ever had the opportunity to be out in the public eye, socialising as we want; what do you think, my love?’
