(Too) Many Happy Returns?

Josiah Oakshott peered at the piece of paper before him, which was inadequately illuminated by the weak light that managed to work its way through the stained-glass window behind him.  In all honesty, he realised that he should have given up the unequal struggle by now and switched on his desk lamp, but he was reluctant to admit defeat and accept that the days were shortening.

He was, therefore, somewhat startled when a cup of tea slid, noiselessly, into his line of sight.

“My goodness!” He said, jumping back a little, “You startled me, Archibald”

“Sorry, Mr. O., only I was tryin’ not to make a noise or owt, seein’ as ‘ow you were concentratin’ on summat”

“It’s very good of you to do this, Archibald, but you really do not have to make this one of your duties” Josiah picked up the cup and saucer and sipped, appreciatively.  “You do understand, I hope, that you have a certain seniority these days, not only by dint of your years of service but also because of your extraordinary assistance to myself and the Company as a whole?”

“Dint?” Archibald looked puzzled.

“Yes, ‘dint’, it’s rather an old word.  Goes back to Old English and Norse, I believe.  It originally related to a sword blow or somesuch” Josiah mused, selecting a biscuit from the plate before him. “There are not many opportunities to use it, but that sentence, I felt, called for it”

“Yeah, but…” Archibald slid into the chair, opposite, “what does it mean?”

“Well, in this instance, I suppose it means ‘by virtue of’”

Archibald still looked confused.

“Or, possibly, ‘because of’?” Josiah offered, in an attempt to clear up the confusion.

Archibald’s lips moved as he replayed the sentence in his head.

“Oh, right, gotcher!” He beamed.  “Not like ‘he did that, but I dint’ then?”

“No, not like that at all, Archibald”

“Any road, I don’t mind doin’ your tea and stuff, it’s like a…thingy”

“A thingy?”

“Yeah, a doodah” Archibald pulled at his jacket sleeves as he raided the recesses of his memory, “A…tradition, yeah, that’s the bunny!  It’s just what we do, innit?”

“It is indeed ‘just what we do’, Archibald” Josiah smiled warmly, “Please take a seat and tell me how things are in the wider world of ‘Oakshott and Underwood’”

Archibald frowned and looked around at the chair in which he was seated.

“I ‘ave taken a seat” He pointed out.

“Yes, so I noticed” Josiah raised an eyebrow in what he knew would be a pointless, and completely unnoticed, attempt at admonishment.  “How are things out there?”  He nodded in the general direction of the workshop and stores.

“Oh, right, yeah fine, ta” Archibald nodded, “’cept for that Mr. Strine”

“Mr. Strine?” Josiah sat up and looked concerned, “What ails Mr. Strine?”

“You w…pardon?” Archibald corrected himself, neatly.

“What seems to be the problem with Mr. Strine?”

“Oh, I dunno!”  Archibald shrugged, “’e’s just got the dead ‘ump with me”

“The dead…?”  Josiah frowned, “By that I take it you mean that Mr. Strine is displeased with you, in some regard?”

“Yeah, ‘e’s got the dead ‘ump, like I said”

“That is most unfortunate” Josiah looked concerned, “and not at all conducive to my plans” He mused, under his breath.  “Have you any idea why you and Mr. Strine appear to be at odds?”

“I’m not ‘at odds’!” Archibald said, in an offended manner, “It’s ‘im, innit?”

“Well, that’s as may be and I could not possibly comment without a full examination of all the evidence but, there must be some underlying cause.  Today is his birthday, you know?”

“Yeah, I know!” Archibald was clearly put out, “An’ I got ‘im a card and got all the lads to sign it an’ stuff”

“He is 70 today, you know?  It is quite remarkable that he is still keen to remain in regular, full-time employment, despite his advancing years”

“Yeah, you’d never know, would you?” Archibald looked thoughtful.

“Just a moment!  Did you say you had purchased a card for Mr. Strine?”

“Yeah, that’s right”

“What did it say?”

Archibald looked surprised.

“What did it say?  Well, ‘Happy Birthday Mr. Strine!’”

“No, I did not mean by that, what did you write in the card!” Josiah rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes briefly, “I was trying to ascertain what the card said on its cover”

“Oh, right, on the front you mean?”

“Indeed” Josiah sighed.

“Oh, well, it ‘ad this big lollopy dog on the front with a party ‘at on ‘is ‘ead, an ‘e’s lookin’ surprised, like”

“I see, and was there any phrase attached to this singular creature?”

“Come again?”  Archibald frowned.

“Did the card say anything on its cover, or was it solely this picture of a dog in a party hat?”

“Right, with you now” Archibald grinned, “Yeah, it said, ‘You’re How Old!!!’, ‘cause the dog looked sort-of shocked, if you get my drift?”

“Ah!” Josiah nodded, “And there, I think, we may find the nub and the gist of Mr. Strine’s displeasure with you”

“Eh?  Why?”

“It is a peculiarity of human psychology, Archibald, that people who are not, by any definition, old, like to pretend that their age is a closely guarded secret.  This tendency begins to show itself once one is in one’s late thirties and continues throughout the forties and fifties”

“Yeah, I know what you mean” Archibald nodded, “Me Mam doesn’t like talking about ‘ow old she is, she always reckons she’s twenty-one and a bit.  Must be quite a ‘bit’, that’s all I can say!”

“Indeed, you take my point” Josiah looked relieved, “I have a professional acquaintance who is particularly sensitive about his age.  His invariable response, should anyone enquire, is to say “Well, I won’t see 50 again”, which is a valid response, even though he wouldn’t see 50 again if he used the Hubble Telescope!”

Archibald looked at him, blankly.

“I’m not sure where we’re goin’ with this?”  He said, eventually.

“Well, the point I was attempting to make is that the card you kindly obtained for Mr. Strine is the sort that would be entirely appropriate for someone who is coy about their age but who is NOT ACTUALLY OLD.  Do you see what I mean?  Mr. Strine is 70.  He has reached the biblical ‘three score years and ten’ and is, by any definition, ‘old’ in the proper sense of the term, if not in any physical or mental classification”

“Three score…?”  Archibald looked confused.

“…years and ten, yes” Josaih nodded, “It’s from Psalms and refers to the supposed allotted span of a person’s life.  A score was a term for 20, you see, so three score would be…?”  Josiah looked expectantly at his employee, who appeared to be counting furiously on his fingers.

“Erm…sixty!”

“Correct!” Josiah beamed, “So, sixty and ten equals…”

“Ah, seventy” Archibald nodded.

“Indeed!”

“So, ‘e’s ‘ad ‘is lot then, ‘as ‘e, our Mr. Strine?”

“Well, no, I think he could reliably hope for a somewhat more extended lifespan than that but it does remain, in the human psyche, a significant point in one’s life.  As a consequence, and because it so strongly relates to one’s own mortality, he might consider it somewhat crass to draw attention to his age in the manner that you have, do you take my point?”  Josiah looked at Archibald, hopefully.

Archibald thought for a moment.

“Oh, right” He said, eventually, “’cause ‘e’s knockin’ on, I should ‘ave kept schtum about ‘ow old ‘e is?”

“I would not have put it in quite those terms but that does get to the heart of the matter, yes”

“Mind you, it can go the other way.  Me Nan’s always tellin’ everyone ‘I’m 92 yer know’” He did a creditable impression of a very old lady.

“Well, it deserves to be celebrated, it is quite an achievement” Josiah pointed out.

“Yeah, but she ain’t 92, she just likes people tellin’ ‘er she’s good for ‘er age” Archibald shook his head, “She were at school with Mr. Strine”

“She was” Josiah corrected.

“Oh, you knew that didjer?”  Archibald looked surprised.

“No, I was just…never mind” Josiah pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Anyway, it’s a bit of a bugger innit?” Archibald said, with some feeling, “You try an’ do the right thing and…”  His voice trailed off as he considered the injustice of it all

“Perhaps you could quietly apologise to him and suggest that you and some of the other ‘lads’ could take him out for a drink, after work?” Josiah suggested.

“Oh yeah,” Archibald brightened up, “we could take ‘im for a p…a few drinks, like you said”

“Well, I was not suggesting some form of Bacchanalian orgy, but I think a small celebration would be entirely justified”

“You coming then, Mr. O.?”  Archibald asked, slyly, as he collected Josiah’s tea things.

“Ah, thank you, Archibald, but I think not.  I have an engagement with…”  He hesitated for a moment, before continuing, “with my wife, later” He was still coming to terms with using that expression.

“Oh yeah, ‘ow is Mrs. O.?”

“Absolutely fine, thank you, Archibald.  She intends to return to the office soon, so you will be able to ask her yourself.  I have said that she could wait until  after we have…” He stopped in mid-sentence.

“Until after you’ve what?” Archibald asked.

“Ah, it is of no importance at this juncture.  I will return to the topic in due course, I’m sure” Josiah appeared flustered, so Archibald decided to take advantage.

“This erm, booze-up for Mr. Strine…”  He began.

“Yes?” Josiah responded, warily.

“If you’d ‘ave been comin’, I suppose you’d ‘ave bought the first round, style of thing?”

“I suppose that would have been the case, yes” Josiah agreed, reluctantly.

“But, as you’re not goin’…”  Archibald looked at him expectantly.

Josiah sighed and extracted a £20 note from his wallet.

“Erm, I don’t mean to be rude or nowt…” Archibald tugged at his sleeves, “only, that wouldn’t get me an’ Egbert a pint and packet of Pork Scratchin’s each.  Have you seen the price of a pint these days?”

“It is not a category I have studied in any depth” Josiah responded, miserably.  “I don’t suppose £50…” He offered without much hope

“I reckon a ton would probably cover it” Archibald grinned, pocketing the reluctantly proffered note.

“Wish Mr. Strine a Happy Birthday from me, please Archibald” Josiah asked as he returned to his work.

“I reckon he’ll get one, now” Archibald grinned as he made his way out of the office door.

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