Alexander (4)

4

 

At five o’clock on Monday morning, after a second night sleeping beneath the viaduct, Alexander made his way to the pick-up point and waited with the others for gang-master Terry. At five thirty sharp an old white Transit van came into view. The men gathered around.

 

Alexander was surprised to be picked first. He and the rough looking Luther were chosen for a new job in the countryside. ‘I need men I can trust’ Terry said loudly. ‘Luther’s been working for me a long time and this lad is keen but needs to be broken in gently.’ The other men looked on as Alexander and Luther climbed into the back of the van. Alexander could see the resentment in their eyes. He felt guilty about securing work so quickly, and especially because Terry had said it was a new, prestigious job. Luther shut the rear doors. If his new work colleague felt any guilt, he didn't show it.

 

Luther was the kind who kept himself to himself. Alexander made an attempt at an introduction, even though he knew Luther’s name, and offered the older man his hand, but it was met with an irritable snarl. Alexander speculated about Luther's past. Where did he come from ? What had he done in his life ? It was Luther's eyes that betrayed him - suspicious eyes, filled with anger and heartache. They seemed to say: A man is what he is. How he arrived at his destination isn't of any consequence to anyone but himself.

 

For most of the journey they sat in silence. At one point Luther pressed his face against the battered rear door, peering at the road through an opening in the loose, flimsy door seal. It was odd behavior and Alexander wondered if he did it out of boredom or for some other reason. What’s more, Alexander had felt a tension between Terry and Luther; yet Terry seemed obliged to pass over the other men in order to give Luther work. Why ?

 

After an hour or so the transit slowed and made a sharp left turn, followed by a sharp right, and came to a sudden halt. Terry opened the rear doors; Luther and Alexander clambered out. They were standing among tall trees in what seemed to be a vast forest.

 

‘This way’ said Terry. He began walking along a trackway that cut through the trees, towards a clearing. 

 

As the three men walked - Alexander close to Terry, Luther trailing a few paces behind - a house came into view. It was a large red-bricked country house, a distinguished looking building with two upper floors. Alexander saw a turret with a conical roof and a white stone porch with columns either side. And when the trees finally gave way to an unkept garden Alexander could barely believe what he was seeing. He’d read about such places in Hardy and Dickens - magnificent houses set in rambling countryside that would forever be part of the England of his imagination.

 

 

The trackway continued beyond the manor house’s porch to an open low brick structure, the size of a small barn. It had no doors and, according to Terry, was used as a garage. There was no vehicle parked there. But inside was an array of gardening tools, wheelbarrows, and green industrial bags which, Terry said, the two men should use. Luther immediately set off to investigate. Alexander remained with Terry.

 

 

‘The gardens are in three separate sections’ Terry said, ignoring Luther’s absence. ‘Beyond that archway lies the second section, then another archway leads to a third section. All need clearing. Do a good job and working here could become a regular thing.’

 

 

While Luther collected tools from the garage and Terry chatted on his phone Alexander walked towards one of the ground floor windows and peered inside. He saw an old cello lying on its side, a wooden music stand holding a single sheet of music, and a violin resting on a wooden chair. Alexander’s heart stirred: a music room in a grand country house. What could be more civilized!

 

 

After his call had ended Terry said: ‘There’s one other thing to remember: If a member of the Brook family appears, you speak only when you’re spoken to. What’s more, you’re not, under any circumstances, to go into the house. If I find out you’ve disobeyed, neither of you will work here again. Understand ?’

 

Alexander nodded; Luther stood impassive.

 

As gang-master Terry walked back to the Transit van Alexander, eager to make a good impression, took up a rake and set to work. But Luther seemed to have other ideas. Why isn’t he doing anything, Alexander thought ? Hadn't he heard what Terry had said ?

 

When Luther eventually began to bag the dead leaves, Alexander relaxed. He began speculating about the occupants of the grand manor house, telling Luther the kind of people he imagined lived there. But his chatter didn’t sit well with his brooding companion. Luther picked up his tools and wandered off towards the second area of the garden, leaving the younger man baffled.

 

After a while Alexander stopped work and drank from his water bottle. He stared at the house for a while, his eyes scanning the windows, the roof, the turrets that stood at either end. Someone was inside the house, he was certain. What’s more he had a feeling that he was being watched. But no matter how hard he looked he wasn’t able to see anyone, so returned to his work, looking up every now and again to see if he could catch sight of a figure hiding behind the upstairs curtains or else crouched beneath one of the downstairs windows.

 

After an hour Alexander decided to go in search of the elusive Luther. He couldn’t see him in the second section of garden so walked towards the third section. As he passed through the wooden archway his eyes set on something that made him gasp in disbelief. Lying at the far end of the lawn, framed by the forest trees, was a full size wooden sailing ship, the kind of ship that Alexander associated with the era of the Spanish Armada. Alexander could see that it originally had three masts. Now only the central mast remained intact; the other two had collapsed.

 

‘Luther ?’ Alexander shouted.

 

The older man was standing at the stern admiring the hull. ‘Luther - what are you doing ? Aren't you going to do any work ?’ But Luther didn't seem to hear what Alexander was saying. He was far too interested in surveying the ship - its shape and dimensions - as if it was the most important structure he'd ever seen.

 

In the time it took Alexander to walk across the lawn, he too had become excited about this strange vessel. He’d never seen such a thing placed in a garden. What was the significance of it ? Perhaps it was normal amongst wealthy English people to have ships and planes and all manner of heavy equipment lying abandoned on their land. Though Alexander had little interest in looking inside the ship or going on board, he suspected that Luther wasn't going to resume work until a more thorough investigation had been carried out. ‘Do you know why it’s here ?’ he asked.

 

Luther placed his hand on the ship’s rudder, in the same way that someone might touch a revered object or relic.

 

He muttered ‘No’, more to himself than to his companion. Alexander, indicating the port side of the vessel, said: ‘If you lift me, I’ll try and look inside.’

 

Finally there was a response. Alexander placed his foot in Luther’s conjoined hands and, with great effort, the older man bore Alexander onto his shoulders. Once he was balanced, Luther maneuvered himself so that Alexander was able to peer through one of the ship’s portholes. At first it seemed too dark to see anything. But once Alexander’s eyes began to adjust he could make out heavy chains and bunk beds and an old mattress on the floor. He recounted these things to Luther and said: ‘I can’t see anything else in there. Let me down.’

 

It was natural to expect Luther to return to the task in hand now that he'd been told what was inside the ship. But it wasn't to be. Once Alexander had jumped from the older man’s shoulders Luther marched off in a different direction. Despite Terry’s warnings it seemed that he now wanted to explore the manor house.

 

Alexander began to curse. ‘We need to work!’ he shouted as Luther strode purposefully across the gardens towards the manor’s front door. He stood for several minutes pulling and pushing and banging on the door. But once he was certain it was locked and no one was about to let him in he marched off in a different direction to search for an alternative way inside. But it was no use. The ground floor windows were locked and so too were the turret doors. By the time Alexander caught up with him, Luther had conceded defeat and come to a realisation that they needed to bag more leaves before Terry arrived to collect them at six pm. Frustrated, the older man returned to work, mumbling his discontent.