Magnus Mills - Three to See the King

‘We’ve managed to overcome that little setback,’ he explained. ‘Following the advice you gave us.’

‘That’s good,’ replied Michael.

‘And now we’d like you to see the results.’

‘Yes, well, certainly I’ll come. Thank you.’

‘When do you think that will be?’

‘As soon as possible.’

Tomorrow?’

‘Maybe not tomorrow, but very soon, I promise you that.’

The man looked delighted with this news, and said he hoped even greater things would follow such a visit.

Shortly afterwards a second man sidled up to the table.

‘Excuse me, Michael,’ he said, in a quiet voice. ‘Could I ask your opinion on something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Do you agree that it’s better for people to complete the task they’ve started, rather than just moving willy-nilly from one job to another?’

‘Yes,’ said Michael. ‘What you’re saying sounds like good practice to me.’

‘And that it’s not fair leaving others to see things through?’

‘Quite right.’

‘Well, could you possibly have a word with Nicholas?’ asked the man. ‘He’s gone off without completing his work and started somewhere else.’

‘Ah, Nicholas!’ answered Michael, with a smile. ‘Yes, I remember he came and asked me about that.’

‘Oh … did he?’

‘Yes, you see his closest companion was working on another site, and they wanted to be together.’

‘So it was with your approval, was it?’

‘It was indeed.’

‘Well, I wish he’d told me.’

‘That would have helped, yes, but you know now, so everything’s alright.’

‘Yes … er … thank you, Michael. Sorry to bother you.’

And so it continued. Throughout our meal, my host was repeatedly being called on to arbitrate and offer advice, to grant favours and give consent to certain propositions. In doing so he showed infinite patience, always managing to settle issues in a manner acceptable to everyone, and to give praise where it was due. All the same, it struck me that this must be putting a great strain upon the man, and I wondered if they ever gave him time to himself. For it was his time that they demanded the most. Without exception they appeared to like nothing better than to be seen with him, however briefly, and to have his undivided attention.

Special status had been conferred on me as well, although to a much lesser extent. While Michael Hawkins was dealing as best he could with the various requests, I found myself under the perpetual gaze of a few men and several women. I didn’t want to make the same mistake as I had with Jane Day, but even so it was pleasant to be on the receiving end of their smiles and glances. Better still was when Alison Hopewell made an appearance. She was walking amongst the tables, evidently looking for someone, so I called out her name. When she saw me she gave a friendly wave, but her eyes continued searching. A moment later they fell on Michael Hawkins, sitting there beside me. Then she came over.

‘Hello,’ she said to me. ‘So you made it down here after all.’

I didn’t even get the chance to answer.

‘Oh, Michael,’ she continued. ‘Do you think you could come over to the new diggings?’

‘Yes, I can if you like,’ he replied. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘It’s Steve.’

That was all she said, but it was enough to cause a slight murmur to pass around the table.

Michael glanced at me.

‘Would you like to come along?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘If you think I can be of help.’

When he rose from his seat one or two other people did likewise, as though to provide strength in numbers.

‘No, that’s alright,’ said Michael. ‘Just the three of us will go. The rest of you please stay and enjoy your supper.’

They resumed their meal as we left and headed across the canyon to the far side. This was by way of a footpath of raised earth that passed between several deep excavations. In some of these the people were still working. Others lay empty, with tools and equipment carefully stacked together until next required. Ahead of us the ground was a good bit higher, suggesting operations had only recently begun. This, I assumed, was what Alison had referred to as ‘the new diggings’. There were planks laid out to allow access from the footpath, but, drawing nearer, I saw that many more planks remained stacked in a pile, around which stood about a dozen men. One of these turned out to be Steve Treacle.

Even from a distance I could see he was involved in an argument with one of the others. This was quite obvious from his stance, which made him look oddly twisted as he leant forward with his shoulders hunched, jabbing one finger at a man at the other side of the pile. Most of the onlookers were watching intently, while one or two made half-hearted attempts to continue their work. Then someone spotted us coming, and everything changed. Steve’s posture relaxed visibly, as if he saw vindication approaching. The other man, in the meantime, took a plank from the pile and stood holding it.

If they expected Michael simply to march up to them and settle the dispute they were wrong. Instead, he picked up a shovel from where it leant against an earth bank, and started digging. Everyone watched in silence as gradually he loaded a barrow until it was full.

Then he turned to the man with the plank and said, ‘Could I have that please?’

The man obliged and handed it to Michael, who laid it from the point where he stood to the beginning of the footpath.

‘But Michael,’ said Steve. ‘That’s a broad plank.’

‘So I see,’ replied Michael.

‘But we need the broad ones for shoring up the works. Only the ordinary ones are used for running the barrows along. That’s how it’s been done ever since the beginning.’

‘I know,’ said Michael. ‘Yet clearly I need a plank here, and as far as I can see all those beside you are broad ones.’

‘Then I’ll run and fetch you an ordinary plank!’

‘It won’t be necessary.’

‘But you told me yourself!’ Steve protested. ‘I’m only doing as you said! The broad ones are best used for shoring up, that’s what you’ve always told me, but these people won’t listen! Please tell them I’m right!’

He looked desperate, and it suddenly seemed as though he was wholly dependent on Michael Hawkins’s affirmation. I glanced at Alison, standing beside me with her arms folded, and saw that she was regarding the scene intently, as were the other bystanders.

‘Of course you’re right, Steve,’ said Michael at length. ‘It’s pleasing to know that you follow my advice so closely, and indeed your compliance is beyond question. Nonetheless, I’m sure you’ll agree that we should not allow the means to defeat the end. Won’t the broad planks suffice on this one occasion?’

A long moment passed, during which all eyes were on Steve.

‘I suppose they could,’ he answered, a little stiffly. ‘But the general rule still applies, does it?’

‘If you wish to call it a rule, then yes,’ replied Michael. ‘It’s just a way of doing things, really.’

While they’d been talking, I’d noticed that a second plank was needed to complete the connection to the footpath. The matter now being settled, I went over to the pile, selected a plank, and placed it end-to-end with Michael’s. This simple act, witnessed by a dozen people, had consequences I could never have predicted. I meant only to ease Michael’s burden a little, yet by moving that plank without asking permission from him, from Steve, or from anyone else, I bestowed authority upon myself.

That night, for the first time in my life, I slept beneath a tarpaulin. It was most pleasant. The fabric provided adequate protection in the mild conditions of the canyon, and life under cloth made an interesting change from the rigours of a tin house. There was none of the creaking and groaning to which I’d become accustomed over the years, nor were there shutters and doors to be opened and closed at certain intervals. Instead there were only flaps, which could be lowered for additional privacy, or rolled up to allow the circulation of air. As I said, it made an interesting change, but it was nothing more than that.