12. Never Trust Appearances

When it comes to judging people, our overactive imaginations can sometimes he very unreliable. What the author describes in this short story is a good case in point, Appearances seldom indicate a person's true character or personality,

Rush hour in a provincial town is certainly not so busy as in London, but even so there are plenty of people moving about. Long patient queues wait wearily for buses. Never-ending lines of cars are checked while red traffic lights change to green. Thousands of people are packed tightly in trains, the men's faces buried in their evening papers while women try in vain to knit. In a slow train it may well be an hour's journey to their station.

James Saxon is in his usual comfortable corner, quietly smoking a cigarette. When he is travelling by train at this time, he always reaches the station at ten past five by the station clock, but he never catches the 5:14 train. Instead he travels by the train which leaves at twenty-four minutes past five so as to be sure of getting his corner seat. There are no first-class compartments of reserved seats on this train. He appears to be absorbed in the sports news on the back page of his paper and ignores the hurrying crowds.

Facing him this evening there is a Finnish youth of eighteen, Matti Arpola. This is his first visit of England, though he already knows Geoffrey, the eldest son of the Jackson family, with whom he is going to stay.

As there are several people standing, James Saxon is the only person he can see clearly. Matti decides that he is probably a typical Englishman, and he observes James carefully.

'Can he really be typical?' he thinks. 'He has an umbrella, neatly rolled, but no bowler hat; in fact, no hat at all. Of course, he is reading about cricket and he is reserved and not interested in other people. But he is only of average height and his hair is not fair, but as dark as that of an Italian, and curly, with almost no parting. He is not smoking a pipe, and although we foreigners think that a real English man ought to have a moustache, he is clean-shaven. His nose is slightly crooked. What a serious face he has! He is frowning a little, but the eyes beneath his worried-looking forehead are sincere and honest. I don't think he is intelligent.'

'His clothes are anything but smart. In fact, they are rather old, though well brushed. Even though he is not wearing a wedding ring, he is probably married, with perhaps three children. His gloves are fur-lined and his trousers well pressed. He keeps far too many things in his pockets, so his suit looks badly out of shape. What dull, old-fashioned leather shoes he is wearing! His briefcase is old too and bulging, so that the zip-fastener does not close properly. There are the initials J. S. on it. Is his name John Smith?

'I think he is probably an office clerk or a shop assistant. Does he look like a teacher, though? Anyhow, he lives with a plain wife and five children in a small worker's house with a tiny garden, where he spends his leisure time digging and weeding and mowing the lawn, or painting the tool-shed. But tonight, first he is helping his wife to put the children to bed and then he is taking her to the cinema as this is pay day. Or is he visiting the local pub? Does he drink whisky (I believe most Englishmen do) or does he prefer beer? I am sure he very much likes a cup of tea. He seems quite energetic, but his complexion is pale and he is very thin. Does he find it difficult to satisfy the needs of his miserable wife and seven unfortunate children? Poor fellow! I am sorry for him.'

At last, shortly after a quarter past six by Matti's watch, the train reaches Lakewell Junction, and Matti immediately sees Geoffrey waiting for him. They greet each other. At first Matti cannot find his ticket, but it is discovered in his bulging coat pocket. He gives it up to the ticket-collector and the two boys go off to find Geoffrey's father's car. Near it there stands another car, a magnificent Rolls-Royce, and a handsome, uniformed chauffeur is holding the door open while James Saxon steps in.

'Who is that?' Matti asks. 'Why is he getting into that car? Where does he live? He looks like a poorly-paid clerk or a workman.'

Geoffrey laughs loudly as if this is a good joke.

'That is Sir James Saxon,' he replies. 'He has a fortune of around two million pounds, and controls forty-two factories in this area alone. He is a bachelor who lives in a fourth-storey luxury flat, so, if he feels like it, he can go off to the Riviera for a month or two. Next week he is flying to Japan on business in his private aeroplane, though people say he very much prefers travelling by train. He is said to have twenty-one suits, but he is always seen in the same old one. By the way, I remember now. His father and mother are both Finns: perhaps that is why he takes no interest in cricket. His real name is Jussi Saksalainen, but he is now a naturalised British subject with an English name. He doesn't look at all Finnish.

'Here's your other case. Put it down a minute while I unlock the car. Do you enjoy gardening? If so, you can help me: digging, weeding and mowing the lawn. And I'm painting the tool-shed tomorrow. You don't know how to play cricket yet, but I'm taking you to a match on Saturday. Can you speak English any better now? You can soon lose that Finnish reserve. Come along! Let's get going! I'm hungry and hot.'

Matti remembers sadly all that his school teachers say about his overactive and unreliable imagination. Perhaps they are right after all.

From First Certificate in English Course for Foreign Students,

ed., Ona Low,

Edward Arnold Ltd., 1974.