Chapter 2

On the first day working for his director, Gilbert was highly nervous. Even in the seven months of working at Taylor and Associates, he had never once spoken to Nelson. Nelson nodded a greeting to him in the mornings as he did with the other staff, but Gilbert hadn’t even sat in on any meetings with him or had a sit-down chat with him – he had no idea what to expect.

Charles showed him into another room with several smaller drafting tables – the space where Nelson worked with his own staff on specific projects. As he waited for Nelson, Gilbert felt like he was stepping into a different world.

At nine o’clock sharp, Nelson arrived. He was fresh and rested, looked composed, and seemed in a good mood. When Nelson was in good spirits, he was attractive, making Gilbert desire to please him.

“Good morning, Gilbert,” Nelson said with a charming smile.

“Good morning, Mr Taylor.”

“You can call me Nelson. Let’s do away with the formalities.”

“Um, yes, Nelson, sir.”

Nelson smirked at that as he sat down at his drafting table before launching straight into the description of their project – a small retail store in the central shopping district. It was a high-end store, and they would renovate it and rework the interior. Nelson brought the existing plans over to Gilbert’s table to explain what calculations he needed to start work.

“Think you can handle it?” he asked.

Gilbert nodded. “Yes, Nelson.”

“Good. I’ll be in my office for a few meetings; then, I’ll come and see how you’re going.”

Nelson patted him on the shoulder and then left him to it. Gilbert could still feel the warmth of his touch after he had left. He set to work, wanting to make a good impression. After a few hours, Nelson returned to check up on him.

“You work fast. Good job.”

Gilbert smiled slightly. He was happy that Nelson was pleased. The rest of the day, he worked self-directed, and it wasn’t as fun as working beside Noel, but the work itself was certainly interesting.

***

After work, Gilbert was exhausted from making a good impression. He returned home, removed his cravat and waistcoat, and lay on the bed thoroughly exhausted. As he stretched his shoulders, he thought that working for Nelson was exciting. The project was more interesting than working on the simple sheds and workshops that he’d been tasked with under Charles. He had moved up in the practice and thought he should write home about this new development. He wondered whether his mother had written to him and glanced down to see that an envelope had been slipped under the door. He opened it to read a letter from William.

Dear Gilbert,

How are things at the architecture firm? I do hope that you are well. The printing shop is fun – the other guys are really friendly, and we’ve been setting type. All the letters are individual pieces of metal, can you believe it? Let me know when you return to visit, and we can go for a drink. Do you remember Grace? She’s been stopping by the shop on her errands, and I’ve been getting to know her.

Gilbert put the letter down and smiled. Will had said he wasn’t interested in women, but look at him now! He smiled and wondered whether he would meet a nice girl in London. The city girls were so snooty that he didn’t think he stood a chance.

He sniffed the air and could smell a roast being cooked. It was time to get ready for dinner, so he stood up to wash his hands and face. As he dried off, he looked out the window to see a young lady reading near the opposite window. She looked up, noticed him, and smiled slightly before retiring into the room's interior. Gilbert felt regret that he had ruined her reading time – he shouldn’t have looked into a lady’s room, but he hadn’t known that she lived there. He stood and walked down the rickety stairs to the dining room, where some of the other tenants were waiting for the meal to be served. Most of the residents kept their heads down, but one turned to nod.

“Good evening,” he said.

“Yes, it is a nice evening,” Gilbert replied.

“I’m Clarke. I live in room nine.”

“Gilbert. Nice to meet you.”

They chatted as they ate the succulent roast beef the landlady had prepared. Clarke was an accountant, who worked on the same street as Gilbert. According to Clarke, the boarding house was filled with single working men. Gilbert was happy that there was a friendly face in the building and enjoyed his meal, feeling that he was slowly settling into life in London.

***

The next day, Gilbert worked on a small bookshop project with Nelson, another interesting task. They did some engineering calculations, and Nelson explained the ideas behind them.

“The client wants something modern,” he said. “For the exterior, I was thinking of getting a craftsman to work on a floral motif for the doors and shopfront. What do you think?”

Gilbert blinked. Was Nelson asking him?

“Would it be along the lines of the shops in Oxford Street?” he asked.

He had passed that area on one of his door-knocking job searches.

“Yes, like David Jones. The glass craftsmanship with the leadlight panels.”

“It’s stunning. I think it would suit a bookshop,” Gilbert said. “It would make it a competitive, stylish building in the area.”

Nelson smiled.

“I’m glad you agree. I’ll speak to the glass workshop and tell you how it goes. Now we just have to work on the acoustics of the interior so that it’s quiet and introspective inside.”

“I can work on that,” Gilbert said.

“Good boy,” Nelson said as he left the room.

Gilbert frowned slightly. He was almost nineteen…Nelson couldn’t think of him as a boy, right? He shook his head and returned to his work, thinking that Nelson was quite eccentric in some ways and also quite condescending. Well, he was the boss, after all. He had the power to be that way.

***

Gilbert quickly settled into work with Nelson, and there was never a dull moment. Nelson had grand creative moods, and he talked excitedly, gesturing to the drawings and speaking of impressive dreams for the projects. His excitement was infectious, so Gilbert liked those moods. At other times, Nelson was severe and stern, and Gilbert would put his head down and work hard. He received praise from Nelson when he did well, so he did his best, but he was still relatively reserved around his boss.

“What do you think of this design?” Nelson said one day.

“Me? What do I think?” Gilbert replied.

“Yes. You’re new to the industry, so you’ll have fresh eyes. Let’s see what all that reading of our architectural history books has taught you.”

Gilbert blushed under the attention.

“It looks like a neo-classical design,” he said, studying the building with its Greek columns drawn at the front steps. “It must be for a civil or arts building?”

Nelson nodded.

“Good. And what do you think of the design choices?”

Gilbert studied them and gave his opinion. Nelson considered it, studying the drawing. He then sketched some of Gilbert’s thoughts on tracing paper.

“Hmm…Yes, that could work. You might have come in here as an engineer, Gilbert, but I think you could do just as well in architecture. I’ll have you sit in on some meetings with our clients.”

“M-me, sir?”

“Call me Nelson, remember?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, Nelson.”

“I think you have a lot of potential, Gilbert. Make the most of the opportunity.”

“Y-yes.”

Gilbert tried to look calm, but inside he was thrilled. He had enjoyed his architectural education, just as he had enjoyed engineering. Perhaps he could learn to think architecturally from sitting in on those meetings with Nelson.

***

“I need you to build a model to scale this shophouse we’re working on,” Nelson said to Gilbert one morning as he showed him the plans and elevations. “We’re completely remodelling it, and I want something to show the client.”

“Yes. I’ve never built a model, though. How should I start?”

Nelson dropped a pile of balsa wood, a knife, and glue on the table.

“Ask Noel if you have any questions. I know you can do it.”

Gilbert nodded nervously, studied the plans, measured out some pieces of wood, and tried to piece together something resembling a model. It looked terrible, even to him. He wasn’t sure what to do with the smeared glue or how to create wooden parts resembling elements of architecture. When Nelson saw it, he lost his temper.

“What on earth is this?” he said. “Do you think this will impress a client?! If you showed them this, they’d find another architect!”

Gilbert was taken aback by his mood.

“I’m s-sorry…” he began.

“As you should be. I’m giving this project to Noel! You’re to sit with him and observe him. I can’t believe this mess. And I thought you were doing so well!”

Gilbert felt ashamed and distressed. He’d never made a model in his life and had no clue on what to do. He watched Noel make the model carefully over the next couple of days, realising that he should have at least asked Noel what to do instead of just jumping into working on it. Nelson’s anger was a surprise, but Gilbert remembered his anger with the other draftsman who had been fired. He concluded that Nelson was a volatile leader, and his fondness for his handsome director dropped somewhat. He now considered Nelson moody, dictatorial, and most definitely unlikeable.

***

Over the next week, Gilbert felt a bit feverish. He would be working, and then, suddenly, he would have hot flashes. He didn’t want to call in sick to work, so he did his best to get through the strange episodes and continue his duties. Nelson seemed to want to work in the small drafting room with him that week too, which meant that he had to apply himself despite the strange moments and symptoms. As the week went by, Gilbert felt that Nelson was interrupting his work more often.

“How are you going with everything?” Nelson would say, sticking to Gilbert’s side and causing Gilbert to feel self-conscious and on edge.

“I’m doing fine,” he’d reply, to which Nelson would say, “just keeping an eye on my protégé.”

Gilbert didn’t like Nelson’s hot and cold behaviour. When Nelson was in a good mood, he was his protégé, and when Nelson was in a bad mood, Gilbert was an inexperienced person to be yelled at. He was sulking at dinner when Clarke noticed.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Gilbert smiled. “It’s just work stress. Nothing that unusual.”

Clarke grinned. “Let me guess… a bad boss?”

Gilbert’s eyes widened.

“How did you know?”

Clarke chuckled. “You work at an architecture firm. Architects are known to be bullies.”

“Oh, that makes me dislike him even more!!!” Gilbert said with fury.

Clarke roared with laughter.

“Don’t worry. It goes with the territory! Let’s go to the pub on the weekend, and you can tell me all about it,” Clarke said.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t want to hear it,” Gilbert said. “It’s all negative things.”

“Wanna bet I don’t? Oh, but you’ll have to listen to my woes about my boss too,” Clarke said with a grin. “Sounds like a fair trade?”

“Oh! In that case, it’s a deal!” Gilbert said with a smile.

“Excellent.”

They finished their meal with laughter and chatter about some of the books on-trend at the moment and urban life, and Gilbert felt like he had finally made a new friend in the big, dark, and lonely city.