One of the first things I admired about Roger was his astonishing ability to completely inhabit an imagined character.
As restless teenagers in Montreal, we liked goofing around together. Each of us felt tethered to rules of conduct set by the powerful combination of the Catholic Church and a Jesuit high school. Once off school property, we could leap into stunts we knew would horrify authority. There was no malice in any of them - just a desire for brief escape.
One day, Roger called a popular St. Catherine Street restaurant to make a lunch reservation. He was channeling a fussy travelling companion of the young Lord Kensington (my role) who was visiting Montreal for a few days. Roger aced the British accent - he and his family had come from England. He wasn't asking for exceptional attention from the restaurant, but his haughty yet courteous tone made it clear that was the goal.
We showed up on time, both of us looking unintentionally dowdy in badly fitting suits. Roger stepped forward to the hostess and announced our arrival. She led us to a small table. I nodded graciously at other diners on our way through, trying to play someone comfortable in his aristocratic status.
Roger's performance as the loyal family attendant was impeccable. He solicitously removed my coat, tucking it neatly to one side, and drew a chair out so I could sit. Before settling opposite, he placed a napkin on my lap and we waited for service.
It was then that I realized ours was the only table with a lit candle at its centre - the sole acknowledgement by the restaurant that someone apparently special was in the room. Roger and I smiled at each other. We had pulled it off.
At the end of a meal that went smoothly, we asked for a bill. After a few minutes, the hostess came to our table. "With our compliments," she said. "Bienvenue a Montreal." Roger helped me on with my coat and then reached into his pocket, producing a British half crown that he placed discreetly on the table.
As we were leaving the restaurant, he looked back and started fretting about the size of the tip. "It's all I had but I hope that was enough," he said. Much of his life thereafter was spent making sure that everyone was fairly treated, that everyone had enough.
