Tides of Honour (29 page)

“Good morning, Mrs. Munroe,” Danny said, doffing his cap. “You're looking lovely today.”

He was rewarded by a bland smile. “Good morning, Mr. Baker. How can I be of service?”

“I'm here about the boys, ma'am.”

“I assumed that. Has something changed in your application? Because at the moment it is still under consideration, which we have already discussed.”

“Of course,” he said, grinning. “But yes, my situation has changed considerably. Mrs. Munroe, I'd like to present my wife, Mrs. Audrey Baker.” Mrs. Munroe slid her spectacles up her nose and peered at Audrey. She managed a small smile. “I see. Well, this does change things. You are his wife?”

“I am,” Audrey replied. “I thought he was dead.”

“Congratulations to both of you.” Mrs. Munroe's face twisted abruptly into a painful grimace. She reached to the side and pulled a well-seasoned handkerchief from her bag, then blew her nose loudly. “Please excuse me, will you? I—”

Danny nodded, frowning sympathetically. “Mrs. Munroe lost her husband,” he murmured into Audrey's ear. The couple waited patiently until the woman had herself under control. She sniffed, tucked the cloth into her sleeve, then looked back up at them.

“Now,” she said, after taking a cleansing breath. “Let's take a look at your file. Let's see.” She thumbed through a box of envelopes, finally coming across one labelled Baker. She slipped the pages out and laid them on the table in front of her, then skimmed over the words with a finger just beginning to bulge with arthritis. “Ah, yes. Right. Eugene Josiah White, Harry Donald White, and Norman Jefferson White. All three, was it? You wanted to adopt all three?”

Danny nodded. “I wouldn't split them up.”

Mrs. Munroe squinted critically at the couple. “You're awfully young to manage three young boys, but if you think you can handle it . . .” She nodded, then signed something at the bottom of the page and looked up, giving Danny a warmer smile. “I will expedite these forms so you will hear by the end of the week. I'm doing it as a thank you, Mr. Baker. You have done wonderful things for those children. For all of them.”

“No more than they deserved,” he said. “Thank you very much for looking after that. So we'll be back here next Friday? To meet with you?”

“Yes. Bring your marriage certificate when you come. That's how it's done,” she said.

FORTY
-
TWO

They walked into the street,
their footsteps accompanied by the constant pattern of hammers and saws, noises that had taken over for the songs of birds and schoolchildren. Those other sounds were slowly returning to Halifax, but they had a long way to go. A woman walked by with a train of rope-holding children behind her, somewhat like a duck with tethered ducklings, and Audrey and Danny squeezed each other's hands with sympathy. The children were blind and scarred, staring but seeing nothing. They would never see their own scars. Perhaps that was a blessing.

Danny held the door open when they reached the orphanage, and Audrey stepped ahead of him. He knew what she saw because he saw it just about every day.

“Danny!”

The boys—
his
boys, he liked to think—were on him as soon as they looked up from the little toy horses Danny'd carved for them. They wrapped their arms around his legs and squeezed. Behind them, little Norman grinned at him from all fours. He was growing like a weed, that little fellow, reaching for the wall and daring himself to stand.

Danny led the boys back to their brother, then squatted between them. “Boys, I have someone very important for you to meet.”

All eyes went to Audrey, standing beside him. Norman crawled over and grabbed a fistful of her skirt, struggling to find his balance. When he grinned up at her, chin shiny with drool, Audrey sank to her knees and took his little hand in hers, helping him up.

“This is Mrs. Baker,” he told them. “She's my wife.”

“You're pretty,” Eugene said, staring at her. “Like my mom.”

Danny and Audrey exchanged a glance. The little boy's words tugged at Danny's heart, but he smiled. “I think she is too.”

“And you all seem like very fine gentleman,” Audrey assured them. She tapped Norman on the tip of his messy nose. “Even you.”

Norman gurgled something, waved one arm wildly as his balance abandoned him, then plopped down to the floor.

“Danny made us horses,” Harry said helpfully, holding out one of the toys for her to inspect.

“Well! Aren't those lovely,” she said.

She looked at Danny, and he saw a deep, desperate hope shining in those beautiful eyes. It struck him that she'd never known little children, really. And now she stood before these three, quite possibly the salvation they all needed, and Danny realized she was afraid of rejection.

“May I hold it?” she asked Harry.

The twins' expressions were sober but trusting. “You can hold mine too,” Eugene said. “Mine's bigger.”

“Is it?”

“No, it isn't,” Harry said.

“Yes, it is,” replied his brother.

“All right, all right,” Danny said. “Enough of that or I'll take
them both back.” He looked at Audrey. “Mrs. Baker, I have to go to work. Would you like to stay here a while?”

“With these little gentlemen?” she asked. “Oh yes. Would you like that, boys?”

In reply, the boys hopped around, grinning, thrilled at having made a new friend.

“That's settled then.” She reached for Norman, who curled his hand around her finger, making her smile.

Danny loved watching her fall in love with them, just as he had.

“Good,” he said, rising. “I'll see you all later.”

She stood beside him. “Are you still doing construction on Barrington Street?”

“I am. Guess I'll be there a while yet.”

“I'll bring lunch later.”

Danny smiled all day. In the evening he came home, and Audrey had supper ready. It was like before—no, it was better than before. There was no reek of scotch clinging to the air, no bickering over small things. She made them a simple stew, which Mick practically inhaled. After supper the men lit cigarettes while Audrey cleared the dishes.

“It's a strange thing to say,” she said, pouring boiling water into a basin for the dishes. “But I've missed this. I've missed cleaning up and feeling like I'm doing something useful.”

“Yeah?” Mick asked, blowing a perfect circle of smoke toward the ceiling. “I would've thought you'd have been too busy with parties and stuff.”

She grinned but kept her back to them. They could hear the smile in her voice. “Well, it was busy. I don't remember the last
time I had a quiet day. When Pierre wasn't having people over, he expected me to host teas, and we went to a lot of parties. It was all about business, really. He needed to keep up the impression that he was in charge of all the business in Halifax, you know? And I met some interesting people. A lot of them asked me to paint for them.” She glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “I still have most of that money, Danny.”

“That's my girl,” he said proudly. “We'll need that to build our house.”

“So you're gonna move back up the shore?” Mick asked. He shook his head. “Why anyone would want to move away from this town is a mystery to me. This is where the action is, folks! Everything you could ever want is here. Then again, I guess if you prefer reeking of fish and manure, well, you'll find it out there.”

“That's right, Mick. I'm headed back for the manure. Just can't get good-enough shit out here.”

“Danny!”

“Sorry, Audrey. Only teasing.”

“Well, I'll miss you. Won't be the same around here without your snoring,” Mick said.

“You could come with us . . .”

“Ha!” Mick guffawed, smacking his thigh. “I ain't no fisherman, no way.”

When the dishes were put away, Audrey sat back down at the table with them and brought out some scribbled drawings the boys had done for her. She traced her finger along the messy lines, describing how the boys had fared, and Danny could see how proud of them she was. Just like a mom should be.

When she was done, Mick jumped right in with his intended conversation.

“So, Audrey. Let's hear about Antoine.”

She frowned and set the two pictures to the side. “What?”

“The man behind the money. He's somewhat of a mystery to us newspapermen—loud and slippery, but still a mystery.”

“Slippery?”

“Sure, sure. He's sneaky.”

She thought about that, then she gave Mick a hard stare. “He isn't sneaky.”

“Sure. Sure, he is.” Mick chuckled. “He'd take his grandmother's last penny, and she wouldn't even know it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, interestingly enough, I've been doing some investigating of the man lately. He's hardly a saint, as I've said before, and there's some real quiet things happening that shouldn't be happening. His name's all over those things. Did he ever talk money with you?”

“No. I guess he didn't think I would understand.” She shrugged. “And he was right.”

Mick peppered her with questions, then dove back into his office, where he kept newspapers stacked against his typewriter. He emerged with his hands full of paper, a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“Can you remember any of the men's names?” he asked, swinging into a chair and plopping his supplies on the table. “The men he talked with?”

Audrey frowned, then shrugged. “Ralph Whelan was often there. And Harry Shelton. Fred and Joseph Warrington sometimes came, but they never spoke. They just sat in the corner of the room.” She turned to Danny and grinned. “They're twins. I'd never seen grown-up twins before. It was very interesting.”

Mick kept busy writing names as she spoke, scribbling words beside each one. He apparently knew these fellows. Or knew of them, anyway. When he'd finished writing, he looked up and stared silently at her for a moment, making Danny wonder if he'd
finally run out of questions. Of course not. He was only thinking up more. But Audrey stopped him before he could say anything.

“Will you say awful things about Pierre in your story, Mick? I don't know how comfortable I am with that. He was kind to me.”

Danny sighed and dropped his forehead into his hand. “He was so kind to you that he lied and told you your husband was dead. He was such a good man that he let me believe you were dead too. He was such a terrific guy that he got another man's wife pregnant and wanted her to get rid of the baby.” He lifted his gaze to hers. Her face was bright red. “Why did he take care of you? Not because he's a good man. No. Johnny saw it a long time ago, and I didn't listen. He said I never should have let Antoine be alone with you. Antoine saw you as a pretty little decoration, and one that perfectly matched his social circles.”

She took a deep breath. “I used him too. I'm no angel, Danny. I needed to build a new life, and he offered a good one. He isn't fully to blame.”

“Maybe not,” Mick interrupted, stubbing out his cigarette. “But this guy always knows what he's doing. He's sneakier than you'd think, Audrey. Don't give him too much credit. I haven't told anyone about this yet, but I'm working on a really big story. Really big. If I can get all the evidence I need, I can prove he's stolen thousands of dollars from innocent people.”

“Really?” She sounded shocked.

He nodded. “Yep. The man's making his fortune on the backs of orphans and homeless. Not a nice man.”

Audrey sank into the state Danny had seen so many times, disappearing inside herself to think things over. When she got like this, Danny knew it might last a while. She liked to think everything through very thoroughly. Danny wasn't in the mood for thinking, but he had to ask.

“How do you know about all that, Mick?”

“All I can tell you right now is that you have to trust me, and you both have to keep this to yourselves for now. I'll fill you all in as soon as I can.”

Danny nodded, then turned to his wife. “Come to bed, Audrey.”

Her eyes, slightly unfocused from her meditation, lifted, and she smiled. “All right.”

Mick cleared his throat. “I'll just get back to work then. Hey, Audrey?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. This is going to be a heck of a story.”

She gave him a weak smile, then took Danny's hand.

At dinner that night, Audrey was subdued. She pushed her leftover stew around the bowl with her spoon, staying mostly out of the conversation, seeming distracted. Danny tried to give her room but was dying to know what was eating her up.

“I had a visitor,” she said when he asked. “Catherine. You remember her? She came to the orphanage, and she didn't seem the least bit surprised to see me there.” Audrey set down her spoon and rubbed her hands together as if they were cold. “She talks a lot, Catherine does. She said she and her husband had supper with Pierre last night, and he was very angry.” She swallowed, looking nervous. “Pierre does not like to lose.”

“So?”

“She told me we should be careful. That was all she said.”

“Sounds fair, coming from Antoine,” Mick said.

“Yeah, well, he should be careful too,” Danny said.

Mick chuckled. “Sounds fair, coming from Danny.”