Tides of Honour (30 page)

FORTY
-
THREE

Thursday night, Danny and Audrey
stayed up for hours, talking about Eugene, Harry, and Norman. She seemed just as excited as he, and she had visited the orphanage a few more times that week, just to get to know them better. She'd brought along some scones she'd baked and even bought them some new shirts and trousers. As they lay in bed that night, Danny kept gripping her hands, telling her not to get too excited. If the answer was no, they'd both be terribly disappointed. But he was having an awfully difficult time listening to himself.

If the answer was yes, he was going to sit down and write his mother a long-overdue letter. If the adoption went through, he and Audrey would head home immediately to start building their new home. He'd been saving up what he could, and now that he'd had so much practice, he figured he might be able to make some money in construction back home. Maybe the boat market would pick up again. Maybe something would come up. Somehow they'd make it work. They had to. And when the new house was all done, the boys would come out. He hadn't told them what he'd been doing, because he didn't want to disappoint them. Not until he had the answer he wanted to give them. Not until, he hoped, today.

It was a big day, so Danny had asked the foreman for time off. He and Audrey were up early, preparing and laughing like children. When they were ready to head to Social Services, Audrey wore a pretty pastel blue dress with matching hat, and Danny wore his cleanest shirt and pants. Audrey helped him with his tie, which he tucked under a black vest and jacket. Mick gave him the once-over, then vanished into his room, returning seconds later with his newsman's fedora, minus its usual “Press” card tucked into the front. Danny patted the hat on, offered Audrey his arm, and they stepped out into the street.

The summer sun lit the city and warmed the air. Sweat snaked down the back of Danny's neck, but he wasn't sure if it came from heat or anxiety. The heavy black door outside Social Services seemed somehow larger today, more imposing, but it also seemed like a symbol. Like he and Audrey were opening the door on a bold new life. He turned the knob and ushered Audrey ahead of him, removing Mick's hat as he went. Bells hanging over the door chimed cheerily in welcome.

“Good morning, Mrs. Munroe,” Danny said.

The woman was in her accustomed chair behind the desk but was bent over, picking something up off the ground. At the sound of his voice she sat up quickly. “Oh! Mr. Baker. Good morning to you too. And to you, Mrs. Baker.”

On the opposite side of Mrs. Munroe's desk were two chairs. Danny pulled one out and gallantly ushered Audrey into it, then took the other one, smiling broadly.

“Well, ma'am,” he said, “it's Friday, and we're back, just like you told us to be. How did everything work out with the paperwork? Anything more for us to sign?”

Mrs. Munroe started to say something, then bit her lower lip. She frowned strangely at him, then turned toward the files and pulled his from the stack marked Completed. The bold lettering
jumped right off the page and stamped itself onto Danny's heart. This was the most exciting thing he'd ever done.

Just as she had before, Mrs. Munroe slowly slid the papers from their envelope and spread them in front of her, but this time she didn't even look at them.

“Denied,” she stated flatly.

“What?” Danny and Audrey cried together.

“Yes. You see? It's stamped in red right here.” She pointed at the obvious word, and Danny felt all the blood drain out of his face. Audrey, in contrast, went bright pink. Mrs. Munroe frowned at Danny as if he were a recalcitrant schoolboy. “Seems you are not what you say you are, Mr. Baker. Not quite the upstanding citizen you claim to be.”

Danny's blood pounded in his ears. “What?” he cried, leaning forward to read the page. “What does it say?”

She pulled one sheet closer and adjusted her spectacles until her eyes looked huge behind the lenses. “There is quite a list here, provided by a prominent member of Halifax society. Let's see.”

Danny felt sick. He only knew one prominent member of Halifax society.

“Says you have a disreputable character. You have an unpredictable temper, a drinking problem, and”—she shot him a furious glance—“you have been known to strike a woman.”

“No,” Audrey whispered, sounding horrified. Her face went from pink to white as a sheet.

“Obviously, Mr. Baker, we cannot allow you to adopt our children. That would be a crime.” She waited, lips pursed together, but Danny said nothing.

He seethed. Antoine. It could only be Antoine. He rose slowly and replaced his hat. Audrey stood silently beside him, like a shadow.

“Good day, Mrs. Munroe,” he said, and they left the building.

Despite his wooden leg, Danny set a pace that had Audrey practically running beside him. She had ceased apologizing after the third or fourth time, when he'd growled at her to stop. Now she stuck grimly to his side, begging pardon as they pushed past people at the side of the road. Danny barged through the newspaper office door and stopped at a front desk.

“I'm here to see Mick,” he said to the woman there.

“Mick?” she replied sweetly. “Mick? I'm sorry, but which Mick?”

“There's more than one? Well, I'm looking for Mick—” He stopped, realizing he didn't actually know Mick's name since he'd changed it. “I'm looking for one-eyed Mick,” he said.

“Certainly, sir. One moment, please.” She stood and opened a door behind her, filling the quiet room with clacking typewriters and the voices of men, then vanished inside and took the noise with her.

Having reached his destination, Danny's heart began to slow again. Reason started to trickle back into his brain. Audrey stood beside him, staring straight ahead, looking absolutely miserable. He noticed the lace on her little hat was trembling.

“Aw, Audrey. It's okay. None of this is your fault.”

“But it is.”

“Well, if it is, then it's mine too. Don't be unhappy. We'll get this thing fixed up, and we'll be teaching those boys to fish in no time.”

Her eyes didn't believe him, but she smiled nonetheless, and he was grateful for the attempt. He didn't believe himself either.

Mick stepped through the door, striding purposefully around the desk toward them. “Well, if it ain't my two favourite roommates,” he said, grinning. He stopped and frowned. “As the bartender said to the horses, what's with the long faces?”

“We need your help, Mick.”

Audrey chipped in. “I'll give you whatever you need to get Antoine.”

Mick's brow shot up. “Oh? What's the word then? What's the old man done?”

“Blocked the adoption,” Danny said flatly.

“Blocked the adoption? On what grounds?”

Danny snorted. “Antoine believes I have a ‘disreputable character,' and Social Services says his word is better than mine.”

“Well, well, well. He's messing with Social Services now? Wonder who—Oh! That'd be Joe what's-his-name. I'd heard that he—Audrey! This is great! I mean, I'm sorry this is happening to you two, but it's fantastic news for me. And don't you worry. We will get all this sorted out and you'll be chasing after a couple of four-year-olds before you know it.”

Mick's excitement was contagious—almost enough to dampen Danny's anger, but not quite. “Can you really get him?”

“Certainly can try,” Mick said, and very clearly winked his one eye.

The next morning Danny tucked his hammer into his belt, then kissed Audrey goodbye as he set off to the work site. She said she wanted to go to the orphanage, see the boys, and perhaps meet one of the other ladies later on that morning. Both were doing their best to think positively. Mick hadn't come out of his office that morning, and Danny took that as a positive sign.

Despite everything, this was nice, he thought, as he walked through the rain. Like a regular marriage. It was just about the first time he could claim that. The first few money-strapped months of their marriage had been wrapped in deliciously romantic nights and days in his parents' house. The next bunch were ugly and
confrontational, with neither of them being themselves. Neither of those two situations seemed like real marriages. Now they were pulling it together. And their plan to move back to the shore was bringing them closer still.

She had made him a sandwich, which he'd tucked in his overalls pocket. His leg was doing pretty good, and he no longer felt even the slightest craving to have a drink. He still got down on himself sometimes, but lately it was more because of his losses than his disabilities. He missed Johnny terribly. His little brother should have been there to cheer them on as they made these big family decisions. He'd be Uncle Johnny. Just think of that. Johnny might even have been making his own family plans by that point.

Danny arrived a few minutes early and headed toward the most recent wall. The boards were dark from the rain, and drops slipped off the peak of his cap. He took a moment to stretch as tall as he could, fingertips reaching for the endless grey sky while he let out a healthy yawn. Then he pulled the hammer from his belt, stuck a few nails between his lips, and started to work.

He hadn't gotten very far before he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see the foreman, Guy, who was twisting one finger in his ear and looking annoyed.

“Morning, Guy,” he said. “What's up?”

“Changes, Baker. Changes. Orders.”

“So we're moving on? Where to?”

“Boss says I gotta cut you.”

Danny blinked. “What?”

“We gotta make some cuts. Not enough money to pay all the guys. You're on the list to go. Sorry, but that's the way it is. I hear they're hiring on the Eastern Passage. Some kinda cement factory.”

“Why me?”

Guy shrugged. “I only bring the news, you know? Sorry, man.”

Danny watched Guy's back as he walked away, steeling himself as a leaden mixture of fear and anger curdled in his stomach. This could only be Antoine's doing. Again. Danny let his head loll back on his neck, then he glared up at the sky, letting the rain cool his face. After a moment, he dropped his chin, stuck his hammer back into his belt, and headed to the street.

This was going to go on forever. If he went for the cement job, whatever that was, Antoine would find out and block that one as well. In the past, when nothing had mattered, the solution would have been obvious. He would have given in to the pounding in his fists, the urge to drive one of them through the man's face. And he likely would have been tossed unceremoniously into a cell until the end of time. But now things mattered. He had to find answers that came from his head, not his hands.

He would go home. Take Audrey and go. Damn the money. They'd figure something out. He'd have to make enough for the baby too. The irony of that hit him, but he didn't laugh. Antoine was preventing Danny from providing for his own baby. In any case, they'd get by. The Bakers always did just fine. And his parents would be happy to have them home again. Even the baby.

He started toward home, barely conscious of the ache where the peg met his leg. The pain was a constant, but other things hurt much more. Like his pride. His shoe slapped on the wet ground with every step, sounding loud in his ears. He should have been working, not walking.

Somehow, it didn't seem the slightest bit strange when his direction changed. He headed toward the streets in the south, where the buildings stood farther apart from one another, their walls more solid, their gardens neat and tended. It struck Danny again how large Antoine's home was. How the woodwork around
the front door and the four windows facing the street had been worked in meticulous detail. He liked that. Maybe one day he'd fashion wood frames like that for his own home. Danny didn't hesitate at the door. He rapped hard, waited a couple of seconds, then knocked again. He heard the sound of approaching steps from within and stood back a bit, waiting.

“What is it?” Pierre demanded as he yanked open the door. It took only a beat before he recognized Danny, and his expression of irritation flared to one of outright hatred. “What the hell are you doing here?”

In contrast, Danny was cold as metal. “Came to pay my regards, Mr. Antoine. Let you know we're leavin' and you'll never see her again. Never. Oh, also, if you ever come near her again, I'll kill you.”

Antoine's mouth twisted into a smile, but his eyes shone with hostility. “Oh, really? Have you asked her about that? Made sure she still wants a useless cripple as a husband? No. I think there's a different reason you're here. Come to beg, have you? Got no job? No money? No . . . little boys? Maybe you'll have to live off your wife's income, fisherman. She's a very . . . talented woman, Audrey is.”

Danny's fist smashed into Antoine's cheek, knocking the smaller man to the floor, and Danny was on him, punching again and again, riding the fury as it roared through his head. He was grabbed roughly from behind and thrown into the air, landing in the middle of the street. He felt the crunch of boots on his ribs, the beating of fists on his face, hard and purposeful, like when a butcher tenderizes a cut of meat.