The Loss of the Marion

by Linda Abbott

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “How much longer must I fight against such an absurd accusation?”

  “Why are you here?” Nellie asked, as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “I wish to speak to Marie,” he said. Nellie loved when Eloise McEvoy spoke English with lilting musical tones, but the same accent from Maurice’s mouth scraped her last nerve raw.

  Annie’s body grew rigid. “You killed her pa along with a whole crew of God-fearing men,” she said. “You have some gall coming here.”

  Captain Maurice turned to Mother Patrick. “I have a right to speak to Marie.”

  “Right!” Annie shouted. “Marie and Bessie had a right to see their fathers again!”

  “Annie,” Mother Patrick snapped in her disciplinarian voice. “Kindly take control of yourself.”

  “Captain Maurice,” Nellie said softly. “Did you break into Marie’s house last night?”

  “Yes.”

  Annie’s steel-hard eyes flew to Maurice. “You hated Ike so much, you won’t be satisfied until his little girl suffers, too.”

  Nellie covered Annie’s hand with her own. “Captain Maurice, what makes you think you have any right to see Marie, let alone talk to her?”

  “The best reason,” he said quietly. “She is my granddaughter.”

  Chapter 17

  Annie leaped to her feet and stood over Captain Maurice like a brick tower. “Pay the slime fish bait no heed!” she said. “He’s nothing but a racket raiser.”

  “Annie,” Mother Patrick interrupted. “We need to discuss this matter rationally, quietly.”

  Nellie felt the room spin. This is a dream, she thought. I’ll wake up any minute now.

  Annie remained standing. “Why should we believe this murdering slippery eel?”

  Annie’s raised voice penetrated the fog in Nellie’s brain. She blinked and stared at Maurice. “But . . . but Ike would have told us,” she whispered, barely able to put a thought together.

  “Annie,” Mother Patrick said. “Please sit down.” She leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk. “Captain, why haven’t you bothered with the child before now?”

  Annie leered at Maurice. “S’pose you’re gonna put the blame on Ike for that.”

  “Non. It was all my fault.”

  Annie felt the shock fizzle away and the haze lift from her brain. Another emotion boiled up in its place. She peered at the captain. “Ike must’ve had some good reason to keep you a secret.”

  “Darn right,” Annie said.

  “Your anger is justified,” Maurice said. “I would like to try and explain—”

  “Annie,” Mother Patrick said over him. “Take Bessie and Marie home right now.”

  “With grand pleasure,” she said, and marched from the room.

  Nellie glared at the captain. “Let me straighten you out about one thing. Even if what you claim is true, Marie stays with me.”

  Mother Patrick’s right eye twitched ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, Nellie. He told you the truth about Marie.”

  Nellie squashed the urge to run from the office. Away from Maurice. Away from the pain he represented. Away from the truth. “How do you know?”

  The nun tidied books on her desk absently. “Father Jean-Claude told me what Maurice said to Marie when he saw her in St. Pierre.” Her glasses slid to the tip of her nose and she pushed them back up with a finger. “I didn’t believe you were ready to hear the awful truth.”

  “You should’ve warned me, given me time to prepare for this.” Nellie’s breath quickened as she turned to the French captain. “Ike left Marie in my care. His lawyer said nobody, relative or no, could take her from us.”

  “That is not my intention.”

  “I need some time to think on all this. Marie’s future is at stake.”

  Maurice withdrew a stack of white envelopes from the top pocket of his jacket. His hand trembled as he held them out to Nellie. “Please, read these.”

  “You stole them from Ike’s house, didn’t ya?”

  “They are addressed to me.”

  Nellie snatched the letters and stuffed them in her apron pocket. “Don’t go near Marie or Bessie again without my permission.” She glanced at Mother Patrick. “I’ll be talking to you later.”

  She pushed open the door to a refreshing cool breeze and took a deep breath. Her hand hovered over the pocket containing the letters. They might be addressed to the captain, but he had no right to break into someone’s house and steal them. Nellie strode down the hill with long steps. The pressure of the feather-light letters against her leg was hardly noticeable, yet it felt like she carried the burden of a lifetime.

  Nellie let the door slam behind her when she entered the kitchen. Annie had supper underway, muttering to herself about Maurice. The children were nowhere to be seen. At five o’clock, they all appeared and sat at the table without a word. Bessie’s appetite had returned to normal after the pneumonia, yet she picked at her food today.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” Annie said. “You loves pease pudding.”

  The corners of Bessie’s mouth turned down. “I don’t like Captain Maurice. He’s the hooded man.” She swished a lump of pease pudding around her plate. “Marie said he wore a hood when she saw him in her pa’s house.”

  “That was a raincoat,” Nellie said. “Captain Maurice will never take Marie away.”

  Annie smiled at the two girls. “I’ll see to it that promise is never broken.”

  Bessie poked a blob of pease pudding in her mouth. “I knows a secret about Joe,” she said playfully. “He sat with Amy LaCroix in school all week. He likes her.”

  Joe flushed like Nellie had never seen before. “It was the only seat left,” he said. His eyes bored into his plate.

  Sam looked sideways at him. “No it wasn’t.”

  “She always sits by me.”

  “No she don’t.” Sam again.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Bessie puckered her lips. “Amy wants to kiss ya.”

  Nellie enjoyed the pleasant bantering between her youngsters, thrilled they were acting more themselves again. Harry Myles, she thought. You must be some pleased about that.

  “Joe likes Amy, Joe likes Amy,” Bessie and Marie sang in chorus.

  Joe gobbled down a huge piece of gingerbread. “I’m gonna cut wood,” he said before anyone else finished eating.

  Annie tut-tutted. “Leave the poor boy be.”

  After completing their homework and chores, the youngsters played cards in the kitchen. Nellie and Annie retired to the living room.

  “I’ve decided to move into Ike’s house,” Nellie said, the knitting in her hands forgotten. “What do you think about that?”

  Annie darned a hole in one of Joe’s socks. “About time. That big house shouldn’t go to waste.”

  “I’d like you to come live with us. It’ll do the youngsters a world of good to have their nan under the same roof.”

  Annie pulled a hanky out of her pocket. “My darn hay fever’s acting up again.” She blew her nose. “I can’t let the youngsters down.”

  “It’s beautifully furnished, so we’ll only need our clothes and personal things.” Nellie sighed. “Now there’ll be three empty houses here . . .” She looked toward the kitchen and lowered her voice. “. . . because of Ike and Captain Maurice.”

  Annie stuffed the hanky back in her pocket. “That French fella has some gall coming here and spilling dirty lies.”

  Nellie laid down her knitting and took out the letters Maurice had given her. “We have no choice but to face up to the facts,” she whispered, so quietly Annie had to lean in close to hear her. “Marie is Maurice’s granddaughter.”

  “Aren’t you gonna read those?” Annie said.

 
“I haven’t decided yet.”

  Annie yawned. “I’m gonna put the French fella from my mind for tonight.” She stretched, spreading her bare arms out wide. “My bones are dog tired. I think I’ll stay the night.”

  “Time for bed,” Nellie yelled into the kitchen. Annie kissed Bessie and Marie goodnight. She grabbed hold of Joe and Sam when they tried to escape her embrace. “Harry and Tommy did the same,” she chuckled.

  Nellie headed for the stairs, but Annie remained in the armchair. “Aren’t you coming up?”

  “I’ll sleep on the chesterfield.”

  Nellie hid a smile. Annie intended to protect them if Maurice sneaked into the house during the night. She got blankets and a pillow from the hall closet. “Good night, Annie.”

  “Things will look brighter in the morning.”

  Nellie dragged herself upstairs and into bed. She lay back against the pillows and stared, wide-eyed, at the letters on the side table. Marie had never known her mother. Had she the right to deprive her of a grandfather? Nellie cringed. As far as she was concerned, Maurice had murdered every man aboard the Marion. She ran a hand down the side of the bed where Harry had slept all their married life.

  Can you really be sure he’s guilty, love?

  “Oh, Harry,” Nellie murmured through a sob. “I don’t know anymore.”

  Maybe reading the letters will tip the scales for ya.

  You always knew the proper thing to say, Nellie thought. She sat up, reached for the first envelope, and opened the flap. Her heart beat faster. The bedside candle had burned down to the quick when she returned the last letter to its envelope. She snuggled under the covers and fell asleep.

  Nellie crawled out of bed to the smell of pancakes and toast after what felt like only a few minutes.

  “Got some good news,” Annie said. “Maurice’s trawler is gone.”

  Nellie looked out the window toward Burke’s Cove. “We haven’t seen the last of him,” she said, and buttered the warm toast.

  Annie stirred bubbling oatmeal. “Did you read the letters?”

  Nellie placed the toast in the centre of the table. “I did.”

  The youngsters scurried to the table, stopping Annie from further questioning. “There’s plenty of grub,” she said, “so eat up.”

  “Before you do,” Nellie said, “I have a question. How would you all like to move into Ike’s house? You could each have your own bedroom.”

  Joe let out a sigh of relief as if he’d been holding it in for a long time. “I was scared you were gonna say that we’re moving to St. John’s.”

  “That’s a decision each of you will make for yourself when you’re older.”

  The children looked from one to the other. “All right,” Marie said for the group. “When do we go?”

  “Me and Annie will start moving the clothes today. She’s gonna live with us.”

  Smiles broke out all around the table. Sam’s was the brightest. “Now we’ll have coconut cream pie all the time,” he said.

  With the children off to school, Nellie and Annie carried two sacks of clothing to Ike’s house. Annie boarded up the broken window and scrubbed the kitchen floor. Nellie dusted the entire first floor and washed up the captain’s muddy tracks.

  “It’ll take a few days to get this grand house sparkling clean,” Annie said, and wiped the sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief. “It’s almost dinnertime. We’d best get back and feed the youngsters.” She went home and heated up chicken soup while Nellie made a trip to the post office. Two envelopes awaited her: one from Dottie, the other from Mr. Fleming.

  She opened Dottie’s letter the instant she came through the kitchen door. “She says the twins are growing like weeds and she can’t wait for you to see them. You know, Annie, there’s nothing stopping you from going to St. John’s whenever you likes now.” Nellie pulled the lawyer’s money envelope out of her pocket.

  “I’ll go when everything’s quieted down here. Is there any mention of poor Alice Whelan?”

  “Yes. She’s on her feet again. Mr. Fleming found her a job at the bank.”

  “Alice was always good with numbers. Like our Sam.”

  “She’s not back to herself yet, but she’s coming along.”

  “Poor love,” Annie said. “Tim near had a fit when she wrote to say she was staying on in St. John’s. Rosie’s the sensible one. Gave Alice her blessing even though she misses her something shocking.”

  The conversation was cut short when the children arrived. “It’ll be a few days before the house is ready to move into,” Nellie informed them.

  “It’ll be some good to sleep in my own bed in my own room,” Sam said.

  Joe nudged Sam with his elbow. “And I won’t have to listen to you snore all night.”

  Sam nudged his brother back. “You’re the one who snores!”

  Nellie had to push the children out the door so they wouldn’t be late getting back to school. “I want them to be happy,” she said. “Sometimes, though, I’m scared they’ll forget Harry.”

  “It’s natural they get past his death,” Annie said. “It don’t mean they’ll forget him. Harry never forgot his parents.”

  Nellie pulled a heavy woollen shawl around her shoulders. “I’ve an errand to run. I’ll tell you all about it later at Ike’s.”

  She left for Dr. Fitzgerald’s house and quickly related her request and the reason for it when she arrived.

  “Of course, my dear,” Dr. Fitzgerald said, and brought out his horse and cart from the stable. “Sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

  Nellie declined the kind offer and headed for Boxey. Guy Hays was chopping wood when the horse pulled in alongside him. “I’m some glad I caught you home,” she said.

  “This is a surprise, Nellie. What brings you this way?”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  Guy helped her down and tied the horse to the fence post. “I’ll get Chiselle to warm up the kettle.”

  The young French girl smiled sweetly at Nellie. “Ça va? Ah . . . Pardon. How are you?” she said in slow, very accented English.

  “My missus hasn’t gotten the hang of our talk yet,” Guy said, putting his arm around her. “She’s coming along, though.”

  Chiselle placed the same French pastries on the table Nellie had eaten in St. Pierre. Guy chomped on the creamy delight. “Can’t beat the French for making sweets.”

  Nellie chewed a tiny morsel. “Guy, I want to ask you about what your cousin François said about Captain Maurice and the Marion.”

  “Ouf!” she said, throwing her hands into the air. “François est fou.”

  Guy turned to his wife. “Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?”

  Chiselle continued in French with the occasional question thrown in by Guy.

  “Sorry ’bout that, Nellie,” he said when his wife concluded the rant. “When she gets riled up, the smidgen of English she’s learned flies out of her head.”

  “I take it Chiselle’s not too taken with your cousin.”

  “She says he’s a drunk and practically lives in the bar of the Hôtel de France. I thought he still sailed with Maurice, but Chiselle said the captain let him go after a half-dozen warnings about being drunk while fishing on the Banks.”

  “François hates le capitaine Maurice,” Chiselle said. “One cannot . . .” She paused, looked at Guy, and continued, “croire.”

  “Believe,” he translated.

  “Oui. One cannot believe what he say of le capitaine.”

  Nellie made it back to Ike’s house by late afternoon and filled Annie in. “Didn’t mean to be so late. I’m still in a fog about everything.”

  “For now let’s worry about getting the house ready,” Annie said, and took out a sack of potatoes from the pantry.

 
Bessie started in on Joe about Amy at supper. He suffered the teasing in silence. Nellie wasn’t sure how she felt about her oldest boy growing into a man. The next day she and Annie continued cleaning Ike’s house. Both were exhausted by the time they went home. Nellie had just started to go upstairs when they heard a knock at the back door. She heard Annie mumble something about being disturbed while getting supper. Annie opened the door to a familiar face.

  “Bon soir, Mme. Myles,” Father Jean-Claude greeted Nellie.

  “Father Jean-Claude, is something the matter?”

  Mother Patrick stood behind the priest. “We’re going to Ike’s house. It’s time to settle this mess with Maurice.”

  Nellie grabbed the key from the cupboard and chased after the mother superior. “Why are we rushing like the devil’s on our tail?” she said.

  “I’ll tell you when we’re in Ike’s house.”

  Annie and Father Jean-Claude almost ran to keep pace. “Thank heavens we’re here,” Annie said, a hand on her chest.

  “Quelle belle maison!” the priest said. “What a beautiful house.” Inside, he saw the portrait of Marie’s mother and stood under it. “Chantal was very lovely,” he said.

  The front door opened and a cold wind swept into the living room, along with Maurice. He took off his captain’s hat. “Bonjour, mon père.”

  “Take a seat,” Mother Patrick said. She gazed at everyone in the room. “I sent for Captain Maurice. Father Jean-Claude is here on my bidding to help guide us through our problem.”

  Chapter 18

  Nellie looked at the small man she had believed gutted her world with one vicious act. “You’re a fishing captain like Ike was,” she said. “Why did you resent him before you ever met him?”

  Maurice gripped his hat with both hands. “Fishing is a dangerous life, and lonely for everyone in the family. I did not want that for my only child.”

  “Marie’s the spitting image of Chantal. I will not let her be a stand-in for your daughter,” Nellie said, holding back tears.

  Maurice’s shoulders stooped. “I have denied my granddaughter all her life. I simply want the chance to get to know her.”