The Hull Home Fire (10 page)

“I don’t want Dougie to see her like this,” Mrs. Norris said. She covered her
mouth to hold back a sob.

Henry touched Mary’s cold cheek. “Please, Mary,” he whispered. “Don’t leave
me.”

MIKE CLOSED THE BOOK HE
hadn’tbeenabletoconcentrate on and
tugged the straps of the seat belt around his waist. The flight had been long,
with too much time to weigh out the possible outcomes of his visit. He hadn’t
allowed himself to do that before. The closer the plane cruised toward
Newfoundland, the more his resolve faltered. Too late to turn back now.
Restless, he sighed, knowing he couldn’t give up, even if it were
possible.

Tall and broad-shouldered like his younger brother, he had been cramped in a
space not meant for a man his size. The metal lock clicked into place. The same
sound echoed throughout the compartment. All seat belts secured, the plane
tilted to the right on its approach to the airport. Mike looked out the window
at the birthplace he hadn’t seen in forty years. He felt something wet on his
cheek. He brushed it away. The plane passed over The Narrows and the harbour
lined with the Portuguese White Fleet, the group of fishing vessels so named
because they were all painted white. A huge cargo ship was in the process of
being unloaded. Tom was probably one of the longshoremen unloading the
merchandise.

Mike leaned his head back against the seat. Tom had been a mere
boy of ten when he left. Would he recognize the man he had grown into ? A sense
of loss overpowered him, a physical ache in the pit of his stomach.

“You’ve gone rather pale,” the elderly man next to him said. “Are you all
right ?”

“Yes,” Mike said. “Just a lot of regrets floating around in my head.”

“I left Newfoundland sixty years ago,” the old man said. “And come back for a
visit every chance I get.” He smiled. “It’s best to leave regrets in the past
and focus on happy memories.”

Mike closed his eyes. How many happy memories had he missed out on ? He had
missed Tom’s graduation from school, his marriage. Missed the birth of his only
nephew. Missed time together as brothers.

“
SIR ?
”

Mike’s eyes flew open.

The stewardess leaned over him. “All the passengers have disembarked,” she
said. “Do you require assistance ?”

“No, thank you,” Mike said. He put on his coat and followed the young woman to
the front of the plane.

“Have a pleasant stay,” she said.

“Goodbye,” Mike said, and descended the steps to the asphalt. The winter air
nipped at his skin like a pickaxe. Inside the terminal he collected his luggage
and called a taxi.

“Home for a visit, are ya ?” the driver said when Mike gave him the
address.

Mike sat forward. “What makes you think I’m from here ?”

“Well, now, buddy.” The taxi man glanced in the rear-view mirror at his
passenger. “The way you talk is a dead giveaway.”

“That’s one less thing Tom will have to criticize,” Mike
murmured.

“What was that, buddy ?”

Mike took off his hat and laid it on the seat. “I’ve been away for forty
years.”

“You still have family here ?”

“A younger brother and his family.”

“He must’ve been a youngster when you left.”

“Tommy was ten.”

They passed alongside Quidi Vidi Lake. Mike looked at the ice-covered water. “I
rowed in the Regatta three years in a row,” he said. “They were good
times.”

“The record’s still not broken.”

Mike heard a hint of pride in the man’s voice.

“My father was the skip of the winning crew,” the driver continued. “I rowed
myself for a while. The body’s not up for it anymore.”

A grey haze hung over the city. “As the plane was coming in for a landing,”
Mike said, “I saw clouds of smoke in the downtown area. Know anything about
that ?”

The taxi man gave a shrill whistle. “An awful fire first thing this morning.
Never seen anything like it before in all my days. Water from the hoses froze
into monstrous icicles the second it touched the building. Some of the firemen
were treated for frostbite.” He paused. Mike waited for the driver to continue.
When he did, his voice vibrated with a touch of sadness. “That wasn’t the worst
part.” He shoved his hat back from his eyes. “Thirty-four people died. I still
can’t fathom it.”

“What caused the fire ?”

“Don’t know as yet.”

“Where was the fire ?”

The driver pulled up in front of Dr. Kennedy’s house and the
question was lost in the sound of the brakes. “Here we are,” he said in a
livelier tone.

Mike paid the fare and stepped onto the sidewalk with two suitcases.

“Need help with the luggage, buddy ?’

“Thanks. I’ll manage.”

“The sidewalk’s like glass. Mind you don’t fall down.”

Dr. Kennedy hurried out, having thrown his coat on when he saw the taxi stop.
He pulled Mike into an embrace. “I meant to meet you at the airport, but I’m not
long home myself.”

Mike smelled smoke on his clothes. “That’s a doctor’s lot in life for you.” He
noticed the doctor’s drawn expression.

Dr. Kennedy lifted the larger suitcase from the ground. “Let’s get inside where
it’s warm and cozy. It must feel strange to be back.”

“You can’t imagine.” Mike looked around at the homes painted red, green, and
yellow. Signs of uniqueness and character, as far as he was concerned.

The doctor looked his friend up and down. “You look good, considering...”

Mike smiled. “Considering we’re old men.” He retrieved the remaining suitcase
from the ground and trod with caution across the shiny snow.

SEATED IN FRONT OF A
roaring fire in the library, the two
enjoyed hot tea. “We’ll have something a bit stronger later,” the doctor said.
He shivered, even though the room was stuffy with heat. “Right now I need a
clear head to get my thoughts in order.”

“It’s wonderful to see you after all these years, Frankie,” Mike said. “You’ve
hardly changed.”

“No one’s called me that since my Charlotte passed.” He stared
at nothing in particular. “Medical school was quite a while ago.” He looked at
Mike with a whimsical spark in his eyes. “And I had a full head of hair then.”
The fire crackled. “Life twists and turns us into places we should never have to
go.”

“Sometimes we aren’t given a choice,” Mike said.

Dr. Kennedy laid his mug down and pulled on a bushy eyebrow. “We have a lot to
talk about, Mike.”

“I see old habits never die. It’s a wonder you have any eyebrows left.”

Mrs. Simms, the housekeeper and cook, stuck her head in the door. “Dinner’s
ready, Dr. Kennedy. Salt fish with drawn butter, like you asked. Would you be
wanting me to serve it now ?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Simms.”

“Mmmm,” Mike said. “Haven’t had that since I left.”

The doctor stood up, his stooped shoulders now more pronounced, and led the way
to the dining room. They sat at the long, dark table decked out with a linen
cloth, china dishes, and silver cutlery. Carnations set in a white porcelain
vase graced the centre. Dr. Kennedy chuckled. “Mrs. Simms has gone all out for
you.” A Persian rug covered most of the hardwood floor. A wedding portrait of
Dr. Kennedy and his wife hung over the marble mantel. Candles glowed from either
end.

“Charlotte was quite beautiful,” Mike said, taking note of her auburn curls and
rosy complexion.

“Indeed she was.” Dr. Kennedy sighed.

Dinner conversation was sparse, confined to the weather and how much the city
had developed over the years. Dr. Kennedy wolfed down the food while Mike picked
at his.

“Which is it ?” the doctor asked.

Mike looked up, startled, as if surprised to find he wasn’t alone.
“What ?”

“You’re not hungry or you don’t like Mrs. Simms’s cooking ?”

“This is more delicious than I remember.”

“Then eat up. Mrs. Simms expects you to clean the plate.” The doctor lowered
his voice as if to inform his friend of a possible conspiracy. “She won’t let
you have any homemade coconut cream pie if you don’t.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Mike said, and proceeded to eat every morsel.

The meal over, the doctor showed him to his room. “Come down to the library for
a drink when you’re ready.”

Dr. Kennedy sat, elbows on the armrests of the chair, and swished brandy around
in a glass when Mike joined him. A bottle of brandy and another glass stood on
the table next to him. Mike half filled the glass, sat in the same armchair as
before, threw back his head, and downed the drink in one swallow.

“It’s been one hell of a day,” Dr. Kennedy began without looking at his guest.
“A most regrettable couple of days, to tell the truth.”

“I heard about the fire. Where was it ?”

“Hull Home, a combination boarding and nursing home.”

“Isn’t that where Henry works ?”

“The blaze began a few hours before he started work. I knew all the residents,
Mike, administered to their medical needs, listened when they cried.” The doctor
fell back into his chair. “I’ve never felt so useless, so unnecessary, as I did
today.”

“The darker side of our practice,” Mike said.

“Tom’s mother-in-law died in the fire. He thought the world
of
her. She risked her life helping others make it to safety.” The doctor paused
when the flames in the grate sputtered. “Henry’s girl, Mary Norris, is in
serious condition.”

Mike poured another drink from the bottle of brandy.

Dr. Kennedy held out his glass for a refill. “There’s something else I haven’t
told you.” He took a swig of the drink. “Tom had an accident at work.”

Mike’s glass rolled across the hardware floor to the fireplace. The spilled
brandy crawled after it.

“I didn’t mean to be so blunt,” Dr. Kennedy said. “He’s alive and doing quite
well, considering what happened.”

Mike held his breath during the details of the accident. “I find stubborn
patients often do very well,” he said. “Tom’s a prime example of that.”

The grandfather clock in the front hall chimed nine times. “I didn’t think it
was that late,” Dr. Kennedy said. “I have an early day tomorrow.”

“It’s only seven-thirty in Toronto,” Mike said. “I’d be in the middle of dinner
with my wife.”

“You must be tired from the trip. I suggest you get a good night’s rest before
you deal with Tom.”

Mike stared into the fireplace. “I hadn’t given any thought as to how I would
approach him. With what you’ve told me, it’s going to be even more
difficult.”

Dr. Kennedy stretched. “All I can do is wish you good luck.” He stretched
again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Mike lingered in the library, gazing into the fire until the flames became
dying embers. Two drinks dispensed in rapid succession, he plucked a novel from
the many shelves, one in the Sherlock Holmes detective series.

Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. And it didn’t. He rose at
six. On an impulse, he took a taxi to his brother’s house, not at all sure
what he would do once he arrived. As the car turned the corner, three men headed
to the door and knocked. Dressed for outside work, he assumed they were
longshoremen, Tom’s co-workers.

“Stop here,” Mike said to the driver, and watched the men take off their hats
to greet the slender woman dressed in black who answered the door. Mike stared
at her. Elegant was the word that sprang to mind. This must be Alice. He had
come to know her through years of letters. She was more than words on paper now,
and his heart throbbed with sorrow for her loss. The bags under her eyes, and
reddened nose, indicated she had cried most of the night. Her face was grey,
marked with grief, yet still revealed the pretty girl she must have been in her
youth. A tall, handsome young man appeared behind her.

“Oh, my,” Mike whispered.

“Are you all right, buddy ?” the taxi man asked.

Mikes couldn’t tear his eyes from Henry. “Yes. Yes,” he said.

The young man resembled his own son, could have been an identical twin except
for the hair colour. His youngest son was blond like his mother’s family.

“Take me back,” Mike said when the three men went inside.

“
WE
’
RE SOME SORRY ABOU T YOUR
mother, missus,”
Bill said. The other men mumbled agreement.

Alice smiled her thanks. “Would you like a cup of tea to warm up ?”

Bill stood with his hat in hand. “No, thank you, missus,” he said. “Me and the
boys got together at work and took up a collection for you.” He withdrew a large
manila envelope from his coat pocket. “It should keep you going for a
while.”

Henry opened his mouth to speak.

Bill cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say. We know you have some money
saved up for medical school.” He held up the envelope and continued. “The men
agreed you need every penny you’ve saved for that. Son, times will be hard for
your family, and you’re out of work as well, with the Hull Home gone.”

A dockworker next to Bill spoke to Alice. “Missus, it’s not a handout. Tom dug
deep into his pockets whenever one of us was laid up.”

Alice accepted the envelope and laid it on the table. “I appreciate your
generosity,” she said. “So will Tom.”