Godfrey: Trouble From Toronto

GODFREY: BOOK FIVE

  Adrien Leduc

   

  (Leduc, Adrien 1987- )

   

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form than that in which it is published.

  DEDICATION

  To my father, N. U. Love you dad.

  SYNOPSIS

  Spring 1927. Godfrey and Antoinette are officially an item. That doesn't stop the suave and debonair Eddie Ryerson though. Back from Toronto for a visit, Eddie has his eye on the young women of Wainwright – and Antoinette is in his sights. Meanwhile, Antonia is having a real dilemma getting her choice of treasurer elected for the Wainwright chapter of the Catholic Women's League and Isaac loses a dear friend.

  CAST

  Antonia Messier: grown daughter of Herménégilde Messier and Rosanna “Rose” Tetreault of St. Hyacinthe, QC. Wife of Isaac Leduc

  Isaac Leduc: son of Leandre Leduc and Julie Pilon of St. Timothee, QC. Eldest Leduc brother of the three who moved to Alberta. Husband of Antonia Messier.

  Leopold Leduc: son of Leandre Leduc and Julie Pilon of St. Timothee, QC. Middle Leduc brother of the three who moved to Alberta. Unattached.

  Godfrey Leduc: son of Leandre Leduc and Julie Pilon of St Timothee, QC. Youngest of the three Leduc brothers who moved to Alberta. Boyfriend to Antoinette Lapalme.

  Henri Lapalme: son of Joseph Lapalme and Euphemie Sinotte-Loiselle of St. Dominique, QC. Older brother to Antoinette Lapalme. Husband of Diana Lapalme.

  Diana Lapalme (née: Benoit): sister of Angelique Pare (nee Benoit). Wife of Henri Lapalme.

  Antoinette Lapalme: daughter of Joseph Leduc and Euphémie Sinotte-Loiselle of St. Dominique, QC. Younger sister of Henri Lapalme.

  ISAAC LEDUC

  Saturday morning. Isaac and Antonia are seated at the kitchen table.

  He didn't want to talk about it. Not for one more minute.

  “Isaac...”

  The eldest of the three Leduc brothers shook his head. “I don't want to talk about it, Antonia.”

  They ate their breakfast in silence after that, Isaac chewing loudly on his granola and reading from the paper while Antonia did her best not to broach the subject of Rouge.

  “Are we still going to the dance tonight?” she asked gently, after a time, as she sipped her tea.

  Isaac nodded without looking up from his paper.

  “And are we meeting Godfrey and Antoinette there?”

  Isaac made a sound.

  “It's going to be fun. We'll have a nice time, eh Isaac?”

  Annoyed, Isaac looked at her. She wasn't really asking about the dance – she was still trying to get out of him how he felt about Rouge. “Antonia. I told you - ”

  “But I'm not talking about the horse, Isaac!”

  “No, you're not...not exactly...but you're still pestering me.”

  “Isaac...”

  “Antonia, I'm serious. I don't want another word about that damn horse.”

  Couldn't the woman take a hint?

  “Issac, you've been in a foul mood all morning!”

  “Now look here, Antonia. It's - ”

  “No, Isaac.” The young woman rose abruptly from her chair, snatched up her plate, and stormed from the dining room.

  Damn it. It wasn't bad enough he'd had to shoot his poor lame horse a few hours earlier, now his wife was mad at him.

  He sighed and set down his paper.

  It was those gofers that had caused all this trouble. Bloody hole Rouge stepped into last night...snapped the bone in her leg clean in half.

  Those gofers should be the ones to pay. Those gofers killed Rouge. Not him.

  Rising from the table, Isaac took up his rifle from its spot by the back door – the same rifle he'd used to end Rouge's life at the crack of dawn. He headed outside and shut the door behind him, gazing out at the sun-drenched field. How many gofers could he shoot in an hour?

  DIANA LAPALME

  Saturday evening. Henri and Diana's living room.

  Diana was happy for Antoinette. Happy she’d found someone who made her happy.

  She looked at them – Antoinette and Godfrey – seated on the couch side by side, hands clasped together.

  “You really should get going, you two,” she said fretfully. “At this rate, the dance will be over by the time you get there.”

  Antoinette smiled and shook her head. “We’ll make it, Dee.”

  Antoinette was always doing that – assuring everyone. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing could ever go wrong. While some looked down on Antoinette’s innocence, Diana quite adored it. Most of the time anyways...

  “Well, just so long as you know the Theatre fills up fast.”

  “She’s right,” said Godfrey. “We barely got a table last year.”

  Diana nodded. “There you go.”

  “We’ll leave in five minutes,” said Antoinette, “but we don’t want to be too early...after all, aren’t new couples supposed to be fashionably late? How else is Wainwright supposed to know we’re officially an item?”

  Diana couldn't help but smile. “I didn’t know new love had to be flaunted.”

  Godfrey grinned and looked to see how Antoinette would respond.

  Her cheeks had turned a bright shade of red. “It’s not flaunting...it’s...showing everyone that...it's showing everyone that Godfrey and I are together. Why shouldn’t I want the other guys around town to know I’m with someone? That way they’ll stop bothering me.”

  “She’s right, Dee,” said Henri, entering the living room and propping himself against the wall, pipe in hand. “The other boys around town - the ones that been admirin’ her in the past - they ought to know she’s with Godfrey.”

  Diana's expression grew sympathetic. “Well, I can’t disagree with that...maybe you've got the right idea then Annie. Let everyone know you and Godfrey are together.”

  “That's why I want us to be fashionably late,” said Antoinette cheerfully. She smiled at Godfrey and patted his arm.

  “That way everyone will see you when you go in...” Henri concluded, chewing thoughtfully on the end of his pipe.

  The conversation died and Diana looked at her husband. “Why aren’t we going to the dance tonight?”

  All eyes turned to Henri.

  He seemed surprised by the sudden scrutiny he faced. “I suppose I hadn’t considered it...been so busy lately with seeding...would you like to go?”

  Diana’s face lit up. “Of course! Mon Dieu...what kind of question is that? Would I like to go? How long have you known me Henri Lapalme?”

  Henri grinned as Godfrey and Antoinette laughed aloud. “Long enough to know you love to dance.”

  “Well, then, it should be pretty obvious that I would like to go!”

  Her husband was such a character sometimes...and that's why she loved him.

  “You two have to come, Henri,” said Antoinette, her expression pleading. “We can all go together. It’ll be fun.”

  Diana looked at her husband, waiting for him to answer.

  “Why not, eh?” he said with a smile as he ran a hand through his wavy brown hair.

  “Really?”

  Henri nodded.

  Diana clapped her hands together. “That's the man I married!”

  “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” Antoinette squealed.

  Godfrey smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. “And it wouldn’t have been fun going with just me?” he teased.

  “Well...”

  Diana stood up - too quickly apparently as she suddenly felt dizzy - but no matter. She was
going to the dance. “Alright, I have to get ready. I have to get ready.” Her eyes darted to Antoinette. “What am I going to wear?”

  “Um...a dress?” Antoinette spluttered. “...the white one! With the lace!”

  Diana frowned. “That dress is on the line...but I’ve got that blue one in the closet...oh...” This was starting to unravel. Why couldn't Henri have just said last week they'd be going!? Then she'd have had time to prepare. “What am I going to wear?”

  “Don't worry, Dee! I’ll help you!” said Antoinette quickly, pulling away from Godfrey. “We'll find something really nice for you to wear...and I'll start on your hair...and...”

  Godfrey and Henri exchanged an amused smile as the two young women made their way out of the living room and down the hallway.

  Antoinette stopped and turned back after a second. “Don't worry, we’ll be quick. Ten minutes.”

  Godfrey rolled his eyes. “So half an hour?”

  She waved a hand, poo-pooing him, and then they were gone, their excited chatter carrying after them.

  * * *

  Wainwright’s annual Spring Dance was a popular affair. In fact, apart from the Christmas Ball, there wasn’t a bigger event in town. As with other years, the Elite Theatre filled up quickly, and the cavernous space was soon crawling with young, well-dressed couples babbling away and exchanging pleasantries while white-haired, older folks, clinging to their partners, looked on uneasily.

  “We’re too late to get a table,” Diana moaned, her eyes scanning the crowd of people as the Leduc-Lapalme quartet made their way inside.

  “We don’t need a table, Dee,” said Antoinette gingerly. “Besides, this way Henri will have to dance with you,” she teased.

  Diana’s furrowed brow relaxed instantly . “She’s right, Henri. With nowhere to sit, we’ll have to dance.”

  “I can stand at the bar,” said Henri with some amusement as he led them through the herd.

  Diana rolled her eyes. Henri never wanted to dance.

  “Oh, isn’t this music something,” Antoinette gushed as the orchestra kicked up another Big Band hit.

  Diana beamed. “It’s lovely!”

  Godfrey, who had only been listening with mild interest to their conversation, spotted Guy Messier and several others they knew standing off to one side.

  “Over there, Henri.”

  He pointed and Henri's eyes followed.

  “There's the gang. And it looks like they might have a few tables saved,” he remarked as they passed a waiter carrying two trays of empty champagne flutes. “Looks like your brother and Antonia are with them too.”

  “Oh good,” said Diana, “I want to talk to Antonia about that recipe she lent me. Henri – wasn't that stew I made last week just the best?”

  Henri nodded and patted his belly unceremoniously. “It was the best alright.”

  “Is that Claude Rajotte with Marie?” observed Antoinette, standing on tiptoe to peer over Henri's shoulder. “I thought he was in Quebec.”

  “He was,” said Henri. “I was speaking with Fred yesterday – he got back Tuesday.”

  “Well, that's a rather quick trip, don't you think?” asked Diana.

  Henri shrugged. “I suppose. He was gone for nearly a fortnight.”

  “That's what I mean, dear. Because it takes five days to get there!”

  “Well,” Henri began, “it is seeding time. Families need those boys around.”

  Godfrey nodded. “It's a wonder his father let him go at all.”

  “He is twenty-eight,” said Antoinette.

  “Yes,” said Diana, nodding, “but he also lives at home. Twenty-eight and still at home with neither wife or child to speak of. Must be lonely...poor guy.”

  “Well, he won't be lonely for long,” said Henri, grinning from ear to ear, “because Marie's clearly got her eye on him.”

  “Is this the wants-to-become-a-nun Marie?” asked Godfrey, curious.

  “It most certainly is,” Diana quipped. “And if she has her way - ”

  “They'll be married by Christmas,” said Henri dryly.

  Diana looked amused. “By Christmas? More like by Thanksgiving.”

  Henri shrugged. “Well, either way...Claude might be a husband and a father sooner than he wants to be.”

  “And what's so bad about that?” asked Antoinette.

  “There's nothing bad about that,” Henri laughed, “unless you're Claude. Speaking of which...hey Claude.”

  The swarthy-looking young man nodded in their direction.

  “Henri!” Guy Messier – Antonia's cousin and a fellow Godfrey had met only a handful of times – came barrelling towards them.  “How are ya, Henri? Haven't seen you in awhile.” He clapped Henri on the back.

  “He's always Mister Popular,” Diana mused as Godfrey and Antoinette drew up beside them.

  “Did you get that new chicken coop put up yet?”

  “Not quite – but it's coming along nicely. Another day's work and I should have it finished.”

  “Hey, Godfrey, did you hear about Joe Campbell?” blurted Robert Benoit, his arm wrapped around his petite wife Denise. “Poor bastard was working on top of the Hotel the other day – you know how they're doing those renovations and what not.”

  “Alright...”

  “Well,” Robert laughed, “lucky son of a bitch – ”

  “Robert – watch your language!” cried Denise.

  “ - he fell into a cart full of hay! Got up and walked away without a scratch on him!”

  Godfrey wasn't amused. “I hadn't heard about that.”

  Robert shrugged and raised his beer bottle.“What you going to do, eh? Probably drunk on the job – as usual.” He planted a kiss on his wife's forehead, clearly trying to ease her annoyed expression.

  Godfrey nodded politely. He didn't like Robert Benoit making remarks about Joe. Especially since Robert had his own reputation with the drink...

  “Henri – and you too Godfrey - I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine.” Guy Messier stood beside them with his arm around a well-dressed young man.

  “This here's my good friend Eddie Ryerson.”

  His hair was nicely coiffed and he wore a confident smile.

  “Pleased to meet ya,” said Henri, shaking hands with the stranger.

  “Pleasure's mine,” Eddie replied, reaching for Godfrey's hand next. “That's quite the girl you've got with you,” he said as he shook Godfrey's hand and motioned with his eyes toward Antoinette.

  Godfrey bristled at the remark.

  Antoinette hardly seemed to notice. “Thank you.”

  “Absolutely lovely you are...your eyes...,” he continued pulling away from Guy, “you bear a striking resemblance to Marion Davies, do you know that? You would do well in Toronto. Have you ever considered modelling?”

  Godfrey stood up straight, hardly believing what he was hearing coming out of this stranger's mouth.

  Guy clearly read the dark expression on his face because he stepped in and threw his arm around Eddie once more. “Eddie here has clearly had a bit too much to drink tonight.” He laughed uneasily and steered his friend out of the circle.

  Henri and Godfrey watched them go.

  “Can you believe that...did you hear him? Who the hell does he think he is?”

  “Godfrey...”

  “I don't like that one bit, Annie. The guy has no manners. None. Typical tête-carée.”

  “Godfrey. Please.”

  “He's right, Annie – talking like that when you're with Godfrey...” Henri watched Guy and Eddie head for the bar at the opposite end of the Theatre.

  “You guys - both of you – please,” said Antoinette. “We're here to have a good time. Let's not ruin it eh?”

  “Everything alright?”

  It was Antonia, smiling sweetly as always. Her full lips wore a bright shade of lipstick and her face had been liberally powdered with foundation.

  Antoinette nodded. “Yep. Everything's fine. How are you two doing?” br />
  Antonia glanced over her shoulder at Isaac who seemed to be listening with a deaf ear to something Claude was saying.

  “Alright...I guess. We've been arguing all day.”

  Antoinette looked sorry. “Oh no. Why?”

  Godfrey put his arm around her waist and held her close.

  Antonia pursed her lips as though she was trying to prevent herself from saying something she wasn't supposed to. She glanced back at Isaac before returning her attention to Godfrey and Antoinette.

  “He had to shoot Rouge. Poor horse...broke its leg in a gofer hole.”

  “Jesus,” Godfrey muttered. “He loved that animal...”

  Antoinette looked horrified. “That's terrible.”

  Antonia nodded. “And he's been moping all day.”

  “Damn gofers,” said Henri.

  “Oh, Henri,” said Diana. “They're so helpless. They don't mean any harm.”

  Godfrey, Henri, and Antonia all rounded on her at the same time.

  “Dee – they killed a two hundred dollar horse!”

  “They're a bloody menace!”

  “Only good gofer is a dead one.”

  Diana looked offended. “They didn't do it on purpose! They don't go around digging holes to break horses' legs!”

  “It doesn't matter, Dee,” said Antonia abruptly, “the fact is Isaac had to put down one of our horses because of those little - ”

  “Antonia.”

  Isaac stood behind her, his face full of anger as he scanned their faces.

  “Isaac...”

  “So now you're telling everyone about Rouge?”

  “Who's Rouge?” asked Robert, having missed the first part of the conversation. “Isn't that the name of your horse, Isaac?”

  Isaac grimaced, clearly put off by the question.

  “It's...the horse is ill...that's all,” Antonia answered quickly. She glanced hesitantly at her husband.

  Robert nodded. “Well, Doctor Williams is pretty good – and he can probably see your horse tomorrow because he works weekends...a lot of these vets now, they don't work weekends.”

  “Which vets don't work weekends?” asked Claude, appearing beside them with Marie his arm.

  “Plenty,” Isaac answered, turning to face the dark-haired young man.

  “Well, that's just...stupid.”

  “Anyway,” Robert continued, “you can take your horse to Doctor Williams – he's in Irma. Godfrey's met him before. He was treating one of our Holstein's last year.”