Author's Notes: 2 chapters within a week! I'm on a roll! Please leave a review when you're done.
With a sense of some satisfaction, V watches a news report that the Victory has been towed into port with a blown engine. It's also noted that the only female crew member was lost at sea during a squall and a brief interview with the captain explains what happened.
Interestingly, they also interview the first mate who claims that the woman actually was a spy that escaped on a Canadian fishing boat. Of course, the captain and the rest of the crew all deny this. They all state that the first mate had become romantically attached to her and her death has obviously caused him to become overly distraught.
Once he is satisfied that there is nothing new to be reported, V heads for his computer room where he hacks into the data base of the police station in Troon. He quickly finds the itemized list of possessions that the 'drowned' crew member left behind and he smiles. Out of all of the normal things, like clothing and toiletries, he notices that one item is conspicuous by its absence. Her guitar is not on the list.
Confident that his plan worked, he checks his secured email and right at the top is a message from his contact in Scotland. He quickly reads the message and has to admit that he hadn't seen the problem of the other ship not meeting them or the engine blowing up. While it disgruntles him that he wasn't able to predict these things happening, he has to be satisfied that everything has worked out to his satisfaction so far.
With that in mind, he gets back to the task of finishing getting things ready for his coming out party.
She watches the seagulls soaring over head, listening to their cries and tries not to think how the birds in Scotland looked and sounded a lot like these birds. She turns her attention instead down to the crew as they hustle about getting ready to put into port. She casts her gaze out across the frozen landscape and she's not sure if her shaking hands are due to excitement, fear or the biting cold.
"You ready, Audrey?" Johnny asks.
"As ready as Ah'll ever be," she answers as she looks over at the ship's captain. "Thank ya fo' takin' meh on board."
"It's the least I could do," he replies and then reaches for her guitar case. "Here, let me carry that for you."
She lets him take it, knowing full well it has nothing to do with chivalry. A short time later the ship is docked and the gang plank is slid into place. Johnny leads her over to it with his hand loosely on her arm, but before they can reach the exit, their way is blocked. A man with a Port Authority patch on his uniform steps on board followed by a couple policemen.
"I'm sorry, Audrey," Johnny says, a guilty look on his face. "I had to report I had picked you up or I could go to jail. I'm really sorry."
"It's alright," she assures him. "Ah would have been surprised if ya hadn't."
Unable to look at her, he hands over the guitar case to one of the officers as the other one puts her in handcuffs. He can't watch as they lead her away, his guilt gnawing at his gut. He goes to help unload their catch, pointedly ignoring his sister Lacey's glares.
"...but you may call me V," he says with an elegant bow to the woman huddled on the ground in front of him and trying to ignore the strange feelings stirring within him.
"Are you like a crazy person?" she blurts out.
"I'm sure there are some who will say so," he answers and he can hear Audrey snickering in the back of his mind. "But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking with?"
"I'm Evey," she answers
"Evey?" he asks, startled and then a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "E-V," he carefully sounds out and he can hear Audrey, as the departed Southern Belle would put it, bustin' a gut. "Of course you are."
"What does that mean?" she questions.
"It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences," he replies as he puts his hand out for her to take. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine," she responds as she takes his hand and lets him help her to her feet. "Thanks to you."
"Oh, I merely played my part," he tells her as he steps back to give her room and for some strange reason, he recalls Audrey's voice as she sang him one last song. "But tell me, do you enjoy music, Evey?"
A knock at the open office door brings the police chief's head up. He gives a sigh of relief as he gazes at the grim faced man in his doorway, hand still raised over the name plaque on the door that reads McTavish.
"James!" the chief gratefully greets. "Thank you so much for coming all the way up from Kingston."
James merely nods and the displeased look on his face doesn't leave.
"You're captain said you normally take today off, but I really need your help," McTavish tells him as he gets out of his chair and leaves his office, leading James further into the precinct. "The Port Authority brought this gal in from Quebec a few days ago. It seems she escaped from England and managed to go from a fishing boat out of Scotland onto one of ours out in the middle of the Atlantic. At any rate, this young lady claims that she was a slave there for almost nine years and she's now returning to North America. She's got a Southern accent and we haven't been able to catch her not using it. However, I'm getting pressure from higher up to prove that she is from the US or ship her back to England. You're her last hope of staying here, James. She's been very cooperative so far and she's very nice, but the brass wants a decision yesterday."
McTavish finishes his monologue just as they reach the dark side of a two way mirror that looks into a brightly light interrogation room and they can see a woman with bright red hair is handcuffed to the table in it. Even though she's supposed to be sitting in one of the chairs, she's instead sitting on the table with her back to the mirror. If that isn't peculiar enough, she's softly humming the Happy Birthday song to herself.
"Ok, let me get her talking and then you can tell me if she really is from the states," McTavish instructs.
He heads for the door, never seeing the strange look on James face.
"Good afternoon, Audrey," McTavish cheerfully greets as he comes into the room, shutting the door behind him so he never hears James sharp intake of breath. "Please sit in a chair."
She frowns at him before climbing off of the table and sitting in a chair, all the while keeping her back to the mirror.
"So, tell me what your life was like back in England," he starts.
She doesn't answer, but instead stares at the wall across from her.
"Ok, tell me about your life growing up," he instructs after many minutes of silence.
She makes no indication that she's heard him and doesn't even move though she has to be uncomfortable. Confused as to why this normally talkative woman is suddenly silent, he starts trying to think of things that will get her talking.
"Tell me about your first pet," he tries.
Again, he's met with silence.
"What was your favorite subject in school?" he asks, noting that's it's been close to half an hour since he entered the room.
Her lips remain still and he's starting to get impatient.
"What was your most memorable birthday present?" he inquires, nearly desperate and wondering if James is even still outside the room.
"Rehmember, rehmember, tha fifth o' November, tha gun powder treason an' plot," she says so softly that he can barely hear her. "Ah can theenk o' no reason tha gun powder treason should ever beh forgot."
"Um...could you repeat that a little louder?" he requests.
"Do ya know what today is, Mr. McTavish?" she asks, finally looking at the man and he can't say the look on her face is a happy one.
"It's...um...the fifth of November," he hesitantly answers.
"No, Mr. McTavish," she quietly snarls. "Today is my birthday. It's tha first birthday Ah've been able ta celebrate in ten years an' Ah'm spendin' it rottin' in one o' your jail cells like some common criminal!"
"Audrey, I'm sorry...," he starts.
Before he can get another word out, the door slams open and James stands there with a look that's a mixture of hope and disbelief. McTavish opens his mouth to reprimand the younger man, but a gasp from Audrey pulls his attention back to her. She's standing, trembling from head to foot and looking as if she's seen a ghost.
"It can't be," she whimpers as she tries to move away from James only to be stopped by the handcuff on her wrist. "Ya're dead. Ya'lls letters stopped comin'. Ya're dead."
She softly shuts the door to the kids' bedroom and then tries to slip past the living room, but to no avail.
"Have you heard from Jimmy yet, Debbie?" the old woman sitting on the couch demands as she glares at the front door.
"No Grandmother Catherine, I haven't," Debbie calmly responds despite having this conversation all day long.
"Why did work send him all the way to Ottawa?" Catherine testily asks. "He knows what today is."
"He said that they told him it was an emergency," Debbie replies as she quickens her steps. "I'm going to wash the dishes now."
She quickly makes her escape to the kitchen and starts loading the dish washer. She silently reflects on her husband's and his grandmother's strange obsession to celebrate her missing sister-in-law's birthday every year. He always takes the day off work and he and his grandmother spend the day talking about this long gone woman. To add to the weirdness, they end the day by singing "Happy Birthday" and eating a cake that Catherine makes herself.
She reminds herself that she married James for better or worse more than five years ago and it's times like this she wonders if it's worth it. She hears the shuffling gait of her grandmother-in-law coming into the dinning room and she quickly starts filling the sink with hot soapy water. She's not in the mood to listen to Catherine go on about her grandson's absence or her granddaughter's disappearance ten years ago.
"Grandmother?" James voice calls from the living room. "Debbie?"
"In the kitchen," Debbie calls back as she submerges the first pan and turns off the water.
"Jimmy! Where have you been?" Catherine snaps impatiently
"Ah'll explain in a minute," James says as he barges into the dinning room, a goofy grin on his face. "Please go wait fo' meh in tha livin' room."
Before Catherine can respond, he dashes off to the kitchen.
"What took you so long?" Debbie quietly growls as he wraps his arms around her middle from behind. "Your grandmother has been driving me crazy all day and you missed dinner."
"Tha most wonderful thang has happened," he tells her gleefully before planting a kiss on her neck. "Please, come ta tha livin' room."
"I'm in the middle of doing the dishes," she points out irritably.
"Tha dishes can wait," he states as buries his nose in her hair. "Please, Debs, this is important."
"Fine," she grumbles and then reaches for a towel to dry off her hands.
She follows him into the living room and he's bouncing around like a giddy school boy. She can't help but smile at his energy and obvious happiness. James makes sure that his grandmother is comfortably seated facing the front door before heading for that portal.
"Jimmy, what is going on?" Catherine huffs, very unhappy with her grandson.
"A miracle," he states as he opens the front door.
Standing there is a red haired, green eyed woman looking both excited and afraid. She first glances at James and then over to Debbie, giving James' wife a shy smile. When her gaze lands on Catherine, her eyes get incredibly large and she gasps in surprise.
"Grandmother?" the woman whispers.
"Audrey?" Catherine responds in a shaky voice. "But how? Where have you been?"
"London, England," James answers as he pulls his sister into the house and then takes her guitar case from her.
"But how?" Catherine repeats, the shock still evident in her voice while Audrey stumbles over to her. "You're face...it's...different."
With a great gasping sob, Audrey drops to her knees and starts crying into her hands.
"There, there, child, it's alright," Catherine quickly assures Audrey as she leans forward and pulls the young woman towards her. "You're just as beautiful as I remember."
Debbie watches in stunned amazement as her husband puts the case off to the side and then gets down on his knees next to his long lost sister. She doesn't remember the last time she ever saw him cry like this, but the tears are flowing freely down his face now. She's barely even aware of the wetness on her own cheeks while her husband pulls his grandmother and sister into his embrace.
"Mommy?" a small voice calls from the hallway.
Debbie turns to see her oldest child standing there blinking against the bright light and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
"Chrissy, sweetie, what are you doing up?" Debbie gently admonishes.
"I heard voices," Chrissy answers.
"I'm sorry we woke you up, honey," Debbie says as she goes over to the girl and picks her up.
"Why are Daddy and Grammy crying?" Chrissy asks. "And who's the pretty lady?"
"Daddy and Grammy are crying because they're very happy," Debbie explains and Chrissy frowns at her.
"But you're only supposed to cry when you're sad, not when you're happy," Chrissy states in that final tone of four year old wisdom.
"I know, sweetheart, but sometimes when you're so very, very happy, your joy comes out as tears," Debbie tries to explain.
"That doesn't make no sense," Chrissy grumbles.
"That doesn't make any sense," Debbie corrects with a smile. "I know it's confusing, but that's the way it is."
"Who's the lady?" Chrissy asks again.
"The lady," James answers, finally getting up off the floor and coming over to them, "is ya're Aunt Audrey."
"But I thought Aunt Audrey wasn't here anymore," Chrissy states in confusion.
"She is now, pet," he happily tells her as he takes her into his arms and cuddles her. "She is now."
He carries her over to Audrey and Catherine who have remained completely oblivious to the exchange going on in the same room. The tears have finally slowed down, they they haven't completely stopped. Audrey still sits on the floor with her head on her grandmother's lap while Cathrine gently strokes her red hair.
"Audrey," he softly calls and his sister looks up at him with red rimmed eyes.
"Ya'll have a little one?" Audrey asks in surprise upon seeing the child in his arms.
"Sis, this is Christina Audrey Mary, my daughter," he introduces as he gets back down on the floor. "Chrissy, this is ya'lls Aunt Audrey."
"Oh Jimmy, she's beautiful," Audrey gasps. "An' ya named her after Momma, sissy and me?"
"It was tha least Ah could do," he replies with a sad smile.
"She talks like you do, Daddy," Chrissy states and the adults chuckle. "Is she the one Grammy made the cake for?"
"She most certainly is," Catherine answers.
"Does that mean we can eat it now?" Chrissy eagerly asks.
"Ya'll made meh a cake?" Audrey questions in bewilderment.
"I've made a cake for you on your birthday for the past ten years," Catherine admits. "I had prayed that some day you'd return to us and now my prayers have been answered."
"Ah'm sorry," Audrey whispers just before she drops her face in Catherine's lap and starts crying again.
Confused and upset by her aunt's sudden tears, Chrissy wraps her arms around James' neck and starts sniffling. James quickly gets up and heads for his wife, but finds that she's gone. Before he can go searching for her, she steps out of the kids' room with their son in her arms.
Feeling as if his heart may burst right out of his chest, he pulls his wife and son to him with his free arm. He holds them close and buries his nose in Debbie's hair, silently praying that this isn't some really vivid dream. When he finally opens his eyes again, his wife and children are still in his arms and his sister is helping their grandmother to her feet. Audrey looks over at James and then sees the little boy in his wife's arms.
"Who's this li'l un?" Audrey asks, before scowling at her brother. "An' ya still haven't introduced meh ta ya wife."
"Sorry, sis," James says with a grin. "This is my wife Debbie an' our son Steven Thomas. He'll be two in a couple weeks."
"It's so nice ta meet ya'll," Audrey says to Debbie, Stevie and Chrissy before turning her attention back to James. "Ya named 'im after Poppa and li'l brother. Ya got any more li'l uns hidin' somewhere?"
"Nope, just these two," James assures her with a laugh.
"Can we have cake now?" Chrissy asks impatiently and all the adults laugh.
Soon everyone moves into the dinning room and 'Happy Birthday' is sung to a teary eyed Audrey. Just the simple pleasure of eating her birthday cake with her family makes it seem like the last ten years were all just a really bad dream. All too soon everything is cleaned up and the kids are put back to bed, but the adults can't seem to relax despite the herbal tea they're drinking to help them get to sleep.
"Why were you in England?" Debbie finally asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Now that tha li'l uns are in bed, Ah guess now's as good a time as any ta tell ya'll what happened," Audrey softly admits while staring into her nearly empty cup.
With that, she tells them how she came to be in England without giving them the more horrific moments that she's seen in the past ten years. She gives them only barest details of what she was put through for training, not giving them the details of what she was trained for. Her being sold and shipped overseas and the operations performed on her.
She can't help but smile as she talks about the twins and even Ruth. She pauses before telling them about the night Michael Oliver Jones died and her first meeting with the man that would change her life. They wait patiently as she gathers her thoughts about V and her life with him.
"Ah suppose it doesn't matter here in Canada," she states after a few moments. "It's not like anybody can stop that man once he sets his mind ta it. V is a force o' nature unto 'imself an' it's just as well that he's over there."
"V? As in the letter 'V'?" James questions. "What kind o' name is that?"
"It was the only name he gave meh an' Ah wasn't about ta ask fo' another un," she tells him.
She then proceeds to tell them of how V came into her life and how he changed it forever. Once she's done, it's close to midnight and they decide that any questions can wait. With their minds still spinning at the events of the evening, they go off to bed, each knowing that sleep will be a long time in coming.