The Lights Go On Again (10 page)

“Norah's going to watch them,” smiled Aunt Mary. “Paige phoned and asked her. Aren't you, Norah dear …”

Norah looked indifferent. “I guess so. Gavin can come with us if he wants.”

Aunt Florence shook her head. “I think you've had enough excitement, pet. And I've hardly seen you all day! You can watch the fireworks from here.”

“But how?”

She smiled mysteriously. “You'll see. You'll have a better view than anyone in Toronto!”

When Paige called for Norah she looked as if she wanted to change her mind about going out. But Paige dragged her away before she could refuse.

Then Aunt Florence led Aunt Mary and Gavin up the back stairs to the former maid's room. Gavin stared at it curiously. When he'd first come here there had been a sulky live-in maid called Edith. But Edith had left to work in an airplane factory and Aunt Florence had never found a replacement.

Now Aunt Florence stood on a chair and pushed open a trap door in the roof. A ladder swung down. She laughed at Gavin's surprised face. “Come on, pet—you'll have to go first and help us up.”

Gavin scurried up the ladder and stepped onto—the top of the house! There was a flat roof area covered with a thin layer of gravel. He leaned back into the cavity and pulled up the chairs they handed him. Then he gave a hand to Aunt Mary and together they heaved up the bulk of Aunt Florence.

“I didn't know you could come up here!” said Gavin. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Aunt Florence chuckled. “Because I didn't want you—or your unruly sister—to come up on your own. You're never to do that, do you understand? It's a very long way down.”

Gavin nodded reluctantly. He explored the whole of the roof while his guardians set up the chairs. Then the three of them sat in a row and looked down at the lit-up city.

The Ogilvies' house was one of the tallest in the neighbourhood. A sea of black roofs and green treetops was spread out below them in the dusk. Gavin could see the Worsleys' yard, where Thistle raced around yapping. Daphne came out and called him and Gavin smiled to himself. She didn't know she was being watched.

“Hugh and I sometimes came up here,” said Aunt Mary. “On the maid's day off.”

“What?” Aunt Florence stared at her daughter. “I didn't know you even knew about it!”

“Hugh found the door when he was twelve and I was nine. We came up for years. Once even at night!”

“Mary! I simply cannot believe you would do such a thing!” spluttered Aunt Florence—as if Aunt Mary were
still
nine.

“Well, we did.”

Aunt Mary smiled calmly at her mother and, very slowly, Aunt Florence smiled back. “I guess I can't do anything about it now. That Hugh …” she added sadly, gazing at Gavin in the hungry way she always did when she mentioned her son.

“The fireworks are starting!” said Gavin. A silvery fountain burst in the distance, then a blue streak and a pink star. The screeches and crackles reached them a little later than the flashes, like a movie where the sound didn't match the picture. After the fireworks they could hear sirens, ringing church bells and faint, distant singing.

“The lights will be blazing in England tonight,” said Aunt Florence. “Your grandfather and sisters will be glad of that, Gavin.”

“The European war over at last,” sighed Aunt Mary. “Now if they can just finish the war with Japan as well, maybe that will be an end to this madness. It's hard to feel happy when it's brought so much tragedy. Especially to you and Norah, Gavin.” She pounded the arm of her chair. “Oh,
when
will people ever learn that war doesn't solve anything?”

The other two stared at this unusual outburst. “Now, Mary … let's count our blessings,” said Aunt Florence. “We got rid of that brutish Hitler. Gavin and Norah were free from danger in Canada. Andrew is safe. And Gavin was too young to be in it. Let's hope you'll
never
have to be in a war, sweetness.” She patted his knee. Gavin was once again surprised that she was not saying anything about him going back to England.

He looked up at both of them: ridiculous, loving Aunt Florence, and good Aunt Mary. These two women were his parents now. He got up and pretended to look at some revellers coming home from the fireworks, but he was blinking back tears. How could he leave them?

T
HE NEXT DAY
—the
official
VE Day—Gavin and Tim and Roger went downtown again but it was quieter than the day before. They bicycled to Queen Street and watched a parade, then went to Tim's house for lunch.

“I want to show you something,” Tim told them, after his mother had gone out with his younger brothers. He led Gavin and Roger to his parents' room and pulled out a magazine from under the mattress.

“I heard Mum tell Dad she was going to hide this from us,” said Tim. “So I sneaked in and found it.”

Gavin recognized the cover. “Why would your parents hide
Life
?”

“This issue is so creepy, I guess they thought it would scare us. It is scary. Are you brave enough to look?”

Of course the other two had to say they were. They knelt on the floor and leaned on the bed while Tim opened the magazine. Then they stared in silence, while he slowly turned the pages.

The full-page photographs were of bodies. Terrible, emaciated, naked bodies.
Hundreds
of bodies. In one picture they were being shovelled into a mass grave.

Gavin swallowed. “But—but who are they?” he croaked.

“It says they're in some camps in Germany called Belsen and Buchenwald,” said Tim, sounding out the names with difficulty. “But it doesn't say who they are or why they're dead. Or why there's so many of them.”

Gavin turned back the pages and read some of the text. “It says they're ‘slave labourers.' What does that mean?”

“I didn't know the Germans had slaves,” said Tim. “Do you think they were Allies?”

“We could ask a grown-up,” said Roger.

“But then they'd find out we were looking at this when we weren't supposed to,” said Tim.

They continued to stare at the hideous pages. Gavin shivered. “Let's put it away. Maybe one day we'll find out who they are.”

Tim shoved the magazine under the mattress and they went out to play in the sunshine.

9

A Proposal

“
G
avin, I'd like to talk to you in my room,” said Aunt Florence the next evening.

Gavin finished putting on his pyjamas and went in to sit on the soft loveseat in her bedroom. Aunt Florence sank down beside him. “You may have noticed,” she began, “that I've been out a lot lately.”

Now that he thought of it, she had gone downtown for many “appointments” in the past few weeks. But Aunt Florence was often out, visiting friends or meeting with one of her charity groups.

“I've been working out a plan, Gavin, and now I need your advice. It's an idea that came to me as soon as we heard about your parents. It wouldn't have been appropriate to bring it up then. But now it's time, especially since the war's over.”

“What is it?”

“I know that Norah has to return to England,” said Aunt Florence slowly. “She's never felt totally at home in Canada, although she's adjusted as well as she could. It's understandable that she wants to go back. She was old enough when she left to remember her own country.”

She paused. “But you're different, Gavin. You feel like a Canadian now—am I right?”

Gavin nodded. What was she getting at?

“And I think you're happy living with Mary and me.” Her eyes gleamed, knowing the answer.

“Of course!”

“I know you are,” she said warmly. “From the moment you came here you belonged—much more than Norah did. Now, Gavin, I'm going to ask you something that will startle you. You don't have to answer right away.” She put both her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Would you like to stay in Canada and live with me always?”

Gavin started to shiver, the joy that filled him was so intense. “Stay in Canada? But how?”

“You've been like a son to me these past years. Now I'd like you to be my
real
son. I want to adopt you, Gavin. I would never have suggested this, of course, when your parents were alive. I knew it was going to be difficult for you to return, but they were your parents—you belonged with them. But now that they've gone, you can stay here! If you'd like to, of course.”

Gavin took a deep breath. “Could you adopt Bosley too?”

Aunt Florence threw back her head and laughed. “Of course I'll adopt Bosley, you funny boy! I know Reg would give him to you for good. Everything would be the same. You and Bosley would keep on living here with Mary and me and you'd become a real Canadian.”

“But what about
Norah
?”

“That's the hard part, pet,” said Aunt Florence gently. “You and Norah would be separated. I know how much you love your sister. But she's growing up. She'll be leaving you one day anyway. We would certainly have her back to Canada whenever she wanted to come. And we could visit her often in England.”

“But why can't you adopt Norah too?”

Aunt Florence sighed. “I would. I really would, Gavin, despite our differences, but you know she wouldn't want it. She wants to return to England and I don't blame her.”

Gavin thought of something else. “Will my grandfather
let
you adopt me?”

“You've hit upon the one problem we might have. No, he might not let me, and if he objects I won't be able to—he's your legal guardian now.” A familiar stubborn expression appeared on her face. “But I think I can persuade him—him and your older sisters and maybe even Norah. I'll see that you get a good education. In grade seven you can start St. Martin's, which is the best boys' school in Ontario. And then university. And you could take piano lessons and French lessons—you'll have every advantage. And, most important—you would become my heir.”

“Your air?” said Gavin. “What does that mean?”

“It means that one day—along with Mary, of course—you'll inherit this,” smiled Aunt Florence, waving her hand around her. “Surely your family wouldn't want to deny you
that
.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “I know this is a lot for you to take in, pet. I don't want you to give me an answer yet. Think about it until the weekend, all right?”

“But can't I tell Norah?”

“If you want. But I don't think you should tell her until you're sure of your decision. You know she'll be against it. Why wouldn't she? And this is a secret, all right? I've told Mary, but I don't think you should discuss it with anyone else but Norah.”

Gavin could hardly make it into bed, he was so stunned. He put down one arm and fondled Bosley, grinning into the darkness.

He didn't need any time to think about it. He had never wanted anything as much in his life. If Aunt Florence adopted him everything would stay the same! He could keep Bosley! He would be safe and secure in Canada instead of living in a scary country where people had been killed by bombs. There would be no Norah, but as wave after wave of relief swept over Gavin he tried not to think about that.

F
OR THE REST OF THE WEEK
Gavin thought he would burst with the excitement of Aunt Florence's proposal. “We'll be able to keep going to Gairloch every summer, Boz,” he whispered to the dog. “We'll always know Tim and Roger. Next year you can go in the Dog Show again, and this time you'll win!”

He didn't think he wanted to go to a posh boys' school and wear a uniform, but that was two years away. Maybe by then he could talk Aunt Florence out of it.

The future, which had been a black tunnel, now seemed like a long vista of sunny days. Gavin walked around holding a bubble of happiness inside him. Every time he looked at Aunt Florence or Aunt Mary they exchanged secretive smiles. He knew that Aunt Florence guessed what he'd decided, but he'd promised to wait until the weekend to tell her.

And he
should
talk to Norah before then. But every time he began to climb the stairs to her room he thought of a reason to wait until later. In the daytime it was easy to revel in the joy of staying in Canada. But at night he twisted in his sheets, thinking about Norah.

If only she could stay too! But he knew she wouldn't, not even for him. He tried to reassure himself with what Aunt Florence had said—that Norah would be leaving him anyway. She was getting as grown-up as his other sisters. One day she might get married, like Muriel, or get a job, like Tibby.

But Norah was the only sister he knew. She was his best friend. How could he face those clear eyes and tell her he was staying behind?

He could picture exactly how she'd react. They were so different from each other. Norah always knew what she wanted. She was so sure about everything, so brave. He was so wishy-washy … such a coward.

He couldn't tell her.

“I've decided,” he announced to Aunt Florence on Saturday morning. “I'll stay. I'll stay and be your son.”

“Oh, Gavin.” Aunt Florence clasped him so hard that Gavin couldn't breathe. “Let go!” he laughed.

She loosened her hold. There were tears in her eyes. “You have made me very, very happy. And I'll make
you
happy, you'll see. You'll be the happiest boy in Canada!” she crowed, kissing him firmly on each cheek.

“There's still Norah and Grandad,” Gavin reminded her.

“Did you talk to Norah?”

Gavin hung his head. “I couldn't,” he whispered. “Could
you
tell her?”

For a second a flicker of fear passed over Aunt Florence's face. Then she straightened her blouse and said briskly. “All right, pet. Why don't you send her down to me right now? We might as well get this over with.”