The Whole Truth (5 page)

Maud looked confused. “But our father was Catholic, and we were baptized as Catholics. Are we allowed to change?”

Noni smiled. “Of course you are! And your mother was Anglican, although she never thought much of church. Don’t you think you should be the same religion as the rest of us?”

Maud shrugged. “I don’t care, and I’m sure Polly doesn’t either.”

Gregor took them on a tour of the island. They shuffled along the dusty road while he showed them what he called “the village”: a community hall, a gas station, the store, and the hotel. “My grandparents—that would be your
great
-grandparents, the MacGregors—ran the hotel when they first came to the island from Scotland,” he told them. “After they retired, Aunt Clara and Uncle Gilbert took over, until Uncle Gilbert died.”

Who was Uncle Gilbert? Polly wanted to ask. But she still couldn’t make her tongue form words.

Maud answered for her. “Gilbert was our grandfather, right?”

“Right! He died when Una was fifteen. I was only five, but I remember the funeral—everyone on the island came. And I remember Uncle Gil. He used to read poetry to me that I didn’t understand. He was kind, though.”

“Are you called Gregor because your mother’s last name was MacGregor?” asked Maud.

“Right again!” Gregor grinned. “Don’t get my ma on about the MacGregors, though. You’d think she still lived in Scotland. When I was a kid I had to wear a kilt! In the MacGregor tartan, of course.”

Maud giggled. “You wore a skirt?”

“Yup. Only for church, but I got teased so much she finally let me stop. She’ll probably make kilts for you as well—she’s a good seamstress. And watch out for Robbie Burns Day. You’ll have to eat the insides of a sheep! What do you think of
that,
Polly?”

Polly’s insides lurched. First deer, and now a sheep’s insides! But Gregor had such a mischievous glint in his eyes, maybe he was only teasing. She gave him a shy smile.

He softly pinched her nose. “Still not talking, are you, Pollywog … never mind, you will when you’re ready.”

They walked to the end of the long wharf and he took them out in what he called a “gasboat,” a small open boat with a motor. It slowly chugged to the lighthouse and back. Polly sat in the front, her hair blowing back, while they passed bays and coves and a few houses dotting the shore. Cold water sprayed in her face. She tried not to imagine what would happen if the boat tipped and they fell into the depths below.

“Look, a seal!” cried Maud. A face like a grey dog’s, with huge eyes, surfaced near them, then sank below the waves. Gregor pointed out two eagles soaring high above. Polly had never seen such enormous birds.

After they returned, Uncle Rand took the boat over to Walker Island to conduct a church service there. Gregor left to play tennis with a friend, Noni went upstairs for a nap, and Maud and Polly took some books out to a swinging chair on the verandah.

There was so much to look at that Polly couldn’t read. The sea was broken up by the sun into glittering jewels. Across the channel, on Walker Island, a man stood on the top of a cliff, so close that she could see his green hat. The only sounds were an occasional boat
putting along the passage, a car and some horses and buggies on the road, and the voices of people strolling by. A woman looked up at the house and waved, but Polly turned her face away.

“Maud, look!” breathed Polly. A group of deer glided onto the grass and began to nibble it. One was a stag with velvety antlers. Then a passing buggy scared them away.

“I can’t believe I’ll actually be at St. Winifred’s on Tuesday!” Maud said.

Maud had wanted to go to boarding school ever since she had discovered English novels about them at the library. In June, however, she’d thought she’d left school for good. This fall she had planned to start work as a housemaid for one of the rich ladies on Wellington Crescent.

Maud’s eyes glowed. “Just think, Polly … I could be dusting furniture and instead I’m going to boarding school! I’m so excited!”

“Aren’t you nervous too?” Polly asked.

“A bit. But I’m sure to like it, the courses and sports are so excellent. There are thirty boarders—I wonder how many girls are in each dorm?”

Polly shuddered. “Thirty! That’s a lot of new people to meet! Maud, you’ll be here again next weekend, right?”

“Not this coming weekend—I’ll only have been at school a few days. But after that, I’ll be home every weekend. You’ll barely notice I’m gone!”

Polly couldn’t return her grin.

Aunt Jean arrived for tea, which they had on the verandah because the afternoon was so warm. “I’m looking forward to Tuesday,” she
said. “There are lots of things we need in Victoria. The four of us will have a grand time shopping without the men, right, chickies?”

Gregor came back and they all walked him to the wharf, where he was catching the steamer to Vancouver. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, Pollywog!” he called.

Uncle Rand returned from his service and they made a light supper in the kitchen, since it was Mrs. Hooper’s afternoon off. Then the adults gathered around a card table in the living room and played a game called Bezique. They tried to teach the girls, but Polly didn’t understand it, and Maud was so excited about going to school that she couldn’t concentrate.

“Where exactly
is
Victoria?” she asked.

Uncle Rand took down a map from the bookshelf and spread it on the tea table. “Here it is—on the southern tip of Vancouver Island. And here’s where we took the ferry yesterday, and here’s our island.”

Polly leaned over Maud’s shoulder and studied the map. Kingfisher Island was part of a group of islands about halfway between Vancouver and Victoria. They looked tiny compared with huge Vancouver Island.

“It looks like a pig,” she whispered in Maud’s ear.

“Did you say something, Polly?” Uncle Rand asked gently.

When she didn’t answer, Maud said, “Polly thinks Kingfisher Island looks like a pig.”

“So it does!” said Aunt Jean from the card table. “A little pig on its side. And we live along its tummy! Show the girls
your
map, Rand.”

Uncle Rand got out a map that showed only the island. “I drew it myself,” he said proudly. He showed them where he had marked X’s for Noni’s house and the rectory and the church.

Noni put down her cards. “Let’s have a song or two,” she suggested. She sat down at the piano and they began to sing “Loch Lomond.” Then she went on to “There’s a Long Long Trail A-Winding.”

Maud belted out the words, but Polly was silent. Daddy had always loved singing; this was one of his favourites.

“You two had better go to bed now,” said Noni, and they were finally released.

That night Polly tumbled into sleep as if she were falling into a bottomless pit. She didn’t wake up until almost noon. After lunch she tried to read, but she couldn’t stop yawning. Noni suggested that she go back to bed. “Sleep is the best healer there is,” she told her.

When she woke up, Maud and Noni were in the room packing Maud’s suitcase. Polly sat up and watched them, trying to still the ache in her stomach. How would she ever cope without her strong, capable sister?

She stumbled through tea and dinner as if her numb body belonged to someone else. Finally it was time to go to bed again.

“Do you remember all the rules?” Maud asked Polly, after Noni had come up to kiss them good-night.

“Uh-huh,” whispered Polly.

“What are they?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Don’t think about it or Daddy. Don’t trust anyone except you. Be brave. Be polite.”

“Good. You forgot the last one, though—no crying.”

Polly exploded into sobs. “Oh, Maud, I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to stay here all by myself! I want to go
home!
I want everything to be like it was before!”

Maud got into bed with her. She cradled Polly until her sobs turned into hiccups. “Nothing will
ever
be like it was before, Doodle. I wish it could, but it can’t, and you just have to get used to it.”

“I want
Daddy!”
wailed Polly. “Oh, Maud, I want him so much!”

Maud stiffened. “Stop thinking about Daddy, Poll.”

“But—” Polly tried to catch her breath. “Don’t you—don’t
you
think about him?”

“Never. I’ve put him out of my mind, and that’s what you have to do. Go to sleep now, Doodle. Nothing is as bad as you think. Everybody here loves you. The island is a swell place, and I’ll be back soon.”

She rubbed Polly’s back the way she used to when Polly was small, then she got into her own bed. Polly clutched the bed rail and tried not to think.

But it was no use. Her mind kept trying to return to what had happened. To quiet it, she again remembered an earlier, happier time.

One Saturday, just before what the adults called “the crash,” Daddy had taken Polly and Maud and Grannie to Grand Beach to celebrate Polly’s sixth birthday. They’d had a car then. Daddy and Maud sat in the front seat and Polly snuggled up to Grannie in the back. For the whole long drive they bellowed out funny songs. Polly laughed so hard at “Yes, We Have No Bananas” that Grannie had to pat her on the back. They spent all day on the white stretch of sand or in the clear water. Daddy and Maud had swimming races and Polly paddled with Grannie. They ate the lunch Grannie had packed, and Maud helped Polly blow out the candles on her cake. Polly dozed all the way back, her head in Grannie’s lap. The car was like a cradle as Daddy crooned lullabies and took them safely back to the city through the darkness.

P
olly watched a long, sleek steamer approach the wharf. A small crowd watched as well; Noni explained that they were waiting for the mail. The few people who were going to Victoria stood out in their best clothes.

“Jean, I wish you wouldn’t wear that dreadful purple hat,” Noni told her. “It’s much too loud and it doesn’t match your suit.”

“Oh, Clara, don’t be such a Victorian!” retorted Aunt Jean.

“I
am
a Victorian,” said Noni.

“Nonsense, of course you aren’t!”

“I am, and you are too. We were both born while the old Queen was still alive.” She smiled. “Imagine that, hens—Jean and I have spanned two centuries!”

They climbed up a steep gangplank to the boat, which was bigger than the one they had taken from Vancouver, even though it carried no cars.

“Goodbye! Have a good time!” Uncle Rand waved to them from the wharf as the steamer drew away.

“He loves being on his own,” said Aunt Jean fondly as they settled into seats in the smoking room. “He gets so involved in writing his book that he forgets to eat!”

“He gets
too
involved,” said Noni. “I didn’t understand a word of Sunday’s sermon and no one else did either. All that theory went over everyone’s head! Can’t you suggest that he make his sermons simpler, Jean?”

Cigarette smoke curled out of Aunt Jean’s nostrils. “I’ve tried, but you know Rand. He’s obsessed by atonement theory—whatever
that
means!”

“Well, he should put his obsession into the book, and those who are interested, like Gregor, can read it there. Sermons are for daily matters, like being kind to your neighbour. I could do better myself!”

“Of course you couldn’t, Clara! And I think people are impressed by Rand’s sermons. They come away with something to think about, like a meaty bone to gnaw on during the week.”

“More like a
dry
bone,” said Noni.

Polly listened to their banter. She was beginning to realize that it was like a friendly tennis match—they actually enjoyed it.

The room was so smoky that Maud and Polly went outside, clutching their hats in the breeze. They passed many islands, some with houses on them and some uninhabited. Maud pointed out a group of seals lounging on a rocky point.

But Polly stared at Maud instead, trying to memorize her. Maud’s braids were especially tight and her face was shiny and pink. How could she look so happy when she was leaving Polly?

They had lunch in the dining room, and then the steamer approached Victoria. An enormous building like a castle loomed in front of them. All the passengers crowded onto the deck as it drew closer.

“That’s where we’re staying, chickies—the Empress Hotel,” Aunt Jean told them. “Isn’t it posh? I don’t know why Clara wants to waste her money on such luxury, but she insists, and who am I to argue with her? Anyway, the prices have gone down so much that it’s not so bad.”

They disembarked and crossed the street to the hotel. Polly gaped as they walked into the huge lobby, with its pillars and chandeliers. A young man wearing a red jacket with brass buttons carried their suitcases to their room.

The bedroom was even more splendid than the lobby, with a fitted carpet and long drapes and satin counterpanes on the twin beds. Just as Polly was wondering where
she
would sleep, Noni told her that the hotel would bring in a cot.

“Can we go shopping now?” asked Maud.

Aunt Jean laughed. “Yes, chickie, let’s go and get your uniform! Otherwise you’ll burst!” She and Noni powdered their noses, then they all went out.

Victoria was smaller than Winnipeg. The wide streets were flanked by low buildings and dotted with trees and streetlights. The fresh smell of the sea was everywhere. But, just like home, there weren’t many cars on the streets, and they passed several men begging for money.

They went straight to the fancy store that stocked the St. Winifred’s uniform. Polly sat in a chair while Maud tried on many things and checked them off on her list.

“I need
six
pairs of gymnasium hose,” she told the saleswoman. “And a felt hat
and
a straw one. And this scarf is the wrong colour!”

“Oh, my, that’s the scarf for Norwood House—I’m terribly sorry, dear,” said the saleswoman, who seemed entirely cowed by Maud.

Maud tried on the whole uniform. “You look splendid,” said Noni, but Polly thought she’d never seen such ugly clothes.

Maud wore a grey wool tunic that ballooned over its maroon belt. Under it was a stiff-collared white blouse and a mustard-coloured tie. A maroon blazer with a crest on its pocket, black stockings, and heavy, laced black shoes completed the outfit. On the chair beside her were a scratchy-looking grey coat, a maroon-and-mustard striped wool scarf, a mustard felt hat, and black gloves.