The Whole Truth (8 page)

Every morning she and Noni had taken turns reading aloud a very hard book called
Waverley.
Polly didn’t understand much of it, but Noni said she was an excellent reader. This morning, to Polly’s relief, they talked instead.

“Where did you and Aunt Jean live in Scotland?” she asked as she and Noni sipped their tea.

“A place called Stirling. It’s a beautiful town between Edinburgh
and Glasgow. I really missed it at first. But on the only occasion I went back to visit, after Gilbert and I were married, I realized I belonged here.”

“Gilbert is my grandfather, right?” asked Polly, remembering what Gregor had told them. She curled up on the pillow next to Noni. Listening to her was like reading a story.

“Yes, he was. How I wish he could have met you and Maud! He was a dear man, gentle and witty. But he died when your mother was fifteen. Una became uncontrollable after that. She adored her father. She never listened to me, but when Gilbert asked her to do something, she usually obeyed him.”

Noni was speaking to her as if she were a grown-up! “Was my grandfather from the island, like Uncle Rand?” Polly asked.

“No, Gilbert was English. He came to British Columbia as a young man and taught in one of the boys schools in Victoria. Jean and I were spending the weekend there with our parents and I met Gilbert at a dance at the Empress Hotel. After we married he helped my parents with the hotel, and after they died we both ran it. He also tutored young people who were applying for university. When Gilbert’s parents died and he came into his inheritance, he wanted us to move to Devon and live in the family home, but I couldn’t bear leaving here. Sometimes I wonder if I was wrong. Gilbert really missed the theatre and concerts and the cultured life we would have had in England. He was a very intelligent man. He’s the one who got me interested in poetry—he knew a lot by heart, and he wrote some poetry himself.” Noni’s voice was animated. “Pass me those albums on the table, Polly—I’ll show you some photos of Gilbert and Una.”

Polly gazed at long-ago images of her grandparents and her mother. They had all been taken on the island—standing outside
the hotel, or picnicking, or waving from the steamer. Gilbert and Noni made a handsome couple. He was tall and distinguished with a curling moustache. Noni looked much more relaxed, with her long hair around her shoulders, always smiling or laughing at the camera.

Seeing Una through the years was like gazing into a mirror. She looked almost exactly like Polly, except that Una’s expression was often sullen and rebellious. The last photograph was of Una dressed in a coat and hat and carrying a suitcase.

“That’s when she was leaving to visit Blanche Tuttle in Winnipeg,” said Noni. “She was just seventeen,” she added tightly.

Polly closed up the album. “Are there any more?” she asked.

“That’s all,” said Noni.

“But what about my parents’ wedding?” asked Polly.

Noni looked away. “I’m sorry, hen, but we didn’t get around to taking any photographs at the wedding.”

If only there had been a photo of Daddy! Polly didn’t have any of him. There were a few albums in their house in Winnipeg, but no one had thought of packing them.

Noni’s voice trembled. “Every night I lie awake and think about Una and Gilbert. You never stop missing people, Polly—but you know about that. And now I have you and Maud to love.”

She took Polly’s hand. “Let’s think of something more cheerful than missing people. Do you know what I do when I get too sad? I think about all there is to
learn
in this world—poetry and flower names and songs, all the things I want to paint. But enough about me! Tell me, hen, is there anything special you’d like for your birthday?”

Her birthday! Polly had completely forgotten that next Thursday she would turn ten. She shook her head. The only present she wanted was Daddy—and that was impossible for anyone to get.

“Well, you let me know. Now, I must get up. You can help me pick some flowers to welcome Maud.”

The day went by far too slowly. Polly helped Noni pick flowers. She swept out her and Maud’s bedroom, and helped Mrs. Hooper make a chocolate cake. After dinner she sat on the verandah, willing Maud’s boat to appear.

Finally she and Noni walked to the wharf. The sky was streaked with pink as the steamer glided around the point. As it grew nearer, Polly spotted Maud standing on the deck. She was in her uniform, waving madly.

“Maud, Maud!” called Polly, jumping up and down.

A few minutes later Maud’s strong arms were around her.

In ten days Maud had become as jolly a schoolgirl as a character in one of her books. All she talked about was St. Winifred’s.

She told Polly every detail about the five other girls in her dorm: Mary, Sylvia, Edith, Sadie, and Ann. “Sadie’s such a brick—we’re already best friends. She’s really good at games and she thinks I can get on the hockey team—isn’t that nifty? Her parents live in Duncan and she has a horse! She’s going to ask me there for part of the Christmas holidays—do you think Noni would let me go?”

They were walking along the beach. Polly picked up a stone and hurled it into the water. All week she had hoped that Maud would dislike St. Winifred’s so much she’d decide not to go back. But now Maud seemed to belong to her school more than to Polly.

“Some of the matrons are really grumpy, but our dorm has the nicest. Her name is Miss Jacob and she’s in love with a man who works in a store—she sees him every Sunday. Miss Jacob braids my
hair for me. Oh, and Poll, the Guppy had me for tea in her study on Wednesday afternoon! Four other girls came too. Edith says that if you’re asked for tea, it means you’re one of her favourites! Imagine me being asked so soon, and I was the youngest! Two of the others are prefects! And I’m going to have special Latin classes with the Guppy because I’ve never taken it before. She’s really pleased with how I’m doing in my other courses, though.”

Polly decided she hated the Guppy. “Don’t you think she’s kind of bossy?” she asked.

“Not at all! She’s strict, but that’s because she’s helping us live up to St. Winnie’s ideals. Some of the day girls are afraid of her, but all the boarders know how kind she really is. At tea she told us stories about her boarding school in England. She had to go when she was only five, because her mother was ill. Isn’t that sad? She loved the school, though, and she became games captain
and
head girl.”

Polly thought of a way to change the subject. “Guess what, Maud. I’m a vegetarian now!”

“What?” Maud frowned. “That’s not good for you, Doodle. You’re skinny enough as it is. You need meat.”

“I won’t eat it!” said Polly proudly.

“What does Noni think?”

“She hasn’t said anything—maybe she hasn’t noticed yet.”

Maud shrugged. “Well, she’ll probably stop you when she does. Poll, next week I get my house pin! I’m so glad I’m in Sussex. Sylvia is too, and she says it’s the best house. Agnes Cooper is my house captain, and she’s swell.”

Polly finally got Maud’s attention by telling her how afraid she was to start school on Monday.

“But haven’t you gone yet?” Maud asked. Polly explained how Noni had let her stay home another week.

Maud frowned. “That’s not right—you’re going to be really far behind! You
knew
I didn’t want you to stay home, Poll. You should have remembered that, not listened to Noni.”

“Noni says
she’s
in charge of me now, not you,” said Polly haughtily. “Anyway, you’re not here.”

Maud looked guilty. Then she began telling Polly how she was going to try out for the house play.

Listening to Maud talk about St. Winifred’s was like learning about a foreign country she didn’t want to visit. Polly was almost relieved when Gregor arrived on Saturday morning.

Gregor had to work hard on the weekends he came home from Vancouver—he cut wood and shot grouse and did whatever other jobs his mother had waiting for him. After he’d finished his work he announced that he was going to teach Maud and Polly how to row.

Maybe this was just another task on Aunt Jean’s list, but Polly was glad to have an excuse not to listen to Maud’s monologue. And she was beginning to enjoy Gregor. He was easy to be with, and she liked how he called her “Pollywog.”

Maud was good at rowing, but Polly kept splashing the heavy oars. Gregor had brought along fishing rods. He showed them how to bait their hooks with cut-up herring. Maud was explaining St. Winifred’s house point system to Gregor. “If you get five order marks—that’s for doing something against the rules—you get a conduct mark. Then you have to—oh! I got a bite!”

Order marks were forgotten as Maud eagerly reeled in her first cod. Then she got three more. “You’re a born fisherwoman!” Gregor told her.

Then Polly caught a fish. It was exciting to feel its sharp tug and to shorten the line until Gregor scooped it into the net. But when Gregor banged its head on the side of the boat, its bright eye turned dull.

I promise I won’t eat you,
vowed Polly.

“It’s so hot!” said Gregor, wiping his brow after they landed the rowboat. “What do you say to a swim? The sea can be quite warm in September. Do you have bathing costumes?”

Maud nodded.

“Meet me here in ten minutes,” said Gregor as they helped him pull the boat to the shore.

Polly pulled her towel around herself and shivered, despite the hot afternoon sun. The sea looked so cold and wavy and deep—what lurked under it?

“Come on, Pollywog!”

“I don’t know how to swim,” said Polly.

“Then I’ll teach you!” Gregor held out his hand and Polly had no choice but to drop her towel and wade in beside him. Maud held her other hand. The water was icy but bearable, and she got used to it as they waded deeper.

Maud dropped Polly’s hand and lunged into the water, kicking vigorously as she swam away.

“Lie out flat on the water,” Gregor told Polly. “I’ll hold my hand under your tummy.”

“I don’t want to,” said Polly.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Pollywog. I’ll hold you up and I won’t let you go unless you tell me to.”

“No, thank you,” said Polly.

Maud swam back. “Come on, Doodle, it’s easy! How about if
I
hold you?”

Polly looked at their eager faces and tried to be brave. Then she gazed down at the clear greenish water. Tiny fish were swarming in
it—what if they bit her? She turned her back on Maud and Gregor and splashed to the shore.

At Sunday dinner Maud put down her knife and fork and made a plea. “Noni, do you think I could stay at school next weekend? The boarders are going to Sooke for a picnic—I’ll be the only one to miss it.”

“Next weekend? But on Saturday we’re celebrating Polly’s birthday!”

“Oh, Polly, I’m sorry—I completely forgot!” Polly watched Maud struggle to conceal her disappointment.

It was one thing for Polly to forget her own birthday. It was quite another for Maud to! And Polly could tell that she would rather stay at school. “You don’t have to come,” she mumbled.

“Of course she’ll come!” said Noni. “You are a weekly boarder, Maud, not a full-time one. I know there are events at the school on weekends, but your family is more important.”

“Yes, Noni,” said Maud, but she looked what Daddy used to call “Maudish.”

“Polly, you haven’t touched your pork! Eat up now—we need to put some meat on your bones,” said Aunt Jean.

For many days Polly had got away with not eating meat, but now she felt too glum to resist. She put a bit of crackling into her mouth—it was delicious.
I’ll tell them I’m a vegetarian later,
she decided.

Maud was travelling back to Victoria with Bill Forest, a friend of Gregor’s, who was attending university there. “You watch him,
Maud,” teased Gregor. “He’s likely to load you up with cigarettes for your chums.”

“Gregor!” scolded his mother.

“Smoking is against the rules,” said Maud primly.

Polly sat in their room and watched Maud pack. Mrs. Hooper had given her a lot of good things for her tuck box: cookies and apples and a lemon cake.

“What’s a tuck box?” asked Polly. She didn’t care what it was, but she had to squeeze every bit of Maud she could out of this last hour.

“It’s a box I keep in the dining room cupboard,” explained Maud. “Every Thursday before we go to bed we’re allowed to share what’s in our boxes. Last week I didn’t have anything, so I’m glad to have this cake! Ann’s mother sent her one, but it crumbled in the mail. Did I tell you that Ann’s from Portland? She’s the first American I’ve ever met.”

“Maud, I really wouldn’t mind if you stayed next weekend,”

Polly lied.

“That’s all right, Doodle. I wouldn’t miss your birthday party for anything!” Maud sounded sincere, and Polly felt better. But then Maud added, “After next weekend, though, I’m going to try to convince Noni to let me be a full-time boarder. I’ll get Miss Guppy to write her a letter. I’m the only one who doesn’t stay, and I miss too much. I’m sure Noni will realize that when the Guppy writes.”

“But Maud—”

Maud looked at her. “I know you want me here, Doodle. But you’re just going to have to accept it. Anyway, you seem fine. You’re talking to them now, and you’re eating more, even meat! How about the rules—are you keeping them?
I
am. And I
never
think about Daddy. Do you?”

“Sometimes.”
Always,
Polly added to herself. “Oh, Maud, how I can help thinking about Daddy, when—”

“Polly! You promised! You can’t think about him
at all,
do you understand?”

Polly nodded, but pain stabbed her insides.

“Once you start school tomorrow it will be easier,” Maud told her. “You’ll have new friends to think about instead, just like I do. What’s rule number four?”

“Be brave,” whispered Polly.

“Right. Just be brave and you’ll be fine!”

How could Maud find everything so easy? Just as Polly had begun to feel a little bit safe, everything was scary again.

P
olly couldn’t eat more than a few spoonfuls of her porridge. “Poor mite, you’re nervous about school, aren’t you?” said Mrs. Hooper. “Don’t you worry. My grandsons, George and Percy, go there and they like it fine. The new teacher isn’t at all strict, they tell me.”