A Perfect Gentle Knight Read online

Corrie swallowed. “I liked her a lot. She was really nice to us. But … well, her cousin was sick. So she went back to Winnipeg to look after her.”

  She could never say the other reason Aunt Madge had left. If only Meredith would stop asking so many questions!

  Luckily Meredith was distracted by a large, shaggy grey cat sauntering into the room. “Oh, she’s beautiful!” cried Meredith. “What’s her name?”

  “He … Hamlet,” said Corrie. She jumped up and buried her face in the cat’s fur. “Hamlet because he’s a pig!”

  Hamlet mrawwed as Corrie dropped him heavily on Meredith’s lap.

  “You’re so lucky! A dog would be better, but cats are almost as great. Oh, I wish my father wasn’t allergic to animals! Is Hamlet yours?”

  “He’s supposed to belong to all of us, but he likes Harry best.” Corrie watched Meredith tickle Hamlet’s ears. Hope flickered in her. Meredith was snoopy, but it was fun having her sitting here. Corrie hadn’t had a friend in her room since she was eight.

  “What a funny name he has,” said Meredith, rolling Hamlet onto his back and stroking his stomach. Hamlet purred like a well-stoked engine.

  “He’s named after a play by Shakespeare. We all are.” Now Corrie actually felt like telling Meredith more about her family.

  “You are? I don’t know a thing about Shakespeare,” confessed Meredith.

  “I don’t know much. But I know the names of all the plays our names are from.”

  “Corrie is in a play? That’s neat!”

  “Cordelia. That’s my real name. It’s from King Lear. Sebastian is from Twelfth Night, Roz is Rosalind in As You Like It, Harry is from Henry IV, Orly is Orlando from As You Like It, and Juliet is from Romeo and Juliet.”

  “‘Cordelia’ is much more interesting than ‘Meredith.’”

  “‘Meredith’ is more normal. We all envy Harry—he got the most ordinary name.”

  As if on cue, Harry wandered in.

  “This is Meredith,” Corrie told him, wishing he didn’t look so solemn.

  Harry nodded at Meredith, squatted on the rug, and started wolfing down crackers as fast as he could spread them with peanut butter.

  “Are you feeling better?” Corrie asked him.

  Harry wiped his nose on a sleeve that was already encrusted with mucus. “A bit. I’ll go back to school tomorrow. The Elephant yells too much. My sea monkeys have hatched, Corrie. Want to see them?”

  They went into Harry’s room and stared at dozens of tiny white dots swimming around in a jar. “They don’t look at all like monkeys,” said Corrie.

  “Maybe they will when they get bigger,” said Harry.

  “I sent away for some of those,” said Meredith. “My dad says they’re just bugs.”

  They stared at the jar sadly. “What a gyp!” said Harry. “I spent all my allowance on them!”

  “Never mind,” said Meredith. “Maybe they’ll grow into some weird kind of beetle or spider.”

  Harry gave her one of his rare smiles. He pulled out a large paper bag from under the bed. “Want to see my bottle-cap collection? I have two hundred and twenty-seven!” He started spreading them on the floor. “They’re all numbered inside, see? I have a list.”

  “Do you want to tour the house?” Corrie asked quickly, before Harry could begin his endless bottle-cap litany.

  First she showed Meredith the long narrow storage closet under the eaves that was packed with old suitcases and boxes. Meredith rummaged her way to the far end. Corrie nipped out and closed the door of Sebastian’s room before she followed.

  “This would be perfect for hide-and-seek!” said Meredith, pushing spiderwebs from her hair. “What’s in all these boxes?”

  “Fa’s papers and stuff,” said Corrie. She started to lead Meredith down the front stairs, but Meredith pointed to a door at the far end of the hall. “What’s in there?”

  Corrie swallowed. “Oh, just a spare room. We aren’t allowed to go into it.”

  “Why not?” But Corrie was already halfway down to the second floor. She opened the door to Roz’s room, first checking that Hamlet wasn’t near. Meredith ran up to a cage by the window. “A budgie! What’s his name?”

  “Jingle.” Corrie closed the door and opened Jingle’s cage. She put in her hand and the green bird hopped onto her finger. Carefully she passed him to Meredith.

  “He tickles! And he’s so tame!” cried Meredith as Jingle hopped onto her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. “What a funny name you have,” she told him.

  “It’s because of our last name—and because Roz got him for Christmas.”

  “Jingle Bell!” Meredith giggled as Jingle flew onto her head. “I wonder if Daddy’s allergic to birds. I’m going to ask for one for Christmas! Does he talk?”

  “Pretty boy!” said Jingle, as if he were waiting for her to ask. “Pretty Jingle! Merry Christmas! Merry Jingle Bell!”

  Meredith was enthralled. Finally they returned Jingle to his cage and inspected Juliet and Orly’s chaotic, smelly cave.

  “Whose room is that one?” asked Meredith, pointing to a closed door across from the twins’ room. “Your dad’s?”

  Corrie gulped. “It was, when my mother was alive. Now Fa sleeps in his study. Then he can get up and work in the middle of the night if he wants to.”

  Meredith kept staring at the closed door. “Can’t we see in there?”

  “No!” said Corrie. Then she added, “Sorry,” but Meredith didn’t seem to mind.

  She took Meredith into Aunt Madge’s old room. They stood a moment at the window. Below them, the twins were huddled together. Aunt Madge had left her white china dogs on either side of the mantel. Even after two years, Corrie could smell 4711 cologne in the air.

  They went down the wide staircase and paused on the landing. “When it’s sunny, the windows make rainbows on the walls,” Corrie explained.

  “Really? How?”

  “Because of the bevels in the glass.”

  “Cool! Maybe I could come back and see that sometime.”

  “Um … maybe you could. Come on, I’ll race you down the stairs.”

  Corrie quickly showed Meredith the dark living room and, beside it, the large cluttered den, crammed with bookcases and squashy chairs and the TV. “We never use the living room—this is where we spend most of our time,” she told Meredith. They glanced at the dining room and pantry, and Corrie pointed out the closed door that was Fa’s study.

  “Why do you call your father Fa and not Dad or Daddy?” Meredith asked.

  Corrie shrugged. “I don’t know—we always have. It’s short for Father, I guess.” She smiled at the idea of calling her father Daddy; it would be like calling a lion a kitten.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s at the university—he gets home about six. Want to see the basement? It’s pretty spooky.”

  “I like spooky!” said Meredith. They crept down the stairs and along a dark passage to rooms stuffed with boxes, baby furniture, old bikes, and tools.

  “You could get lost in this house!” said Meredith as they returned to the front hall.

  “When we first moved here I did,” Corrie told her. “I was only three and my legs got tired from climbing all the stairs.”

  “It’s so mysterious!” said Meredith, gazing at the dark wood panelling. “There are so many hidden things, like the back staircase and the secret cupboard and all those closed doors. And four bathrooms! I’ve never heard of a house with four bathrooms. You are so lucky, Corrie. This is like a house in a book!”

  The last of Corrie’s reserve melted. Meredith didn’t seem to mind the peeling wallpaper or the dust or the musty smell or the general mess. She was brave enough to explore the scary basement. She didn’t even think Corrie was strange for not having a mother. She seemed to like her just the way she was.

  Meredith looked out the window. “It’s stopped raining—can we go in the back yard?”

  They found Juliet and Orly standing solemnly in front of a rock i
n the garden. Their arms were black to their elbows and their faces were smudged with dirt.

  Other rocks dotted the space. “This is our animal graveyard,” Juliet told Meredith. “So far we have three birds, six turtles, and one rat.”

  “A rat! I’m scared of rats!”

  “So am I,” said Corrie, shivering at the memory of the ones Hamlet had killed. But she was glad Meredith was afraid of them too.

  Juliet looked at both of them scornfully. “Me and Orly aren’t afraid of rats!”

  “You just missed the robin’s funeral,” said Orly. “We sang ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful.’”

  Corrie showed Meredith her favourite cherry tree. She suggested climbing it, but Meredith told her she was afraid of heights. The rest of the yard was a tangle of shrubs, trees, and uncut grass. Corrie thought of Meredith’s pristine back lawn, where she and Meredith had practised cartwheels.

  But Meredith seemed to like the wildness. “It’s like a jungle!” she said, pushing through a thick clump of bamboo.

  The yard was long and narrow. Corrie followed Meredith to the back. “What’s that?” asked Meredith, pointing to a ramshackle cedar shed beside the gate to the lane.

  “Oh, nothing,” said Corrie quickly. “Just an old shed with … with garden tools in it.”

  “Can I peek?” Meredith approached the grimy window, but Corrie pulled at her sleeve.

  “There’s nothing to see. Come on, let’s go back to my room.” She led Meredith back into the house.

  Upstairs, Meredith bent over Corrie’s desk. “What’s this?”

  “It’s called a diorama,” said Corrie shyly. Meredith peeked into the scene Corrie had created in a shoebox.

  “How did you do it?”

  “I used a mirror for the pond and some of Jingle’s gravel for the sand. I drew the tree and barn on cardboard and then I cut them out and glued them on with little tabs so they’d stand up. It’s not quite finished—I’m going to borrow some of the twins’ wooden farm animals if I can sneak them out of their room.”

  “It’s wonderful!”

  Corrie glowed. “I’ve made lots of them,” she said. “There’s no room in here, so I keep them in the basement. I’ll show you sometime.”

  “I’d love to see them!” Meredith sat on the bed and began to tell Corrie all about her house in Calgary and her best friends there. “I miss them so much. This school is kind of unfriendly compared to my other one. But at least you’re nice to me, Corrie. When’s your birthday?”

  “August twentieth,” said Corrie.

  Meredith squealed. “So’s mine! Isn’t that amazing? We’re twins! I knew we had lots in common the moment I met you!”

  Corrie was enjoying Meredith so much that she forgot to listen for the front door to open. When it did, her heart leapt: Sebastian was home! What would he think about her new friend?

  “Do you want to meet my brother and sister?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Sure!” said Meredith. “What’s that noise?”

  Corrie laughed. “Come and see!”

  They ran down to the landing in time to see Orly slide down the banister and squeal as he hit the newel post at each level. Juliet and Harry waited behind to take their turn.

  “Sebastian, Sebastian!” all three chanted. Corrie and Meredith picked their way through the tangle of arms and legs at the bottom of the stairs.

  A tall boy and a shorter girl stood in the hall. Roz was scolding the twins. “Stop pawing at me—your hands are filthy!”

  All the way down Corrie had looked forward to introducing Sebastian to Meredith. But when she saw his face, her good spirits vanished. Sebastian was miserable—pale and tense, his mouth quivering.

  “Who’s your friend, Corrie?” asked Roz.

  Corrie had almost forgotten her. “Oh, this is Meredith. Meredith, this is Roz and … Sebastian.” Corrie kept examining him. He caught her eye and managed a small smile. Then he went into the hall bathroom.

  “What happened?” Corrie asked Roz.

  “The same as usual,” sighed Roz. “I’ll tell you later. Is Meredith staying for dinner?”

  “She has to go home,” said Corrie.

  “But I’d love to stay!” said Meredith. “I’ll phone my mum and ask her.”

  “We don’t have enough food for you to stay,” said Corrie.

  “Corrie, don’t be so rude!” said Roz.

  Sebastian came out of the bathroom and started up the stairs. Roz grabbed each twin by the arm. “Come on, you two. Let’s get you washed.”

  “Let go!” they screamed. Orly twisted his hand out of Roz’s, and Juliet growled like a terrier.

  Sebastian looked down from the landing. “Master Jules and Master Orlando, do as you are told,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, sire,” they chorused, following Roz into the bathroom.

  “What did they say?” asked Meredith. “‘Yes, sire’?”

  “It’s just a silly game the twins play. Meredith, please go home. I need to be alone with my family, okay?”

  Looking hurt and puzzled, Meredith put on her jacket and opened the door. She called back, “Goodbye, Corrie. I had a really good time.”

  Corrie barely heard her. She had already started up the stairs to talk to Roz.

  2

  The Round Table

  “Terry pushed his head into the toilet,” said Roz, cradling Jingle against her chest and stroking his head with her fingertip.

  “Into the toilet? That’s horrible!” Corrie pulled Roz’s yellow chenille bedspread around her and leaned against the wall. “What did Sebastian do to make Terry so mad?”

  Roz shrugged. “Nothing, probably. He’s just out to get him, the way he was all last year. And he’s got all his friends after Seb too. They follow him down the hall whispering names.”

  “What names?”

  “‘Homo’ and ‘Sebastian Bastard.’” Roz’s round blue eyes looked hopeless.

  She’s so pretty, Corrie thought. But Roz looked too grown up. Her best friend, Joyce, had given her a perm, and now stiff blond waves framed her face. She was wearing a crisp white blouse tucked into a full skirt that showed off her tiny waist. On her cardigan she wore a pin that said “I Love Elvis.” Roz and Joyce had gone to the Elvis concert the month before. They couldn’t see or hear a thing, but ever since then Roz had been obsessed with him.

  Roz sighed. “If only Sebastian would cut his hair! If he didn’t look so different they might leave him alone.”

  “I like his hair!” said Corrie. “He’s fine the way he is! He’s different because he’s better than all those other boys! They’re thugs!”

  “Of course he’s better,” said Roz, “but if he doesn’t want to be bullied he could give in a bit. This whole family is different! I’m tired of it. Last year Joyce and I were too scared to join anything, but now that we’re in grade eight we’ve made a pact. By the end of this term we’re going to be popular. We read an article in Seventeen that tells you how. We have to act confident and join things. So we’ve tried out for baton and Glee Club. I really, really want to get on the baton team. But it doesn’t help when everybody thinks your brother is such a loser!”

  Corrie wanted to hit her. Instead she shook her arm; Jingle squawked and flew up to the curtains. “Sebastian’s not a loser! How can you say that? It’s only Terry and those other guys who think he is. You know that, Roz! Are you going to turn against Sebastian too?”

  “Sorry, Corrie,” said Roz. “I know he’s not a loser. He’s just Sebastian. I’ll never turn against him. It’s just hard sometimes, that’s all.” Jingle landed on the bedspread and marched up and down, picking at the tufts.

  “I don’t see why you care so much what other people think,” said Corrie. “I don’t. I like our family just the way it is.”

  “Wait until you get to junior high, then you’ll care,” said Roz. “It’s so important how you look and act. If you’re the least bit unusual you won’t have any friends.”

&
nbsp; “Who cares about friends? You have us!”

  “I care,” said Roz.

  Sebastian pushed open the door.

  “Seb, I’ve told you to always knock!” said Roz. “Jingle’s loose!” She cornered the budgie, snatched him up, and put him in his cage.

  “Sorry,” said Sebastian. “I just wanted to tell you we’re having a meeting.”

  “Now?” said Roz. “It’ll be so cold out there, and we haven’t set the table yet.”

  “It’s only five,” said Sebastian. “The Elephant has just left and there’s lots of time before Fa gets home. Can you get the others and meet me at Camelot?”

  His grey eyes pleaded. Silently Roz and Corrie got off the bed and followed Sebastian down the stairs.

  THE AIR IN THE SHED was so chilly they had to wear their winter jackets. Corrie pulled hers down to protect her bottom against the damp wood. Her stool was an uncomfortable stump. She helped Juliet pull hers closer into the circle.

  Sebastian waited until everyone was seated and quiet around the Round Table. Then he spoke.

  “I, Sir Lancelot du Lac, in the absence of our king, call a meeting of the Knights of the Round Table. Pray answer as I call your names. Sir Gawain.”

  “Present, sire,” said Roz.

  “Master Cor, my squire.”

  “Present, sire,” said Corrie proudly.

  “Master Harry, Sir Gawain’s squire.”

  Harry blew his nose, then croaked, “Present, sire.”

  “Sir Gawain’s page, Master Orlando.”

  “Present, sire!” squealed Orly.

  “My page, Master Jules.”

  “Present,” said Juliet.

  “Present, what?”

  Juliet giggled. “Present, sire.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Gramercy. I will now proceed to relate to my noble fellow knights and their servants what has befell me since last we met.” He picked up The Boy’s King Arthur and read to them how Sir Lancelot smote many knights in a tournament.

  Corrie watched the colour return to Sebastian’s pale cheeks as the tale went on. His face relaxed and his eyes lost their anxiety. She let her mind be partly at the tournament and partly in the chilly shed.

  The walls were hung with painted shields made of garbage-pail lids, cardboard armour covered in tinfoil, and wooden swords. The Round Table used to be a scratched one in the basement. They had cut off its legs to make it low and painted it black. A neighbour had let them have the stumps after he had cleared his yard; they had lugged them home in Orly’s wagon.