The Whole Truth Read online

  “How about ‘Nanny'?” suggested Aunt Jean.

  Gregor laughed. “That sounds like a goat!”

  “'Noni,’ then,” said Uncle Rand. “That’s what I called my grandmother.”

  “I like that,” said their grandmother gravely. “What do you think, Maud and Polly? Would you like to call me ‘Noni'?”

  Maud shrugged. “All right.”

  “What about you, Polly? Do you like that name?”

  Polly nodded.

  “'Noni’ it is, then,” said Noni. She put down her cup. “I want to tell you how very sorry I am about your father’s death. I know you’ll feel sad about it for a long time, but I hope that being a part of this family will help you recover from your grief. I’m also sorry we couldn’t make it to the funeral. We would have come and then brought you back here with us, but then we heard Lydia Tuttle was in Winnipeg visiting friends. It made more sense for her to do it.”

  Noni didn’t sound sorry. Her words sounded forced and she seemed relieved to have them over and done with.

  Then she looked embarrassed. “You’re living in a small community now, girls, where people are far too interested in one another’s business. I’m afraid someone might ask you how Daniel died. You won’t want to tell them the truth, of course. I suggest that you simply say your father drowned. Don’t you think that’s best?”

  “That’s what we already say,” said Maud. She looked straight at Polly as her voice rang out. “We tell people that our father drowned by accident, not that he drowned himself.”

  Aunt Jean gave a little gasp and Uncle Rand and Gregor looked down at their plates.

  Polly’s head whirled. That wasn’t the truth either!

  “Very good, Maud,” said Noni. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

  “I liked your dad,” said Gregor. He smiled at Polly and Maud. “I only met him once, but I remember him. It was at your parents’ wedding on the island. I climbed up his legs and he flipped me over. He was a nice guy.”

  Polly’s eyes stung. Daddy used to do that with her too! At least Gregor looked sad. The other adults didn’t at all. She wanted to ask if they liked Daddy, but the words wouldn’t form.

  Noni was giving Maud a strange look—a warning look.

  Polly wanted to explode. Before they’d left Winnipeg, Grandmother had telephoned Maud at the foster home, and Maud had ordered Polly to wait in the other room. Whatever secret Maud was keeping from Polly, whatever Maud and Mrs. Tuttle knew, Noni knew also. Perhaps the others did as well.

  They were all treating her like a baby! It was so unfair, and there was nothing Polly could do about it. Her stomach twinged and she wished she hadn’t had any cake.

  Noni’s thin mouth smiled at both of them. “All these years we’ve missed out on you, but now we can get to know you at last. I’m sorry you have to go away to school, Maud, but the island school only goes up to grade seven.”

  “I’m really looking forward to it,” said Maud. “St. Winifred’s sounds swell—I’ve been reading about it ever since you sent me the brochure.”

  “I’m glad you’re so eager, Maud. It is an excellent school, and I firmly believe in girls receiving a good education. Your mother refused to go away to school. She had a governess, as Jean and I did when we moved here from Scotland. We scarcely learned a thing!”

  “That’s because we spent all our time playing tricks on her!” giggled Jean, exactly as if she were still a schoolgirl.

  “We’ll have you home every weekend, Maud,” continued Noni, “but would you mind waiting another week before you start? I’d like you to get used to us and the island first before you have another huge change.”

  “Another week! Please, Grandmother—I mean, Noni—I really want to start on time. I don’t want to miss anything!”

  “Are you sure? You want to go away again so soon?”

  “Yes!”

  “Very well. Jean and I—and Polly, of course—will take you to Victoria on Tuesday. We’ll get your uniform in the afternoon and you’ll be at St. Winifred’s by the evening.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Maud looked ecstatic, but Polly gulped. Tuesday? That was two days after tomorrow! And how could Maud be so enthusiastic, when she’d be leaving Polly behind?

  “Polly will attend school on the island, of course, but I think she could wait another week, right, hen?”

  Polly nodded with relief.

  “I don’t think she should,” said Maud. “She’ll get behind if she starts school late.”

  “A week off won’t hurt Polly. She’s only in grade five, after all. And she’s been through so much she needs a breather.” Noni met Maud’s fierce stare just as fiercely, until Maud lowered her eyes. Polly was awed—Maud had met her match!

  “Noni, do you think the store in Victoria will have everything I need?” she asked.

  “I’m sure it will, Maud.”

  “What do they make you wear?” asked Gregor. “Some ugly tunic, I bet!”

  Maud eagerly told him all the details of her uniform. Aunt Jean helped Mrs. Hooper take out the tea things, and Uncle Rand left to write his sermon for the next day.

  “You girls must be completely worn out,” said Noni. “Would you like a nice hot bath? Then you can unpack and have supper on a tray and an early bedtime.”

  “Supper on a tray?” said Maud. “I’m fifteen!”

  “Goodness, you look just like your mother when she didn’t want to do something! Very well, Maud, after your bath you can come down in your dressing gown and join us for dinner if you like. But Polly must go straight to bed.”

  “I’d better go and deal with that wasps’ nest,” said Gregor. “Tomorrow I’ll give you girls a tour of the island.”

  The rest of that long day was a blur. Mrs. Hooper filled the tin bath she had brought into their room. “You both look as if you need this!” she said. “I’ve left you extra water in those jugs. I’m off home now, girls, but I’ll see you at breakfast!” She blew them a kiss.

  Polly and Maud shared the blissfully hot water—they had to replace it twice it got so dirty. They washed each other’s hair, got into their nightgowns and dressing gowns, and combed out their hair in front of the oil heater.

  Noni brought up a tray of chicken soup and bread. While they ate, she put their clothes into drawers. “Tomorrow we’ll repack the big suitcase for you, Maud,” she said.

  Polly managed a few spoonfuls of soup, but her eyelids kept drooping. Maud slurped her whole bowl.

  When Noni sent them outside to the privy, Polly gripped Maud’s hand all the way as they stumbled along the dark path. She was bursting to go, but when Maud showed her the deep, open hole she was supposed to sit over, she cried, “I can’t! I’ll fall in!”

  “Don’t be silly, Poll. Of course you won’t. I’ll go first and show you.”

  When it was her turn, Polly’s urgent need overcame her fear. But she sat over the hole for as short a time as possible, terrified that something would rise up from below and bite her bottom. She held her nose until she came out. “Gregor was right,” she said as they walked back. “It stinks!”

  “Into bed with you, Polly,” said Noni when they returned to their room. “Now, Maud, are you going to join us for dinner, or not? After all that soup you won’t have room!”

  Maud looked over at Polly huddled under her eiderdown. She yawned. “Well … I am a bit tired. I guess I’ll go to bed too.”

  Noni smiled. “Good girl.” She tucked them in and gave them each a brisk kiss. “Try not to be too sad, and don’t forget to say your prayers.”

  Then her voice wavered and she cleared her throat, as if she were swallowing tears. “Oh, my dear bonnie girls, I’m so glad you are here at last!”

  Polly barely heard her as she melted into sleep.

  Hours later, Polly woke with a gasp. Where was she? Her bed wasn’t swaying, so she was no longer on the train. Then she heard Maud’s gentle breathing and remembered.

  She sat up, pulled back the curtain
, and looked out the window. The sea was glassy and the moon’s reflection was a silvery path to the house. The dazzling stars made the black night even blacker—far darker than in the city.

  Where was Daddy? How was it possible that she wasn’t with him? It was a little over two weeks since he had left her—she’d never been away from him for even a day before that. Polly buried herself under the eiderdown and let some of her tears fall, pressing her pillow over her head so Maud wouldn’t hear her.

  Don’t think about Daddy. What a stupid rule! How could she help thinking about him? Anyway, Maud couldn’t control what was inside Polly’s head. She tried to think of something comforting about Daddy, instead of what had happened.

  When she was much younger, Daddy had often taken her for rides on his bicycle. He’d made a special wooden seat on the handlebars, like a basket with holes for her legs. Polly would clutch the sides of the seat and scream with laughter as the bike whizzed down hills, her hair blowing back into his face. Daddy would lean down and tell her about things they were passing. She always felt safe, even when they went over bumps, because Daddy was there to protect her.

  Please, God, take care of Daddy, Polly prayed. She kept imagining being on the bike with him as she tried to sleep again, clutching one of the bed rails as if she were keeping herself from drowning.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SUNDAY

  She was skating, gliding across a lake. Daddy was zooming ahead of her and Polly laughed as she tried to catch up with him. Then Daddy fell through the ice and disappeared. Polly tried to scream, but no sound came.

  A piercing whistle startled Polly awake. She sat up with relief. The whistle had come from Maud, of course.

  Polly yawned away the bad dream. “What time is it?”

  Maud grinned. “It’s almost nine o’clock—I’ve been up for hours!”

  “Who braided your hair?” asked Polly, stumbling out of bed.

  “Noni. She called me into her room—she has breakfast in bed! She did a good job, don’t you think?”

  Maud helped Polly choose clothes for church. “Noni says we don’t have to wear our mourning dresses any more. She doesn’t believe in black clothes for children.”

  Polly smiled for the first time since she’d left Winnipeg. She’d worn her itchy black dress every day for the past week. The fabric was so cheap that it made dark smears on her skin, and the sleeves were split under the arms.

  Polly had lots of other dresses; they were hand-me-downs from Maud. She picked out her favourite blue gingham one. Then she remembered that she hadn’t worn coloured clothes since before it happened, and her delight in the dress vanished.

  “It’s nice to see you in that again,” said Maud. “I wish I had something better to wear to church.”

  Since the depression had started there had been no money for new clothes. Polly remembered the day Maud had come home from school mortified because a well-off girl in her class had recognized the dress Maud had got from the Goodwill truck. Maud was wearing it this morning. It was too short for her and stretched tightly across her chest.

  “Oh, well,” said Maud. “Noni said she’d buy me new dresses in Victoria as well as my uniform.”

  “Is Noni rich, like Mrs. Tuttle said?” Polly asked.

  “She must be. She has this big house and a housekeeper, and she’s paying for my school.”

  “But she doesn’t even have an indoor toilet!” Polly shuddered.

  “That’s just because this is an island.” Maud began brushing out Polly’s curls. “Noni asked why you’re so silent, Doodle. She was relieved that you at least speak to me. I didn’t know what to tell her.”

  “I just can’t talk to them, that’s all,” said Polly.

  “I guess you will when you’re ready. That’s what I told Noni. Come on, let’s have breakfast. I waited for you and I’m starving!”

  Maud was remarkably cheerful this morning. Had she forgotten why they were here? But Polly couldn’t help feeling more cheerful herself on such a bright day.

  The privy was a little less scary by daylight, but Polly still held her nose. On the way back to the house she paused to gaze at the view. This morning the sea looked like a wrinkled grey skin. Gulls soared and warbled and some black birds with long necks were perched on a log.

  When she came in the kitchen door, Mrs. Hooper handed Polly a huge bowl of oatmeal and cream. “We need to fatten you up!” she told her.

  Mrs. Hooper poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with Maud and Polly, gazing at them just as greedily as she had the day before. “All these years we’ve longed to see you, and here you are at last!” she told them. “Polly, you look so much like your mother it’s uncanny! My, it’s nice to have young ones in the house again.”

  Polly spooned soft brown sugar over the oatmeal. It was so delicious that she ate half the bowlful.

  “What was our mother like?” asked Maud.

  Mrs. Hooper chuckled. “Una was a scamp—loud and stubborn and determined to get her own way. Do you remember her at all, Maud?”

  “I remember some things …” Maud stopped chewing. “We sat in a big chair and she would read me the funnies. Then we’d tickle each other and laugh so much that we cried.”

  “She was a tickler, all right! She would come up behind me while I was cooking and tickle my knees—she’d scare the living daylights out of me!”

  Polly wished she could remember her mother. Whenever Maud and Daddy had talked about her, Polly had felt left out. But now she noticed how sad Maud looked. The trouble with remembering someone was that it made you miss them. Like Daddy … pain stabbed her insides, and she put down her spoon.

  “Good morning, girls.” Noni came into the kitchen, looking elegant in a grey silk dress with lace on the collar. She was carrying a fur wrap over her arm. “Are you ready for the service?” she asked. “Get your hats and carry your coats. I know it’s summer, but the church is always frigid.”

  The little stone church was a short walk away, just past the rectory. People were walking up the hill to it from all directions, heeding the call of its tolling bell. Noni and Maud and Polly sat in the front pew with Aunt Jean. They all stood up for the first hymn as Gregor led the small choir up the aisle, carrying a tall cross. He wore a white robe, and his usually grinning face was solemn. As he passed them, however, he gave the girls a quick wink.

  Uncle Rand, dressed in white and green robes, was the last in the procession. Words and music floated above Polly and she sat or stood or kneeled with rest of the congregation.

  The church was a bright space of wood and stone. Clear windows framed the green and blue colours outside as if they were living stained glass. Every pew was filled with adults and children in their best clothes. Most of them stared at Maud and Polly, the adults discreetly and the children boldly. Polly avoided their eyes.

  When Uncle Rand got up to preach, Polly tried to listen, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying—something about “atonement.” The rest of the congregation looked as mystified as Polly was. She rubbed her legs together.

  “Are you cold, hen?” whispered Noni. She took off her fur wrap and draped it over Polly’s knees.

  Polly waited in the pew while Maud, Noni, and Aunt Jean went up to the altar for Communion. Maud crossed herself when she received the wafer and wine. Polly remembered going to the Ukrainian Catholic church in Winnipeg with Grannie. She and Maud had leaned on either side of her, half asleep, as the priest chanted the mass. Daddy had never come, and after Grannie had died, Polly and Maud had never gone to church again.

  Until Daddy’s funeral last week … Don’t think about it!

  Finally the long service was over. Everyone lined up at the door to shake Uncle Rand’s hand. Aunt Jean led them to the parish hall behind the church.

  Polly and Maud stood beside Noni as people poured into the hall for tea and cookies. “These are my dear granddaughters,” said Noni, as person after person came up to meet them.

&nbs
p; “How do you do?” said Maud over and over again. Polly just held out her limp hand as if it belonged to someone else.

  Most of the adults acted kind and pitying as they welcomed them to the island. “Poor little orphans,” one muttered. The children who accompanied their parents looked suspicious.

  “Alice is delighted to have a new girl coming to school,” said a woman called Mrs. Mackenzie. “She’ll take good care of Polly.” She glared at her daughter, as if this were an order.

  Alice, a scowling girl with red hair, didn’t appear at all delighted. She examined Polly so disdainfully that Polly moved closer to Noni.

  “Polly won’t be starting school for another week,” said Noni.

  A week was a long time. Polly lowered her eyes to shield herself from Alice’s glare.

  After church they went to the rectory for what Noni called Sunday dinner, even though it was at noon. The rectory was smaller and darker than Noni’s house and much tidier. Polly was still worrying about all the staring children in the parish hall, especially that angry-looking girl. She thought of her friends in Winnipeg … especially Audrey, her best friend. Polly hadn’t been able to see her since it happened. Audrey would be getting ready to start school in Winnipeg. What would she think when Polly wasn’t there?

  Polly pushed some dark meat around on her plate, trying not to cry.

  “What is this?” asked Maud suspiciously.

  “It’s venison,” said Gregor.

  “Venison?”

  “Deer. I shot it myself!”

  Deer? Polly almost gagged as she put down her knife and fork.

  “You shouldn’t have told them that, Gregor,” said Aunt Jean. “We eat a lot of venison, chickies. We’re lucky to have such a plentiful supply of meat. And there are too many deer on the island. It’s good for them to be culled, and it’s delicious—try it!”

  Maud did. “It is good!” She gobbled it up and asked for a second helping.

  But Polly knew she could never eat it. Deer, like the graceful animals she had seen yesterday? She nibbled a few carrots and potatoes and left the venison on her plate.