The Whole Truth

by Kit Pearson

  The taxi dropped them off at the entrance and the driver carried Maud’s suitcase up the wide stairs and into a large, dark hall. One wall was covered with photographs of uniformed girls playing sports or in class groups. Three large oil paintings on another wall portrayed solemn women. They seemed to stare right at Polly.

  “Former headmistresses, I imagine,” said Aunt Jean, taking out a cigarette. “They look rather severe!”

  Many girls were coming in and out, some in uniform and some in their own clothes. Other parents and girls stood in the hall in chattering groups.

  A very tall woman hurried over to them. She was just as formidable as the women in the portraits. “This must be Maud Brown and her family!” she said.

  Polly wished she could hide behind Noni, but that would be babyish.

  “I’m Mrs. Whitfield, Maud’s grandmother,” said Noni.

  The woman shook Noni’s hand. “I am Miss Guppy, the headmistress of St. Winifred’s,” she said grandly. Her voice was like a bark from a very large dog.

  “This is my sister, Mrs. Stafford,” said Noni.

  Miss Guppy had bristly grey hair that stood out untidily from her bony face. She stared coldly down her long nose. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to extinguish your cigarette. We don’t allow smoking here. It sets such a bad example, don’t you think? You’ll have to butt it outside—we have no ashtrays.”

  Aunt Jean flushed. She quickly left, then returned without the cigarette.

  “And this is Maud!” For the first time, Miss Guppy smiled warmly. “I’m delighted to welcome you to St. Winifred’s. You’re the only new girl this term, you know—I’m afraid our little population has shrunk in these hard times. We’re delighted to have you join us.” She shook Maud’s hand and gazed hungrily at her. Then she spotted Polly and crushed her hand. “And you must be Maud’s little sister. What is your name?”

  Polly hung her head, trying not to rub her released hand.

  “It’s Polly,” said Maud.

  “I’m very sorry about your father, girls. I lost mine as a child as well.” It was hard to imagine this strong, horsey-looking woman as a child. “It’s a difficult trial God has sent you, but I know you’ll be able to bear it. Let me show you around.”

  The next hour went by far too fast for Polly. Miss Guppy showed them a dining room with an ornate ceiling and the sitting room where the girls had free time in the evenings. She took them to a long building full of classrooms. Another building contained a gymnasium and a science laboratory and two piano-practising rooms.

  “It’s so large!” marvelled Aunt Jean.

  “We have all the modern conveniences,” said Miss Guppy proudly. “Everything a young lady needs for a proper education.”

  They went back to the stone building. “The other members of your dormitory are already here,” the headmistress told Maud. “I’ll introduce them to you after your family leaves.”

  They sat in Miss Guppy’s study while she told them how delighted she was to have a new student. “Many families can’t afford private schools these days. I’ve had to take a cut in my own salary, but I would never leave, even if I had to work for free—St. Winifred’s is my life. I know you will soon feel the same, Maud.”

  Miss Guppy frowned at Noni. “I was slightly confused when you told me Maud would be a weekly boarder.”

  “I thought I made it clear that Maud will be coming home every Friday after this one,” Noni answered.

  “That will be difficult for her. All of our boarders stay for the weekend, even if they live nearby. We go on special outings on Saturdays, and on Sundays we have spiritual discussions in the afternoons. The boarders are a tightly knit group at St. Winifred’s. Maud will feel left out if she can’t participate fully in their activities.”

  “Nevertheless, Maud will be coming home every weekend,” repeated Noni firmly.

  “Oh, but—” started Maud. Noni put up her hand and Maud was silent.

  “Let’s see how it goes,” said Miss Guppy just as firmly. Maud turned to her with a relieved smile, and Polly’s stomach hurt. Already Maud and Miss Guppy seemed to be in a private league that shut out the rest of them.

  “Now, Maud, why don’t you say goodbye to your family? I ordered a taxi for six o’clock and it must be here by now.” Miss Guppy had them outside before they knew what was happening.

  “Goodbye, hen,” said Noni, kissing Maud. “Enjoy your new friends. You can tell us all about them when you come home.”

  “Have a good time, chickie,” said Aunt Jean.

  Then it was Polly’s turn. She couldn’t speak as Maud hugged her and whispered, “Remember the rules! See you in ten days!”

  Maud turned and followed Miss Guppy back inside. The heavy door closed firmly behind them.

  “Well!” said Aunt Jean in the taxi. “There’s a woman who knows her own mind! She made me feel like a young girl!”

  “She’s terribly overbearing, but she appears to be an excellent and committed headmistress,” said Noni.

  “And Maud seems to like her,” said Aunt Jean. “That’s the most important thing.”

  “Yes, Maud seems to like everything about the school. I’m sure she’ll be happy there. And of course she’ll get a good classic education. I wish I’d had that opportunity.”

  On the way out they passed a group of uniformed girls walking up the drive. They were laughing and talking so intently that they didn’t even glance at the taxi. They were part of a secret world, as alien as Maud now seemed to Polly.

  To Polly’s relief she was sent to bed early, after supper on a tray—which she hardly touched—that came to the room. She sat on her cot in her nightgown and watched Noni and Aunt Jean get dressed for dinner. “If you need anything, just phone the desk and they’ll come and get us in the dining room,” said Noni. She tucked Polly in and kissed her. “You go right to sleep, hen. Don’t fash yourself about Maud—remember that you’ll see her soon.”

  For a long time Polly lay on the bed, all the events of the day marching through her mind. Then she sat at the window and watched the lit-up boats in the harbour. People strolled by on the sidewalk, laughing and chatting. Everyone looked happy—everyone but her.

  She got back into bed, burrowed under the blankets, and let herself cry.

  Polly knew that Maud and Miss Guppy would prevail. Miss Guppy would persuade Noni to let Maud be a full boarder. She would come home a week this Friday, but then she’d stay for the whole term and Polly wouldn’t see her until Christmas!

  Now Polly had no one. No Maud, no Daddy, no Grannie … and no mother, even though she couldn’t remember her. And she didn’t understand what had happened in August and no one would tell her, not even Maud! She was tired of going on trains and boats and staying in new places. She didn’t want to start a strange new school with scary-looking girls like Alice in it. The future was a dark tunnel she was being forced to enter, but it wasn’t like the tunnels on the train because she didn’t know when or if she would come out on the other side.

  “Oh, oh!” sobbed Polly. Her tears choked her they came so fast.

  “Why, chickie, what on earth is the matter?” Aunt Jean rushed in and sat on the edge of the cot. She took out her handkerchief and wiped Polly’s face. Then she held her shuddering body. “Poor wean, this is so hard for you. Things will get better, I promise. We’ll take good care of you, and you’ll come to like living with us.”

  “I want to live with my Daddy, like I always have!” cried Polly.

  “Whisht, now. You mustn’t think about your father—it will only make you sad. Be a good lassie and try to go to sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  Polly’s sobs diminished to gulping breaths. She let Aunt Jean tuck her in. “Where’s Noni?” she croaked.

  “She ran into someone she knew, but she’s coming up soon. Go to sleep now, chickie.”

  Aunt Jean rubbed Polly’s back and began to sing:

  Dance to your Daddy

  M
y little babby

  Dance to your Daddy

  My little one.

  You shall have a fishie

  In a little dishie.

  You shall have a fishie

  When the boat comes in.

  “Jean!” Noni hurried over from the door. “How can you sing that to Polly? It’s completely inappropriate!”

  “Sorry, Polly,” said Aunt Jean. “I wasn’t thinking. That was Gregor’s favourite lullaby.”

  “I liked it,” murmured Polly.

  “Polly has been feeling sad,” said Aunt Jean. “But do you know what, chickie? You’re talking!”

  “So you are!” said Noni. “I’m glad of that, but I’m sorry you’re feeling sad.” She took Aunt Jean’s place on the bed and stroked Polly’s hair.

  Then she began to sing:

  Lula lula lula bye-bye.

  Do you want the stars to play with?

  Or the moon to run away with?

  They’ll come if you don’t cry.

  Polly fell asleep to Noni’s husky voice.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A BREATHER

  Polly sat at the kitchen table and forced herself to eat a few mouthfuls of porridge, wondering what to do with herself. The rain drummed on the roof like a waterfall. Being without Maud was like being without a limb.

  “Isn’t it good to be home?” Aunt Jean had said the night before. But where was home? Polly wondered. It didn’t feel like here, but neither did Winnipeg without Daddy. Maud’s new home was her school, but Polly had nowhere.

  “Why don’t you take another pot of tea up to your grandmother?” suggested Mrs. Hooper, who was rolling out dough. “I’ll set out a cup for you as well.”

  “All right,” said Polly, since she didn’t seem to have a choice.

  She had to put the heavy tray down to knock on Noni’s door.

  “Come in,” called the gravelly voice.

  Polly felt shy going into Noni’s bedroom. But Noni smiled at her, sitting up in bed in an embroidered dressing gown. Her loose hair made her face look softer. She put down her book.

  “Ah, Polly, what a treat! And more tea! Come and sit beside me on the bed. Have you had breakfast?”

  Polly nodded as she pushed off her shoes and scrambled onto the high bed.

  “Why, look at your feet—they’re sopping! You’d better take off your socks and get under the covers. How did you get so wet?”

  “Going to the privy,” Polly explained.

  “We should have bought you gumboots in Victoria! Never mind, we’ll find you some at the store. Now, hen, how many spoonfuls of sugar would you like in your tea?”

  “Two, please.” Polly was trying not to stare too obviously at Noni’s things. “What are you reading?” she asked shyly.

  “It’s a book of poetry called The Golden Treasury. I read it every morning, and often during the night. I don’t sleep very well. My arthritic hips make it hard to get comfortable, and I can’t seem to turn off my mind. That’s why I find it hard to get up in the mornings. Would you like me to read some poems aloud to you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Now Polly could stare freely. She slurped her sweet milky tea and listened to Noni read a short poem about daffodils, then a longer one about going down to the sea.

  Like the rest of the house, Noni’s room was stuffed full of objects: photos, cushions, books, magazines, and clothing were piled and draped everywhere.

  Noni put down the book and picked up her cup. “Just listen to that rain! Isn’t it cozy, being inside in a warm bed? Sometimes I think I could stay here all day! But the morning awaits us. I’d better get dressed before Jean arrives, or she’ll be disgusted with me.”

  Polly wondered if she should leave, but Noni told her to stay in bed. She tried not to stare as her grandmother peeled off her dressing gown and nightgown and began to put on many layers of underwear: drawers, a brassiere, a camisole, a corset that had garters dangling from the bottom of it, and, over it all, a slip. She sat on a stool to pull on her stockings and fasten them to the garters. Finally she put on a brown cotton dress.

  “Now, hair!” she said, turning to her mirror. Noni brushed her fluffy hair smooth and twisted it into a smooth roll. Then she fastened the roll along the back of her head with hairpins.

  “There!” she said, turning around. “How do I look?”

  Noni looked as if she had tied herself up tightly in a brown package, but it would have been rude to say that. “You look … tidy,” said Polly.

  “Thank you, hen! I try to at least be neat in my appearance, since I seem to have so much trouble keeping anything else tidy! Jean thinks I should get a bob, but I’ve had long hair all my life. I don’t see any reason to change.”

  “Mrs. Tuttle told us we should get our hair bobbed,” said Polly. “She said we looked old-fashioned.”

  “Nonsense! Your long hair is lovely. Would you like me to braid it?”

  Polly shook her head. She always wore her hair loose, with barrettes or a ribbon pulling it back from her face. Its weight was like a comforting shawl around her shoulders.

  “You’re the image of Una as a child,” Noni told her. “However, Una cut her hair short when she was twelve without my permission. How we argued about that!” She sighed. “Do you remember your mother at all, Polly?”

  Again, Polly shook her head. “Maud does. Sometimes she tells me about her. She taught Maud how to whistle with two fingers!”

  Noni smiled, although her sad eyes looked sadder. “Una often used to startle us doing that. Maud is so much like her, even though she doesn’t resemble her mother at all.”

  They both flushed, realizing whom Maud did resemble.

  Aunt Jean burst through the door. “Are you dressed, Clara? It’s almost ten o’clock! Polly, I swear your grandmother is the laziest person on earth! I’ve been up since five! I’ve gathered the eggs, fed the chickens, and made your uncle’s breakfast. Some of us can’t afford help!”

  “Help is cheap these hard times, Jean. You just prefer doing it all yourself.”

  “Well, I do like things to be done properly. Clara, I’m about to go to the store—do you need anything? Would Polly like to come with me? The rain seems to be letting up.”

  Noni smiled. “I’m sure she would—she can help carry things. I’ll make you a list.”

  Aunt Jean chattered all the way to the store. “The Cunninghams live there,” she said as they passed a large brown house. “Mildred was my first friend on the island. She thinks because she married a doctor she’s a cut above me, but I think a rector’s wife is higher than a doctor’s wife, don’t you? Gregor is good friends with Alec Cunningham. Alec is in Montreal right now, attending McGill, and Mildred never stops boasting about him—it’s Alec this, Alec that, whenever we run into her. I can hardly get in a word about Gregor, and he’s doing just as well.”

  Polly followed Aunt Jean up and down the aisles of the store as she filled her basket. Everything was here, from food to dishes to clothes to fishing gear.

  “Clara has written ‘Boots for Polly.'” Aunt Jean smiled. “Come and try these on.”

  She bought Polly a pair of green gumboots and some thick wool socks. “You can wear them home,” she said.

  Mr. Wynne, the storekeeper, gave Polly a piece of licorice. “Why aren’t you in school, young lady?” he asked.

  “She’s not starting until next week,” said Aunt Jean. Mr. Wynne waited for further explanation, but Aunt Jean went on to ask about his sick mother.

  All the way back Polly stomped through puddles in her new boots. She helped put away the groceries in Noni’s and then in Aunt Jean’s kitchen. Uncle Rand came out of his study and joined them in the kitchen for a cup of coffee; Polly had milk and ate one of Aunt Jean’s brownies.

  Aunt Jean never sat still for long. She jumped up to wash their dishes, then took Polly over to the church. Polly helped her dust the pews until it was time to go back to Noni’s for lunch.

  The rest of the day was so
filled with new things that Polly hardly had time to think about Maud. After lunch Noni went upstairs for a nap and Uncle Rand took Polly with him on a drive to visit an ill parishioner. She waited in the car while he went in, watching a sheepdog follow a man down the road. The dog paused and glanced at her; it had such an appealing face. Polly was about to get out and pat it, but then it hurried to catch up with its master.

  “Sorry to take so long, Polly.” Uncle Rand got into the car. “Mrs. Butler is a cross I have to bear.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s constantly sending for me because she thinks she’s dying. But there’s nothing wrong with her, apart from her need to be the centre of attention. She’s such a trial to her poor husband.” He started the car. “Now I’ll drive you all around the island.”

  The map Uncle Rand had shown Polly and Maud came alive. There were two main settlements of houses, some around the village where Noni’s was, and more at Fowler Bay on the other side of the island. Other houses were on the farms or sprinkled occasionally along the shore. Uncle Rand pointed out a house on a cliff. “The Hays live up there—they had a challenging time building so high, but Captain Hay is so stubborn he wouldn’t give up. They have an incredible view.”

  Polly was amazed at how quiet and empty the road was. They passed one other car, a man on a horse, a tractor putting along, and some fields full of oxen. On the water side of the road were farms enclosed by criss-cross log fencing. The other side was a dark fir forest.

  “Where are all the people?” Polly asked.

  Uncle Rand chuckled. “There aren’t that many—only about one hundred and fifty.”

  A hundred and fifty! That was fewer than in Polly’s old school! “Do you know them all?” she asked.

  Uncle Rand nodded. “I’ve lived here all my life. And almost everyone is part of my congregation. I’ve baptized them and married them and conducted many of their funerals.”

  He turned the car down a bumpy lane and stopped in front of the house where he’d grown up. It was on a cove with a tiny island. “I spent hours on that island,” he told her. “You can still see the fort I made.”