The Whole Truth

by Kit Pearson

  “She says she wants to see the girls again. And her daughter and her son-in-law will be away for Christmas—I suppose she has nowhere else to go.”

  “But she’s such a busybody and she never stops talking!” said Aunt Jean. “This is the girls’ first Christmas with us—it’s not a good time to visit. Does she know?”

  Polly held her breath. Does she know what? Sometimes, if she sat very still in her chair, the grown-ups talked as if she weren’t there. She kept her head down.

  “Of course she knows,” said Noni in a low voice. “I knew she’d find out in Winnipeg, so I told her before she went. Don’t worry, she won’t breathe a word about it.”

  Uncle Rand patted his wife’s arm. “Now, my dear, we’ll just have to make Lydia feel welcome. We wouldn’t want her to be alone at Christmas.”

  “She’s a lazy old cow,” said Aunt Jean.

  Polly tried to smother her gasp.

  “Jean, remember the bairn!” said Noni. “Polly, it’s getting late. Take Tarka out to do his business and then go up to bed.”

  December 15, 1932

  Dear Daddy,

  I’m getting so excited about Christmas! We spend every afternoon at school rehearsing for the carol concert. A woman called Mrs. Waddington is leading us. She used to be a singer and she told Alice that she has a beautiful voice. Alice is going to sing the solo part of “O Holy Night.” She’s so busy practising that she leaves us alone.

  We’re also rehearsing the Nativity play at church. Aunt Jean and Mrs. Cunningham are directing us. Biddy and I are shepherds and Tarka and Bramble are going to be sheepdogs! We’ve promised to keep them on their leashes.

  I helped Mrs. Hooper make Christmas cake and cookies and I helped Aunt Jean decorate the church with boughs and I helped Noni cut holly for the house. Gregor is home for the holidays. I stayed at the rectory with him and Uncle Rand while Noni and Aunt Jean went to Victoria for three whole days. We had a lot of fun—they never made me go to bed and we played checkers every night! Noni and Aunt Jean came back with lots of boxes. I wonder what is in them?

  Gregor’s best friend, Alec Cunningham, is home too. He’s a friendly boy, and very handsome. Gregor is going to be Herod in the play and Alec is going to be Joseph. A girl from the island called Cynthia is going to be Mary. She goes to university in Montreal with Alec.

  Aunt Jean thinks that Alec is carrying a torch for Cynthia! Gregor says they are just friends. He and Alec and Cynthia are always in the rectory living room playing jazz records or strumming on their ukuleles. They let Biddy and me listen. We think that Gregor and Alec both like Cynthia!

  I’ve made all my presents. Aunt Jean taught me how to knit! I can only do the garter stitch so far, but I knit bookmarks for Biddy and Gregor and I made a striped scarf for Maud. It’s in the school colours of maroon and mustard. I think those colours are really ugly, but she’ll like it. I painted pictures for the grown-ups—one of Noni’s house and one of the church.

  Daddy, I’ve made a present for you too! I’ll give it to you when I see you again. That won’t be long, I hope! Daddy, please come back to me before I’m grown up—I can’t wait that long!

  Much love,

  Polly

  Polly jumped up and down to keep warm as she watched the steamer carrying Maud come around the point.

  “You’re going to be the Angel Gabriel in the Nativity play!” she told her, hugging Maud so hard that Maud begged for mercy.

  “Gabriel?”

  “Yes! Aunt Jean says you’re such a good actress that you won’t have any trouble learning your lines. We’re having a rehearsal in half an hour!”

  Maud was going to be a splendid Gabriel, Aunt Jean said, after Maud had run out from the side of the church and shouted “Fear not!” to the shepherds.

  Polly sat beside Maud at the manger as all the little angels came shyly up the aisle. “Walk faster and speak louder!” begged Aunt Jean as they whispered “Glory to God in the highest.”

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” Polly told Maud. “Isn’t Tarka nice?” Tarka was licking Maud’s face.

  “He’s very nice. And I’m glad to be home too,” said Maud.

  Polly grinned. Now everyone she loved—except Daddy, of course—was on the island. Noni had given Maud permission to visit Sadie, but that wasn’t until the day after Boxing Day. Until then, Polly had her all to herself. It was going to be an almost perfect Christmas.

  But Polly had forgotten about Mrs. Tuttle.

  The Turtle arrived three days later. “Now, I don’t want to be a bother,” she told them, after she and her large suitcase were shown to the spare room off the living room. “You just carry on with your Christmas preparations as if I wasn’t here.”

  But she was a bother. Her constant appetite meant that someone was always having to bring her cups of tea and cookies. She wanted to see several old friends on the island, so one of the adults had to interrupt what he or she was doing to drive her somewhere. Whenever she was alone with Maud and Polly she was nosier than ever, as if they were still on the train.

  “Why, Maud, look how fat you’ve become!” the Turtle said. “You’d better be careful—you don’t want to look like me! And Polly is still much too thin. The two of you are like Jack Sprat and his wife!” She chuckled at her own joke.

  Maud flounced out of the living room. Polly couldn’t think of an excuse to leave. She had to spend the next hour nodding politely while Mrs. Tuttle gave her an endless description of how she was redecorating her house in Vancouver.

  “She’s like a tap someone has forgotten to turn off!” said Aunt Jean when they were walking to a rehearsal. “I don’t envy you girls, having her in the house all the time. At least I can escape.”

  “Noni, do you think I’m too fat?” asked Maud, when she and Polly were in Noni’s bedroom one morning. “The Tur—I mean, Mrs. Tuttle said I was.”

  “Of course not, hen! You’re just pleasingly plump. You’ll fine down when you’re older. Mrs. Tuttle shouldn’t have told you that.” She sighed. “Our guest is rather wearing, isn’t she? But never mind, at least she has a lot of naps, and she’s leaving on Boxing Day. Thank you for putting up with her, girls. I’m proud of you both for being so polite.”

  On the last day of school, all the island families gathered in the community hall to hear the concert. Polly stood beside Biddy and watched Mrs. Waddington carefully as they struggled through each carol. They were mostly familiar ones like “Silent Night” and “The First Noel,” but some had complicated parts that no one quite managed to get note perfect; Polly was thankful that she was a soprano and had the familiar tunes to sing.

  After “Away in a Manger,” Polly’s favourite, Alice went to the front for her solo. Her crystal voice climbed higher and higher, as if it were rising through the ceiling and becoming part of the starry night. Polly watched Alice’s mother. She looked astonished, as if she hadn’t known that her daughter was capable of such a feat.

  The rest of the choir sang the chorus. “O night divine!” they rang out in perfect unison. Mrs. Waddington looked proud.

  After the concert they had hot cider and cake. “That child has a remarkable voice,” said Mrs. Tuttle as they walked home. “She should be properly trained.”

  The Turtle was not so positive about the Nativity play on Christmas Eve. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but it was more like a rowdy pub scene than the story of our Lord’s birth!” she said afterwards.

  She was referring to the part when one of Gabriel’s wings fell off, and then Tarka wriggled out of his collar, grabbed the wing, and tore down the aisle with it. Noni finally caught him, and he spent the rest of the play on her knee. Aunt Jean tried to restore order, but giggles kept erupting from the cast and audience and it was difficult to get back to the mood of the story.

  Aunt Jean had knit Polly and Maud Christmas red-and-white striped stockings to hang under the mantel. They had never had specially made stockings before; they’d always just used Daddy’s so
cks. After the play they hung up the stockings.

  “Now off to bed, you two!” Noni smiled. “Santa won’t come until you’re sound asleep.”

  “How will he know we live here now?” asked Polly.

  Aunt Jean smiled. “Santa is magic, chickie—he always knows where to find you.”

  Maud fell asleep at once, but Polly lay in bed and listened to Noni playing carols on the piano while the others sang softly.

  She couldn’t help remembering last Christmas with Daddy. There hadn’t been much money for presents, but Santa had managed to fill their socks with an orange, toffee and popcorn, red ribbons for Maud’s hair, and a blue one for Polly’s.

  Where was Daddy? Was he somewhere warm and dry? Was he lonely and was he thinking of them? Please take good care of him, God, she prayed. Then she wept into her pillow until sleep overtook her. The next thing she knew, Maud was whistling her awake. She bounced on the bed, dangling Polly’s stuffed stocking. “Merry Christmas, Doodle!”

  Polly sat up. Santa had come as usual, the sun was sparkling on the sea, and a delicious smell of bacon wafted up from the kitchen. She tore into her stocking, then admired Maud’s loot. They each had a pile of candy, nuts, handkerchiefs, pencils, and hair ornaments. Maud was thrilled with a pair of real silk stockings; Polly got a tin harmonica and a rubber dog bone for Tarka. Her heart tingled with the Christmas glow that came every year … even this one.

  Noni was in the kitchen cooking bacon. Polly decided that, even though bacon came from pigs, she could have two pieces because it was Christmas. Aunt Jean, Uncle Rand, and Gregor appeared at the back door bellowing, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas!” They all had to wait until the Turtle finally got up and ate her breakfast. Then they had the tree.

  Polly got more presents than she had ever had in her life: books and paints, a board game called Parcheesi, new knit clothes for Elizabeth, sheepskin slippers, and a rabbit fur muff. Aunt Jean had altered Gregor’s kilt for her. Polly wore it and the muff to church and showed them to Biddy on the porch.

  “I got a Mickey Mouse doll,” said Biddy, “but Mum wouldn’t let me bring it.”

  Biddy’s family sat behind Polly’s. Biddy kept poking Polly until Noni frowned at them. The church smelled piney. As usual it was freezing, but Polly kept her hands in her muff and snuggled into the side of Noni’s fur coat. “'All is calm, all is bright,'” she sang when they stood for the last carol. When they emerged from the church, the words were true: the smooth sea glistened and the orange bark of the arbutus trees looked as if it were on fire.

  They had Christmas dinner at noon: a long feast of roast goose, mashed potatoes, turnips, Brussels sprouts, plum pudding, and shortbread. Everyone wore a paper hat from his or her cracker. Everyone helped do the dishes, except the Turtle, who went to her room for a nap.

  After the meal, Polly and Tarka went over to Biddy’s and looked at her Mickey Mouse doll and the rest of her presents; then Biddy and Luke and Bramble walked back to examine Polly’s. She was embarrassed that she and Maud had received so many more. They played Parcheesi until Biddy and Luke went home for supper.

  Polly had thought after dinner that she could never eat another thing, but she managed to sip some of the clam chowder that Aunt Jean brought over. Then they sat in the living room, lit the candles on the tree again, and played games: Charades and Twenty Questions and Consequences. Alec and Cynthia arrived, and they and Gregor went out to visit some friends.

  Polly fell asleep while Uncle Rand was reading aloud from A Christmas Carol. She woke up when she felt herself being carried up the stairs. Her heart leapt: Daddy? Then she realized it was Uncle Rand who was carrying her. She kept her eyes closed so she could at least pretend it was Daddy.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE TURTLE TELLS

  On Boxing Day, Aunt Jean and Uncle Rand arrived for lunch with a pheasant pot pie. It was so delicious Polly decided that, except for venison, she couldn’t be a vegetarian yet. Anyway, if she didn’t eat meat, what would she eat? She didn’t like vegetables, and it probably wasn’t healthy to just eat potatoes and dessert. She would be a vegetarian when she was a grown-up.

  After lunch they sprawled in the living room, Polly and Maud and Noni with new books and Uncle Rand with the newspaper. Aunt Jean sat at the card table laying out a game of Patience, and Mrs. Tuttle snored in a chair. Outside, the wind made the waves crash onto the shore. But inside, the fire rustled peacefully.

  Polly knelt on the window seat. She put down her book and drew pictures on the steamy panes with her finger. Tarka was a tight ball in his basket by the fire.

  Snort! The Turtle woke herself up. She yawned noisily, then looked around the room as if she were counting everyone.

  “Where’s Gregor?” she asked.

  “Off with his friends,” said Aunt Jean.

  “He’s probably gone to see that Cynthia. Are we going to hear wedding bells soon, Jean?”

  “If we are, it will be for Cynthia and Alec, not Cynthia and Gregor,” said Jean calmly.

  “Really! Well, that will be nice for the Cunninghams. Cynthia Scott comes from a very good family—I knew her grandmother. Don’t worry, Jean, I’m sure Gregor will find himself a nice girl one day. Is he in a good crowd at varsity?”

  “I’m not worried at all, Lydia,” said Aunt Jean, “and I have no idea about whom Gregor knows. I believe in mothers minding their own business,” she added pointedly.

  This was so untrue that Polly and Maud exchanged a smile. Aunt Jean was constantly grilling Gregor on who his friends were.

  “How are your books, girls?” asked Noni. “Mine is very interesting.”

  The Turtle was not to be deterred from her subject. “It’s a risky time for young people, choosing whom they’ll marry. We were so lucky that Blanche found Walker. He’s such a decent man, and so hard-working. He’s going to be vice president of his company, did I tell you that? Best of all, he’s honest. You must have been horrified, Clara, when Daniel turned out to be a thief.”

  “Lydia!” Noni’s voice rang out like a shot.

  “Oh!” The Turtle covered up her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I forgot that Polly doesn’t know!”

  Noni stood up. Her voice was like steel. “Maud and Polly, come with me.” A thief! The word zoomed around Polly’s head like an angry wasp.

  “My dear girls, I’m so very sorry that Lydia brought this up,” said Noni. Her voice shook.

  “Is it true?” croaked Polly.

  Noni put her arm around Polly’s shoulder. “Yes, hen, I’m afraid it’s true.”

  Polly shook off Noni’s arm. “Did you know this?” she asked Maud.

  Maud nodded, her face white. “I’m sorry, Polly. I wanted to tell you, but they all said not to!”

  “It was for the best, Polly,” said Noni. “You were too young—you still are. We knew you would find out one day how wrong Daniel was, but we wanted you to have an unclouded picture of your father while you were still a wee bairn.”

  Polly started to cry. “Daddy isn’t wrong! He’s good! He would never steal anything!”

  Maud fixed her eyes on Polly. “What a silly, talking about Daddy as if he were still alive! Sometimes she forgets,” she said to Noni.

  “Of course she does, poor wean,” said Noni. “Polly, I understand that you want to defend your father. Maud has told me also that she believes in his innocence. I admire your loyalty, but you both have to face the fact that your father was a thief. He was desperate, I suppose, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he stole. Do you want me to tell you more about it?”

  Polly sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t want to hear, but she had no choice.

  “Your father stole a large sum of money from a safe in the office of his last job,” said Noni, spitting out the words. “They found the money in Daniel’s pocket. They locked him up, but he escaped and … well, you know the rest. He drowned himself in the river.”

  Once Polly had been outside in a storm of hailstones so large that they
’d battered her head. Noni’s stinging words felt exactly like that. Her sobs increased and Noni took her in her lap, holding her tight and stroking her hair.

  “Daddy didn’t do it!” sobbed Polly. “He couldn’t have!”

  “But he did, hen,” said Noni. “Whisht, now. It’s a shame you know this about your father, but he’s gone. Try to remember all the good things about him, not this.”

  Maud stood up. “Noni, I’m going to take Polly to our room.”

  Noni looked exhausted. “That’s a good idea, Maud. The two of you probably want to talk by yourselves, and I need to lie down. Thank goodness that woman is leaving on the afternoon boat. I don’t want to see her again.”

  Polly ran over to the wash basin and threw up her lunch. Maud wiped her face and led her to her bed.

  “Oh, Maud, why didn’t you tell me?” wailed Polly. “It can’t be true!”

  “I wanted to, Doodle. I wanted to tell you so much, but Daddy said not to. I’ll tell you now, though.”

  They squatted on each end of Polly’s bed. She reached back and clutched the bed rail, afraid of the intensity in Maud’s eyes.

  “First of all,” said Maud fiercely, “Daddy didn’t do it.”

  Relief flooded Polly. “I knew it! But how do you know?”

  “Because Daddy told me in the letter he sent. But he said not to tell you until you were older. And all the adults—the social worker and the police—also made me keep it from you. I had to hide the newspapers in case you saw them.”

  “Why did they think he stole the money?”

  “It was just like Noni said. Mr. Rayburn, the boss, noticed the money was missing from the safe. They accused Daddy because he’d been alone in the building during the lunch hour, reading—all the other workers were sitting outside in the sun. They searched him and found the money in his coat pocket.”

  “What happened next?” Polly’s heart thumped. This was like hearing about someone in story or a movie, not her own father!