A Perfect Gentle Knight (2 page)

Corrie laughed. “Not my father! He never notices what any of us look like! Roz tries to, but they don't stand still long enough to be washed or have their hair combed. They would for Sebastian, but he forgets. And the housekeeper only looks after the house.”

Meredith looked longingly at the twins' tangled hair and torn clothes. “They're almost identical—like Freddie and Flossie in the Bobbsey Twins! They'd look
so
cute in matching outfits. And their hair is so blond, it must be nice when it's washed. Why don't
you
try to clean them up?”

“They aren't dolls!” snapped Corrie. “They're fine the way they are.”

Uh-oh. Now maybe Meredith wouldn't like her. Corrie shivered under her sopping jacket. Her feet were soaked as well. There were no boots in the family that fit her, and she kept forgetting to ask Roz to buy her some. She glanced enviously at Meredith's yellow rain slicker and matching yellow boots.

“Sorry, Corrie,” said Meredith. “I've
always
wanted a little sister or brother. I was just imagining what I'd do if they were mine. You're so
lucky
!”

“It's okay,” muttered Corrie. “I guess they
are
pretty grubby. And sometimes I do try to wash them. But Juliet bites!”

Orly, who'd rushed ahead again, ran back and pinched Meredith. “Monkey tree, no pinchies back!” he shouted.

“Ouch!” Meredith rubbed her arm. “What are you
talking
about?”

“Quit it, Orly,” Corrie told him. “Meredith's from Calgary. She doesn't know that game.” She explained to Meredith how every time you saw a monkey puzzle tree you were supposed to pinch someone and say what Orly had said. Then the other person wasn't allowed to pinch back.

“They're sure weird-looking trees,” said Meredith as they continued down the steep street. She looked around carefully until she saw another tree with long prickly branches that looked like monkeys' tails. Then she caught up to Orly. “Monkey tree! No pinchies back!”

Orly giggled and ran ahead to the house.

“We're here,” said Corrie shyly.

“What a
huge
hedge!” said Meredith. They pushed open the sagging gate. Juliet and Orly dashed around to the back to bury the robin.

“Wow,” said Meredith. “Your house is
enormous
! Your family must be
rich
!”

Corrie was confused. “I don't think we're rich. This used to be my grandparents' house. After they died, my parents moved into it.”

Meredith gaped at the tall grey house. All the lower windows were obscured by overgrown shrubs. “How many rooms are there?”

Corrie shrugged. “Lots.” She led Meredith up the mossy steps, through the hall, and into the dining room and kitchen. If only there were chocolate chip cookies warm from the oven waiting on the table!

The kitchen smelled sour. Mrs. Oliphant was reclining on the easy chair she'd dragged into the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and flipping through a movie magazine. She never baked cookies. “If you want something fancy you can make it yourself,” she had told them.

She glared at Corrie. “Your younger brother has been driving me crazy,” she said. “He comes down every hour asking for something to eat. I'm only here to cook and clean, not take care of sick children. And that damned cat threw up furballs in the den. I refuse to put up with all this extra work. I'm going to speak to your father!”

Corrie ignored her. She grabbed a package of soda crackers, a knife, and a jar of peanut butter and hurried Meredith out of the kitchen and up the back stairs.

“Is that the
housekeeper
?” whispered Meredith, clutching the railing on the slippery stairs. Up and up they climbed, to Corrie's room on the third floor.

Corrie cleared a space on the rug and motioned Meredith to sit down. Her heart sank as Meredith noticed the spiderwebs on the ceiling, the peeling iron bedframe, the tattered eiderdown draped over the unmade bed, and Corrie's books and clothes mounded on the floor.

Meredith's room contained twin beds covered with pink counterpanes. Each bed had its own white night-stand. Her curtains were frilly white organdy and she had something called a “dressing table,” with a pink skirt gathered around it. The material in the skirt matched the counterpanes.

If Corrie had known Meredith would be coming she would have tried to tidy up. None of the housekeepers had ever properly cleaned the bedrooms, and Mrs. Oliphant was the worst; she said there were too many stairs.

Meredith was staring at the far wall. “Is that something
growing
?”

“It's just a vine that came in through the top. The window won't close because it's warped,” said Corrie, trying to sound nonchalant.

They leaned against the bed, nibbling crackers spread with peanut butter. “Your housekeeper isn't very
friendly
!” said Meredith. “What's her name?”

“Mrs. Oliphant. She only came a month ago. She's such a grouch! We call her the Elephant.”

Meredith giggled. “Does the Elephant stay all day?”

“She shops for food for us and comes at ten, just before Fa goes to work.”

“Does she eat with you?”

“No, she leaves us dinner in the warming oven.”

“How many housekeepers have you had?”

Corrie thought a minute. “Five, I think. They all quit because the house is too big to clean. And before the twins started school, no one lasted long looking after them all day.”

“Is the Elephant a good cook?”

“Terrible! Everything tastes the same. Aunt Madge was a good cook. She made great desserts, like gingerbread with lemon sauce, and chocolate pudding.”

“Did your aunt live with you?”

Corrie hadn't meant to say anything about Aunt Madge. “Yes,” she said quietly. “She came after … after my mother died. But she only stayed for a year.”

“Why did she leave? Didn't you
like
her?”

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.