And Nothing But the Truth (6 page)

Polly had drawn three leaves, one shaded heavily with the soft pencil, one delicately defined with the hard one, and one with both dark and light lines. She’d tried to make that one seem as if it were dancing in the wind.

“Wow!” said Dottie. “I can’t believe someone so young can draw so well!”

“You have a strong, confident line, Polly,” said Miss Falconer. She pointed out a wide curve. “Do you see how she doesn’t hesitate, everyone? And you’ve put so much motion into your drawing—this leaf looks as if it’s twirling. Well done, little one!”

Polly was stunned. Miss Falconer had pointed out something in
her
drawing as an example! And she and the others really liked it!

“You are all special …” Polly
felt
special, as if a spark inside her had kindled.

Then Miss Falconer looked anxious. “Sit down again, girls. The reason I was late was that I had to discuss something
with Miss Guppy. Now I need to consult with all of you about it. I’m afraid my busy schedule is making it tricky for me to teach you during the week. Thursday afternoon was my only free spot, but now I’ve discovered that one of my most regular students wants that time for sculpture lessons.”

Now her expression was pleading. “I’d like to switch special art to Saturday afternoons. We could have it at my studio, which is a much more productive space than here. And we could make the class longer—three hours instead of two. I wouldn’t charge any more for the extra time. If you aren’t able to do this, I’ll have to cancel my other student, which would be such a shame. What do you think? Are you all able to attend on Saturdays? I know that two of you are boarders, but Miss Guppy said you could come on the streetcar.”

“That would be fine!” said Katherine. “I’d much rather have a longer class.”

“I’ll have to ask my parents, but I’m sure it’s no problem,” said Jane.

Dottie and Margaret also agreed.

Polly’s head whirled. If she went to the Saturday classes, she wouldn’t be able to go home for the weekends!

“That’s excellent, girls,” said Miss Falconer. “What about you, Polly?”

“I don’t know yet,” Polly whispered. She felt as if someone had given her a wonderful present, then snatched it away.

“Oh, dear … we would miss you so much if you couldn’t attend. Let Miss Guppy know as soon as you’ve decided, and she’ll telephone me.”

That evening Polly was summoned to Miss Guppy’s study.

“I’m sorry Miss Falconer has had to change the class,” she said. “Of course this means you’ll now have to board full time. I know you didn’t want that, Polly, but you’ll soon get to enjoy it.”

The Guppy didn’t look sorry at all; she looked like a cat that had just finished a bowl of cream.

“I haven’t decided anything yet,” said Polly tightly. “I’m going to talk to my grandmother about it.”

“Well, it’s up to you. Let me know on Monday. But you’d be a foolish girl indeed if you lost this opportunity. Miss Falconer talked to me before she left. She says you’re very talented for your age, and she hopes you decide to stay on.”

For all of Friday, Polly was in a fog of misery. She didn’t even cheer up when she got a letter from Daddy. He told her he was bored in Winnipeg, but soon they would be together again. “I hope that boarding school is better than you expected,” he finished. “I know you will be my brave
girl and take advantage of this wonderful opportunity to learn and grow. Please write and tell me all about it.”

Polly couldn’t write back to Daddy. She couldn’t think. All she wanted was to curl up on her bed with Tarka and weep with disappointment.

P
OLLY KNEW SHE HAD TO TALK TO
N
ONI ABOUT HER
dilemma, but she couldn’t bear to bring it up until Saturday morning.

“Oh, Noni, I don’t know what to do!” she wailed. After she’d told her, Noni handed her a handkerchief. Polly blew her nose and waited.

“I already know,” said Noni. “Miss Guppy telephoned me yesterday and tried to persuade me to let you stay on the weekends.”

“She phoned you? But she said it was up to
me
to decide!”

“That’s what I told her, Polly. Now, let’s discuss this calmly. I’ve heard of Frieda Falconer. I’ve even gone to one of her exhibitions in Vancouver. She’s an excellent artist, hen. I can’t believe she’s agreeing to teach you!”

“I really liked her,” said Polly. “She’s friendly and interesting and she praised my drawing! She’s going to teach us oil painting and pastels and even working with clay. But oh, Noni, how can I not come home every weekend? I know there’s no boat on Saturday nights, but couldn’t I just come on Sundays?”

“You know that wouldn’t work, hen. You’d just have to go back a few hours later.”

Polly pounded the bed with her fist. “I
hate
St. Winifred’s! It’s bad enough to have to stay during the week!”

Noni took her hand. “I don’t have to tell you how much I’ll miss you if you become a full-time boarder. We all will! But try to think about this clearly. You’d be home for Thanksgiving, your half-term holiday in November, and Christmas—that’s once a month. And what an opportunity for you. To study with such an accomplished artist.”

“So what should I
do
?”

Noni looked grave. “That’s up to you, hen. Tomorrow you’ll turn thirteen. I think you’re old enough to make your own decision. I promise you I’ll accept it, whatever it is.”

“But—”

Noni waved away the rest of her words. “Why don’t you go to your room and make a list? Write down all the pros and cons, and tell me your decision before lunch. Then you can enjoy your party.” She kissed Polly’s forehead. “And I have a wonderful surprise for you!”

Polly didn’t feel at all old enough. She climbed onto her bed and squeezed Tarka so hard he jumped off.

She didn’t need to write a list; there were only two considerations, and they both involved giving up something. Either she lost being on the island every weekend, or she lost the opportunity to have lessons from a real artist who was inspiring and supportive and made her feel special.

What would Noni want her to do? And Daddy, and Maud? Polly knew the answer. But was that what
she
wanted?

I can go to art school after I graduate
, she tried to tell herself.
Then I’ll learn all the things Miss Falconer is going to teach us. And I’m only going to stay at the school for a year, anyway
.

It was no use. Polly’s deepest desire was to be an artist. How could she turn down such an opportunity?

She trudged downstairs and found Noni in the dining room, setting the table for the party. “I’ve decided,” she said woodenly. “I’ll be a full-time boarder so I can take special art.”

“Oh, hen!” To Polly’s surprise, her grandmother’s eyes were teary. “I’m so proud of you. You’re putting your future needs ahead of your present comfort. That’s a true sign of growing up.”

“I don’t
want
to do it!” cried Polly. “I just can’t help it.”

“In many ways I don’t want you to, either. You’re very young to be away from home so much, and I’ll miss you terribly.
But you’ve made the right choice. Think of how lucky you are to receive such good training so young. I wish
I’d
been able to study art. You’ll be very glad one day that you’ve made this decision.” Noni hugged her. “What a brave, sensible lassie you are! Now I must telephone Miss Guppy and talk about the extra fees. You’ll need more clothing for Sundays, as well.” She bustled to the telephone.

Polly fled to the beach with Tarka. Already she regretted her decision.

Polly sat at the head of the table with a mound of presents in front of her. She gazed at the smiling faces of her family and friends, and tried to smile back. Then she noticed that there was an empty chair.

“Surprise!” Maud pranced into the room from the kitchen and engulfed Polly in a hug.

“
Maud!
I thought you couldn’t come!”

Maud pried off Polly’s arms and added a small present to the pile. “I thought I couldn’t, either, but then my class was cancelled. Noni and I decided I’d surprise you.”

“How well you look, Maud!” said Aunt Jean.

Biddy and Vivien gaped at her as she sat down. Maud glowed with self-assurance. She wore a blue suit that emphasized her curves. Her thick bob of hair was curled
into even waves. Around her neck was a strand of pearls, and she even wore earrings.

“How’s university treating you?” Uncle Rand asked.

“Let’s talk about that later,” said Maud. “This is
Polly’s
day! Aren’t you going to open your presents?”

Opening presents, blowing out thirteen candles, and enjoying her favourite cake lifted Polly’s gloom for a time. Maud’s small box revealed a set of the china dogs that Polly collected. Biddy and Vivien had pooled their money and bought her some green barrettes. Aunt Jean had knitted Polly her annual sweater—this year it was pink. Mrs. Hooper had wrapped up a movie magazine, which Biddy and Vivien immediately seized. Daddy had sent some handkerchiefs all the way from Winnipeg. They were embroidered with her initials. Gregor and Sadie had sent a book called
National Velvet
.

Then Noni handed Polly a blue velvet box. Inside was a short strand of pearls. “Oh, Noni, they’re beautiful,” breathed Polly, running the cool beads through her fingers.

“They belonged to my mother,” said Noni. “I offered them to
your
mother once, but she didn’t want them. They’re only to be worn for special occasions.”

“Thank you!” said Polly. She’d never owned anything so grown-up. Daddy had bought Maud her pearls in the days before the crash, when he had a steady job. Now Polly had some, too!

“Time for bumps!” shouted Vivien. She and Biddy and Maud seized Polly and bumped her on the carpet thirteen times. Polly laughed so hard she thought she’d throw up her cake.

After the guests went home, the family had a light supper. Maud chattered about university all through the meal.

“Well, you certainly seem to like it,” said Aunt Jean, after Maud had regaled them with stories about her courses and the residence and frosh dances and rushing for the sorority. “Are you sure you’re eating enough, chickie? You’ve slimmed down.”

Maud chuckled. “I needed to, don’t you think? Yes, I’m getting plenty to eat. The food’s as terrible as it was at St. Winnie’s, but Ann and I buy sausages and cook them over the fireplace in the lounge.”

“I don’t know how you have time to study with all those activities,” said Noni.

Maud shrugged. “I only have five courses—that seems so few compared with school.”

Polly listened to her answer Uncle Rand’s question about her history professor. She didn’t mind sharing Maud with the others; she’d have her all to herself later.

“Polly, aren’t you going to tell everyone your decision?” Noni asked.

Polly was trying not to think about it. “I’ve decided to be a full-time boarder, because I want to take special art and it’s only on Saturdays,” she muttered.

Maud beamed at her. “You’re going to board full time? That’s swell, Doodle! The boarders have so much fun on the weekends. You’ll love it.”

“Polly’s art teacher is Frieda Falconer,” Noni told them. “She’s a well-known Canadian artist.”

“What a wonderful opportunity, chickie!” said Aunt Jean.

“But it will be hard for you not to come home,” said Uncle Rand gently.

Polly gave him a sad smile. He was the only one who understood.

As usual when Maud was home, she came into Polly’s room and sat on the bed to chat.

“How’s school?” she asked immediately, as Tarka demanded that she rub his tummy. “I enjoyed your letter, but you didn’t tell me how you liked it.”

What could Polly say? Maud had loved boarding school. She wouldn’t understand any of the things Polly hated about it.

Polly shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Are my friends looking out for you?”

Polly nodded.

“Tell me more about your roommates! Who’s your homeroom teacher?”

Polly didn’t want to waste one minute talking about school, but she had to tell Maud all about the Fearless Four and the Hornet.

“I miss St. Winnie’s sometimes,” said Maud, “but it’s fabulous to be so free. There are no bells and no rules, and I can wear my own clothes. We have a nightly curfew, but apart from that I can do what I want.”

Maud’s face was thinner, which made her long nose and strong chin stand out even more confidently. “You look so happy,” Polly said.

“I am! Oh, Doodle, everything was so
hard
before! Being so poor, all the trouble about Daddy, moving here … Now Daddy is almost free, and I adore U.B.C. And … oh, Poll—I think I’m in love! But don’t tell Noni about Robert yet. I’ll write to her about him. I may bring him home for Thanksgiving. Then you’ll be able to meet him.” She spoke as if that were an enormous privilege.

“I like your hair,” said Polly. “How did you get it so even?”

“It’s called a ‘marcel wave.’ Ann did it with her curling iron.” Maud appraised Polly. “Doodle, don’t you think it’s about time you cut
your
hair? It would wave naturally, not like mine.”

“Cut my hair? But Daddy—”

“Daddy wouldn’t care. He didn’t mind when
I
got a bob. Do it, Poll! I could cut it for you tomorrow.”

“No!” Polly frowned. “I like it long and so do Daddy and Noni.” As soon as she said that, however, she thought of how she was the only one at school with long hair.

“You’re so pretty, Poll, but you’d look even prettier with a bob. Will you at least think about it?”

“Oh, all right. Maybe I’ll do it one day, but not yet.”

They grinned at each other. “By the way, Maud, Miss Guppy told me to remind you to write to her.”

Maud looked guilty. “I keep putting it off. I went to her church and I hated it! All they talked about was how sinful we were. I …” Maud hesitated.

“What?”

“Well, it’s hard to admit this after how certain I was before, but I don’t feel the same about religion as I did at school. Robert has to go to church with his family, but he told me he’s an agnostic.”

“What’s
that
?”

“It means he doesn’t know for sure if God exists. We have long arguments about it. I don’t agree with him—I
absolutely
believe in God. But the Guppy’s God is so black and white. I think he’s a lot more mysterious and complicated. But I can’t tell her that.”

“Why don’t you just write her a short note and don’t say anything about religion at all,” suggested Polly.

“I guess I could, but I know she’ll suspect something.”

Then Maud laughed. “But you know what, Poll? She’s not in charge of me anymore!”

Polly shuddered. “You’re lucky.”

“Are you all right about deciding to be a full-time boarder?” Maud asked. “You’re so attached to the island I know you’ll miss coming home.”

“I don’t want to do it, but if I want to be an artist I
have
to,” said Polly.

“Good for you! Daddy would be so proud. Have any of the girls asked about him being cleared?”

“Not yet. But some of them know, I think. They give me strange looks.”

“Just ignore them. I’ve told Ann all about Daddy, and I’m sure lots of my other friends know, but they’re too polite to mention it. Oh, Doodle, in a few months we’ll see him again!”

After Maud left, Polly pulled Tarka up to lie on her pillow so she could breathe in his skunky smell and stroke his soft ears. She wouldn’t be able to cuddle with him again until Thanksgiving.

“Oh, Tarka, I
hate
turning thirteen!” she whispered. Already it seemed like an unlucky number.

Miss Guppy pumped Polly’s hand so hard it hurt. “Good for you, my dear!” she barked. “You won’t regret this. I’ll telephone Miss Falconer right away and let her know. You’re going to love being here all the time, I promise.” She gazed at Polly hungrily, like a spider that had caught her prey.

Alice approved, as well. Polly told her on Monday, when they were both supposed to be practising. “That’s absolutely the best decision!” she said warmly. “We’re so lucky, aren’t we?”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know what we want to do when we grow up, and we’re already getting good training for it.” Twice a week, Alice went to singing lessons.

“I guess you’re right,” said Polly slowly, “but I wish I didn’t have to stay on the weekends to do it.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said Alice. “The boarders get taken to concerts and plays sometimes—even movies.” She thumped Polly’s back. “Cheer up, Goldilocks! This is good news, not bad!”

That night Polly had another cake and candles before bedtime. The Fearless Four had asked the school cook to make it for a surprise.

“I’m so glad you’ll be with us all the time now, Poll,” said Daisy, after they had sung to her. “Now we’re
really
the Fearless Four!”

Polly tried to share their enthusiasm.

The next day after school, Mrs. Blake took Polly downtown on the streetcar to buy her the clothes she needed for Sundays. “You need a navy wool dress,” she told her in the store.

“How about this one?” Polly held up a dress with yellow polka dots on its short sleeves and collar.

Mrs. Blake examined her list. “I’m afraid not, love. It says long-sleeved, with no coloured trimmings.” She found a dress that was so plain that it made Polly feel erased. At least she liked the shoes, which had something called “Cuban heels.”

“Can I get silk stockings?” she asked hopefully.

“No silk stockings until the lower fifth,” said Mrs. Blake, picking out some wool ones.

Polly wouldn’t be here then. Buying this dress was just as much a waste as having bought the rest of her uniform.