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BOOK: And Nothing But the Truth
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To their amazement, they won! That meant they were allowed to go to a movie of their choice. Next Saturday afternoon, Mrs. Blake took them to see Laurel and Hardy’s
Bonnie Scotland
at the Capital Theatre. Polly hadn’t seen a movie since she’d lived in Winnipeg. She was as absorbed as the others, but watching the antics of Stan Laurel made her ache for Daddy; he had often imitated him.

The Fearless Four had now gained respect in the upper fourth classroom for being the only boarders. “You must have such larks!” Ivy told them one day at break.

“We do!” said Daisy. “We have pillow fights and sneak food into the dorm.”

Polly didn’t want Ivy to think that being a boarder was fun. “But the food is terrible, and we have to go to bed at nine o’clock!” she told her.

“Don’t listen to Polly,” said Rhoda. “The food isn’t that bad, and we talk for ages after lights out.”

“I wish
I
could be a boarder,” said Ivy. “I’ve begged my parents, but they won’t let me.”

Rhoda looked smug. “That’s too bad. You’re missing a really good time.”

Ivy walked away. “Why did you tell her that?” Polly asked Rhoda. “You said boarding school was like being in an army!”

“I don’t think so anymore. Last week my parents were talking to Miss Guppy and she told them I’ve adjusted really well.” Rhoda appraised Polly. “Maybe you’re just too young for boarding school, and that’s why
you
haven’t adjusted.”

Polly bristled. “I’m only a few months younger than you are, Rhoda!”

“I guess I’m just more mature, then,” said Rhoda.

The bell for the end of break rang before Polly could think of a retort.

Polly still didn’t contribute much to the long conversations after lights out, but she listened with interest one night when Daisy said, “Wasn’t it awful when Edna Cooper fainted during assembly? She almost hit her head!”

“I wonder why people faint,” said Eleanor.

“I bet I know,” said Rhoda. She paused dramatically. “I bet Edna got her monthlies!”

“Really?” Daisy was scared. “Is that what happens when you get them? You faint?”

Now Rhoda sounded uncertain. “Maybe … I haven’t started yet, so I don’t know.”

“Of course that’s not what happens,” said Eleanor. “I started menstruating last month, and I certainly didn’t faint.”

“You’ve had your period? Why didn’t you tell us?” demanded Rhoda.

“I didn’t think it was anyone’s business,” said Eleanor.

“You’re the first one!” said Rhoda. “Unless you’ve started, Polly.”

“Uh-uh,” muttered Polly, glad it was dark so they couldn’t see her hot cheeks.

“Tell us what it’s like, El!” urged Rhoda.

Eleanor proceeded to tell them. She was as reassuring and calm as usual. Polly shuddered, however. She didn’t want to take part in this strange grown-up ritual, but she had no choice.

Polly and Alice—and Chester, as well—were on the boat, going home for the half-term holiday in November. Polly sat with the other two in the lounge, listening to them chat about the inter-school debating competition. Chester had his back to Polly. He probably liked Alice more than her; after all, they were the same age.

Finally, Chester turned around. “I hope your headmistress didn’t ream you out for talking to me at the concert,” he said.

Polly grimaced. “She did! But I don’t care.”

“How do you like school so far?”

“I hate it—except for special art.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said Alice.

That didn’t help. Polly
was
used to it now, but it didn’t mean she liked it any better.

“Why didn’t you come home for Thanksgiving?” Alice asked Chester.

“My parents decided to visit Victoria, instead. We had a good time, but I’m excited about being on the island again.”

“I’m not,” said Alice glumly. They both looked at her with sympathy.

Maud was not able to come home this weekend. Polly was almost glad, since all Maud’s letters were about two dreary subjects: Robert and the D.G.s.

Biddy wasn’t there, either. She’d gone with her family to visit her relatives in Comox. Polly went for a bike ride with Vivien, but all she wanted to talk about was Donald. She listed for Polly all the indications that meant he liked her. “I think George likes Biddy, too,” she said. “He keeps staring at her in church! Don’t
you
have anyone you’re sweet on?”

Polly shook her head.

“That’s because you never see boys. Poor you … I’d
hate
to go to a girls school!”

Polly didn’t want to tell her about Chester. The silly way Vivien giggled about Donald seemed so trivial compared with the special connection that she and Chester had. And they were just
friends
, Polly told herself firmly.

All the same, she felt a thrill that he was on the island, as well. She watched out for him wherever she went. Chester smiled at her in church, but she was disappointed when he walked away with his parents and didn’t stay for coffee time.

At Sunday dinner, all that Polly’s relatives could talk about was how Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt, the owners of the island hotel, had just put it up for sale.

“What are they thinking?” said Aunt Jean. “They’ll never sell it in these hard times!”

“Addie Wyatt told me her father is ill. They’re going to live in Vancouver and take care of him,” said Noni. “But I agree with you, Jean. No one is going to buy it, and who will tend it after the Wyatts leave? It would be such a shame if it became derelict.”

“Perhaps you should buy it back, Clara,” suggested Uncle Rand.

Before she had come into her husband’s money, Noni had once owned the hotel herself. “Buy it back?” She shook her head. “That would be far too much work. I’m too old!”

“You could hire someone to run it,” said Uncle Rand. “There are plenty of couples who would jump at the chance.”

“But why would Clara want to spend all that money?” asked Jean. “Really, Rand, you’re very impractical sometimes.”

As usual, the adults’ talk buzzed around Polly, while she thought about far more important matters … like Chester’s smile.

Too soon, Polly was back at school. After the house meeting one week, Babs took her aside. “Polly, you’ve received more order marks this term than anyone else! What would Maud think of you?”

“Sorry,” muttered Polly. “I don’t get them on purpose.”
And I don’t give a fig what Maud thinks
, she added to herself.
Maud doesn’t care about me anymore—all she cares about is Robert
.

It was another soggy November day. The rain had thundered down all week and they were confined indoors, even for break. Polly felt like a caged animal. On days like this at home, she could snuggle with Tarka in front of the fire. Here, all the rooms were cold and drafty. Despite her woolly layers of tunic and blazer, she never felt warm.

On Monday she had sat in history and daydreamed about what she’d make in special art that week: now they were working with clay. She hadn’t heard a question from the Hornet, and received an order mark. The next day she received another one when she dropped her math homework in a puddle.

Polly had now received eight order marks; that meant she had a conduct mark for the first five. But the numbers against her name in the hall no longer embarrassed her. The punishment for her conduct mark had been to clean all the classroom blackboards; that wasn’t onerous.

“Let’s see if we can think of how you can
gain
points for Sussex!” said Babs chirpily. “Why don’t you try out for house basketball or debating or the school play?”

“I don’t like any of those things,” said Polly haughtily. What a prig Babs was, and how stupid houses were! She wasn’t even going to be here next year, so why should she bother to gain house points? She tried to ignore the hurt look on Babs’s face.

Polly cheered up when they began rehearsing Christmas carols for the school concert. That meant that soon she’d be able to go home for three whole weeks! And in early December, Noni and Aunt Jean came to Victoria for the weekend to do their Christmas shopping. Polly was allowed to spend all of Saturday with them. She hated missing special art, but she couldn’t
not
see her family.

“Robert’s mother wrote to me and asked if Maud could spend Christmas with them,” said Noni as they ate their lunch at the hotel restaurant. “I don’t know what she was thinking! It’s not at all proper when they aren’t even engaged. Maud has also asked me. But I’ve told her she has to come home.”

“Good!” said Polly. “Are Gregor and Sadie coming, too?”

Aunt Jean shook her head. “They can’t until New Year’s. That’s the problem with being a clergyman—Christmas is the busiest time of the year.”

“Is there anything special you’d like for Christmas, hen?” Noni asked.

“I’d love some pastels,” said Polly.

“And you need a new dress,” said Aunt Jean. “You’re getting so tall, chickie, that one is looking skimpy.” Then she grinned. “There’s something else you need, young lady—a brassiere!”

“Don’t make her uncomfortable, Jean,” said Noni. She smiled at Polly, as well. “But you
are
getting a figure, hen. After lunch we’ll buy you a brassiere.”

Polly blushed. Her chest was growing as fast as her height. A few weeks ago, Rhoda had rudely pointed out that Polly needed a brassiere. It would be a huge relief to get one, but how embarrassing to talk about it.

She had to bring up another awkward topic. “Noni, Daddy’s planning to arrive on the island on the third of January. Is that all right?”

Polly braced herself for the frown that always appeared on Noni’s face whenever Polly mentioned Daddy. Then, as usual, Noni replaced it with a brittle smile. “Of course, Polly!”

“You must be so excited about seeing him again,” said Aunt Jean.

Polly could only nod. “Excited” was too mild a word; every time she thought of being in Daddy’s arms again she wanted to explode. If only her family were looking forward to seeing him at least a bit!

On the second-last day of term, the Hornet handed out their report cards. Polly had done well in all her subjects except math, but at least in that she received a C+. Then she stared at the bottom of the sheet of paper. She had failed drawing!

“Polly has consistently ignored instructions in class,” wrote Miss Netherwood. “She shows no talent for the exercises, and is recalcitrant when offered assistance. There is no point in submitting her work to the Royal Drawing Society, and I recommend that she withdraw from the course.”

Polly’s cheeks burned. Miss Netherwood was lying. Lately, Polly had done everything she was supposed to, and of course she was talented! And what did “recalcitrant” mean?

She read the comments again with mixed feelings. To fail something was humiliating, but perhaps she wouldn’t have to take drawing anymore.

That evening Miss Guppy spoke to her. “I simply cannot understand, Polly, why someone who is supposed to be so good at art can fail drawing. Miss Netherwood is convinced,
however, that you will never pass the requirements for the certificate. I could ask her to let you stay, as long as you try harder.”

“I
do
try!” said Polly. “Miss Netherwood just doesn’t like me.”

“Don’t be saucy, young lady. You are not to blame a teacher for something that’s your fault.”

“Do I have to keep taking it?” Polly asked. She waited, knowing how the Guppy hated a student to get her own way.

“Very well,” said Miss Guppy finally. “I’ll ask Mrs. Partridge to give you extra math in that period—you can certainly stand to improve there.”

Polly skipped up to the dorm. Extra math was boring, but she didn’t care. No more Miss Netherwood! And tomorrow, after the concert, she was going home.

C
HAPTER
N
INE
DADDY AT LAST

C
HRISTMAS WAS A HAPPY BLUR
. P
OLLY RECEIVED HER
pastels and a new dress and many other presents. But all through the celebration, she could only think of one thing: Daddy was coming!

Gregor and Sadie arrived in time for Hogmanay. Polly hadn’t seen them since their wedding in August. “Polly-wog!” cried her cousin, smacking her cheek. “You’ve turned into a young lady!”

“Hi, kiddo,” said Sadie. She appraised Polly. “Gregor’s right—you’re looking very grown-up.”

Polly crossed her arms. Why did everyone have to notice her bosom? It was rude.

Maud crushed Sadie in a hug. “I have so much to tell you!” After tea they disappeared for a long walk.
Poor
Sadie
, thought Polly. All she would hear about was boring Robert.

At midnight, after Gregor had knocked on the door as the “First Footer,” they all went outside with their champagne and toasted the new year. Polly was allowed half a glass. She savoured it slowly. The night was so still she could hear faint cheers and bells and boat whistles through the darkness, even from Walker Island across from them.

She stared at the radiant moon. What would 1936 bring? First of all Daddy. That was the best. Then two more terms of school—ugh—but also two more terms of special art. In June, she’d have to tell Noni she wouldn’t go back. Noni would be so disappointed; so would Daddy and Maud.
But I’m not changing my mind!
vowed Polly. June was a long way away; she didn’t have to worry about it yet.

The next day they celebrated Maud’s nineteenth birthday. Robert telephoned after lunch, and she talked to him for ten minutes. Noni scolded her. “You know how expensive calls are, Maud!”

“Sorry, Noni,” said Maud. She yawned. “I think I’ll go and lie down before my party.” Maud had slept in every morning, and she had a long nap every afternoon.

“Poor lass, she’s worn out with all her studies,” said Aunt Jean.

But Polly was puzzled. Maud’s boundless energy had never been diminished by working hard.

At long last, the day came when Polly and Maud walked to the wharf to wait for Daddy’s boat.

“It’s really
you
!” Polly cried as they ran into his embrace. What a change from the shabby father she had hidden in the woods a year and a half ago! Daddy’s suit was worn but clean, and his grey hat sat tilted at a jaunty angle. His handsome face with its distinguished long nose was clean-shaven. Last time, he had been so broken in spirit that Polly had felt like his parent instead of his child. Now, although Daddy looked sheepish and apprehensive, he grinned as he had in the old days.

“I have my girls back,” he said, his voice breaking. “And how beautiful you both are! Yes, yes, you’re beautiful, too,” he added as Tarka jumped up. He studied them greedily. “I see you’re wearing the necklaces I gave you.”

“I never take mine off!” said Maud.

Polly fingered the silver heart. “I’m not allowed to wear mine at school, but I always wear it at home.”

They began to walk along the road. Then Daddy stopped and rubbed his hand over his face the way he always did when he was nervous. “I want to apologize to you, my darlings.”

“You already did,” said Maud. “There’s no need to again.”

“I wrote to you, but that’s not the same. I’m so sorry, Maud and Polly, that I put you through what I did. I’m sorry I stole the money and I’m sorry I abandoned you. Most of all, I’m sorry I lied.”

“That’s all over with now,” said Maud briskly. “Right, Poll?”

“Right!” said Polly. If only Daddy would stop talking about the past! His words opened wounds she thought had healed a long time ago.

“Do you forgive your old father?” Daddy asked them.

“Of course we do!” said Maud. “We’ve told you that in our letters, Daddy. You’ve made your confession, and now you’re free. Let’s leave all that behind us now.”

Daddy chuckled. “Yes, Boss. How about you, my Polly-Wolly-Doodle?”

It had taken Polly longer to forgive Daddy than it had Maud. Now, however, all the sorry business about his theft seemed far away. “I forgive you
utterly
,” she whispered.

Daddy’s eyes glistened. “I know you wrote me that, but I had to hear it in person. Thank you.”

He picked up a hand of each. “All right, let’s go and face the dragons!”

They walked to the house hand in hand, swinging their arms. When they passed the Cunninghams’ place, Polly lifted her head proudly. Mrs. Cunningham would be watching from behind her lace curtains, but here was Daddy, free
to be out in the open at last! As they approached Noni’s house, however, Polly started to worry.

Noni was waiting on the porch. “Hello, Daniel,” she said quietly, holding out her hand. “I’m very glad to see you again. Please come in and join us for tea.” Her words sounded rehearsed.

Daddy sat awkwardly on the sofa, like a prisoner who longed to escape. Maud and Polly guarded him on each side, and Tarka perched proudly on his lap. Polly clenched her hands when Aunt Jean eyed Daddy’s frayed cuffs and the cracked polish on his old shoes.

Uncle Rand made a formal little speech about how glad they were that Daddy had been cleared. Aunt Jean tittered. Gregor grinned foolishly and Sadie looked so sorry for Daddy that Polly wanted to shake her.

“What are you planning to do now?” asked Noni.

“I’ll go back to Kelowna and resume my old job.”

“And what was that?”

Polly squirmed. Couldn’t Noni make her voice warmer?

“I’ve been laying bricks,” said Daddy. He returned Noni’s stony expression just as stonily. “Just as my father did,” he added firmly.

“Where will you live in Kelowna?” asked Uncle Rand.

“Where I did before, in a boarding house.” Daddy turned to Noni again. “I’m hoping that Maud and Polly can visit me at Easter. There’s an extra room.”

Noni looked frightened. “Easter? But we want to see them, too!”

“Of course you do. How long a break do you get then, girls?”

“Two weeks,” Polly told him.

“I’m not sure,” said Maud. “It depends when my exams are.”

Daddy smiled at Noni. “Then how about if they stay with me
after
Easter, for the second part of Polly’s holidays? Polly could come for a week and Maud for as long as she can manage.”

“That would be all right,” said Noni, giving him back a strained smile.

They had Daddy for only two days; he planned to leave on Sunday. The family left him alone with the girls, except for meals. The first day was clear and crisp. They bundled up and went for a long walk.

Maud chattered non-stop about U.B.C. Polly was content just to hold on to Daddy’s large hand.

Daddy heard all about Maud’s courses and Delta Gamma and far too much about Robert for Polly’s taste. “I joined the Players’ Club,” said Maud. “They’re doing
She Stoops to Conquer
in March and I have a tiny role! That’s
unusual for a freshman. And Robert got on the rugby team!”

“I’m glad that you’re having such a good time, Maudie,” said Daddy. “What about you, Doodle? How do you like St. Winifred’s?”

Polly answered carefully. There was no point in telling Daddy how much she hated school. He would be so worried and so disappointed. She tried to sound enthusiastic, which wasn’t hard when she talked about art.

“How lucky you are!” he told her, picking up a stick and throwing it for Tarka. “Maybe you’ll be a real artist one day!”

“Oh, I will!” said Polly with surprise. She had known that for so long it seemed unnecessary to say it.

“And I’m going to be a lawyer!” said Maud.

Daddy grinned. “What smart girls I have! The best thing that happened to you was to come and live with your grandmother. You wouldn’t have had such a good education if you hadn’t.” His words sounded automatic, as if he had been repeating them to himself for years.

Maud and Polly were silent. “It
wasn’t
the best thing,” said Polly slowly. “We would rather have lived with you.”

Daddy rubbed his face. “Girls, I …”

“Let’s not talk about any of that,” said Maud briskly. “It’s over now. Daddy, did I tell you that I’m thinking of becoming a Quaker? There’s a girl in my residence who’s one. I went to a service with her and I really liked it. They just sit still until someone feels like speaking.”

“A quacker? Funny … you don’t look like a duck.”

Maud leaped upon him and began tickling him the way she used to in Winnipeg. Polly attacked Maud. They were a threesome again, almost as if the preceding years hadn’t happened.

“Hi, Polly!” Biddy and Vivien were standing on the road ahead. Polly suspected they’d planted themselves there on purpose. She hadn’t seen them much this holiday, although she and Biddy and Biddy’s brother Luke had inspected one another’s presents on Christmas Day the way they always did.

“Come and meet my father,” called Polly.

“Hello there!” said Daddy, shaking their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about the two of you!”

They just stood there clumsily, staring at Daddy as if he had risen from the dead.
Which he has in a way
, Polly thought,
since for a long time everyone thought he
was
dead
.

“What’s
wrong
with everyone?” Polly asked Maud in her bedroom on Saturday night. “They treat Daddy as if he’s a criminal!”

“He is,” said Maud quietly.

“Don’t
say
that!”

“Poll, listen to me. Daddy stole some money. He
confessed, but no one can forget that he did it. And no one’s used to him yet. The family hasn’t seen him since he and Mother were married, and your friends have never met him at all. It’s just too new. And it’s too strange for them, since they thought Daddy was dead.”

“I can see why Biddy and Vivien would be shy with him,” said Polly. “But it’s more than that with Noni and Aunt Jean and Gregor. They disapprove because he stole the money, but it’s as if they know a secret about him … and Daddy knows they know. They don’t seem to
like
him.”

“They never did, Doodle. There was some kind of quarrel a long time ago, but we’ll probably never find out what it was.” Maud yawned. “I’m so tired. Go to bed now, Poll, and don’t worry what everyone thinks of Daddy. The only important thing is that
we
love him.”

Polly smiled at her and said good night.

Daddy told them he wouldn’t attend church. “Everyone will stare at me, and that will embarrass you all,” he said at breakfast.

Noni looked relieved, and gave Polly and Maud permission to stay home with him.

Outside it was rainy, but inside they huddled around the fire and played chess. Polly could hardly concentrate. In a few hours, Daddy would be gone.

Maud, as well, seemed restless. “This is boring,” she said, putting down her pawn. “Poll, I have an idea—let’s bob your hair!”

“No!” said Polly. But she glanced at Daddy to see his reaction.

He chuckled. “Doodle, were you wanting to cut your hair?”

“Maud thinks I should,” mumbled Polly.

“Do
you
want to?”

“I might,” said Polly slowly, “but what about you, Daddy? You always said you loved my long hair.”

Daddy hugged her. “I always did. But I would love your hair any way it was, because I love
you
. If you want to cut it, it’s fine with me.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s your hair, after all. You’re lucky to have so much of it,” he added ruefully. Daddy’s thick hair used to hang over his forehead. Now the front of his scalp was almost bare.

“So, do you want to, Poll?” asked Maud. “I’m good at cutting hair—I do Ann’s all the time.”

Polly hesitated. Her long hair had been part of her all her life. But she was thirteen now. It would be swell to look more grown-up, and she was tired of being the only one at school without a bob.

“All right,” she whispered.

“Good for you! Let’s go into the kitchen so we don’t get hair all over the carpet.”

Polly sat on a stool in the middle of the kitchen with a towel draped around her shoulders. When Maud approached her with the scissors that Noni used to cut flowers, Polly wanted to change her mind—but it was too late. Already the cold blades were against her neck and long strands of hair were drifting onto the linoleum.

Polly closed her eyes tightly and tried not to cry as the scissors snipped away. This was a huge mistake! She would look awful, and everyone would tease her, and her hair would take forever to grow out again.

“There!” said Maud finally. She shook the towel out the back door, then wiped off Polly with it. “Oh, Doodle, you look
beautiful
!”

“You really do,” said Daddy.

Maud ran out and returned immediately with a small mirror. “See for yourself.”

Polly stared at the strange girl in the mirror. She had
her
face, but it was framed with soft waves of blond hair. It made her eyes look bigger. Her neck felt cold, but her head felt delightfully light and free.

“Well? Do you like it? Say something!” Maud actually sounded frightened.

“I—I
do
like it! Oh, Maud, thank you!”

Maud was sweeping up Polly’s hair when someone
knocked loudly on the kitchen door. Polly opened it to a dripping wet Alice.

“Hi, Polly—I love your bob! I ran over from the parish hall,” she puffed. “Can I meet your father?”

Polly didn’t have time to answer; Alice had already pushed her way in. “Hi, Mr. Brown!” she said, sticking out a hand.

Daddy chuckled. “Well, hi to you, too. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“I’m Alice Mackenzie, a friend of Polly’s from St. Winifred’s.”

Daddy asked her more questions and she gazed at him hungrily between answers.
She wishes he were
her
father
, Polly realized. Poor Alice—she’d probably never see her own father, who had left her when she was a little girl. At least Daddy was in Polly’s life, even though it wasn’t all the time.

Polly had forgotten that her grandmother also liked her with long hair. When Noni returned from church, she gasped and put her hand to her heart.

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