The Whole Truth Read Free Page A

were Great-Aunt Jean and Great-Uncle Rand. Uncle Rand was as moon-faced as his son, but he had hardly any hair. Hepecked Polly’s cheek. “Welcome, young lady,” he said quietly. “We’re blessed to have you with us at last.”
    The next kiss was from Aunt Jean, a spry little woman, holding a cigarette, with short springy hair that curled around her purple hat. “Oh, chickie, you’re the image of your dear mother! She was my niece, you know.”
    Polly couldn’t take this in. Maud had told her about all of these relatives, but the only one Polly had thought about was Grandmother.
    And here she was. A stooped woman in a tweed suit, her hair pinned up neatly. She took Polly’s hands and stood in front of her for a long moment.
    Grandmother’s face was angular and her mouth was set in a straight line. Her sad grey eyes behind her glasses were full of such fierce compassion that Polly almost let her tears loose—but then she would drown in them.
    “Oh, hen, it’s been so, so long since I’ve seen you—not since your mother’s funeral. You were only two … and look at you now!” Her voice was gruff and bubbly, as if her words were water flowing over pebbles. Aunt Jean had the same strange accent, but hers was milder.
    Grandmother didn’t kiss her, but she kept one hand in Polly’s. Her firm grip felt safe, as Aunt Jean and Gregor threw eager questions at Polly and Maud: “Did you enjoy the train?”
    “Was the food good?”
    “Were the Rockies splendid?”
    Maud answered politely, but Polly couldn’t speak. She pressed into her grandmother’s side.
    “Stop pestering them, you two. We’ll hear about their journey soon enough,” said Grandmother.
    Uncle Rand looked worried. “We should get a move on,” he told them.
    They manoeuvred their way through the noisy crowd. In the parking lot they said goodbye to Mrs. Tuttle, who lived in Vancouver. “Thank you
so
much for taking care of Maud and Polly, Lydia,” said Grandmother. “Come and visit us sometime!”
    The Turtle kissed each of the girls. “We ended up having a good time, didn’t we?” she said, smiling at Maud. But Maud had turned away to help Gregor tie their suitcases on top of the car.
    “Where are we going now?” Maud asked, as they left the station.
    “Straight to Steveston to catch the car ferry,” said Aunt Jean. “We should be able to make it if you drive fast, Rand.”
    “I won’t drive any faster than I should, my dear,” said Uncle Rand calmly.
    “How did I end up with such a cautious man?” asked Aunt Jean merrily, turning around to them from the front seat. “He thinks because he’s a rector he has to obey every rule!”
    “A rector?” repeated Maud.
    “Yes, Rand is the rector at our little church on the island. Didn’t you know that, chickie?”
    Maud nodded. “I remember now. Grandmother told us in her letters.”
    It took a long time to reach the ferry terminal. First they were in the city, then they passed fields of cows and horses. Uncle Rand was quiet, but the other adults talked all the way.
    “Clara, I can’t believe you asked Lydia to come and visit!” said Aunt Jean. “I can’t bear that woman!”
    Who was Clara? wondered Polly. Then she realized that Clara was Grandmother.
    “Don’t worry about Lydia, Jean,” said Grandmother. “She’ll never visit. She only came to the island because her husband liked it—she always said it was much too quiet for her taste.”
    “Well, I certainly hope you’re right. Gregor, I want you to remove a wasps’ nest from the church porch roof before the service tomorrow. And we need more wood, and the lawn needs cutting.”
    “Yes, Ma.” Gregor grinned at Polly and Maud. “Isn’t my mother a taskmaster? You’d better be careful, or she’ll have you working as well!”
    “Maud and Polly are not to do anything strenuous this weekend,” said Grandmother. “They’ve had a long journey and I want them to have a good rest.”
    “But don’t forget I have to