The Sky is Falling (21 page)

PART 3

20

Beginning Again

N
orah turned over and stretched. Her arm was in a warm puddle of sunshine. She sat up and peeked through the half-open curtains. The sun was high; she must have slept most of the morning. But it was Saturday, she remembered, and delicious to lie here doing nothing.

Then she grinned; her bed was dry. A strange tranquility filled her from head to toe. She didn't understand it; shouldn't she be in trouble, after all that had happened yesterday?

She got up to go to the bathroom, then luxuriated in bed again. A tantalizing smell of bacon drifted up the stairs. Norah tensed again, as uncertain about what to do next as on her first day in the house. Perhaps she was going to be punished, in spite of her reception last night.

There was a knock on her door and Aunt Florence strode in, carrying a tray. “Are you awake now? You've had a good long sleep. You're to eat up all of this and spend the next two days in bed. Did you know that you fainted last night?”

Norah couldn't remember. She dug into the scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, while Aunt Florence told her how Dr. Morris had come and said she was over-tired and strained. With awe, Norah watched Aunt Florence swish open the curtains and hang up Norah's clothes. She had never come up here before.

“All finished? Good girl. Now, Norah, there are a few things I want to say about last night—then we'll consider the matter closed. I think you must know what a foolish thing it was to wander around the city on your own, especially with your little brother in your charge. Do you promise never to do such a thing again?”

Norah nodded.

“Very well. Do you recall what I said last night?” Another nod. They both looked embarrassed.

“I meant it. After we discovered you were gone Mary told me, in no uncertain terms”—Aunt Florence grimaced, as if she were still in shock—“that it was my fault you ran away. She was right, Norah. I've been so wrapped up with Gavin, I've paid no attention to
you
. Perhaps we are too much alike, you and I. That doesn't mean we can't try to get along.” She paused awkwardly and took the tray over to the table. Then she stood and stared out the window.

Norah looked at her strong back, knowing she should speak but tongue-tied with mixed feelings. Imagine Aunt Mary saying that to her mother!

Was
it Aunt Florence's fault? Not entirely, she thought uncomfortably. She had set herself against Aunt Florence
from the start. Aunt Florence had been just as pigheaded. Now, though, she was giving in first.

“Norah?” The majestic figure turned around and faced the bed. “What do you think? I'm willing to begin again if you are.”

Norah knew how hard it was for her to say that. She smiled apprehensively. “So am I,” she whispered.

“Good! You know, my dear … until you left … I didn't realize how … how fond of you I am.” She walked over and gave Norah a firm kiss on her forehead. Then she sat down on the bed and said, as if nothing had happened, “Now then, would you like me to read to you?”

With relief they both escaped into the safe world of
Five Children and It
. Norah only half-listened. Aunt Florence had kissed her! She felt as if she hadn't woken up yet.

Gavin wandered in and curled up on the end of the bed; then Aunt Mary came up to collect the tray. It was strange, but pleasant, to have so many people in the room that had been her solitary retreat for so long.

Norah was left alone to rest. She snuggled under the eiderdown and thought hard all afternoon. Last night Aunt Florence had asked for “another chance” It looked as if Norah were being given another chance as well. She could begin all over again, as though she had just come to Canada.

The rest of the weekend was punctuated by trays of food, visitors, books and naps. Norah lazed in bed and
made plans. By Sunday evening she was refreshed and strong, with her new resolutions all ready.

S
HE BEGAN AT BREAKFAST
on Monday morning, after Aunt Florence had appeared at the table unexpectedly. “I decided to let Mary sleep in for a change,” she explained.

“Gavin is going to school with me today,” Norah announced.

“
Am
I?” cried Gavin eagerly.

“But …” Aunt Florence started to frown, then she seemed to remember
her
new self and continued in a more controlled tone. “Now, Norah, I agree that, since he's almost six, he's ready for school. But I planned to enroll him at St. Martin's. It's a small private school that will suit him much better than Prince Edward. And I was thinking that after Christmas you could go to Brackley Hall with Paige. Wouldn't you like that? I would pay for both, of course.”

Norah tried to speak as politely as possible. “Thank you, Aunt Florence, but I think we should both go to the same school so I can keep an eye on him.” She looked Aunt Florence in the eye. “I'm sure that's what my parents would want.”

This was a conflict conducted on different terms than before—being civilized instead of out of control. Norah sat up straighter, enjoying herself. She knew she was going to win.

Aunt Florence hesitated, then smiled slightly. “Very well, if you think that's best, Norah. But he doesn't need to start now. He can wait till after Christmas.”

“Oh, Aunt Florence, don't you think he might start now?” said Norah patiently. “He's missed so much already. I would hate to have to tell Mum and Dad how much he's missed.” She put down her orange juice glass and waited.

Aunt Florence gave one last try. “Maybe we should ask Gavin. Would you like to go to school, sweetness? To Norah's school, or to a nice private school?”

“To Norah's!” said Gavin loudly.

“All right,” sighed Aunt Florence, “but wouldn't you rather wait until January? Don't forget, we were going to visit Mrs. Teagle today. You know how much you like her cat.”

“I want to go now!” Gavin was so excited he tipped his chair backwards and almost fell off it.

With an odd, surprised look at Norah, Aunt Florence sighed again. “If that's what you want, then you can. I'll phone Mr. Evans and tell him you're coming this morning with Norah.”

N
ORAH HADN
'
T TOLD
Aunt Florence how worried she was that Gavin would be as estranged as she was at school. There were several other war guests in grade one, however; he wouldn't stand out like her. When she checked on him at recess, Gavin was holding out his cupped palms while another small boy poured something into them. “Hello, Norah,” he called. “Dick's trading these wizard marbles for one of my soldiers.” He pocketed the marbles and ran off with Dick after a football.

Norah went to find Bernard by the flagpole. They had a lot to talk about; she hadn't seen him since the night of the fire.

“Where did you go on Friday?” he asked immediately. “Mrs. Ogilvie rang our house to see if you were there.”

“I'd rather not talk about it,” mumbled Norah. Bernard seemed to understand; they discussed Hallowe'en night instead, reviewing all the horrifying details. “Mum was so upset she cried,” said Bernard quietly.

“Would you like to come over after school?” Norah asked, when the bell rang. “Paige is going to meet us there after her piano lesson.”

“I thought I wasn't allowed to!”

“Don't worry—things have changed.”

As the three of them—Norah, Bernard and Gavin—walked home that afternoon, Norah wondered if she were pushing her luck. But she felt strong enough for another battle and took Bernard directly into the den.

“I've brought Bernard home,” she said. “Can we ask Hanny for a snack?”

Aunt Florence looked up from her needlepoint; her arm jerked with surprise. “Bernard? Now, Norah …” She stopped and took a breath. “Uhhh … does your mother know you're here, Bernard?”

“Yes, Mrs. Ogilvie,” said Bernard, trying to hide behind Norah.

Aunt Florence continued to stare at him and Norah felt sorry for her. “Can we have a snack?” she asked again gently.

“I suppose so … go into the kitchen and get something.” She still looked bewildered as they left the room.

Aunt Florence never said anything to Norah about inviting Bernard over; but after that, whenever he came, she treated him with stiff politeness. Norah was grateful; she knew that was the best she could do.

I
NSTEAD OF BEING MAROONED
up in her tower, Norah began to wander almost as freely over the Ogilvies' house as in her own. She even went into Aunt Mary's bedroom sometimes, talking to her as she got dressed to go out. Aunt Mary let her try on her jewellery and her many hats. The only room Norah didn't venture into was Aunt Florence's; that would be going too far.

Norah also began to spend time in the kitchen again and no one objected. “Mary and Hugh used to visit me like this,” said Hanny. “I wondered why you stayed away.”

“But Aunt Florence said I was bothering you!”

“Oh,
her
. You'll soon learn she doesn't mean half the things she says. If I believed her, I would have been let go a hundred times over. The trouble with that one is she speaks before she thinks. I always just listen politely and do what I want. She knows I will, or I wouldn't stay.”

Hanny was right. To win with Aunt Florence, you had to be just as forthright as she was. Her and Norah's personalities still clashed, but their relationship had changed, as if each had a secret respect for the other.

Now Bernard and Paige sometimes played at Norah's house. Gavin often tagged along and got used to being an
extra in their games. School made him braver; sometimes when they went to the Worsleys' he would fight back when Daphne and Barbara teased him.

Norah began to feel as proud of Gavin as Aunt Florence was. “He's a very clever little boy,” Mrs. Ogilvie boasted. “His teacher tells me he's way ahead of the rest of the class.”

Norah took him to the library and introduced him to Miss Gleeson. “I didn't know you had a little brother!” the librarian beamed. “Why haven't you brought him before?”

“He was … um … busy,” mumbled Norah, her cheeks red. “He can read very well for his age. Have you any easy books?”

N
ORAH STILL DIDN
'
T KNOW
what to do about school—how to tackle the problem of her classmates' indifference or Miss Liers's hostility. She wondered if it would be any better if she
did
go to Paige's school; but she knew she couldn't desert Gavin or Bernard. By now she was quite used to being isolated, but she still watched the playground games longingly and wished for more friends. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about her, even Charlie's gang.

Each Tuesday morning Miss Liers took a few minutes to write the war news on the board and ask for contributions. Before, Norah had never offered any. Instead she would stare haughtily into space and think about how much more she knew about the war than the others did.

A few days after Coventry was bombed, she sat in silence while Miss Liers described the damage in sober tones.

“I saw bombs like that on a news-reel—they can flatten a whole town!” said Charlie. He gave a wailing screech and crashed his hand on his desk.

If the Nazis could do so much to large places like Coventry and London, what would they do to Ringden? Norah's chest felt heavy. She looked across at Dulcie and saw that she was pale and silent.

Charlie kept on describing the bombs with gusto, getting more and more lurid. Suddenly Norah couldn't stand it any more.

“Stop!” she cried, turning around to face him. “You don't even know what it's like! What about the
people
? My grandfather's house was smashed by a bomb. He was just lucky he wasn't in it.” She shuddered, remembering her dream.

“Norah is right, Charlie,” said Miss Liers. “You are so far away from the war, you find it exciting. But war isn't a game—it's a grim, terrible thing.” For once, her voice wasn't sarcastic. She looked at Norah with respect for the first time since she'd read aloud the poem that first week of school. “Would you like to tell us more about what it was like? Come and stand at the front and see how much you can remember.”

Norah didn't want to be on display in front of the whole class, but she had to do as she was told. She drew courage from glancing at Princess Margaret Rose in the
picture at the front of the room, then began slowly with last May and Dunkirk. She told them how thousands of British troops had been rescued from France by small civilian boats, and how she and Molly had stood by the railway tracks for days, waving to the trains of exhausted soldiers coming from the coast.

Her voice grew more confident as she described how the village had prepared for an invasion; she began to enjoy herself and chose her words with relish. As her story became more exciting she spoke louder and faster. The class was as transfixed as when the librarian had told “Alenoushka.” Norah related all the details about the dogfights, the parachutes, the Boot and all the other things that had dropped out of the sky. When she reached the part about the crashed plane her words rushed out with a power that seemed to belong to someone else.

Then Charlie thrust up his hand, startling Norah from the spell she was casting. The others scowled at him for interrupting. “Miss Liers, that couldn't be true, could it?”

Miss Liers frowned at him. “Of course it's true, Charlie. Do you think Norah would lie to us? I thought you knew all about the war. Maybe you should start reading the papers, as well as going to the movies. Let Norah finish, please.”

Abashed, Charlie kept quiet. Norah talked all the way through the first period, when they were supposed to be having arithmetic. Even Dulcie looked awed, as if the things Norah was describing hadn't happened to her as
well. After Norah reached the part about arriving in Toronto she stopped, as drained as if she had experienced the whole journey again.