The Lights Go On Again (18 page)

“And Bosley,” whispered Gavin, as the dog nudged his knee. “You'll be glad to get to Gairloch, too, won't you boy?” Bosley had been lying sadly by the trunk all week.

“Where
is
Norah?” asked Gavin. “I haven't seen her all morning.”

“She went downtown with Mother to buy a new dress for the party.”

At least getting ready for the party gave them all something to do. Hanny and Aunt Mary spent hours in the kitchen. Gavin helped Norah move back the furniture and roll up the rugs.

“I hope Paige remembers all her records,” she said. How could she think about records at a time like this?

Aunt Florence continued to be distant with Gavin, but she put on such a good act of being affectionate that no one but Gavin knew how much she'd changed. Norah and Grandad, on the other hand, could scarcely let Gavin out of their sight. Grandad took him to Centre Island for the day and Norah even dragged him over to Paige's with her. Now they talked about what they'd do when Gavin visited England next summer.

“We'll go to Camber, of course,” said Grandad. “Wait until you see the beach—miles and miles of sand! When you were a little tyke you used to bury me in it.”

A dim memory of holding a tin pail and shovel tugged at Gavin's mind—then let go.

“Andrew is coming to visit me for sure!” Norah told them. “I sent him Muriel's address. He says he has a surprise—for all of us! You'll probably see him at Christmas, Gavin.”

Grandad went upstairs for more tobacco. “Norah, what will happen with you and Andrew?” blurted out Gavin.

“What do you mean?”

“Will you—will you
marry
him?” He shivered. If Norah had to live so far away, he wanted her to stay exactly the same.

Norah grinned in the carefree way she used to before their parents' death. “Marry him! I'm only fifteen!”

“But I thought …”

She blushed. “I know I told you I loved Andrew. But I was different … then. Now I don't expect anything from him. I still like him a lot. But he's probably changed—just like I have. I'm just going to wait and see how I feel when I see him.”

Grandad came back and began telling them how he planned to add a new room to the house. “For you, old man,” he smiled. “It will always be there for your visits.”

“When you come next summer I'll show you where I saw a crashed German plane,” said Norah.

How could they chatter on so cheerfully, when they were going to leave so soon? Then Gavin heard the pain in their voices. They were only pretending to be cheerful; pretending for him.

T
HE FAMILY SAT
in the living room, waiting for the guests to arrive. The house was spotless and the dining-room table was heaped with food and drink. It was a hot night and Gavin's short wool trousers itched. Norah looked much older than fifteen in her new yellow-and-white polka dot dress and bright lipstick. Even Grandad was dressed up, in a clean shirt and a blue tie. He fanned his sweating face with the evening paper. With an exasperated look at Aunt Florence, he fingered his empty pipe.

“I can't believe you'll only be with us for five more days, Norah!” said Aunt Mary, fumbling for her handkerchief.

Aunt Florence frowned at her. “Now, Mary, none of that. Here's someone arriving,” she added with relief.

Paige and her sisters and parents filled the hall. “Do you want me to show you how to do a Chinese burn?” Daphne whispered to Gavin. “I take your arm and …”

“No!” he said, backing away from her. If only she were Eleanor. Aunt Mary had asked him if he wanted to invite his friends, but he'd shaken his head. After all, the party wasn't for him.

More and more people filled the house. It was just like after the memorial service—but now everyone was laughing instead of acting solemn. Gavin scowled. Why were they all so cheerful? Norah and Grandad were
leaving
—that wasn't a reason to celebrate!

The adults—friends of the Ogilvies and a few of Norah's teachers—sat on the furniture around the edge of the living room. Teen-agers danced on the cleared space in the middle. When there was a slow dance some of the adults got up and joined it.

Gavin tried the jitterbug with Norah and the foxtrot with Aunt Mary. Daphne and Lucy kept asking him to dance. He refused, but he couldn't shake off Daphne. She followed him everywhere and never stopped talking. Finally he sat nursing a Coke while Daphne stood in front of him, describing in gloating detail how she'd almost been expelled from her school after she filled her teacher's desk drawer with worms.

“I don't know how Paige is going to
exist
without Norah,” Mrs. Worsley was telling Aunt Mary behind them. “She's wept buckets of tears all week.”

“We're hoping Norah can visit Toronto in two years,” said Aunt Mary. “We'll go over there first next year, and then she can come here. If we carry on taking turns, at least we'll see her once a year. And that will keep her in touch with Gavin.” She lowered her voice. “Sometimes I feel it's wrong, separating them. I know it's what Gavin wants, but I still wonder … I don't know how he's going to bear saying goodbye to his sister.”

Gavin ducked his head as the women looked at him. He watched Norah teach Grandad how to jitterbug. The two of them were laughing so hard they could hardly stand up.

How could they laugh?

Gavin glanced back at Daphne; now she was talking to her mother. Very carefully he slipped out of the living room. He tiptoed across the hall, then ran up the carpeted stairs to his bedroom.

Bosley stuck his head out from under the bed. “Poor Boz,” said Gavin. “You don't like the party either, do you? I don't blame you. It's a
stupid, boring
party …” He sat on the floor in the dark, leaning against the bed. Bosley emerged all the way and rested his heavy head on Gavin's leg. The party noises floated up from below: talking and laughter and the jaunty melody of “Mairzy Doats.”

Tears slipped down Gavin's cheeks. Bosley struggled to his feet and licked them away.

Gavin clutched him. He was all alone … except for Bosley. Norah and Grandad were leaving him. But that was his fault. He had chosen to stay in Canada to be safe.

But he didn't
feel
safe any more. The big old house, which had always been such a secure fortress, seemed empty and cold, as if Norah had already left. And Aunt Florence, who had been an even safer haven, had changed. That was his fault, too. He had driven her away with his anger.

Now he heard “Three cheers for Norah, Dulcie and Lucy!” Then the voices began singing “We'll Meet Again.”

“Oh, Boz …” Gavin squeezed the dog again, but so tightly that Bosley whined in protest and went back under the bed. Gavin crawled in after him. Maybe he'd feel better where it was dark and confined.

He hadn't been under his bed for years. It reminded him of hiding under Eleanor's parents' bed. That time he'd been happy, squashed in with his friends.

Now he just felt silly. His bed wasn't as high as Mr. and Mrs. Austen's; he could barely raise his head. Bosley watched curiously while Gavin slithered around on the bare floor, trying to get comfortable. Finally he managed to turn over on his back. He stared at the mattress bulging between the springs. His tears dribbled into his ears.

Then he stopped crying. On the far side of the bed, against the wall, a lumpy shape was squished between the spring and the mattress. Gavin slid himself over, reached out his arm, and forced his hand between the wires. He closed it around a small wool form, something he knew very well. As gently as he could he tugged it out—Creature!

He scraped his head in his haste to get out. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, brushing off the dustballs from his worn, stuffed toy elephant.

“Creature …” whispered Gavin. The elephant must have been stuck between the mattress and the wall, and worked itself under the mattress when the bed was changed. He stroked Creature's grimy trunk. He looked just the same: both his ears were missing and his tail had worn to a frayed string.

Gavin curled up on the bed, rubbing Creature against his cheek the way he used to when he was little. Creature smelled the same too—a mixture of musty wool flannel and sawdust.

A sharp image came to him, like a movie in his mind. He was sitting in a little room holding his elephant up to his face and sniffing him, the way he was now. Sitting in a high, hard chair, swinging legs that didn't reach the ground, while two grown-ups told him solemnly that he was going with Norah on a ship to Canada.

Mum and Dad. He could
see
them. Mum's tired face struggling with tears and Dad's trying to be cheerful.

“… and remember old man,” Dad's voice was saying, “whatever happens, I want you and Norah to stick together like glue! Promise?”

“I promise,” whispered five-year-old Gavin.

Gavin bounced into a sitting position and tried to remember more. But that was all. The rest was a confused blur of going on a train and a ship and another train, the way it had always been.

But he remembered them! He focused on the scene again—his parents breaking the news to him as they all sat in the front room. There was a faint odour of ammonia in the air, mixing with Creature's smell. Mum wore a faded blue blouse.
Muv
… that's what he called her then. Her hands were red and chapped from always washing dishes. Her hair fell into her eyes. Dad had a long nose like Norah's and a warm, reassuring voice. He called him “old man” like Grandad did. Muv called him “pet” like Aunt Florence.

Gavin pressed Creature to his cheek as he held on to the memory-picture. Then his parents' images dissolved. He remembered them—but they were gone. They were dead. He would never see them again.

“Muv …”
Gavin turned over and sobbed into his pillow, still clutching Creature. “Dad …”

He cried for a long time, until his insides were light and empty. Then he dried his face on his pillowcase and stumbled to the window. Some of the guests were leaving.

“Goodbye, Norah! Have a safe journey!”

Gavin leaned out the window and the night air cooled his hot cheeks.

“I want you and Norah to stick together …”

Finally he knew what to do.

18

We'll Meet Again

G
avin had stumbled out of his clothes and fallen into bed and a deep, thick sleep. He woke up all at once, full of energy. It was only six o'clock.

He stuck his head into the hall. Everyone's door was closed and the usual snoring came from Grandad's room. They went to bed last night and forgot about me! he thought indignantly. But maybe he'd already been asleep when they'd come upstairs.

Gavin put on his dressing-gown, put Creature in his pocket, told Bosley to stay, and padded up to Norah's tower. Her new dress was flung over a chair and she was buried under her blankets. It was a shame to wake her, but he couldn't wait.

“Norah!” He touched her shoulder.

She groaned and shook his hand away, burrowing farther in.

“Norah, wake up!”

Norah opened her eyes halfway and gazed blearily at him. “What do you want? What time is it?”

“Six o'clock.”

“Six! Go
away
…”

“Norah …”
Gavin giggled as she put her hands over her ears. “Listen, I have to tell you something! It's really important!”

Finally she struggled awake, leaning against the headboard and yawning. “What could be so important at six in the morning?”

Gavin grinned and climbed onto her bed. “Oh, nothing. Just that I'm coming back to England with you …”

“What?”
She leaned forward and clutched his arm. “Really?”

“Really and truly,” he laughed. “I've decided to go back with you and Grandad.”

Norah looked stunned. “But you were so sure you wanted to stay here! What made you change your mind?”

Gavin shrugged. “I just did. I can't—I just can't let you go without me. We have to stick together! Like glue! Dad told me that before we left. I promised I would, but I forgot for a while.”

“But are you sure you can give up Aunt Florence and Aunt Mary? And your friends, and this house …” Norah looked afraid to believe him.

“I'm sure,” he said. “I'm very, very sure. I want to stay with
you
. It's where I belong. And we have to take care of each other, like Muv and Dad asked us to.”

“Muv … that's what you used to call her,” said Norah softly. “Oh, Gavin …” She hugged him. “Look at me, I'm crying! I was wishing so much you'd change your mind but I'd given up hope! I'm so
happy
!” she said in wonder. “I never thought I'd feel really happy again.” She wiped her eyes. “Wait until Grandad hears!”

“Let's tell him!”

The two of them crept hand in hand down the stairs to Grandad's room. “Listen to him snore!” chuckled Gavin.

Grandad woke up quickly. He leaned against his pillows while Gavin told him. Then his old face broke into a wide grin.

“You're coming with us?” he cried. “My dear boy … what wonderful news!” There were tears in his eyes. “You've made a very brave decision, old man.”

Old man
… Gavin heard Dad's voice again and smiled at his grandfather.

“I think it's the right decision,” said Grandad slowly. His face became serious. “But since I've been here I've seen how much you love the Ogilvies—especially Mrs. Ogilvie. It's going to be hard for you to leave them.”

Not as hard as leaving
you,
thought Gavin, looking at Grandad and then at Norah.

“England's in a sorry state right now,” continued Grandad. “The food is scarce and terrible. You can't buy new clothes or toys. We'll be squashed at Muriel's, then we'll be living in a half-finished house that would fit into the living room of this house. And we don't have much money. You'll have to try for a scholarship to grammar school.”