Looking at the Moon by Kit Pearson Read Free Book Online Page A

village. He and all the other children run up to them asking “Any gum, chum?” Usually they get some! The village is divided in its feelings about the Americans. Some people, including Grandad, think they’re too boastful, but Dad and I find them pleasant and friendly. And after all, look what they’re doing for us!
    Our pig club has a new pig! So I’m saving scraps for it and Grandad takes them to the pig every evening. He stays and talks to it as if it’s a person! It’s getting nice and plump and I’m sure it will be as delicious as the last one.
    I wrote to Mrs. Ogilvie to thank her for her last parcel, but I’d like to thank both of you as well. I’m sure you helped to pick out the things. You’ve no idea how grateful we are. The soap was especially appreciated—it’s so hard to find. What kind people they are.
    Norah, I also wrote to Mrs. Ogilvie and asked her to tell you about a very important matter. I hope she does so soon. It’s too personal for a letter.
    By the time you get this you will be back from your trip across Canada and enjoying Gairloch again. What lucky children you are! Dad says he hopes you each kept a journal. We are looking forward to hearing about it and so is everyone else in the village. Even after three years, someone asks about you every day.
    I must stop this now and dig up some potatoes for dinner. Muriel has introduced me to slacks! They’re so comfortable around the house and do save on stockings.
    We all send our very best wishes and hope as usual that it won’t be too long before you come back to us.
    Love from us all,
    Mum
    Norah thumped the letter so hard against the ground that she grazed her fist.
    Their school marks were such old news; why did the mail have to take so long each way? What did Mum ask Aunt Florence to tell her? Surely not the crazy story she had told her. Why hadn’t she thought of keeping a journal?
    Why did Muriel have to change ? Norah had completely forgotten that her oldest sister was getting married.
    Poor Mum, scrimping so much just to make a cake. Norah could always sense the weariness behind her cheerful words.
    What if something had happened to them that they weren’t telling her about? Why should she and Gavin be safe in Canada when her family was always in danger?
    If only she could be there, playing cricket with Dad and helping Mum with the chickens. If only she could tell them how much she loved them, but somehow she never could say that in her own letters.
    Gradually Norah got control of her racing emotions. After all, she should be used to these letters by now.
    She would read the letter to Gavin and answer it tonight; she always liked to get that done before AuntFlorence reminded her, so that she could say smugly, “I’ve already written it.” But it was going to be especially hard to be cheerful in this one. She couldn’t say, “Dear Mum, Dad and Grandad … At first it was wonderful to get back to Gairloch but a boy has come who has spoiled everything.”
    Late that afternoon Andrew came up the verandah steps as Norah and Gavin were sitting on them and talking about the letter. “Is your family well?” he asked.
    â€œUh huh,” said Gavin. “My big sister got married!”
    â€œYou must miss them very much,” said Andrew quietly.
    Mr. Hancock came out to the verandah and sounded the dinner gong. “Come on, Gavin,” Norah said, taking his hand. “Let’s go in.”
    But Gavin called back, “Hey, Andrew—any gum, chum?”

5
    On the Lake
    N orah sat reading her Agatha Christie mystery on the verandah, curled up in an ancient chair with a canopy over it—the family called it a “glider.” Besides her rock, the glider was her next favourite retreat at Gairloch. The verandah was like another room, a neutral zone between the cottage and outdoors. Swinging gently on the creaking chains, she could