I asked my mother.
âFirst things first. Tell me how to spell believe .â My mother stopped mopping the floor and looked at me. All through her cleaning sheâd been quizzing me on my spelling words. Sheâd memorized the whole list so she knew the words by heart.
âBelieve,â I said slowly, taking my time, thinking through the word. âB ⦠e ⦠l ⦠e ⦠No itâs not e. Thereâs another letter first ⦠i ⦠e ⦠v ⦠e ⦠believe.â
âExcellent. Iâm very impressed with your progress today.â
I felt myself blush.
âI think you deserve a break. Itâs almost two oâclock. Would you like to go up and see Dr. Banting and have tea?â
âWill you come too?â I asked.
âIâm afraid I havenât made the same progress youâve made. I still have the whole main floor to do, and if I want to be finished in time for us to be home for supper, Iâll have to keep working.â
âBut youâve been working hard all morning. You deserve to take a break,â I argued.
âWork before rest.â
âThen I should keep working too.â
âYouâve done your work memorizing your spelling list. This is my work. Go, have tea and a biscuit. You can come back after and help if you like.â
âI donât know.â¦â
âThereâs nothing to know. The sooner you leave the sooner youâll be back. Get on with you.â
I hesitated.
âNow, before I decide you should be the one scrubbing the washroom floors.â
I didnât need that threat a second time. âIâll be back soon.â
I dashed over to the stairwell. We were on the second floor. My mother always started with the third floor, the top floor, hoping to get it done before the day reached its greatest heat. She was now almost finished the second floor. By the time I returned sheâd be working on the main level.
As I climbed the stairwell I could hear the dogs barking. I opened the door and felt a surge of heat. Itwas amazing how much hotter it was just one floor up. And just as powerful as the heat was the smell. I knew my mother had just cleaned the floor, but it still smelled bad. The stench came from behind the same door as the barking, a room at the end of the hall. I held my breath as I passed by. I turned the corner and the next door along was open. Standing at the threshold, I peeked in. Dr. Banting sat on a stool, wearing a dingy beige lab coat, the arms cut off, working on some papers strewn on the desk in front of him. He was so intently focused on his work that he didnât even see me. Maybe I would just leave and not disturb him.
âCan I help you?â
I looked over. A man was looking at me. He was younger than Dr. Banting, with light-coloured hair and a pleasant expression on his face. He looked like a nice and gentle man, and he had a wonderful smile.
âAh, good to see you, Miss Williams,â Dr. Banting said as he stood up to greet me. âHave you come to join us for tea?â
âIf I may,â I said.
âI was just about to put the kettle on,â the other man said.
âThis is my research partner.â Dr. Banting gestured to the man. âRuth Williams, Iâd like you to meet Charles Best.â
âPleased to meet you, Dr. Best,â I said and curtsied.
âActually itâs Mr. Best. Iâm not a doctor, Iâm just a research assistant.â
âA research partner, â Dr. Banting insisted.
âIâm a graduate student whoâs been assigned to help Dr. Banting with his research project.â He did look a lot younger than Dr. Banting. Younger and more gentle looking. Not that Dr. Banting wasnât friendly, but there was something about him that I knew meant businessâ he was probably the sort of person you didnât want to get mad at you.
âYouâre being too modest, Charles. The