The House by the Fjord (29 page)

After that I did look a little longer in the mirror and reassessed myself. I have done the same again today out of curiosity. My complexion is still free of blemishes and my lips are full and have a good rosy colour. My eyes have some crinkles at the corners, but they are as greenish-blue as they have ever been, and my lashes are still long and dark. Unfortunately, there is no mistaking the strands of grey in my golden hair, which these days I still wear drawn back from my forehead and coiled at the nape of my neck
.

Magnus always loved the moment when I released the pins from my tresses and shook them free to cascade about my bare shoulders, as I stood eager and waiting, my arms held out to him. How often we made love with laughter, he tossing me on to the bed, throwing up my nightgown and taking me with him up to the heights of passion. At other times he treated me as gently as if I might crumble away under his touch, while I lay naked and trembling with delight, scarcely able to bear such exquisite torment. But I must not think any more of those wonderful nights of loving, because then my whole self will start crying out for his arms to hold me again and I have other things to write about just now
.

It amused me to play Henrik Heggedal along. I have not forgotten how to intrigue a man, and although I am no longer in my prime, my figure is still shapely, and I would have enjoyed being kissed again as much as when I was young, except that it would not have been like kissing Magnus. On his third or fourth visit, he began to talk of his being a lonely bachelor and that it was time he found a good wife – as if I would be tempted! He did not wear a wedding ring, but it was my guess that he slipped it in his pocket before coming to the house
.

I did seriously consider letting him make love to me, for my desires have only been lying dormant, but I thought better of it. If he had come up into the bedroom, he would have probably have been so distracted by the number of Magnus's paintings on the walls that he would have given a poor performance. I joked with myself that he might forget all about bedding me and instead snatch a painting off the wall and scatter shoals of golden kroner in his wake while making a speedy exit. So I began to keep the door shut and locked whenever I saw him coming. I happened to be up the mountains when he hammered on the door for the last time. I watched his frustration through my binoculars when, getting no answer again to his hammering, he threw down yet another bouquet in a temper and stalked away. I have not seen him since
.

I told Magnus about it, because I talk to him all the time. I feel his presence here and I know he is waiting for me. When the children were still at home, their cheerful noise kept him silent, because he knew that although I missed him every minute of the day and night, I was not lonely. Before I get old and forgetful, I must decide where I am going to hide my journal, because I want it to stay here forever, and then I will always be part of this house that has given me both deep sorrow and great joy, which I realize is probably the pattern of most people's lives. If any descendants of mine should discover my journal's secret hiding place, I would have no objection to their reading it or their handing it over to those whom they truly love, allowing them to read it too. All I ask of them is that afterwards they return my journal to where they found it or else into an even better hiding place . . 
.

Anna closed the journal and looked across at Alex. ‘I've come to a reference Ingrid makes about a possible hiding place for her journal. It's quite a heart-touching entry as you will read for yourself. It has reminded me that earlier in her journal she wrote about an old wedding chest she had found in a hidden place and where treasures could be safely stored. Can you think where such a spot could be? Some of Magnus's paintings might still be in it.'

Alex lowered the book he was reading and frowned thoughtfully. ‘Nothing comes to mind. After all, we have been all over the house in one way or another with various small repairs and there is nothing left in the cellar. I can't think of anywhere a large chest could be hidden, not even in the
stabbur
.'

‘I'll ask Steffan if it was ever found.'

They called in on Steffan before returning home. He shook his head. ‘I have wondered about that myself many times. I can only conclude it was found in a section of the cellar and that it was thrown out at some time. Yet it is strange that Ingrid never mentioned it when she recorded so much. I asked Harry about it long ago, hoping he would be able to think of some solution to the mystery. He searched the house for me without result.'

‘When did he do this investigating?' she asked.

‘It was during the Nazi occupation. I believe I told you that German soldiers had broken into the house when searching for a resistance fighter, whom Harry had helped to escape.'

‘Maybe as time goes by I'll find something to give me a clue to the whereabouts of the chest, if it is still there in a hidden place,' Anna said hopefully. ‘I like to think that Ingrid hid away some of Magnus's paintings in it when she was being bothered by art dealers wanting to buy them.'

‘Then it would prove to be a treasure chest indeed!'

The next time Anna was at the house with Alex, they searched every inch of the cellar, even feeling the walls in case there should be any evidence of a space being bricked up, but they found nothing. None of the furniture originally seen under sheets in the cellar was there anymore, for all of it had been carried up into the daylight and examined. The only truly good find had been a little school desk that had once been painted green. It now stood against the wall in the living room as part of the decor; two old school books dated 1889 had come to light at the same time and were neatly arranged on it.

When the whole house was fully furnished, with antique pieces from Steffan's
stabbur
filling in the gaps, Anna felt that Ingrid would have approved of everything. The final touch was the framing of several good prints of Magnus's paintings, which blazed forth their beautiful colours from the white pine walls just below the canopy of rosemaling.

Those same rich hues covered the valley as autumn came, even the cranberry leaves turning crimson to compliment the rich colours of the trees. Anna and Alex walked in the mountains and took shelter under a rock whenever the rains came. They were both always well clad against the weather, and Anna joked that she thought there was no other rain in the world that managed to fall in such heavy sheets as from Norwegian skies. Then, towards Christmas, the snow began to float down again.

It was easy to tell from Ingrid's journal that she had always loved Christmas. There were various accounts of decorating the house with greenery, and the fun the children had had going into the forest with Magnus to find the perfect tree and then bringing it home on a sled.

Anna would have liked to spend Christmas in the old house, certain that she would have caught the echo of children's long-ago laughter and maybe had a fanciful image of Ingrid reading the Bible story to her family as she had done every Christmas Eve. But Anna said nothing of this private wish, not even to Alex, because it was the time of the year to be spent with Steffan and Gudrun, who were her family now.

Early in the New Year, the time came for Anna to make a trip back to Gardermoen to fulfil a promise made to Molly on her first day in Norway. In conversation, Molly had said she would always want Anna to be with her whenever she should give birth as she would have no family near at hand. Now that time had come and Anna, who was in the fifth month of her own pregnancy, planned to spend just two weeks with Molly after her baby was born. Alex drove Anna to Andalsnes railway station. It was the first time they had been apart since their marriage and he was anxious about her.

‘Come back as soon as you can,' he urged as she stepped into the train.

‘I will,' she promised.

She took a seat by the window and their gaze held as the train began to move. Then she waved until he was lost from sight.

He had bought her a newspaper from a news-stand to supplement her reading matter, for she had brought a book with her. Unfolding
Afterposten
she began to read. Half an hour later, a white-jacketed waiter came to take her order for lunch in the restaurant car. Then, as he moved on to other passengers, she put away the newspaper and looked out at the passing scene. There was said to be more snow than ever this winter. Roofs of buildings everywhere had had to be cleared of snow two and even three times. Alex had cleared the roof of the old house twice. Recently there had been an unusual number of avalanches. In the valleys, people always built in safe areas, the knowledge garnered over centuries as to where rocks would fall or snow cascade in great force. The scenery today was spectacular.

Although Norwegians always seemed to go well-provisioned on any journey, she noticed that every time the train stopped at a station it seemed as if the train was emptied of passengers as they all streamed off into the buffet restaurant. They would emerge with mugs of hot soup or coffee and often sandwiches too. It was the same on the ferries, for as soon as people came aboard they would line up at the snacks bar for nourishment. Anna smiled. She was the same now. She and Alex always had coffee and waffles whenever they crossed the fjord. It must mean that she was becoming as much Norwegian as she was English. At least she would not get overweight. Sport in both summer and winter kept her new fellow countrymen on the whole a slim and healthy race. Naturally there were exceptions, but she did not intend to be among their number.

She was looking forward to seeing Molly and her other war-bride friends who were still at Gardermoen. She received news of them quite regularly from Molly, either by phone or letter. Somebody had heard that Sally and Arvid were divorced, which was no surprise to anyone. As the waiter appeared, banging a small dinner gong to announce the first sitting for
middag
in the restaurant car, Anna was pleasantly hungry and looking forward to what she had chosen from the menu.

She had just settled herself at a table, the napkin spread across her lap, when the avalanche struck. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it coming in the last seconds before it crashed against the train, shutting out all daylight. There was no time even to scream. She was tossed from her seat as the carriage was thrown on to its side and she knew nothing more as the avalanche thundered on.

Out of the darkness she heard Ingrid speaking to her and coaxing her to answer. How had it happened that they were together? They must be in the house and somehow there was no longer any time span between them.

‘Are you wearing your orange skirt, Ingrid?' she whispered.

There was a slight pause. ‘Open your eyes, Anna. Then you will see for yourself.'

She tried, but it was difficult. Her lids seemed to be swollen. ‘We can't find the old wedding chest that is hidden somewhere.'

‘Keep looking, Anna. You'll find it one day when you're well again.'

‘Am I ill?'

‘You've had a few knocks and bruises, but you're on the mend.'

‘You must be confused, Ingrid. It was your first husband that gave you knocks and bruises. Alex has only given me love.'

Then she heard Alex's voice. ‘As I always will,
elskede
.'

Beloved. She liked that word both in English and in Norwegian. It meant so much. Somehow she managed to lift her eyelids enough to see a nurse looking down at her and Alex seated by her bed. He was clasping her limp right hand in both his own. Then memory returned in a painful spasm and she cried out.

‘My baby?'

Alex drew her hand up to his lips and kissed it. ‘We lost our little one,' he said quietly.

She gave a hoarse strangled cry. ‘No! No!'

The nurse answered her. ‘It was too late for anything to be done by the time you arrived here. It was over an hour before they found you in the wreckage.'

Then the nurse left them on their own, with a nod to Alex that she would be within call.

Tears had begun rolling down Anna's cheeks. ‘Our baby,' she said brokenly. ‘I loved her from the first moment I knew she was coming.'

He slid his arms about her. ‘I'm sure she knew that,' he said. It was his first acknowledgement that the baby could have been a girl instead of a boy, and in the midst of her overwhelming sorrow she loved him anew for it. Then her eyelids became so heavy again that she could not keep them open any longer and she slept.

Later, she was able to ask him questions about the train disaster. She knew now that she had suffered a broken leg, but was assured that it had been well set and she should make a full recovery.

‘Were there many casualties?' she asked.

‘No, I'm thankful to say. Fortunately, it was a minor avalanche that hit only part of the train, but its impact threw two carriages off the rails while the rest went helter-skelter, although they remained remarkably upright. Yet passengers were hurled about like die in a box, including you, Anna.'

‘Where are we?'

‘In a hospital at Eidsvold. It was the nearest for the casualties.'

She managed a wry little smile. ‘Eidsvold? That's where I had to wait four hours for a train that Christmas, when I know you had to wait all night to meet me. I'm not very fortunate at Eidsvold.'

He gathered her hand close to him. ‘But you are! You caught the train that night in spite of the delay, and here you are alive and well when I could have so easily lost you. There is nothing wrong with Eidsvold.'

She smiled acknowledgement. ‘I suppose you are right.'

After three days Anna was able to leave the hospital with crutches to help her master walking again. She sat in the back of Alex's car with her injured leg resting on the seat. She was comforted to a degree by a doctor's reassurance that there was nothing to prevent her becoming pregnant again after a while. Molly's husband, Olav, who would have met her off the train at Jessheim, phoned several times at Molly's instigation to check on Anna's recovery. In the meantime Molly had given birth to a healthy baby girl. Anna was very glad for her. As for herself, it had been a girl that she had miscarried.