The House by the Fjord (30 page)

Eighteen

Anna suffered deeply from depression after her miscarriage. Somehow she could not break free of it. Whenever she was shopping, or had some other reason for being in town, she always went past the toddlers' play area. Even though it was like salt in a wound, she would pause to watch them for a minute or two. Whatever the weather, they would come outside suitably dressed to stamp in puddles, roll in the snow or attempt to make castles in the sandpit, all according to the season. Sometimes she would turn away to blink tears from her eyes. She had even lost interest for the time being in the old house and also in Ingrid's journal, which had lain untouched in a drawer for quite a while.

Alex was very concerned about her, even though the doctor had said that it was not unusual for women to suffer from postnatal depression after a miscarriage. He wanted her to recapture the lively interest in life that was normal to her. He had tried to lift her spirits by taking her on holiday to Sweden and Denmark, but although she seemed to enjoy the trip, there was little change in her. He was at a loss to know how to divert her in some way from the sorrow that continued to engulf her.

‘Why not reconsider that offer to teach that you told me about once,' he suggested one evening. ‘It was when you first came to Molde, wasn't it? You could do some part-time teaching. Even just an hour or two a day could be interesting for you.'

‘I have thought about that,' she said, being desperate herself to try to find some way out of the dark mood that encompassed her. ‘But whether I should still be wanted I don't know.'

‘Give the headmaster a phone call at home. Just say you would like to visit his school tomorrow morning.'

She glanced at the clock. ‘It's late. Nine o'clock.'

‘He'll not be in bed yet.' He had seen the way she had lifted her chin as she considered the prospect of teaching, almost as if seeing it as a challenge, which he took to be a good sign.

She fetched the telephone book and found Daniel Andersen's name. The call was soon over. Anna turned with something close to excitement in her eyes.

‘I'm going to see him tomorrow morning at ten o'clock!'

‘Good! Let's have a drink to celebrate.'

‘I haven't been accepted yet!'

‘You will be.' He had moved from his chair to the drinks cupboard. ‘What are you going to have?'

They both had a cognac.

The school was not in Molde, but was linked to a village some little distance away, but she had the car, for Alex always walked the short distance to work. As she drove, she timed the length of the journey, which turned out to be a little under half an hour. When she arrived, a senior pupil showed her to the headmaster's study. As she entered, Daniel Andersen, tall and thin with horn-rimmed spectacles, rose from behind his desk to shake her hand and invite her to a chair. She could tell she would be accepted almost before they had exchanged a word.

‘It is some time since we last met,' he said, ‘and I still cannot emphasize too much what it would mean for us to have a qualified English teacher on our staff.' He was seated again with his hands clasped before him on his desk. ‘The English language has long been universal, but I believe that it will soon become of utmost importance for all those of other nationalities to be able to speak the language as well as their own. That is what I want for my pupils here. During the occupation we were only allowed to teach German, but those days have gone.'

He went on to explain that she would have her own class of first-year pupils, seven being the age of entry into schools. All his pupils were having English lessons already, since he believed the younger the child, the easier it was to learn a foreign language, and Anna agreed with him. She would also be taking English language classes with all the older children.

‘But whom should I be replacing?' she asked with concern, not wanting to be the cause of any disruption and ill feeling.

Daniel Andersen put her mind at rest. ‘A teacher who will be glad to surrender the task as his subject is mathematics.'

After they had discussed her salary and the part-time hours of her teaching, he took her to meet the youngest class of her future pupils, both boys and girls. They had been rehearsed, for although standing for the teacher's entry was customary, this morning they spoke in unison and in English.

‘Good morning, Mrs Ringstad. Welcome to our school.'

She replied, smiling at them. All the little girls had bows in their hair. After a few words with the teacher, Anna and Daniel Andersen left again. Then he showed her over the rest of the school and introduced her to the other teachers on the way. He shook her hand again when they parted. She was to start teaching the following Monday.

On her first day she began to get to know the children in her class. They were the same as the pupils in England that she had met in her teacher training classes when days were spent in schools. There were the talkers and the daydreamers, the workers and the lazy, the ones who wanted to please her and others out to play tricks. Yet on the whole they were remarkably well-behaved, coming from a country community that had always had its standards with regard to honesty, politeness and working hard.

As the weeks went by, Anna began to enjoy her new routine and, although she still mourned the child she had lost, she began to look ahead with hope and to enjoy again the good times that life was giving her. She opened Ingrid's journal again.

Ingrid had had much the same attitude as Anna in her later years, appreciating all blessings that came her way. Yet there were still troubles too.

Anders comes home periodically on leave. He has become quite the gentleman, for the guards are taught to behave in a correct manner at all times
.

I sit down very grandly at the end of the table where I have always sat, which pleases him, and then, as he takes his place next to me, I smile my approval of his good manners and he gives me a cheeky grin
.

I was thankful he was still at home when I received an official letter informing me that Nils had been injured in an explosion on board ship and was presently in a hospital in Oslo. A letter arrived from Nils at the same time, telling me that his injury was slight and not to visit as he would be home very soon. Yet it was six weeks before Nils was ready to leave hospital, and Anders was given special leave to escort his brother home. I watched constantly for their arrival. They came ten days later in a hired pony and trap from the fjord steamer. I gave a sharp cry of anguish, clapping my hand to my mouth, for the driver had taken charge of a pair of crutches and Anders was lifting his brother out of the vehicle. Nils adjusted his crutches and then looked up to give me a reassuring grin. Half his left leg was missing, his trouser leg pinned up neatly
.

As soon as word spread of his arrival, old friends came to visit and I was forever serving coffee and cakes. Emma and her husband were his first visitors, and she hugged her brother while behaving as if this homecoming was no different from any other. Liv and Martin came the next day after receiving a message from me telling that them that he was at home and the reason why. Most sensibly, Martin came with an offer of employment for him. It was soon arranged that Nils should join the shipping company since there was plenty of work that he could handle and he would have his own office. Liv gave me a sideways glance with the hint of a smile to show that it was at her instigation this arrangement had been made so quickly. Nils was enthusiastic. The prospect of being unemployed had haunted him throughout his convalescence, but now to be able to deal with vessels at sea was some compensation for not being aboard one of them
.

It was Midsummer Eve when Anna and Alex, who had been earlier to the lighting of a Molde bonfire, were awakened when their telephone rang in the early hours of the morning. Alex was swift to answer it; concern for Steffan, who had not been well recently, was instantly uppermost in his mind, as it was with Anna sitting up in alarm. But the caller was not Gudrun with worrying news as they both had feared. Instead, it was Rune, Ingrid's great-grandson, who had taken over his late father's farm in the valley. He gave his reason for calling in the calm unhurried way of country folk.

‘Your
stabbur
has been on fire, Alex, but don't worry. The fire brigade is here and they soon had it under control. There's not much damage, because some of us at a late bonfire party spotted the flames and ran to start dousing them with water from the river. It is the outside staircase that has suffered most. You'll have to replace that and a small part of the roof has gone.'

‘I'll get there as soon I can,' Alex said urgently.

‘Well, you can't get here before the first ferry unless you tip somebody out of bed to bring you in a motorboat. You go back to bed. I'm in charge and everything is under control here. I'll be around when you come.'

Anna was already in her dressing gown, wide awake and declaring she could not sleep peacefully again until she had seen the
stabbur
for herself. ‘Thank goodness the flames were not mistaken from a distance as just another bonfire!'

‘That could easily have happened,' Alex agreed, getting back into bed, and he was asleep again almost instantly. She marvelled at the way men always seemed to be able to sleep whatever the circumstances. She lay awake until at last it was time to get up and have an early breakfast.

They caught the first ferry of the day. Anna was full of anxiety as to what she would see when they arrived at the house. When the
stabbur
came into view, it was a sorry sight. The whole west end of it was blackened and scorched, the staircase reduced to charred pieces of wood, some dangling over the ashes below. A section of the roof had also fallen in.

All that day people came either to view the result of the fire or to offer helpful advice. Harry also arrived. ‘I'll deal with the fire damage for you,' he said, his attitude one of being completely in charge. ‘A replacement staircase must be in the same weathered antique wood as the original. I know where to get that and everything else I would need. The roof will need returfing too.'

‘I want it to be exactly as it was before,' Anna said anxiously. She did not like the thought of him restoring her property, but there was no way she could refuse him.

‘It will be. I can get my men working on it by tomorrow.' Then he gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It is as important to me as it is to you that our country's heritage should always be preserved.'

She thought to herself that he had not spoken in that way previously, when he had tried to divert her interest away from the house for his own ends. Alex had already shown that he would approve of Harry carrying out the work, but he turned to her for a final decision.

‘Is it agreed then, Anna? We do have a restoration expert here.'

She nodded. ‘Yes, of course. I'm sure it could not be in better hands than yours, Harry,' she said genuinely. ‘Perhaps you would restore the old barn at the same time?'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you sure? It does not add anything to the other two buildings here and was a much later addition to the property.'

‘Maybe, but there is a good reason. Alex and I would like the old stall widened to garage our car whenever we are here.' She did not add that she thought Ingrid would have approved that alteration.

Harry nodded. ‘Yes, that's a good idea. I'll see to it for you. In the meantime, keep well away from the
stabbur
. We don't want any accidents.'

He was so emphatic that she could see he seemed genuinely concerned for their safety. ‘We'll keep our distance,' she promised.

Before she and Alex left, she took a long look at the scorched and damaged
stabbur
, thankful that good neighbours had been in time to save it from total destruction. But how had the fire started? After all, it was too far from any other bonfire for a drifting spark to have ignited it. Some rockets had been fired that night and she could only conclude that one had landed on the
stabbur
's staircase. On the dry old wood it would have acted like a match to tinder.

Alex was away on the evening when she felt compelled to go and take a look at the damage to the s
tabbur
once again. She left a note as to her whereabouts in case he happened to return much earlier than expected. Then she slipped on her coat, took her purse, and by walking briskly she was in time to catch a late evening ferry as it was about to leave. She had made up her mind to spend the night at Ingrid's house. There was everything she and Alex needed there, and she did not even have to take a toothbrush with her. Alex had been insisting recently that it should now be called Anna's house, but she felt that would be ousting Ingrid's goodwill from it before the time was right.

‘When will it be right?' he had questioned, puzzled by her answer.