The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (76 page)

BOOK: The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2)
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Again he quickly filled in some bars on the sheet music. Then he stopped suddenly and looked up at me. ‘Sorry, I’m getting carried away. Thanks for showing this to me,
though.’

‘Felix, how long do you think it would take you to fully orchestrate this?’

‘Two months, perhaps? Maybe it
is
because my father wrote it originally, but I can already hear exactly how it should be.’

‘How about three weeks?’

He stared at me, rolled his eyes and chuckled. ‘I assume you’re joking?’

‘No, I’m not. I’ll have to get a photocopy of the piano music done for you, but if you could orchestrate this and present it to Thom as brilliantly as you’ve just done
for me, I doubt he or the leader of the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra would be able to say no.’

Felix sat in silence for a while as he thought about it. ‘So, you’re challenging me? Is this to prove to Thom that I can do it?’

‘Apart from the fact that this is currently on the programme for the Grieg Centenary Concert in December, yes. Because from what I’ve just heard, you’re utterly brilliant. And
if you don’t mind me saying so, the time limit will mean you absolutely have to focus.’

‘That was a mixed bag of compliments and insults, young lady,’ Felix snorted. ‘I’ll choose to take the compliments, because of course, you’re right. I’m far
better working to a deadline and there’s been a distinct lack of them around here in the past few years.’

‘So you’ll have a go?’

‘If I take this on, I’ll do much better than just having a go, I can assure you. I’ll start tonight.’

‘Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to take the original piano music with me. I don’t want Thom to find out what we’re doing.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that, it’s in my head already.’ Felix gathered the music together, collated it into a neat pile and handed it to me. ‘Drop me off a copy
tomorrow, but from then on, I don’t want to have you constantly turning up here checking up on me while I’m working. So, I’ll see you three weeks from today.’

‘But—’

‘No buts,’ Felix said as he followed me to the door.

‘Okay, I’ll drop the music off tomorrow. Bye, Felix.’

‘And Ally?’

‘Yes?’

‘Thanks for giving me the chance.’

45

During the following three weeks, I did a lot of pacing around the house. I knew that to orchestrate a symphony well would normally take months of arduous work. But even if
Felix managed to complete the first five minutes, I hoped it would be enough to convince Thom of what I’d heard myself. If he’d done nothing, then nothing was lost and Thom would never
know.

Everyone deserves a second chance
, I thought to myself as I heard the front door open and Thom arrive home from playing the opera
Carmen
with the orchestra. The concert season
had begun and as he collapsed onto the sofa, grey with fatigue, I handed him a chilled beer from the fridge.

‘Thanks, Ally. I could get used to this,’ he said as he opened the beer. ‘And as a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking about things over the past few days.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Have you decided yet where you’re going to have Thumbelina?’

This was a pet name for the baby, which had originated from Thom asking me what size he or she currently was, and me – with my brand-new pregnancy book as a guide – using my thumb to
describe it.

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Well, how about staying here at Froskehuset with me? You keep saying how you’re itching to refurbish it, and I certainly don’t have time to do it. Given that nesting instinct
thing you read about in the pregnancy book the other day, how about channelling it practically and setting to work? In return for bed and board, which is mounting up given the current size of your
dual appetites,’ he teased me. ‘And, of course, official ownership of half of it?’

‘Thom, really, this is yours! I’d never dream of taking half of it from you.’

‘Well, how about if you invested some cash, if you have any, in updating this place? I’d call it a fair swap. See? I’m not being quite as generous as you thought.’

‘I could certainly ask Georg Hoffman, Pa’s lawyer. I’m sure he’d see it as a good investment. It’s not going to take much cash to update this, although I was
thinking that awful eyesore of a stove needs to be ripped out and replaced with a modern fire, and maybe some underfloor heating for the rest of the house. Oh, and then the boiler needs replacing
and all the bathrooms re-plumbing, because I’m fed up of having a dribble of warm water when I take a shower, and—’

‘There we go,’ Thom chuckled. ‘I’d reckon on at least one million kroner to do the job properly. The house is worth about four million, so I’d be paying you a
little extra as my interior designer. We’d have to agree that if one of us needed to sell it in the future, then the other one would have the right to buy their share, but Ally, I think
it’s important that you feel you and the baby have a home of your own.’

‘I’ve done all right without one up to now.’

‘You’ve never had a child up to now. And as one who grew up in a home that my mother constantly reminded me wasn’t ours, I’d like my niece or nephew not to have that
worry. Perhaps I could offer my services as a father figure and mentor until another one arrives on the scene. Which I’m sure he will one day,’ he added.

‘But Thom, if I stayed here . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘I’d have to learn Norwegian! And it’s impossible.’

‘Well, you and the baby can learn together,’ he said with a smile.

‘But what happens when one, or both of us, do find someone else?’

‘As I said, we can sell it, or buy the other one’s share. Besides, don’t forget it does have four bedrooms. And as I refuse to allow you to be with a man I don’t approve
of, there’s no reason why we couldn’t live in a commune here together. Anyway, personally I don’t think we should worry too much about what
might
happen. Isn’t that
one of your own favourite lines?’

‘It used to be, but . . . I have to plan for our future now.’

‘Of course you do. Motherhood is changing you already.’

And as I settled into bed that night, I thought how Thom was right. I wasn’t just thinking of me anymore, but what was best for my little one. There was no doubt I was happy here, secure
and peaceful in this country I was beginning to love. And the fact I had been denied my true heritage made it somehow more important that my child be allowed to embrace theirs. We would do it
together.

The next morning, I told Thom that, in principle, I thought it was a wonderful idea and that I’d love to stay and have the baby here.

‘I’ll also see if I can get Theo’s Sunseeker yacht sailed over here. Even if I can’t ever pluck up the courage to get back aboard myself, maybe you’d like to take
your nephew around the fjords of Norway for me in the summers.’

‘Great idea,’ agreed Thom. ‘Although for the baby’s sake, Ally, if not yours, you are going to have to get back on the water at some point.’

‘I know, but it’s not for now,’ I said brusquely. ‘The only thing that worries me is what I would do after I’ve played interior designer and given birth.’ I
put the pancakes he loved on the table for breakfast.

‘See? You’re doing it again, Ally, projecting into the future.’

‘Shut up, Thom. You’re looking at a woman who’s worked all her life, had a challenge every day.’

‘And you don’t think that moving to a new country and having a baby is enough of one?’

‘Of course it is, for now. But even though I’ll be a mother, I’ll have to do something else too.’

‘I could probably throw you a bone,’ Thom said casually.

‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s always a place in the orchestra for a flautist as talented as you. As a matter of fact, I was going to suggest something to you.’

‘Oh, and what was that?’

‘You already know about the Grieg Centenary Concert, the one which is meant to include
The Hero Concerto
, but probably won’t now. The first half includes the
Peer
Gynt
Suite and I was thinking how very apt it would be to have a real-life Halvorsen play the opening bars of ‘Morning Mood’. In fact, I’ve already mentioned it to David
Stewart, and he thinks it’s a wonderful idea. What do you think?’

‘You’ve already spoken to him?’

‘Ally, of course I have. It was a no-brainer and—’

‘Even if I’m rubbish, my name will get me the gig,’ I finished for him.

‘Now you’re just being deliberately obtuse! He heard you play with Willem at the Logen Theatre, remember? What I’m trying to say is that you never know where that night may
lead. So I really wouldn’t worry too much about finding a job if you do decide to put down permanent roots here.’

My eyes narrowed as I glared at him. ‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, I have. Just like you would have done too.’

 

Exactly three weeks to the day after I had taken the concerto to Felix, I knocked on his front door with trepidation. There was no answer for a while and I began to suspect
that even though it was almost noon, Felix was still sleeping off a hangover.

And when he arrived at the door, bleary-eyed and in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, my heart sank.

‘Hi, Ally. Come in.’

‘Thanks.’

The living room smelt of stale alcohol and tobacco, and my tension grew as I saw the empty whisky bottles lined up like skittles on the coffee table.

‘Sorry about the mess. Sit down,’ he said, gathering up a tatty blanket and pillow from the sofa. ‘I’m afraid I’ve slept where I’ve fallen for the past few
weeks.’

‘Oh.’

‘Drink?’

‘No thanks. You do know why I’m here, don’t you?’

‘Vaguely,’ he said, running a hand through his thinning hair. ‘Something to do with the concerto?’

‘That’s right, yes. Well?’ I said briskly, now desperate to know if he’d risen to the challenge.

‘Yes . . . Now, where did I put it?’

There were piles of sheet music stacked all over the place, many other sheets crumpled into balls which had been there on my last visit and were now collecting dust and cobwebs where
they’d been thrown. I watched miserably as he hunted through bookshelves, overflowing drawers and behind the sofa where I sat.

‘I know I put it somewhere for safekeeping . . .’ he muttered as he bent down to look beneath the piano. ‘Aha!’ he said in triumph as he opened the top of the gorgeous
Blüthner grand piano and secured it with the wooden rod. ‘Here it is.’ He reached inside and took out a mammoth pile of sheet music. Bringing it over to me, he dumped it on my
knees, which nearly collapsed under the weight of it. ‘All done.’

I saw the first sheets were the original piano part, held in a clear plastic file. The next section was for the flute, the next for the viola and then the tympani, just as he’d described.
I turned over file after file of immaculately written music, and by the time I’d got to the brass section, I’d forgotten how many instruments he’d done the orchestrations for. I
looked up at him in sheer unadulterated amazement and watched him smile back at me smugly.

‘If you’d known me for longer, my newfound dearest daughter, you might have known that I always rise to a musical challenge. Especially one as important as this.’

‘But . . .’ My eyes fell on the whisky bottles on the table in front of me.

‘And as I vividly remember telling you, I work better drunk. Sad but true. Anyway, it’s all there, ready for you to take to my beloved son and get a verdict. Personally, I think my
father and I have produced a work of genius.’

‘Well, I’m not qualified to judge the quality, but certainly the amount you’ve done in the time you’ve had is a miracle.’

‘Night and day, darling, night and day. So, off you go.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, I want to go back to sleep. I haven’t had much since I last saw you.’

‘Okay,’ I said as I stood up clutching the enormous bundle to my chest.

‘Let me know the verdict, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will.’

‘Oh, and tell Thom from me that the only part I’m not convinced about is the horns coming in with the oboe in the third bar of the second movement. It might be a little too much.
Goodbye, Ally.’

With that, the door was closed firmly behind me.

 

BOOK: The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2)
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