Barbara (32 page)

For the first time in his life Pastor Poul really discovered Mrs Anna Sophie Heyde, and he immediately felt at ease with her. She was big, fair and gentle and in everything she did she reflected an understanding that comforted him a little. Indeed, he suddenly sensed a caressing and soothing hand. He decided at once that he would also speak to her as a friend and unburden himself to Anna Sophie. He longed and thirsted for her feminine friendship. He had long been so lonely, indeed ever since he had come to this country. He suddenly realised that Barbara had not been his friend. She had been an adversary, indeed his enemy, and he had had to play against her all alone. He longed now to talk to a friend – about his enemy, about his enemy…

And Anna Sophie looked kindly and thoughtfully at him.

“You have so much power over her even so,” she said. “I noticed what went on during the play yesterday evening.”

Pastor Poul felt a secret joy. “I suppose there were others who noticed as well,” he commented.

“Not everyone, not everyone,” laughed Anna Sophie.

“Really?”

“Not Jeppe.” She gave a deep sigh and shook her head. “Oh, Andreas. He was so sure of himself. And when he had finally finished playing the part of Jeppe, he was so drunk that he simply didn’t miss her. Not until this morning…”

“Is he so negligent with her?” asked Pastor Poul. He suddenly felt terribly depressed.

“Negligent… I don’t know what to say. Not always at any rate. Our dear Andreas can be pretty empressé. And then no one can resist him.”

“Aye, aye,” said Pastor Poul, his face contracting in pain. “I know it; he understands the art. Sometimes negligent, sometimes attentive. Barbara is like that as well. Don’t you think I know how to deal with it?… But I just don’t do it.”

He stared darkly at the table top. Nothing hurt him so much as this fact, that Andreas could be negligent towards Barbara and yet loved by her.

“Cheer up,” said Anna Sophie. “In this game it never goes according to the rules.”

“Aye, he who can be the most negligent is the winner,” was Pastor Poul’s dispirited reaction.

“Ha ha, you’re a man. You have no idea how we women love to cheat. Especially Barbara. She always cheats, oh God, oh God. Do you think for instance that what she did yesterday evening was in accordance with the rules? You certainly didn’t look particularly negligent when you came into the theatre, ha ha. You looked rather as though you had just been dug up out of the cemetery. Good Lord… and yet she went with you.”

Anna Sophie shook her head admiringly.

“It was probably out of pity,” said Pastor Poul tentatively.

“No, it was out of… well, femininity! She has a lovely nature. If only there were others like her. You know… all we other women love her… although we ought to envy her. And that’s saying a lot.”

Anna Sophie laughed. Pastor Poul said nothing. He sat there burning with desire for Barbara; he emptied his glass, and she was in his thoughts. He wanted her so much that every joint in his body hurt him. He had slept with her last night, and that had seemed quite improbable to him. But it was even more improbable that she would come back to him this evening. Although she had promised to. No, he did not believe it. And yet he believed it and found himself in a state of intense excitement.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Not here – as you can imagine. She never comes here. Nor do we see much of Andreas. They have their regular spots…”

Pastor Poul felt a landslide of disappointment and horror. It dawned on him that he had all along believed that she was somewhere or other here at Reynegard. Ridiculous idea. Now it was suddenly as though she had completely escaped him. She had her secret paths.

“She’s full of lies,” he suddenly exclaimed.

Anna Sophie shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“So are all women. We have to be. You mustn’t think badly of us for that. When a woman tells a lie, it isn’t the same as when a man tells a lie. No, we are different.”

“I’m losing Barbara,” said Pastor Poul.

“One never loses Barbara,” said Anna Sophie with a smile. “But on the other hand, one never possesses her entirely. If you simply understood that, you could perhaps take it all more calmly.”

“Aye, so that’s what she’s like,” said Pastor Poul angrily. “She wants the lot. She wants Andreas, but that doesn’t at all mean that she wants to give me up. She never gives any man up. But in this case, she’s going to have to make a choice.”

“She will never be forced. Nothing will force her.”

“I won’t force her, but I might kick her as far into Hell as a hare can jump in fourteen years.”

Pastor Poul got up. Everything went black before him.

“She will come back to you,” said Anna Sophie quietly.

“Do you mean that? Seriously?”

Pastor Poul was suddenly a different person.

“You can be almost sure of it. I think I understand Barbara. I think you should show a little confidence in me. Meanwhile, you must take it calmly. You have your life before you. Nor should you forget that there are other women in the world.”

She rose and as it were stretched a little; she was big and blonde and gentle and smiled briefly. Pastor Poul felt this gesture like a glimpse of sunshine through the mist and always remembered it, in the way in which one often remembers completely indifferent observations.

He was a little intoxicated when he finally left Reynegard. He would probably have stayed there for ever talking about Barbara if the dusk had not reminded him that evening was approaching. A terrible tension and impatience started to press on his heart, but he was helpless and could do nothing but wait. Here he sat in Nýggjastova, in Barbara’s home, and he was one of the family. But where was Barbara?

Magdalene, his mother-in-law, put some food before him and did not deign to address many words to him. When he said something to the effect that Barbara could probably be expected soon, she merely turned an indescribably incredulous face to him.

“Well, where can she be?” he asked.

“Do you think that I ever know where she is or who she is with? She is my daughter, I can’t deny that, and I have tried to bring her up as well as possible. But now, Pastor Poul, I wash my hands of her; I have always told you I would, and now I am washing my hands of her.”

Time passed and the loneliness was a nightmare to Pastor Poul. He sometimes thought someone was taking hold of the door catch, and at those moments he was filled with such anticipation that he both saw Barbara’s figure before his eyes and heard her sparkling voice.

“My dear! Have you been waiting long? Are you angry with me?”

But Barbara did not come, and the vague click of her mother’s cards from her game of patience was the only sound he heard.

Pastor Poul could not stay still. He went out.

“Say I’ve gone down to the bailiff’s,” he said to his motherin-law.

She answered him with a sarcastic nod and sighed. And set about a new game of patience.

Gabriel was smoking a long chalk pipe and was in a good mood. His wife Suzanne was sitting nursing little Augustus. Bailiff Harme himself had gone to lie down; he had recently become very frail. But as for his daughter, it was noticeable how well she looked; even Pastor Poul could not help noticing that. A fresh fine radiance had appeared in her smiling cheeks and teeth, and in her eyes there was a roguish look that grew into radiant sunshine every time she looked at her son. She was an exquisite, dark beauty, and Gabriel smoked his pipe and possessed her to such an extent that Pastor Poul could almost hear him say; “There, my friend. This is the way of a wise man.”

But Suzanne, sitting by the window and cradling her son, started to sing:

Close the window tight, my dear,

Wish the whole dear world good cheer,

Wind and rain have brought him back

And so I know I nought shall lack.

“What is all that dreadful rubbish you’re singing?” said an irritated Gabriel.

But Suzanne merely turned her roguish eyes towards her husband and went on singing.

Can I not sing as I will

To my child

As I wish

And as I can

And as I must.

Close the window tight, my dear,

Wish the whole dear world good cheer,

Wind and rain have brought him back…

Gabriel went out – rather suddenly. He left the room. It could have been the call of nature. Suzanne laughed. It was a well-known lullaby she had been singing. But Gabriel didn’t know it. It had never been sung at his cradle.

His good humour was half spoiled when he returned. In a rough voice he asked where Barbara – that is to say Mrs Aggersøe – was that evening. Pastor Poul replied that she was out, but that he expected her to be home soon.

“Hmm,” Gabriel burst into a snigger. “Then you’ll have a long wait.”

Pastor Poul had no answer to this, but Gabriel continued in a voice trembling with scorn: “Never in all my born days have I seen anything as plain stupid as your marriage to her last summer.”

Both Suzanne and Pastor Poul were quite amazed at Gabriel. He was almost weeping. Malicious pleasure, fury and past suffering were intertwined in his voice.

“Let us not talk about Barbara now,” said Suzanne in an attempt to put him off.

“Talk about her? Is Pastor Poul perhaps not to be allowed to talk about his own wife?”

He turned towards Pastor Poul: “I don’t know how much you intend to put up with. If I were in your place then… God, what impudence! I can have her put behind bars if you wish and her gallant along with her!”

“Put her behind bars?” said Pastor Poul. “And make me a complete laughing stock?”

“You’re already a laughing stock, damn it. It can never be worse. Do you want to be Pastor Niels all over again? Or even worse? She’s never been as bloody randy and shameless in view of everyone just as she is now. It radiates from her everywhere she goes. She’s… she’s a scandal. Puh. And then… aye, God help us… going off with you yesterday evening as though there was nothing wrong. Ha ha ha, oh dear. God help me, you are more gullible…”

“Oh, you are so hard, Gabriel.” Suzanne’s voice was dry and sharp. Her face was flushed with anger.

“Hard! Hard! Perhaps it hasn’t dawned on you that is my task and duty… and your father’s… to watch over… morality. Isn’t that right? But of course. Of course. Your sweet duty as a wife is as usual to take the side of the baggage, the whore, the paramour and invite her to a cup of coffee… while I am out.”

Pastor Poul didn’t know what to say. He was worn out, ashamed and in despair, and in images that were far too clear he saw how Barbara had lived and shone in this world of trivialities while he himself had been caught on Mikines.

Gabriel went out and returned with a bottle of brandy in one hand and a copy of King Christian the Fifth’s Norwegian Law in the other. With magisterial weight he placed the heavy book on the table, told his wife to fetch some glasses, filled them and offered them round. Pastor Poul immediately emptied his glass; he did so in his distress and without any dignity. It was the only thing he could do. There was nothing he could say.

“Let’s see,” said Gabriel, starting to flick through the book. “Let’s see what the law says… mmmmm…”

He licked his fingers and turned the pages with an unaccustomed hand. He had not been concerned with the law for many months. “Here it says… here it says… let’s see. Concerning murder. On severing limbs and wounding, no. On challenges and duels. No!” He was sweating: “Regarding domestic violence, regarding keeping the peace in church, no. Regarding damage, regarding accidentally wounding. No!” He was sweating: “Regarding self-defence, no. Regarding… loose living!”

He almost shouted it and then sniggered: “Aye, that’s a bit steep. A parson’s wife, too! Let’s see: ‘Where a woman commits adultery, a fine to the man of 24 pieces of silver and to the woman of 12 pieces of silver, and both must do public penance.’ ”

He sniggered again. “But if they do not have the means to pay the fines – by God they haven’t, at least she hasn’t – then they shall be punished by imprisonment. But if they marry, he will pay four and a half pieces of silver and she half that amount and they shall not be required to do public penance…”

The parson stiffened, and Gabriel, too, looked a little dubious. But then he said: “Oh, but this is only about single people. I thought as much – the punishments are too mild.”

He emptied his glass. “There must be something about married women, that’s to say about adultery, Let me see… it wouldn’t be too much if she were to be given a public whipping, would it?”

Pastor Poul rose. He was in a state of wild agitation. “I don’t demand any punishment at all for her, I simply do not,” he stammered fervently: “No revenge, no. Although she has… cost me…”

He stood leaning against the chair back, and the chair was trembling between his hands.

“And then,” he added after a time, suddenly thinking again: “I mean, she might change her mind.”

These words were uttered in a tone of desperation. He started walking to and fro.

“I am sure she will. You’ll see,” said Suzanne with a curiously convinced tone in her voice.

“Aye, she probably will,” was Gabriel’s dry comment as he stopped between two paragraphs.

“No, you won’t make her any better by whipping her,” said Suzanne passionately, rising with flashing eyes.

“Be quiet,” replied Gabriel, continuing to read eagerly. “It’s not at all certain there is any authority for whipping her. There’s all sorts of other rubbish here. But my God, it would do her good.”

He leant back in his chair. “A really good thrashing over there at the whipping post. The day that happened…”

“All you are doing is showing what sort of a man you are, you miserable creature,” said Suzanne through gritted teeth.

Gabriel looked a little ashamed and took a glass. “I only mean she needs a good beating. That’s my opinion,” he said.

“What concern is it of yours?” hissed Suzanne. “What have you to do with it? Here’s Pastor Poul, and when all is said and done, he is the one most concerned. He can punish her himself if he wants.”