Authors: Karin Fossum
Because of her work she could not come with him to the plane. They parted on the pavement outside the hotel and for a moment he forgot his shyness and hugged her tightly and fiercely. At that very moment a crack appeared under his shirt. Because he had finally found her and now he had to travel so far away. He was worried about everything that could happen to her. She raised a finger and caressed his nose. Then she was gone. On slender brown legs she disappeared around the corner. Later he sat in the confined space of his airplane seat holding the photograph in his hand. He felt his heart swell in his chest, pumping more blood than usual. He was far too hot. Poona had touched him everywhere. Even inside his ears, where he had never put anything except a cotton wool bud. He felt his fingers and toes, his lips tremble when he so much as thought of her. It was as if everything inside him pulsated and he felt that everyone could see it. Gunder was a loved man. A man who loved. He was almost on fire. He looked at the other passengers, but could see only Poona. How had he actually spent his own life so far? For fifty years he had been on his own, wandering around looking after himself and on rare occasions his sister. The remainder of his life would be lived for Poona. They would share everything. If she was tired or worn out, she would rest. If she longed for home, she would go there on holiday and if he was able to
go with her then that would be fine, but if she wanted time to herself then she would have it. He would listen when she spoke and never interrupt. There was much for her to go through and she would need understanding and support, especially during the first year. He was already looking forward to Christmas, to showing her the Christmas tree and the elves and the angels. And to the springtime, when the first shoots would force their way up through the snow. For her it must all seem like a miracle. So it would be for him, too. From now on everything would be new and wonderful.
***
Marie gazed at the photograph in amazement. Then up at her brother's proud face and down again at the Indian woman, Poona Bai Jomann. With a filigree brooch on her chest. For a long time she was speechless. Her brother had quite simply found himself a wife in India. Walked into a tandoori restaurant and then won her in the space of a few hours. What kind of secret weapon did her brother possess that she had never seen? It was as though Poona had been waiting for him, in Bombay with its millions of people.
"Mumbai," Gunder reminded her. "Well, this is how it happened. She was living her life there just waiting for me. She'll be arriving on the 20th; I'm picking her up from Gardermoen. Look. The marriage certificate," he said proudly.
"You're a great catch for her," said Marie. "I don't suppose there are many men in India with an income like yours."
"She knows I'm not rich," Gunder said.
"Nonsense! You're loaded," said Marie mercilessly. "She's worked that out."
He looked at her hurt, but she didn't notice it because she was still staring at the photograph.
"Karsten will have a heart attack," she said. "You'll have to be prepared for gossip."
However, she was also touched. A sister-in-law! She would never have believed it.
"I'm not bothered about gossip," said Gunder. That she already knew. As happy as her brother was now, nothing could hurt him.
"You'll help her settle in, won't you?" he asked his sister. "You women need to get together and chat like women do. Spend some time together. You'll find her gentle and kind."
"I do wonder what Karsten will say," Marie repeated, obviously worried.
"Surely you're not going to be put off by that?" Gunder said.
"I don't know," she said and shrugged. "I suppose he'll be shocked, at first. I do hope people will be friendly toward her."
"They will be," said Gunder rather airily. "Why wouldn't they be?"
"I was thinking of the young people. They are cruel."
"She's not bothered about young people," said Gunder. "She's thirty-eight years old."
"Very well. I'm just a bit stunned by everything that's happened. But she's very nice looking. What did her family say?"
"All she has left of her family is an older brother who lives in New Delhi. They aren't close."
"But will she settle here? In this ice-cold country?"
"It's only cold during winter," he said quickly. "Living with the heat isn't easy, either. It is fresher here. I told her so. Our air is drier. The humidity in India is so high that you're soaked the moment you step onto the street. She wants to try and find a job. She is capable and willing to learn. She'd prefer waitressing. We'll find something."
Marie sighed. She sat stroking the beautiful ivory elephant that Gunder had brought back for her. Her brother's optimism was so great and so strong that she didn't have the heart to tear it apart. But she did have her doubts. Mostly she was thinking of the Indian woman who was coming to this tiny spot, a remote
corner of the world, peopled by farmers and callous teenagers. There were disdainful people in every single house. Gunder would probably cope, but how much could this woman put up with before she would begin to miss her own people?
Gunder pinned his wedding day photograph onto a notice board above his desk at home. He had to move a photograph of Karsten and Marie, but his wife should have prime position. Every time he looked up at the photograph a powerful sensation welled up in him—it was as though a fountain had sprung deep inside him. This is my wife, he said to himself. Come and meet my wife. Her name is Poona. Then he set eagerly about his work.
New linen for the double bed. With lace trimmings on the pillowcases. New tablecloth for the dining room. Four new towels for the bathroom. Took down the curtains—they needed washing and ironing. Marie helped him. The silver needed polishing—their mother had left him a great deal of silverware. The windows needed cleaning; they had to sparkle so brightly that Poona could look out into the pretty garden with its roses and peonies. The water in the birdbath needed replacing. There was no drain, so he emptied it using a bucket. Then he washed it with soapy water and refilled it. He tidied all the rubbish, pulled up weeds, and raked the gravel drive. All the time he could hear Poona's voice in his head and catch her scent in the air. He saw her face when he lay down at night. Remembered the gentle touch of her finger on his nose.
At work everyone was very curious to hear about his trip. He was tanned and jolly and told them what they wanted to hear, but he did not mention Poona. He wanted to keep her to himself a little while longer. They would soon enough hear, soon enough to begin their whispering.
"You've been a lot in the sun," Bjørnsson said, and nodded approvingly.
Gunder's balding head glowed like a red bulb.
"Not for a moment," Gunder said. "Can't sit in the sun there. I've only been in the shade."
"Good God," Bjørnsson said.
Nevertheless his colleagues secretly suspected that something was going on. He made more calls than usual. Kept going into the empty office and motioned away anyone who appeared in the doorway. He often went shopping on his lunch break. They noticed shopping bags from the china shop and from the home furnishings place that sold textiles and bed linen.
Poona called collect. Her brother was not happy about the marriage, but she was not much concerned about that. "He's just jealous," she said. "He is very, very poor, you see."
"We'll invite him to Norway, when everything is sorted out. He should see how nicely you'll be living. I'll pay for his flight."
"There's no need for you to do that," Poona said. "He doesn't deserve it seeing how grumpy he's being."
"He'll calm down eventually. We'll take photographs and send them to him. Photographs of you in front of the house. And in the kitchen. Then he can see that you're not lacking for anything."
August 20 was approaching. Marie called to let him know that Karsten was going on a business trip to Hamburg and would not be back on the day Poona arrived. The two of them probably wanted to be alone on the first day, she said. "And I won't come rushing over at once. Why don't you come to dinner on the 21st. I'll do venison. And it's Karsten's birthday on the 24th. That way she'll meet him, too. He'll just have to make an effort and be sociable for once."
"He's not sociable?" Gunder said, taken aback.
"You know what he's like," she said.
"We'll take the time we need together," said Gunder. "Poona will need it more. She's the one leaving behind everything and everyone for something completely new."
"I'll go out and get some flowers for tomorrow. I've still got your key," Marie said happily. "I'll put them in the living room with a card for her from Karsten and me. Then she'll feel welcome. When are you leaving?"
"In plenty of time," Gunder said. "The plane lands at 6
P.M.
She changed flights in Frankfurt yesterday and spent the night there. She wanted to do some shopping there first. I mean to be there an hour early, to find a parking space and all that."
"You'll call when you get back, won't you? Just so that I know you found each other."
"Found each other? Why wouldn't we?"
"Well, she's coming ever such a long way. Sometimes there are delays and things like that."
"Of course we'll find each other," Gunder said. And it struck his sister that it had never occurred to him that she would not arrive as anticipated. That she might have cried off at the last minute had never crossed his mind. But it had just crossed hers. He had given her money and bought her a ticket, which she might have been able to cash in. A fortune for a poor woman. Besides it was absolutely impossible to imagine an Indian woman in a turquoise sari in Gunder's kitchen. She didn't say this. She told her brother to drive carefully the long way up the E6.
"Traffic's terrible," she said. "Tomorrow's not a good day for you to have an accident. That would be bad timing."
"It would indeed," Gunder said.
August 20. He had taken the day off work. He got up at 7:00 and drew the curtains. The weather had been fine for a long time, but today the sky was heavy and black and it annoyed him. However, there was some wind, too; perhaps it would brighten up later. Gunder was optimistic. He took a long and thorough shower and made himself a hearty breakfast. Puttered about the house. Studied the photograph of Poona and himself on the wall above his desk. Checked the sky to see if anything was happening. At about 2
P.M.
he saw a blue crack. Soon afterward the sun broke through with twinkling rays. Gunder took this as a sign. The rays were for Poona. In his mind he saw her all the time even as he assumed that she saw him, meeting her gaze in rapid glimpses. Then he could not see her anymore. So he had to find something to do with himself—such as get the mail. Look through the paper. Another hour and a half, he thought, and then I'll be on my way. But why not now? There will be less traffic if I go now. He folded the newspaper carefully and got swiftly to his feet. Left a window ajar and was just about to get the keys from the hook on the wall when the telephone rang. Ominously. No doubt someone from work. They never could manage on their own. That was why he was irritated when he answered. It was a woman's voice, not a voice he knew, but he heard the words clearly on the phone. The Central Hospital.
Marie Jomann Dahl, was she a relative of his? Gunder's breath caught in his throat.
"Yes, my sister. What's happened?"
"A road accident," the woman replied.
He looked at the clock, confused. What had she got up to now?
"Is it serious?" he said.
"I have only been asked to contact the nearest relatives," she said, avoiding his question. "Are you able to come to the hospital?"
"Of course," Gunder said. "I'll leave right away. I should be there in half an hour."
He felt a nasty tightening in his chest. Not that he thought it was something life-threatening, she didn't drive fast enough to seriously hurt herself, but he had to go and meet Poona. Of course he would still make it; Marie would understand that it was important. He grabbed the keys and ran from the house. Drove without concentrating toward the town, checking his watch every few minutes. He imagined an arm in a cast and perhaps some stitches. There goes the venison you promised, he thought. There could be something wrong with her car and she might need a lift home. And
she
had told
him
to drive safely! He breathed through his nose to calm himself. Made his way to the hospital. Searched frantically for a parking space.
"Tenth floor. Neurology," said the woman in reception.
"Neurology?" he said, short of breath again. And went into the elevator. Stood in it with his heart pounding. Poona's on the plane, he thought; she knows I am coming to get her. This won't take long. A sense of guilt consumed him; that bloody Karsten, who was never there when you needed him! He started to sweat. The elevator stopped. A doctor was waiting outside.
"Jomann?"
"Yes! How is she?"
The doctor was finding this difficult. Gunder could see that instantly.
"At the moment we're not exactly sure," he said. The words came in cautious fragments.
Gunder was amazed. Surely they knew what her condition was?
"I'm afraid she has been seriously injured," he went on, looking at Gunder sadly. "She has suffered severe head injuries. For the present she's in a coma."
Gunder leaned heavily against a wall.
"We've put her on a respirator. One lung is perforated. We're hoping she'll regain consciousness in the course of the evening and then we'll know a bit more. In addition she has several fractures—"
"Several fractures?" Gunder felt dizzy. At the same time he looked at his watch.
"What can I do?" he said desperately.
The doctor had no means of knowing Gunder's dilemma. He shook his head slowly. "It would be best for your sister if you could sit by her bed. And talk to her. Even though she may not hear you. We will of course provide you with a bed for the night, should you wish it."
Gunder thought, I can't stay here. Poona is going to be waiting. He felt torn. But there was only one of him and he couldn't divide himself in two. He stopped because the doctor had stopped.