Between Two Seas (29 page)

‘So everyone keeps telling me. I didn’t feel brave. I was scared,’ I admit.

‘That’s what bravery is. Do you think when the lifeboat goes out in a storm, that the men aboard are not afraid? Myself included.’ He pauses, and we walk in silence for a while. When he speaks again there’s constraint in his voice.

‘I also want to apologize. For what I said at midsummer. I was worried for you. But I was also jealous and hurt, and it made me unkind. I know there was nothing between you and that Frenchman. I’m sorry that I ever believed there could be. I see how important your painting is to you and I’m ashamed that I tried to interfere.’ He picks up a pebble from the water’s edge and throws it. It skips twice before disappearing with a small splash. We walk on. When he speaks next, his tone is lighter.

‘I’ll be happier knowing it’s Anna Ancher teaching you than that damnable Frenchman, all the same.’ We both laugh. The implications of what he’s saying fill me with hope and pleasure. But I’m curious too.

‘So what makes you believe all of a sudden that there was nothing?’

‘Your father came to see me the day before yesterday. We had a long talk.’

I’m completely stunned. I don’t know how to reply, so I say nothing for a long while. Finally I ask: ‘My father? So you know … ’

‘He told me a great many things.’

‘I was going to tell you … about my parents,’ I say in a low voice. I hardly dare look at Peter now, terrified I might see something different in his eyes. But to my surprise, he takes my hand.

‘I’m sure you would have done. But perhaps it came best from him. Especially the truth about some of the lies he’s told about you.’

Holding hands, we continue to walk along the sand. The waves hush at our feet. I’m both nervous and happy all at once. The sun sinks below the dunes to our right, and the light changes again. There’s a deep luminous blue glow around us: the Skagen light. I look around me in awe.

‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ I ask Peter.

But Peter is looking at me, drawing me closer. He puts his arms around me. Anxiously, I look up at his face. The love and warmth I see there makes my heart beat faster. I reach one hand up and tenderly touch his cheek, and then his fair hair. He smiles down at me, his eyes shining in the blue dusk.

‘
Jeg elsker dig
, Marianne,’ he whispers. I love you.

I shiver with pleasure, and it’s a moment or two before I realize he’s waiting for an answer.

‘
Jeg elsker også dig
,’ I assure him.

All these months, we’ve loved one another and not known how to say it. How uncomplicated it seems now.

Peter bends his head down and kisses me. His lips and his tongue are soft and warm. As we kiss, I stroke his hair and then his neck, and forget everything except the moment.

Eventually Peter lifts his head and looks down at me again. His arms are close about me in the growing chill of the evening.

‘Do you remember when I carried you across the stream, the day you arrived?’

‘How could I forget? I was so embarrassed.’

‘I know you were. You blushed so red I thought you might catch fire. Such a pale, timid thing you were back then.’

‘It’s not quite a year ago,’ I tell him, but he’s not listening. He’s kissing my forehead, my eyelids, and my cheeks. I close my eyes and lean against him. His lips find mine again.

‘You’ll marry me, won’t you, Marianne?’ he murmurs in my ear.

‘Marry you?’ I say unsteadily.

‘I know it’s too soon to ask you. But you see, I have no doubt in my mind at all,’ he says seriously. ‘I’ll understand though, if you’re not sure. Or if you think you’re too young, I’ll wait.’

‘I could never love anyone like I love you,’ I tell him. ‘And I’d love to marry you, only … ’

‘Only what?’ Peter asks, and his voice is gentle.

‘I want to carry on learning to paint.’ It’s almost dark now, but I can see the flash of his teeth as he smiles.

‘I expected you to say that. You can carry on painting.’

‘Even go to art school if I can get a place?’ I ask daringly. This time it’s Peter who hesitates. ‘I think I could pay for at least some of it myself, by selling these.’ I reach under the neckline of my dress and pull out the pearl necklace that’s hidden there. The pearls glow blue-white in the dusk. I hear Peter catch his breath.

‘I’ve never seen you wear those,’ he says.

‘No, they’re too fine for me.’

Peter shakes his head: ‘Not at all.’ He touches the pearls lightly, arranging them more becomingly. ‘I hope you won’t need to sell these. They look beautiful on you. I can help you pay for art school if that’s what you want to do.’

I’m touched by his response. I’m asking so much, and he’s offering more.

‘Thank you,’ I say softly. He draws me closer.

‘How about a wedding next summer? Then I’ll have the winter to finish the house.’

‘
Det vil være dejligt
. I should like that very much,’ I tell him. I’ve never meant anything more in my life. I’m overflowing with happiness. We seal our engagement with a kiss, and I can feel my body responding to his, full of pleasure and longing.

Then, holding hands, our fingers laced together, we turn and walk slowly back the way we came.

Marie-Louise Jensen (née Chalcraft) was born in Henley-on-Thames of an English father and a Danish mother. Her early years were plagued by teachers telling her to stop reading and stop writing stories and do long division instead. Marie-Louise studied Scandinavian and German with literature at the UEA and has lived in both Denmark and Germany. After teaching English at a German university for four years, Marie-Louise returned to England to care for her children full time. She completed an MA in Writing for Young People at the Bath Spa University in 2005.

Her first novel,
Between Two Seas
, was shortlisted for the Waterstone’s Children’s Book Prize (2008), the Glen Dimplex New Writers Awards (2008), the Hampshire Book Award (2009), and the Branford Boase Award (2009). Her second novel,
The Lady in the Tower
, was shortlisted for the Waterstone’s Children’s Book Prize (2009), and the Wirral Paperback of the Year (2010).

Marie-Louise lives in Bath with her two sons.

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