The House by the Fjord (15 page)

After he had gone home, Gudrun went to write some letters and Anna was left alone with Steffan. He regarded her with the stern expression normal to him.

‘Are you still resolved to return to Gardermoen and afterwards to England?'

‘I'm not going forever. You know that I have promised to visit from time to time.'

‘You will always be welcome, but I had hoped that by now you would at least have decided to stay until the Spring when Ingrid's house in the mountains will no longer be hidden by snow.'

‘Ingrid?' Anna echoed. ‘You have never mentioned a name before.'

‘She was my grandmother, and I have in my possession a journal that she kept for a number of years. It dates back to the 1870s, and because it was written in the old style
Norsk
and her handwriting was sometimes difficult to read, I transposed it myself into today's Norwegian. Then, when I heard I had an English daughter-in-law, I had it translated professionally into English.' He rose from his chair and took a red leather-bound book that had been lying in readiness on a side table. Holding it in both hands, he presented it to her quite formally. ‘This is the English copy for you.'

‘Thank you so much!' She saw that the title in gilded letters read
Ingrid Harvik's Journal
. ‘I'll take great care of it.'

‘I'm sure you will. It is for your eyes only, because Ingrid was a strong and determined young woman, who writes frankly of her desires and emotions. It is as well that none of her descendants ever read it, because I do not doubt they thought of her as an eccentric old lady, never considering that once she was young and passionate. She is the girl with the swathe of yellow hair that you have seen in the painting hanging in the hall.'

‘I have looked at her every time I have passed that painting! Now I am to read her journal!' Anna paused. ‘How can you be sure that her journal was never read by others?'

‘Because when Johan was a boy, he found it accidentally in its original hiding place.'

‘How did it happen?'

‘Johan was twelve years old at the time and we were at the old house, taking a look around before going on up to the mountains for the day. I used to check occasionally to see if any repairs were needed. Then I heard a crash and Johan, who had been jumping about upstairs, had knocked over a small cupboard, sending a drawer shooting out to smash down on to the floor. Amongst the debris was a package, wrapped in a dusty drawstring bag, which had been fastened to the back of the drawer. I remember that Johan was disappointed that it was not buried treasure, and yet it was to me. The opening page made me realize that it was a very private journal written by Ingrid Harvik, who made a home in the old house after it had stood uninhabited for many years.'

‘Does anybody know why she came there?'

‘A reason is given in the journal. I have always respected her privacy, which is why Harry had the other copies printed for me when he was living in the north in Trondheim before the occupation, and where her surname and mine would never be connected. It meant she could retain her anonymity.'

‘Did Johan ever read it?

‘Once, when he was home from university. His outspoken comment to me was that she would have been formidable in war and a delight in bed.'

Anna smiled to herself in amusement. Johan had never minced his words.

‘My wife was too ill to read it when it was found,' Steffan continued, ‘but I read it to her. At the end of it, she said that she felt Ingrid had the power to draw people to her. Perhaps Ingrid will draw you back to Norway so often that in the end you will have to stay.'

She was intrigued, although she guessed that the journal would just be an account of the life of a strong-minded woman that had passed by in childbearing and domestic happenings. She would wait to read it until she was back in Gardermoen when she could sit quietly in her own apartment and, for Steffan's sake, give her full attention to it. She smiled again at Johan's comment. She knew she had been a delight to him at all times, quite apart from the joy they had shared in their bed.

Ten

The rest of Christmas Day was spent quietly, Anna found a children's book on the bookshelves that had belonged to Johan and in which he had written his name. She passed her fingertips gently over the spot. The book was full of tales about trolls, with splendid illustrations showing these long-nosed creatures peeping around mountain crags or rearing up alarmingly out of rivers and waterfalls.

The remaining time she spent chatting with Gudrun and in the evening listening with her and Steffan to a concert on the radio. It was the following day, which the Norwegians called Little Christmas Day, when friends called on one another, and there were coffee parties and even, in one house, a concert performed by family members and, in another, a talented young man played his violin. Anna met Alex twice at different functions during the day. On both occasions he was with a pretty girl whose looks reminded Anna of Sonja Henie, the Norwegian Olympic skater and film star. He introduced them to each other, but Anna had no clue as to whether the girl, whose name was Eva, was a steady girlfriend or, perhaps, something more. Later she asked Gudrun about her.

‘They go around together whenever she comes home to Molde. But that is not very often as Eva has a lovely singing voice. She does a lot of broadcasting and concerts.'

Usually Gudrun and Anna went by themselves to these gatherings, for Steffan preferred a quiet time at home. He even declined an invitation from Harry the following evening and Gudrun did the same, thinking she should stay with him. Anna had already accepted and Harry came in his car to collect her.

‘Has Steffan spoken any more about the ancient house he wants to load on to you?' he asked as they drove along.

‘No,' she said. ‘I think he is beginning to understand that I'm not under his thumb and that this may be my only visit to Molde before I return to England.'

‘So how much do you know about the property?'

‘Alex explained it all to me soon after my arrival in Norway.'

‘If my advice is of any value to you, don't get involved with anything to do with it. Nobody has been in that house for years, and although these old log buildings can stand for centuries, it doesn't mean to say they don't deteriorate in one way or another.'

She enjoyed the evening, for the other six guests were lively and interesting. There was a long discussion about the marvel of Scotsman Baird's invention of television. There had been some televising from a building known as the Alexandra Palace in London before the war, but Anna had never seen any of it. It was said that one day there would be a television screen in every household, but that possibility seemed very remote.

Harry drove Anna home after the others had left. She was afraid he might become amorous when they said goodnight, but she kept her distance and he made no attempt to embrace her.

‘I'll see you again before you leave,' he said as he stepped away from the porch, ‘even though you haven't much time left now.'

As she entered the house, she thought to herself that Harry was the only one who kept referring to her departure. It was almost as if he wanted her gone in spite of his obvious wish that they should be friends.

New Year's Eve was the last highlight of her visit. Alex gave a good party in his apartment on the outskirts of town. There was plenty to drink, lots of talk and laughter, and a
kalt bord
that offered a number of delicacies, including roasted venison, which she suspected might be reindeer, but she did not want to know and did not ask. His pretty girlfriend was not present, and when she made a casual enquiry, she was told that Eva was singing in a New Year's concert in Oslo.

Dancing took place on the polished floor to the music of gramophone records, although one of the guests played the piano for some of the time, and Anna had no shortage of partners. After earlier dances with her, Alex returned to claim her in the waltz that was the last to be danced in the old year.

‘This has to be mine,' he said with a smile, ‘since you are my guest of honour.' She thought to herself that he had a way of looking into her eyes as if he were trying to see into her very being. She had noticed it at their first meeting in Oslo. She supposed it was because, as a lawyer, he was always trying to root out the truth. Whatever did he suppose she might be hiding from him?

‘It's been a great party – one I shall remember,' she said.

Time had been slipping away and glasses were refilled as Alex switched on the radio. Then from Oslo came the striking of midnight and the greeting:
Godt Nytt Ar!
There was cheering and music. The year of 1948 had arrived. Anna missed the old custom from home of singing
Auld Lang Syne
, and there followed in the room more handshaking than she had ever seen in England, but there was kissing too. Alex's lips were firm and warm and altogether enjoyable. As they drew apart, they looked at each other with a kind of understanding of what might have been if they had chosen to look for it and if her heart had not been swept away long since. She was going home to England and that would be like a door closing between them.

One of the young women there came to touch Anna on the arm. ‘Are you ready to leave, Anna? Lars and I have to get back to our babysitter and we can give you a lift.'

She accepted, thanked Alex, and left him with his other guests. She was privately thankful that he would not be taking her home as he had expected. One kiss was enough, and she was sure another would have been forthcoming when they were alone.

Eleven

Anna packed Ingrid's journal into her hand baggage when she made ready to leave on the final day of her stay in Molde. She would not risk letting it out of her immediate care. Now she would be travelling back by day with Pat and Rolf and little Mandy in the train seats that had been booked at the same time as the sleepers. It was an early morning departure and Alex arrived in good time to drive her to the railway station.

‘All ready?' he asked, picking up her suitcase to put in the car.

‘Yes,' she answered, not liking this moment of goodbye. She had said her farewell to Steffan the night before, because he did not rise as early as her departure. He would only have shaken her hand, but she had kissed him lightly on the cheek. Now, under the light in the porch, she and Gudrun exchanged a hug. There was an imploring look in the woman's eyes.

‘Come back to us soon, Anna,' she whispered. ‘Please don't stay away.'

‘I'll visit again, but whether it will be after I have been back to England or before I can't say at the present time,' Anna said. She did not feel able, even at this time of an emotional farewell, to promise anything more.

Alex was holding the car door for her and she went quickly down the porch steps to take her seat. As they drove away, she and Gudrun waved to each other. It was still dark, but already the sky was lifting. Fresh snow had fallen in the night, but the snowploughs had cleared the road. Anna looked from side to side as they drove through the town centre where early lights were appearing in the shops.

‘What are you thinking about?' Alex asked, noticing how attentive she was to the passing scene,

‘I'm wondering how much Molde will have changed when I see it again. I hope it will be the town of roses all over again, even though it has lost its most important treasure.'

They continued talking as they drove along. At first it was mostly about his New Year Eve party, she wanting to know more about the people whom she had met.

‘It was a great evening,' she said.

‘Let's make it a date for next year,' he said.

She glanced at him. ‘If I'm in Norway,' she said,

‘You will be,' he replied confidently.

At Andalsnes railway station, Pat and Rolf were waiting for them, Mandy clutching a new rag doll that had been her favourite Christmas gift. The train was on time, already at the platform. Pat looked anxiously at Anna.

‘Did all go well?' she asked at once, her tone full of concern. ‘I thought you sounded all right when we talked on the telephone.‘

‘Yes,' Anna replied reassuringly. ‘Speaking figuratively, I have crossed a bridge with my father-in-law. I know I'll always be welcome whenever I return.'

Rolf had exchanged New Year greetings with Alex and was impatient to get his charges on to the train. ‘Come along. You girls can talk all you want when we're aboard.'

As Anna turned to have a final word of farewell with Alex, he took her by the shoulders, drawing her dose to him, and kissed her deeply for a matter of seconds. She felt totally captured, held as much by the pleasure of his mouth as she was by the firmness of his hold on her. Then he released her with a smile that met hers before she entered the train and followed Pat to the booked seats. She sat down by the window and looked out, expecting to see Alex, but he had gone. Yet his kiss lingered with her in a most pleasing sensation well into the journey.

Back in her apartment at Gardermoen, Anna found mail waiting for her. There were some Christmas cards from friends in England that must have arrived after she had left, a letter from her aunt, who had not been well and emphasized how much she had needed Anna's attention, closing as always on the question that came in every letter: when would she be returning home? Interestingly, there were two notifications from her training college of interviews for teaching posts, one in Kent and the other in Derbyshire. Either post would have suited her well, but she would have to be on the next ferry back to England if she wished to be in time to attend the interviews and she was not quite ready yet for departure. She thought again about the offer to teach that had been made to her in Molde and how well that appointment would have fitted into her life if she had not been going back to England before long.