Читать книгу The Ice People 28 - Ice and Fire - Margit Sandemo - Страница 6

Chapter 1

The sunset was a cool yellow under a shapeless mass of dark, leaden cloud. It was late in the evening and all colours had vanished from the landscape; only in the west was the sky lit by that distant, dim yellow that resembled highly polished brass.

“You should tread carefully here, Signe,” said Belinda, who was always considerate towards her sister. “I can barely see the ground beneath my feet.”

“Isn’t it all topsy-turvy, that you’re telling me to be careful?” smiled Signe. “You’re the one who’s always falling over.”

“Yes,” answered Belinda, laughing with delight, not sensing the sarcasm in her sister’s voice. “You’re right.”

Signe went on: “Goodness, how late it got at the priest’s house! He talks and talks, and you can’t very well interrupt him. But we will soon be home at Elistrand.”

She squeezed Belinda’s arm, which she was holding to support herself. “I’m so happy you’ve come to visit. I’m perfectly all right, of course, and Herbert is a good husband in his own way. And his mother is also living with us. Yet still it can be lonely sometimes.”

Belinda was so grateful to be of some help to her sister. She let out a trembling sigh at the memory of Signe’s wonderful wedding. Never before had she experienced anything so utterly beautiful or moving. Signe was the most beautiful bride imaginable and Herbert Abrahamsen had gazed at her with proud and loving eyes. And he was such a handsome man! Until now Belinda had been convinced that there was no one good enough for Signe, but she couldn’t have found a better husband! Belinda was completely happy for her sister.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t help feeling a slight sense of unease, which she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Signe was doing well here at Elistrand – very well indeed – and Herbert was extremely considerate towards her now that she was with child. “We have to take good care of Signe, isn’t that right, Belinda? We’re expecting a little Mr Abrahamsen, so nothing must happen to Signe!”

It was a good thing that Herbert’s mother lived in the house too. She was a lonely widow. So she would be able to keep Signe company. It was true that she didn’t appear all that often, but still, she lived there. That was the most important thing.

Signe said: “We just have to walk up that hill, then we’ll be able to see Elistrand ... Oh God, though, what’s that?”

Both the sisters started. At the top of the hill they could see a rider silhouetted against the deep yellow sunset. He had appeared out of the blue and now he and his horse stood motionless. Belinda tried to get a glimpse of the stranger. He was a rather young man with dark hair and a short cloak. His features were much harder to make out but they seemed to be dominated by dark, angry eyebrows and an inscrutable expression. If they expressed anything, it certainly wasn’t satisfaction.

He watched the two sisters for a moment, then he turned his horse and rode down to the crossroads and was swallowed up by the darkness.

Signe placed her hand on her chest. “My goodness, it wasn’t good for me to see that in my condition. Visions like that bring bad luck.”

Belinda grew cold with fear. Women who were expecting shouldn’t see frightening things. It meant bad luck if they did – everyone knew that.

“Who was it?” she asked faintly.

“The owner of Graastensholm, Viljar of the Ice People. They say he’s mad. Oh, Belinda, you don’t think my child will be mad, do you? I mean, Mother saw a fool before you were born.”

They clung to one another.

Then they continued on their way home, much faster now.

“He seemed much too young to be a landowner,” Belinda said.

“Actually his father’s parents, Heike and Vinga Lind of the Ice People, are really the landowners here. But they are getting old and have begun to hand over the responsibility to him.”

“But he must have parents too? What happened to them?”

“Eskil and Solveig Lind of the Ice People live on Linden Avenue. That’s the small farm you saw today.”

“Didn’t the Ice People also originally own Elistrand?” Belinda wanted to know.

“Yes, and Mrs Vinga did her best to keep it, but there was no one to inherit it and running it is a big job. So at last she came to realize that it was no use. Yes, well, I suppose you can deduce that I keep up with the village gossip. Please don’t grip my arm so tightly, Belinda, I am perfectly able to walk on my own. Yes, so Herbert got the opportunity to buy Elistrand. It is a magical house. It’s so distinguished. But there are far too many cold rooms. It’s not so strange that the Ice People had to give it up: they don’t have all that much money. We have made a lot of repairs to the house – you haven’t seen half of it yet.”

But Belinda had seen some of it and she had done her best to show how impressed she was by the improvements, for no one in the world had such good taste as Signe and her husband. She herself did not have much insight into that sort of thing, because to her interior decorating was neither fish nor fowl.

But, then, she was so stupid ...

Signe went on chatting away as Elistrand’s windows came into view. “Herbert was the only one who could afford to buy the farm. He wanted a life for us befitting our rank, which there’s no denying that we have.”

“Oh, yes! I’m so happy that you married Herbert, Signe! Isn’t he wonderfully kind to you?”

“Yes, yes,” her sister quickly responded. “He waits on me hand and foot.”

Belinda smiled gently with joy. Herbert was always so considerate: for example, during dinner today he had said, “You must eat for two, Signe! Belinda, we must take good care of Signe – she is an important person now. She is expecting my son, you understand!”

Herbert was terribly handsome. Manly and very principled. He was a public official, and they had to be particular about every detail or else society couldn’t function properly! That was what Signe had said once, and Signe was always right. “I think that little extra weight he has put on of late becomes him. It just signals to the outside world that he can afford it. And he is handsome, don’t you think?”

Belinda looked at Herbert through Signe’s eyes and also thought he was handsome. His face was as smooth as a baby’s, his skin was olive with a suggestion of a dark beard, and his hair was slicked back with plenty of hair oil.

Yes, he was without a doubt the most handsome man on earth. That was what Signe had said. And that was what all the servant girls said as well, according to Signe. And all the ladies at the wedding. How they had all sighed! So Belinda had sighed too, because that was apparently what one was supposed to do.

The faint sense of reluctance re-emerged. Herbert had looked at her in such a strange way today, from her head to her feet and then back up again. He had looked away several times, but whenever she turned towards him she found that he had been looking at her. Was there something wrong with her clothes? She did have a tendency to button her bodice askew – that was the kind of mistake she would make. “A fiasco – clumsy Belinda, the family clown,” they would say about her. Well, that was probably true, but did it matter so much that there was a clown in the family? There was nothing wrong with being a clown. She didn’t mind other people laughing at her.

Signe’s voice woke her out of her daydream. “Do you know, Belinda? I’ve always been a little envious of you.”

“Of me? I think I am going to faint!”

But she didn’t.

“Well, I have,” Signe said, laughing. “That you were the one who got that pretty name, Belinda, while I got the boring-sounding name, Signe. I’ll never forgive our parents for that. It’s so unfair!”

“Do you think Belinda sounds pretty?” Belinda asked, her face lighting up. “To me it sounds like the name of a cow.”

“Absolutely not!” Signe objected. “I’m so disappointed that I wasn’t given that name. It would have suited me perfectly, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so,” Belinda answered reluctantly, for she had always simply thought of Signe as Signe and of herself as Belinda. As though she had been born with that name.

But Signe had changed the subject now. “Herbert has big plans, I can tell you! As you know, there is far too much land attached to the farm, and since Christiania is growing so fast and people want more houses, he’s considering selling the land as a building plot. He’s going to be filthy rich!”

“I thought he already was.”

“Yes, but Elistrand wasn’t cheap. But he saw the potential in it – that’s why he bought it. To divide it up and sell it to the rich who want to live in the country.”

Belinda looked around with her childish, open gaze. But there wasn’t much to be seen in the dark. A small thought occurred to her – or perhaps it was more of a feeling. She had seen Graastensholm Parish during the day and had been overjoyed by the peaceful quietness and the beautiful, gentle lines of the landscape. Now she was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of sorrow.

New houses had already been built just outside Graastensholm’s boundaries. The development had crept across the parish border with tremendous speed in the last few years. Everywhere along the lane leading to Signe’s house she had seen new, two-storey houses, and it had somehow pained her, she wasn’t sure why. Signe had talked about the new development with such enthusiasm, and Belinda had nodded, for Signe was always right, but deep down she felt divided.

“What do the Ice People think of your husband’s plans?” she asked as they walked through the impressive gate to Elistrand. Centuries ago it had been Alexander Paladin’s wedding gift to his daughter, Gabriella.

“The Ice People? Are you mad? Herbert never mentioned anything about his plans or he would never have been allowed to buy Elistrand! But the farm is his now so he can do whatever he likes with it.”

Belinda could hardly recognize her big sister, whom she worshipped. It was almost like hearing Herbert talk, she thought.

She stopped and looked pensively back towards the hill they had just passed. But the last glow in the sky had been extinguished by ash-grey, and the horizon was clear and empty.

Some people can’t whistle and sing at the same time.

Belinda was one such person.

Her shoes would get stuck in the kerbstone, she would get caught in the door, or she would poke people in the hand with her thumb instead of shaking hands to greet them.

Little accidents like that were often due to insecurity on her part. You are nervous that you will choose the wrong door and sure enough, you walk right into the most private room in the house. You are so worried that you are going to make a mistake that you inevitably end up doing just that.

And in Belinda’s case it wasn’t so strange that she felt insecure.

She was the second child in a long line of siblings, and all her brothers and sisters were intelligent children and had done well. Belinda wasn’t downright stupid, she was just a little slower in her thoughts and actions than the others. She was simple-minded in the best sense of the word.

She wasn’t exactly a beauty, either; she was ordinary, neither pretty nor ugly, with medium blonde, thick hair and friendly eyes. But if you have been born into a family stuffed with beauties, the difference suddenly becomes striking.

Belinda’s mother had said the nicest thing about her: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.” And really that was precisely what one thought when looking at her.

The star of the family was Signe. She was perfect, and their parents were always reminding Belinda of that fact. “Look at Signe and how well she’s doing. You don’t want to be inferior to her, do you?”

Those words had haunted Belinda since her early childhood. “Can anyone understand how those two can be sisters?”

Now you might have expected Belinda to resent Signe to a great degree, but that wasn’t Belinda’s style. She merely shrank, while her admiration for Signe grew. Whatever Signe did, Belinda did as well. Signe’s thoughts and opinions became hers. If Signe had a rose-pink dress then Belinda had one, too, even though the colour didn’t suit her at all. She even imitated the way Signe spoke and her tone of voice. For if everyone loved Signe for the way she was, then they would also have to love Belinda for being the same way.

So Belinda struggled hard to resemble Signe in every respect, which only elicited scornful laughter. And her younger siblings contributed to her low self-esteem by using their quick wit and inventiveness, and they smiled benignly and teasingly at her as she allowed herself to be tricked in the most unbelievable ways.

Then the most horrible thing imaginable occurred: Signe died. She went into labour, everything went much too fast and she couldn’t manage it. By then Belinda had travelled back to Christiania and she blamed herself for not having stayed with her sister.

It was a fourfold tragedy for Belinda. Not only did she feel pain and empathy for the new-born, motherless child, but she grieved over her beloved sister so that she thought her heart would break, while her family practically canonized Signe.

And this reflected badly on Belinda, who was the oldest daughter. “No, Belinda, Signe would never have set the table that way!” “Oh, dearest Mrs Svendsdatter, it is such a tragedy! Now there is only poor Belinda left to help with the household chores, and even though that poor girl tries very hard, it will never be the same as with Signe!” “Yes, I always said that Signe was much too good for this world! God always chooses to take the best ones first and she was already a little angel in her life here on earth, wasn’t she?” “Oh. Belinda, can’t you take a moment to think? Your brain is like a sieve, you pour information in and it leaks out immediately. You must fold the napkin so that the monogram faces out, not in! Oh, how I do miss Signe!”

Belinda’s self-confidence shrank and shrank, which made her do even more clumsy things. Because of the big age difference between her and her other siblings, she ended up having to do most of the household chores. She had had to anyway, after Signe was married, but her parents hadn’t given it much thought then. It wasn’t until now, after Signe’s death, that they really noticed the differences between the two sisters.

Often Belinda felt drawn to the idea of dying. Perhaps she, too, would become a saint in the eyes of her family and would once again meet Signe, whom she so worshipped; Signe, whom she missed so much that it tore unbearably at her heart.

And she thought of the little girl who was now living at Elistrand. Belinda’s parents had time and again asked Herbert Abrahamsen for permission to care for Signe’s daughter, but he would not hear of it. He already had help, he said.

There was something else that bothered Belinda. It was the vision the two sisters had seen that night. That had undoubtedly been the cause of Signe’s death, Belinda believed. And it had been Belinda’s fault: she should have made the sign of the cross and recited the word of God at the rider who had appeared out of the darkness. Then Signe would have been alive today.

One day Belinda’s tragedy reached its climax, but no one else was aware of it at the time.

Herbert Abrahamsen announced his arrival and made his entrance dressed in mourning. His hair had thinned considerably since she had last seen him, he was slightly paler and, even though he concealed it well, he had gained a little more weight.

He sat there in Belinda’s father’s drawing room and asked for her hand!

Her parents were dumbfounded and stared at him in disbelief.

They slowly began to realize what this might mean. A very rich man was sitting before them – a man whom they had been delighted to get as a son-in-law the first time round – and was offering to marry the one daughter they had thought they would never be able to get off their hands. And he had grown even richer in the meantime!

Belinda was quickly summoned. She entered wearing her apron and fumbled so horribly trying to get it off that it made Herbert frown disapprovingly. In a euphoric voice her mother told her the incredible news.

Belinda responded in her usual rash and spontaneous way. “No, thank you!” she said.

Both parents let out a horrified gasp. “But, Belinda!”

Then there was a huge commotion. Her parents scolded her, but they didn’t know how to go about appeasing the rejected gentleman.

Belinda dropped her head into her hands in confusion. “I can’t do that,” she said in a pathetic voice. “He is Signe’s!”

They stared at her, trying to understand her train of thought – which never followed the conventional way of thinking.

“Of course, it’s out of respect,” said her mother, in an attempt to smooth things over. “She probably doesn’t feel that she can replace her sister.”

Herbert opened his slack mouth, which so many women found sensual. “She won’t be able to do that, but I need a son as soon as possible. One who can succeed me one day. And there will be quite a bit for him to inherit as well. It was unfortunate that my first wife died, but I imagine that your next oldest daughter is more robust and can be of more use in that regard.”

Once again he let his eyes glide over her body with one of those strange glances, and she shuddered slightly without meaning to.

Oh, didn’t they understand anything? It was so difficult for her to express things properly. Didn’t they understand that she didn’t want to take over anything that had once been Signe’s? Especially not her husband, of whom she had been so proud. Belinda wouldn’t have a moment’s rest if she were to take Signe’s place as Herbert’s wife. What a blasphemous thought!

That was her train of thought, but she didn’t know how to put it into words.

Herbert Abrahamsen continued, “Of course, we will have to wait until our year of mourning has passed, that goes without saying. But I have a child under my roof in need of loving care now. So if your daughter could come immediately ...”

“Of course, that goes without saying!” Belinda’s mother answered.

“Why can’t the child live here instead?” asked Belinda quickly.

Herbert looked Belinda directly in the eyes for the first time. He had lush brown eyes that made the little servant girls swoon. Belinda shook her head in confusion. For some odd reason she thought of a cow.

In a slightly sharp tone he said: “We’ve already discussed that. The child is mine and will, naturally, stay in my house. I would like to see it brought up according to my terms and principles. I have employed a nurse and a nanny for her, but they will both be stopping soon. The nurse is no longer necessary and the nanny ...” He interrupted himself. “The heart of the matter is that what the girl really needs is a mother, and I can’t think of a better person to take that place than Signe’s own sister!”

As the grown-ups went on speaking, Belinda’s thoughts flew and fluttered in their own strange direction. Nearly every cell in her body objected to taking her beloved Signe’s place. She just couldn’t do it! Even Herbert Abrahamsen must know how clumsy and hopeless she was. There was no way in the world that she would ever wish to take responsibility for a small, delicate child. Why, she could let a glass bowl slip out of her hands from sheer absentmindedness!

But there was something else that was bothering her. Although Belinda wasn’t used to getting attention from the opposite sex, the glances she was receiving from Herbert made her extremely uneasy. She couldn’t define this sense of unease, but it made her thoughts flutter and fly. She didn’t understand why she got the impression that this man had other intentions for her. Everyone said that he was a handsome man and a good catch. Signe had said it as well, so it had to be true. But Signe had also inadvertently insinuated something along the lines of him being “passionate to the point of being over-sexed”. Belinda, at eighteen, hadn’t understood those words entirely, but they were what concerned her the most.

She felt that it had to do with her own great secret. She herself could experience strange waves moving through her body, as though her blood was growing warmer, and there was this vague, unfamiliar longing that she had often felt and which could suddenly grow painfully stronger. No one knew of her reveries in the quiet of the night, her attempts to subdue the intrusive needs of her body, her great fear and shame over the things she did.

The truth was that Belinda was an exceptionally hot-blooded young woman. What she lacked in intellect she made up for in the form of a strong drive and emotional life. At times it felt like a fire no one could put out. At least she herself couldn’t. She would get vague, seemingly forbidden thoughts about men. No one had ever talked to Belinda about the mysteries of love, other than while giggling and chanting ballads that she didn’t understand anyway. Once she had asked her mother how Signe’s child was going to get out and how it had got there, but her mother had merely boxed her ears soundly.

But something had happened a few days ago. She had heard the cook say to the servant girl, “Have you noticed how shapely Belinda has grown? She is a real seductress! Did you notice that man who was here the other day with the fancy shoes – how his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets?”

The servant girl had laughed and said something about Belinda being easy prey for any man.

Belinda hadn’t been able to keep up with their words, hadn’t understood what they meant. But she had gone upstairs and looked at her reflection in the little bathroom mirror. It wasn’t an easy task, but if she stood on a chair she was able to see one portion at a time. And even she could see that the girls were right. Her waist was rather narrow, but she was exceptionally voluptuous both above and below it. And – to her great horror – if she looked at her face she could detect that longing that burned within her! She could see it in the red fullness of her lips, in the searching unrest of her sultry look, and she discerned her own impatience in her every move.

All at once she thought of something Signe had said. Something incomprehensible, just like so many other things. Well, no, not incomprehensible! She had felt that tingling feeling once again. “When a man touches you, Belinda, you turn into wax in his hands. All you want is to envelop him ... oh no, but you would not understand any of that yet.”

Yes, Belinda had a hunch. Signe had spoken about Herbert and ...

Now she cast a fearful glance at Herbert. No, she couldn’t imagine that situation with him! Only in connection with Signe.

Her own dream of a man who could extinguish her burning desire was very vague. Strangely enough, he always came riding towards her – she didn’t understand why. The next moment he would be standing in her chamber, whereupon the reverie would dissolve into confusion because she couldn’t figure out what was supposed to happen then.

No, she had to think of the present now!

What was it they were talking about?

Her parents called him “Mr Abrahamsen” and not “Herbert”, despite the fact that he had been their son-in-law. He hadn’t expressed any interest in being on more intimate terms with them.

“Well, that’s settled then,” said her mother. “Belinda will come and live with you and take care of your daughter. I think she can manage that.”

“Oh, yes,” Belinda cried out in enthusiasm. “I’d really like to do that, thank you!”

Her father continued as though no one had heard her. “And when the year of mourning is over we can discuss the wedding. It will be an impressive wedding again, because we don’t spare any expense, as you know, Mr Abrahamsen.”

Once again, things looked grim for Belinda. “No, I won’t do that. I am willing to look after Signe’s little girl but I’m not interested in a wedding.”

“Belinda!” said her mother. “Now, look what you’re doing, spilling sugar all over the table,” she whispered angrily. “Oh, good God, now the sugar bowl has fallen on the floor! Must you always be so startled by the slightest thing?”

She took her innocent daughter by the ear and led her out of the room. Outside she shook Belinda back and forth so hard the girl thought her ear might fall off.

“Just what do you think you’re doing? Do you think gentlemen are standing in line to propose to you? We were worried that we’d be stuck with you as an old maid!”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” Belinda lamented humbly. “You thought it was perfectly fine to have someone living in the house who could care for you in your old age.”

“That was something with which we consoled ourselves,” her mother hissed as she shook her again. “And then you receive this exceptional proposal from such a man! Which any other girl would be overjoyed to receive! Don’t you understand how lucky you are? You should be thankful that there is anyone at all who wants you. Now you’re going back in there with me and this time you’re going to behave yourself!”

Her mother let go of her ear and was shocked to see how bloody her fingers were.

When Belinda went back in, humbled, Herbert Abrahamsen signalled for her to come over to him. He said in a gentle voice, “Your father and I have been discussing it a little and we have agreed not to say any more about the marriage until you have lived at Elistrand for a little while and seen whether you like living there with me. You are also very young. But I know how much you meant to my beloved Signe and I think she would have wished for you to care for little Lovise.”

“I think so, too,” Belinda said eagerly. “And I’ll be sure to do my very best! You won’t be able to tell the difference between Signe and me: everything will be exactly as it was when she was alive!”

The others concealed pitying smiles.

Herbert seemed relieved, Belinda thought. She wasn’t sure why but she thought that perhaps it had to do with the fact that he wouldn’t have to marry her right away? That was how she felt, anyway. So why had he asked for her hand?

No, it was simply beyond her.

Then he stood up.

Her parents couldn’t help bringing their little saint, Signe, into the conversation. “Oh, why wasn’t it Signe we were allowed to keep? It’s so unfair!” they lamented as they looked towards the heavens that had robbed them of their daughter. That they were hurting Belinda in doing so was most likely not something they considered. Or perhaps they were used to her always agreeing with them on that score.

When the parents were alone in their bedroom, the mother loosened her corset, causing her liberated lungs and other organs to emit a hollow ring.

“She’ll probably give in once she has lived with him for a while. What a handsome man! And so wealthy!”

“Hmm,” the father said, letting his pantaloons fall to the floor, which made the tails of his shirt flutter. “We had better prepare for the wedding: there are only three months left until the year of mourning is over. The girl doesn’t know what’s good for her.”

“No, but it will all work out once she’s there. And it’s all very proper because our beloved Herbert’s mother, Tilda, lives in the house as well,” said the mother, as she took out some hairpins.

“I don’t understand it. Belinda has always been so compliant! It’s not like her at all. I feel so ashamed.”

“No, she’s starting to get difficult. But we’ll straighten her out.”

The mother sat on the edge of the bed. “Our beloved Signe would never have behaved like that. She was so grateful for her husband.”

“Well,” the father grunted. “She complained about his mother ...”

“She most certainly did not!” the mother cried. “Signe’s marriage was perfect!”

In her room, Belinda was kneeling by her bed with clasped hands.

“Dear St George,” she prayed. She thought herself too unworthy to pray directly to God or Jesus, but had found a guardian angel in St George because he looked so handsome in a picture she had once seen. For this past year he had had, in Belinda’s imagination, a horse, dark hair and a short cloak. “Dear St George, thank you for not making me marry Herbert Abrahamsen! He is Signe’s, and she would probably be angry with me if I did. Greet her from me and tell her that I won’t do it: that will make her happy. I simply cannot marry him, St George, not just because of Signe, but he’s already been used! Also, Signe was my own sister and ... no, where was I? Oh, yes, please help me to care for Signe’s child properly. I have only seen little Lovise once, at the christening, but she was very sweet. I won’t drop her, I promise. And I promise to be just like Signe, so please help me to do that! And dearest St George, thank you for letting me go to Graastensholm Parish again, it’s so beautiful. Say hello to God for me and thank him.”

Then she climbed into bed and blew out the light, satisfied with the day in spite of everything.