Читать книгу The Ice People 28 - Ice and Fire - Margit Sandemo - Страница 7

Chapter 2

In the big dining room at Graastensholm, Vinga stood by the window and looked across the village. Her blonde hair had now turned white and her eyes weren’t quite as clear as they had once been. Her face had a trace of fatigue and sadness about it.

Heike went over to her. His big mane of hair had also grown white with a streak of steel blue in it. He had a wonderful beard that gave him a patriarchal appearance. He was still strapping and strong; his age was nonetheless apparent though he didn’t give it much thought. It was the year 1848: he was seventy-four and his Vinga was seventy-one.

“Are you standing there looking over to Elistrand again?” he asked gently.

“Yes. I know that we had no choice, but still it pains me to see how aggressive this Abrahamsen is. Look down there by the lake! There is yet another piece of land that’s going to be used for building.”

“Yes,” Heike said. “And there is nothing we can do about it. But you also know that Elistrand has a lot of land that can’t be cultivated, and as long as he keeps to that we’ll have to suffer in silence. But if he starts to encroach on the fields and meadows, then we can protest.”

“They’re bringing in the food now,” a somewhat gruff voice said behind them.

They turned around and sat down at the table. It was just the three of them: Heike, Vinga and their grandson, Viljar, now twenty-eight years old.

Viljar did not resemble the other members of the Ice People. Though he had dark features, like many of those before him, his darkness was different. It stemmed from Solveig and the people of Eldafjord. His black eyebrows and eyelashes emphasized his eyes, and his eyelids were starkly curved and also very dark. And in the midst of all this dark colouring his eyes were light blue, which wasn’t common among the Ice People.

His face was lean, and its distinctive features were emphasized by deep, vertical furrows in his cheeks and high cheekbones. He rarely smiled with his mouth, which was very manly but not particularly attractive due to its hardness. But he was undeniably handsome with his dark curls and erect posture! Still, most people were repulsed by him – his cold silence was simply terrifying.

Vinga dished up the soup – made with asparagus from the garden – and said, “I’ve heard that Mrs Abrahamsen’s sister has arrived at Elistrand to take care of the little girl.”

“I heard that as well,” Heike answered. “That will probably be good for the little one.”

Vinga was concerned. “They say she is a little slow on the uptake. Is it really wise to leave a baby girl in her care?”

“I don’t think she is ‘slow’ as you say. I saw her on the day she arrived. I’d rather call her naive. And there was something warm-hearted about her, I thought. Have you met her, Viljar?”

“I think I may have seen her and her sister a year ago. But it was so dark that evening. But, yes, she had a rather childish look in her eyes.”

“It’s lucky for her that an elderly woman lives in the house as well,” Vinga said. “Because I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I could throw him. They say he slept with the priest’s maid and several others, all while his wife was still living. And he has a way of looking at you, as though he’s assessing you like a brood animal. As though he’s trying to undress you with his eyes.”

No one took offence at Vinga’s frankness. That was the way she was – they had learned to live with it a long time ago.

“Like the time Christer undressed a whole ballroom down to their ankles?” Heike said, smiling.

“Oh, yes, that’s something I would like to have seen!” Vinga said, laughing.

Then she grew serious and gave a deep sigh. “They’re passing away, one after the other. First Erland, then Gunilla and now Tomas. Poor Tula! She’s taking it very badly!”

“Yes,” said Heike. “But she should be grateful that she was able to keep him for as long as she did. When I was in Sweden twelve years ago the signs were already clear.”

“We know it was because of you that he was able to live as long as he did,” Vinga said saucily. “So don’t sit there boasting! I’m just so worried about Tula. Christer and Magdalena asked her to go and live with them but she refused. It’s as though she has completely lost her desire to live. And she was the most vibrant of us all!”

Heike didn’t answer. His light amber eyes stared out into space. No one knew as much about Tula as he did, and he was deeply concerned for her.

Tula went her own way. Her only anchor in this world had been Tomas. What would erupt in Tula’s mind now, no one knew for certain. She was one of the cursed of the Ice People and there had always been a fine balance in her between good and evil ...

Now it was painfully clear to Heike which side she would choose after all those years of self-restraint ...

He stole a glance at Vinga. He himself was healthy and strong, he knew, but what about Vinga, the person he loved most in the world? Losing Elistrand had taken its toll on her: she felt she had betrayed her parents.

If only they didn’t have to hang on to this grey pile – the haunted castle Graastensholm had become! It was old and draughty and cost huge amounts of money in upkeep. It would have been better to live at Elistrand, but they couldn’t leave Graastensholm. Not while something remained hidden in the attic, something the Ice People desperately needed if they were ever to solve the riddle in the hidden valley way up north.

But the time had still not come. Heike didn’t know how many times he had attempted to reach that one corner of the attic. But every time he had been stopped as if by an invisible wall, and the warning had sounded deafening in his ears. It was enough that they had already lost too much in the Valley of the Ice People. And Heike was apparently not the one to take up the fight against Tengel the Evil.

This was something for which he was very grateful. The confrontations he had already had with that creature did not make him wish for more.

He pitied the poor soul who would have to stand face to face with their evil ancestor!

If it was ever going to happen, that is, for no one was certain.

But it was beginning to be urgent that they should discover the unknown phenomenon in the attic. Graastensholm would be unable to withstand the corrosion of time.

It was, of course, also problematic that the “grey people” were occupying the attic.

They wouldn’t leave Graastensholm until Heike was dead and gone.

More and more in recent years Heike regretted ever letting them in. It was true that they were helpful, but they also did more harm than good.

Still, only he and Vinga knew of the grey people’s existence. And Tula, of course, but she wasn’t there. Eskil had never known about them, and they had never mentioned anything to Viljar. He had no idea that the most astonishing and abominable creatures were sneaking around the house and keeping an eye on him, or that they watched over the stables and went about laughing when the master and mistress weren’t at home. They would warn Heike and Vinga of possible dangers and they helped with the chores, so although the servants weren’t aware of it directly, their overall workload was lessened.

But with the years they had grown not only lazier but more careless. Sometimes they would laugh right in Heike’s face. Then he would be overcome with fear about what he had done – how he had liberated them and exposed Graastensholm to their influence.

He knew that he ought to use the money he had received for Elistrand to restore Graastensholm.

But he postponed it time and again. He didn’t feel like patching up that old heap of rubbish, the sixteenth-century house with its hidden burden of deceased and infernal creatures. Hanged thieves and murderers that haunted the house, grotesque creatures of folklore, suicides and demons ...

Viljar said something. He had excused himself from the table.

“I’m going to take a ride.”

“Again?” said Heike, slightly annoyed. He had been brought out of his thoughts into the present much too abruptly and wasn’t yet in possession of his usual, calm tone of voice.

Viljar immediately assumed a disapproving expression. “I’ve done all my chores for the day, haven’t I? Is there more that needs to be done?”

“No, of course not, it would just be nice if you stayed home this evening for once.”

Vinga laughed. “At first we thought you were out courting. But you’ve been going out several nights a week, year after year! No girl would be able to stand a secret love like that for so long. Speaking of which, it’s about time you married, Viljar. Twenty-eight years old! It won’t do!”

“I don’t have time for that.”

“What do you do, in fact?”

“Just ride around,” Viljar answered, getting ready to leave.

“No, you’re staying here for a moment. You’ve been riding around ever since you were old enough to sit on a horse. You must have a reason!”

Viljar stopped, his hand resting on the door handle. He gave them a quizzical look, as though he were trying to decide what he should answer. Then he said brusquely, “Well, the reason isn’t the same as it was when I was younger, that’s for certain.”

“Aha!” Vinga said. “So you have found a girl!”

He gave a strained smile. “No, Grandmother. As I said, I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”

Heike would have liked to ask him to trust them so that they could talk about what needed to be discussed, but his grandson was already out of the door. They heard the outer door slam.

“Goodness, he’s always slamming that door,” Vinga muttered. “One day it’ll fall down like a drawbridge and crush someone.”

They went over to the window. Shortly afterwards they saw Viljar riding out of the courtyard as though the devil himself were at his heels.

Vinga and Heike looked at one another despairingly.

“He doesn’t resemble anyone else in the family,” she said. “He’s so introverted.”

“Yes, he doesn’t seem to be very happy here.”

“He wouldn’t fare well anywhere or with anyone. If only I could understand what is going on in that mind of his.”

Heike once again looked at his wife with concern. He felt a pang of fear within himself. She had grown so thin. Pallid and emaciated. He hadn’t noticed it until yesterday, but it must have been happening gradually.

He would have to examine her and see if he could cure her. But Vinga would never go along with that. And she would see through him right away if he tried to conceal his intention behind terms like “a routine examination” because “they were, after all, getting on in years”.

He would have to do something quickly! He couldn’t afford to lose Vinga. Now he fully understood Tula’s fear and grief. He was like her. Anchored to this world solely through another beloved person.

His sense of fear made him shudder.

Belinda arrived at Elistrand with the best intentions. If I just try to remember what Signe would have done in every situation, then everything will be all right, she thought to herself consolingly.

She had been given a new dress by her mother and father, and her own trunk, and they had been so sweet to her.

Everyone is so sweet, she thought. If they get angry with me every so often then it’s my own fault.

Imagine that they had shown such confidence in her! That they considered her worthy of taking care of Signe’s little girl! She almost didn’t dare to believe in her own happiness. And she would have to prove that she was worthy of the confidence they had shown her. She would do anything, anything.

On the day of her arrival at Elistrand, an elderly woman was standing behind the curtains of one of the windows on the second floor. She observed the girl critically. Despite Belinda’s attempt to descend from the carriage graciously and with as much dignity as possible, her skirt managed to get caught on the armrest and she fell on her face. Her hatbox and travelling bag, which she had dropped, lay scattered on the ground. The skirt had, of course, ridden up, revealing a pair of freshly ironed pantalettes.

The lady behind the curtain smiled with contempt, without considering that the girl, apart from being humiliated, might actually have hurt herself.

“What a pathetic fool,” she whispered. “I was right, she won’t pose any problems for us.”

She had seen Belinda before and believed she knew everything about this simpleton. Back then she had thought: why didn’t Herbert marry this girl instead of Signe?

She had loathed Signe. She could still feel her chest constrict at the thought of that insolent girl who had tried to take Herbert away from her. It had actually reached the point where Herbert had sided with Signe a few times. Against his own mother! After that Tilda Abrahamsen had completely frozen out her daughter-in-law. And when the wretched tart had died after giving birth to a daughter, she had felt nothing but relief.

But it was hard to take care of a child and it was, after all, only a girl. Furthermore, the nurse had stopped working for them. She had stopped in the middle of a weekday afternoon, after coming out of the nursery with her clothes disarranged and with flushed cheeks. Tilda could have sworn she had heard a scream and the sound of someone getting their ears boxed a few seconds earlier. And then Herbert came out of the room in a fury, talking about useless servants who didn’t tend to his child properly and saying that he would have to let her go.

Of course, he had done the right thing, but it meant that the responsibility for the child now fell on Tilda. And that didn’t suit her in the least! And anyway, what Herbert needed was a son. He was the one who had suggested Signe’s sister, Belinda. A good choice. She wouldn’t give them any problems. Belinda would never dare contradict anyone. And Herbert wouldn’t lose his mind over her in a way that would make him forget who was the actual mistress of the house! Or how much he loved and admired his dear mother.

Tilda straightened her collar and went down to greet the new maid. Not for one moment did she consider Belinda to be a possible future lady of the house at Elistrand and thus a threat – even if Herbert married her fifteen times over.

Belinda stepped into the hall on the verge of tears. Her palms and elbows burned from the fall, but it was the sense of shame that bothered her most. Despairingly, she brushed down her fine new dress.

“I can’t do anything properly,” she laughed shyly to the stiff figures standing in the hall. At first, they looked blurry, but once she had dried her tears her eyes met Mrs Tilda’s glance from above.

Belinda put down her bags and held out her red, well-scrubbed hand. “Good day. I am the new nanny.”

The hand that was placed in hers was very limp and was quickly removed from her clasp.

“We’ve already met,” said Tilda curtly. “I am Herbert’s mother.”

“Yes, of course,” Belinda murmured. “I don’t know why I struggle so much keeping track of names and faces.”

The last time she had visited Signe at Elistrand the lady hadn’t made an appearance. But of course they had met one another at Signe’s wedding!

Oh, Signe! It’s so empty here without you! Being here is so painful!

Poor Mrs Abrahamsen, Belinda thought sympathetically. What a shame that such an impressive looking woman should have such cold eyes. She was probably sad about that herself. Belinda decided to help her as much as she could.

Herbert Abrahamsen was there as well. “Welcome, Belinda,” he said with a gentle smile that went straight to Belinda’s heart. At that very moment the maid came out carrying a ten-month-old girl in her arms. Belinda forgot everyone and everything around her and reached out towards the child. Her eyes shone.

“Lovise! How adorable you are! You look like my brothers and sisters when they were little!”

“Absolutely not!” Tilda cut her short. “Lovise is the living image of her father!”

Belinda was holding the little girl in her arms and smiling at her. Perhaps it was the naive, genuinely loving expression in Belinda’s face that made the child calm down and examine her more closely. At any rate, those two completely forgot their surroundings as they gazed at one another, until Herbert Abrahamsen’s voice brought them back to reality.

He said to the maid, “Show Miss Belinda to her room: the one next to Lovise’s. You would probably like to freshen up before dinner, Belinda. The maid will show you round.”

When they had disappeared upstairs, the mother and son looked at one another.

“Goodness,” Tilda said contemptuously, for she had noticed how her son’s gaze roamed over the girl’s body and she wanted to demonstrate where she believed Belinda’s place to be in the hierarchy.

“She is all right. She’s sure to take good care of the child.”

“But what are you thinking? Do you intend to populate the world with idiots?”

“I don’t have to marry her. She doesn’t know that my original intention in visiting her family was to ask for her hand,” he said, lying out of his great respect for his mother. “Once I realized what a simpleton she is, I merely asked her to come here and care for Lovise, and that is what she is best suited for.”

He had no intention of mentioning the ignominious rejection he had received from the girl!

But the rejection had merely excited him even more. This was a woman who had to be conquered, a wild thing that had to be tamed. It was a rare phenomenon in his narrow world.

Bur Tilda was split between the prospect of getting feeble-minded grandchildren and the satisfaction of having a daughter-in-law whom she could order about.

“Didn’t Signe say something about Belinda having been damaged at birth?” she asked, expectantly. “Wasn’t there something about the mother having had a shock at the sight of a fool whom the midwife had brought along to assist her and that the child was therefore born retarded?”

“What? What are you implying?” Herbert asked irritably.

“The mother held back. She was afraid that the child would be affected by the sight of the assistant, so she tried to keep the child inside her. But whatever gave rise to the injury to Belinda, what the mother tried to do didn’t help. She was born a simpleton, whether it was because of seeing the fool or her mother’s attempt to postpone her birth. At any rate, it’s a birth defect and not hereditary.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Herbert said even more irritably. He didn’t want to discuss it at all. He had no intention of marrying Belinda now. She had turned him down once so she was certainly never going to be his wife, no matter how much she begged and pleaded.

But he wouldn’t mind having a little fun with her. She had a fantastic figure and she was sweet and charming to look at as well. Not exactly like Signe, of course, but Herbert still felt a flaming desire for Belinda.

It wouldn’t do to make furious love to her. She was much too devoted to her deceased sister. How idiotic, really! But he would have to play by Belinda’s rules: “My beloved Signe,” and so on. He would have to go about it very carefully.

Before Herbert Abrahamsen’s first marriage some other events had taken place. He had known Signe’s family for many years, since they had been neighbours in Christiania. Her father, the merchant Lie, was, despite his many children, a solvent man with many good bank connections. And Herbert watched the oldest daughter, Signe, grow up to become a ravishing girl whom he desired more and more as the years went by.

His own father had died some years before, and his mother, to whom he had always been very close, had no one left but him. He had been very satisfied with that arrangement, and it didn’t prevent him from turning into a great seducer of women.

But then several things happened at once. He had accidentally impregnated a girl and had therefore had to disappear from Christiania. Elistrand was up for sale and he wanted to own that farm. He was wealthy, but not wealthy enough to be able to afford the farm. And that was where the merchant Lie could be of help ...

Of course, the merchant wasn’t willing to help him without receiving anything in return, and that was when the deal was made. Herbert got the fair Signe as his wife, the merchant signed a guarantee for the bank loan, and everybody was happy.

That is, Tilda had strained at the leash, but she had fallen for his explanation. He had to have an heir! And in order to get one he would have to take a wife. That was a law of nature they simply couldn’t get around.

But from the malicious look on his mother’s face, Herbert had understood that she intended to put the new lady of the house firmly in her place from the very first day!

But that was perfectly understandable. His mother had always been the one who decided everything in the family, even when his father was alive. Herbert was his mother’s boy in all respects and he didn’t mind that at all. He had slept in her bed right up to the age of twelve. With a shudder he recalled the one time when his father had stood up to his wife. His father had pounded the table with his fist in a rage, and from that day on Herbert had had to sleep in his own room. He still recalled how much it had hurt him. Idiotic Father! And his mother’s silent anger towards her husband: she had maintained a stubborn silence from that day on, but then his father hadn’t lived much longer after that.

Since then, Herbert had been able to be with his beloved mother as much as he wanted to. Of course, he wasn’t going to move back into her room: no, that delicate relationship was something his father had managed to ruin. And it was after his father’s death that Herbert discovered women and what they were made for. He became a lecher, pure and simple.

And he got the sweetest wife of all, Signe Lie.

He hadn’t anticipated that her sister Belinda would grow up to become such a gorgeous woman. She was simply delicious!

Her simple-mindedness was no hindrance. Taking her by storm would be no problem, as dumb as she was.