The House by the Fjord (10 page)

‘Your damn train wasn't here at ten o'clock!' Rolf roared. ‘It was still halfway up the line from Oslo! I'm having those sleepers no matter how much the occupants tipped you to let them in there!'

He charged off along the row of doors until he came to number thirty-two, where he banged a furious fist on the door. The attendant had come rushing after him, shouting at him to stop, but as Rolf hammered on the door again, it slid open from inside and a sleepy young man on the lower bunk raised himself on an elbow.

‘Yes?' he mumbled. ‘What is it?' Then before Rolf could answer the young man's eyes opened wide as he recognized the intruder. ‘Rolf Hansen! I thought you were dead! Shot down over Germany!'

Rolf laughed, equally astonished by this unexpected meeting with a former comrade-in-arms. ‘So I was, Nils, but although they shipped me back to England and patched me up, I wasn't able to return to 332 Squadon before the liberation came.'

By now the other young man on the top bunk had stirred to see what was happening and was introduced as Nils's brother, Kurt.

‘Great to meet you, Rolf,' he said sleepily, extending a handshake, ‘but did it have to be in the middle of the night?'

‘Yes, it did,' Rolf replied, ‘because I want your bunks for my wife and her friend and my little daughter.' Briefly he explained the situation and before he had finished both brothers slid from their bunks in their pants and vests and began to dress. They were soon ready, their ties loose around their necks to be adjusted later. Both of them attempted to straighten the bedclothes, but Pat stopped them.

‘Don't bother to do that! Anna and I will do it. If I stand here another minute after all I've been through tonight, I'll collapse on the floor.'

They emerged hastily with rucksacks. The attendant had disappeared, not wanting to return the generous tip he had received from them earlier. Brief introductions took place and then Pat, Anna and Mandy were finally able to get to bed.

Six

When Anna awoke, the small compartment was filled with a greyish light filtering through the window blind. Pat and Mandy were still asleep on the bunk below. Propping herself up on her elbow, she reached out and held back the edge of the blind to look out. There they were! The great mountains of the west coast soaring up in all their splendour, fierce and beautiful and snow-clad, all a-glitter with frozen waterfalls, and on a level with the train was a wide, wildly rushing river adding its own beauty to the scene.

Now Molly and Mandy were awake. The three of them took turns with the facilities and were ready when Rolf arrived to take them along to the restaurant car for breakfast.

By chance, their table was on the opposite side of the aisle to where Kurt and Nils were seated, and at first the conversation between the men continued across the aisle as if had not been interrupted the previous night. They exchanged news of comrades and also discussed events that had taken place in the post-occupation period.

Anna had not taken any part in the general conversation, just listening with interest, but suddenly Nils turned his gaze on her, his eyes merry in his cheerful face. ‘I heard Pat say earlier that you'll be spending Christmas in Molde. That's not far from our family farm where Kurt and I will be. Let's all meet up some time in the festive season.'

‘That's a great idea,' Pat endorsed. Then to Anna she added, ‘We can always pick you up in Rolf's ancient Ford.'

‘Ancient?' Rolf echoed. ‘It's only about ten years since I bought it.'

‘Yet the Germans never took it,' Pat teased, her eyes dancing at him over the rim of her coffee cup. ‘They commandeered all the best cars.'

‘They also took all the best horses from the farms to pull their gun-carriages and wagons,' Nils intervened soberly. ‘That was hardest of all for my father. It was a family joke that he cared more for them than for the rest of us.'

‘Did he ever get them back?' Anna asked with concern. So far she had only seen a few of the
fjordings
, the unique Westland ponies that were the sturdiest of workers, patient and intelligent, all of them a distinctive cream colour with a black streak through the mane and down the tail. They were also the breed that the Vikings had ridden, and that fact appealed to her sense of history.

Nils was shaking his head. ‘He is still looking. The Nazis just abandoned them at the docks when being shipped home. Some farmers did find their own.'

The conversation then turned back to arranging a get-together, but Anna had to refuse, explaining that she no idea yet what her father-in-law would have planned for her. Uppermost in her mind was the house in the mountains that awaited her inspection. She pictured it dark and gloomy, smelling of damp and cobwebs, perhaps overrun by mice after being neglected for so many years. In a way, she was dreading that viewing, especially since she knew what a disappointment it would be to her father-in-law when she almost certainly would refuse to accept it. As she reminded herself yet again, he had lost enough in losing Johan. She had no wish to add to his sorrow, but she could not commit herself to an impossible obligation.

When the train pulled into Andalsnes station, the steam billowed over the platform, making ghostlike all who were milling about there. Rolf's brother had come to meet him and his family, and Anna looked around to see who was meeting her. Suddenly a tall figure appeared before her. It was Alex Ringstad and he grinned at her surprise. She warmed to the friendliness in his eyes again.

‘Welcome, Anna,' he said, picking up her suitcase. ‘I volunteered to meet you.'

‘That was good of you, but have you been waiting here long?' she asked with concern. ‘This train is hours late.'

‘I telephoned a couple of times before I set out, because I had not expected it to be exactly on time, and so I was prepared to wait a while.'

She guessed that, in spite of what he had said, the waiting had been long, but she was making swift introductions to Pat and Rolf and, as always in Norwegian company, there was a great deal of handshaking. Christmas greetings were exchanged as they went their separate ways.

‘
God Jul!
'

‘Happy Christmas!'

When Anna was in Alex's car, she asked after her father-in-law. ‘How is he?'

‘I suppose he is as well as can be expected,' Alex replied as he drove out of the station yard. ‘Winter is never a good time of the year for him when the roads and pavements are icy. He has to be careful not to fall. He has never fully recovered from the ordeal he suffered at the hands of the Nazis.'

‘Why? What happened?' Immediately she was concerned.

‘Has Gudrun, his housekeeper, never written about it to you?'

‘No. Should she have done?'

He inclined his head, his gaze on the snow-bordered road gleaming in the headlights. ‘I just thought she might have prepared you for his frailty. An incident took place in 1943 on June 7th, King Haakon's birthday. Steffan was forty-six then and in his garden he picked a carnation – the national flower of Norway – and put it in his buttonhole before going into town. Other Norwegians would have recognized the flower's significance as a symbol of unity against the invader, but unfortunately a Nazi officer did too and snatched the flower away before striking him to the ground. Then he was hauled to his feet and made to run round and round the market square until he collapsed from exhaustion. He would have been left there if local people had not lifted him up and taken him home. It was then that he suffered a stroke, which affected his walking.'

‘Why didn't you tell me this when you came to Gardermoen, on the day you showed me different parts of the forest?'

‘Steffan Vartdal is a very fierce, proud man, who likes to ignore his disability, even though now he always has to support himself with a cane. I had to be sure that he wanted me to prepare you in advance and it was only recently he let me know that he did.'

‘It sounds to me as if he trusts you implicitly.'

‘I believe he does, but he has a nephew, Harry Holmsen, who is his late sister's son. Since Johan's death, Harry has done his best to fill the great gap in Steffan's life, but now you, his daughter-in-law, have the chance to take the place of his nephew and – more importantly – his much loved son.'

She shivered. ‘That is an impossible task and too much to ask of me. I'm not here to stay.'

‘You may have no choice.'

She did not reply, unable to foresee any circumstances that could persuade her against her will to make her residence permanent. ‘I always have a choice,' she replied firmly.' Nobody can take that away from me.'

As they drove along, she was surprised how little snow there was on the lower slopes in comparison to all the heavy falls and freezing temperatures she had left behind in eastern Norway. She questioned Alex about it.

‘That is because we have the Gulf Stream all the way up the west coast,' he replied. ‘It helps keep our climate mild here in comparison with the eastern part of the country, and it ensures our harbours are ice-free. That's one of the reasons the Germans invaded – they could keep their U-boats in these waters ready to attack Allied ships in the Atlantic.'

‘Another was that they wanted the heavy water for their atom bomb,' she replied. ‘I read all about that small band of the Norwegian resistance destroying the German chances of getting the atom bomb before the Americans, which they would have done otherwise.'

‘Yes, it was a wonderful achievement that will go down in history.'

She thought to herself that in time Hollywood would probably make a movie about those courageous young Telemark heroes, but it was too frivolous a comment to make when remembering the extraordinary bravery that had literally saved the free world.

‘Is the district of Telemark far from here?' she asked with interest.

Alex glanced at her. ‘It's not too far if you would like to see where it all happened. I'd take you there.'

She thought how quick he was in his offers of assistance and she made her usual excuse. ‘I can't make any plans yet.'

The drive took them out of town and then the road followed the still, grey waters of the fjord westwards all the way, the mountains soaring high on either side of it. She had no wish to talk, fascinated by all she was seeing, and he respected her silence.

Then, at last, they drove into the little town of Molde, which was clustered on the lower slopes overlooking the fjord. She could see that some of the houses on the outskirts had escaped the bombing, but the heart of the town still had the simple wooden buildings that Alex explained had been erected in the aftermath of the air raid to keep trade and businesses going in place of the shops and offices that had been burnt to the ground.

‘The church here was lost too,' Alex said, ‘and so throughout the occupation people used the mediaeval one in the local open-air museum. On the day of liberation, its bell was rung so hard in jubilation that it cracked!'

She smiled. ‘It was a great day to celebrate.'

‘Molde used to be known as the Town of Roses,' Alex continued as they drove along the main street. ‘It had a red rose that was unique to this town and had such a delicate and yet so powerful a scent that it could be inhaled by those on-board ships coming up the fjord. The bombing and the resulting fire destroyed every rose bush in the streets and private gardens. I'm sorry to say that the Molde rose has been lost forever.'

Anna was silent for a few moments. ‘That is very sad,' she said quietly. ‘To lose such a rose. I would have loved to see it in bloom.'

‘They were a fine sight. I only saw them once. That was when I was on a cycling trip during my university days.'

By now they had reached the far side of the town, and Alex turned the car through a pair of open gates and up a drive to come to a halt outside a large and very fine white house with an elegant porch and windows on three floors. It was just far enough out of the town to have escaped the fire, although Alex told her that it had almost reached the Vartdal house.

‘So here we are,' he said, switching off the ignition and turning in his seat to look at her with an encouraging grin. ‘Don't worry. You will be welcome in spite of your fears.'

‘Oh, do I look nervous?' she asked anxiously.

‘No, but I'm getting to know you well enough to guess your feelings at this moment. Incidentally, I'm giving a party on New Year's Eve and I'd be very glad if you would come. Your father-in-law already knows and approves that I'm inviting you. I believe I was just in time as I was told that quite a few invitations are awaiting your arrival.'

She smiled. ‘In that case, I accept your invitation. It will be wonderful to celebrate New Year's Eve here in Norway.' Then she drew in a deep breath and nodded towards the house. ‘Now the time has come.'

He took her suitcases out of the car as she went up the steps of the porch. She reached out and pressed the bell firmly.

Seven

They must have been sighted from a window, for the front door opened immediately, golden light flowing out to them. In the entrance stood a slim, grey-haired woman in her sixties, neatly attired in a green woollen dress, and she greeted Anna with a delighted smile.

‘Welcome, Anna,' she said in English. ‘I'm Gudrun Eriksen, your father-in-law's housekeeper over many years. Please come in. We have been looking forward so much to your arrival. Alex telephoned us to say you had been delayed.'

‘For a while it seemed as if we would never get here,' Anna replied, appreciating the housekeeper's welcome as she and Alex entered the warmth of the wide hallway, where a number of modern paintings adorned the walls and there was the sweep of a grand staircase. She saw Steffan Vartdal immediately. He was silhouetted against a glass door at the end of the hall, a tall figure with his right hand resting on a cane. Gudrun stepped aside for her as she went forward to where he stood, since he made no move to come towards her. Although he was approaching fifty, he was still a handsome man with hawklike features, his hair thick and white, and his eyes were the same deep blue as his son had possessed.