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Authors: Rosalind Laker

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BOOK: The House by the Fjord
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Before the wedding, Steffan had agreed to Anna's request that when she had reached the last page of the journal, then Alex should read it too. Already Alex was keenly interested in all Anna had to tell him about Ingrid. One morning on their honeymoon they tried to find the place where Magnus had been sitting at his easel when Ingrid had burst into his life, but there were so many great rocks and so many possible places that they just made a guess at one.
Anna had moved her belongings into Alex's apartment the day before the wedding and, after they returned from their honeymoon, she went to see Steffan and Gudrun while Alex caught up with work in his office. They welcomed her back and naturally their conversation soon turned to Ingrid's house. Steffan had some furniture of the period under covers in his
stabbur
and whatever was stored in Ingrid's cellar could be brought up and repaired if necessary. During Anna's absence, Gudrun had taken two women to scrub and wash and clean every inch of the house. She had also put some crockery and cutlery into cupboards and drawers, as well as hanging three saucepans and a frying pan on pegs in the kitchen.
‘I hope that I have not overdone getting basic things ready for you,' she said uncertainly, not sure whether Anna would consider what she had done as interference.
‘Of course not,' Anna assured her, relieved to know the hard work of cleaning the house had been done. ‘I'm most grateful. I had realized that there would be a great deal of work ahead of me to make Ingrid's house into a home again.' She had been surprised and pleased to be told that the fund available for restoring the house had originated with Ingrid, who had left a sum for the continued care of it, and would more than cover whatever needed to be done.
Anna was getting near the end of Ingrid's journal. As her family had increased, the entries in it had become spaced out, mostly recording matters concerned with the children such as first steps, first teeth, illnesses and school successes. Magnus had become renowned both in his own country and abroad. Ingrid never accompanied him when his presence was wanted elsewhere, partly because she would not leave the children in the care of others and there were too many now to hand them over to Marie, who had an increasing family of her own. Yet the main reason why Ingrid would not leave home was that she could not endure the thought of being anywhere other than her beloved haven.
She wrote with pleasure that Magnus had bought a sailing boat large enough to take the children and some of their friends.
Sometimes we fish from it
, she wrote,
Young Anders is the true fisherman. Whenever he puts his line down the fish seem to be jostling one another to take his bait. ‘Another one, Mama!' he will shout. Often we sail to a little island in the middle of the fjord where I set out a picnic and the children all love it
.
Then Ingrid reverted to her description of the little island:
The grassy mound there is said locally to be the site of a Viking king's burial, although it has never been excavated. Strangely, I did find an ancient gold ring in the grass one day and a jeweller friend confirmed it was very old and probably dated from that time. I gave it to Magnus and he would wear it sometimes, but he never cared much for it. He likes best the one inset with a diamond, which I gave him on our first wedding anniversary, and it has never has left his finger. I often wear the diamond and ruby brooch that he gave me at the same time. We had made love all night as if we were only just wed
.
Ingrid then went on to write about Magnus's departures. ‘Be faithful to me!' she admonished him every time. ‘Because if you are not, I shall know and kill you when you return.'
He had always laughed. ‘I would not dare to disobey the only woman in the world for me!'
Meawhile, Liv was gainfully employed as a dressmaker' assistant in Molde and she wrote to Ingrid to update her on her new life.
It is work she enjoys, having always loved new clothes, and she made some of her own garments when she was still quite young. Thankfully, she has done nothing so far to upset the friend of mine with whom she is living. She has to obey the very strict rules that I laid down, for I am aware how foolish and flighty she can be. Although I love her, as I have loved all my children, perhaps my particular indulgence towards her has stemmed – although I should not even think it – from never quite liking her. It was a jubilant letter that Liv had written this time, all because a little while ago she had met Martin Vartdal, son of the late shipping magnate, who built that grand mansion just outside Molde not long before he died. Martin is now head of the company, owning a large mercantile fleet that sails all over the world. I cannot begin to estimate how rich he might be. Liv brought Martin home to meet me and I could see he was besotted with her. He is a fine-looking young man, very charming and with the kind of superb manners that I always tried to instil – not very successfully – into my boys. It will suit Liv very well to marry into money, for she has always spent on fripperies and from an early age was forever prancing about in front of mirrors and admiring herself
.
‘I just want to look pretty,' she had said. ‘It is all very well for you to criticize others, because you have always been beautiful and never had any need to make yourself look better.'
I saw that she meant what she said – I can read her like a book and can always tell if she is being false
.
Ingrid was outraged when Liv became discontented with her comfortable life and, more alarmingly, with her husband. Ingrid recorded a meeting with her daughter when the matter was discussed.
‘
Martin is so dull,' Liv grumbled to me on one of her rare visits home. ‘There's no fun in him. All he thinks about is work, work, and more work.'
I gave a sigh and paused in beating a cake mixture. I still have a baking day, as I always like to have a selection of cakes and biscuits to serve with coffee when people call in, which happens frequently. I always serve it in the traditional way, with a best cloth on the table and a lighted candle of welcome whatever the time of day
.
‘I know what ails you,' I said. ‘Now that you can have anything you want in the way of jewellery and finery, you have become bored. I've always known that under your silly ways you have a brain as bright as a button. Now is the time to use it. You have said that you like going to the company's offices to see where the vessels are plotted on the map and what cargo they are carrying and so forth. You told me also of your idea that one of the company's vessels should be togged up to take foreigners on cruises up the fjords, just as the German Kaiser does every summer with guests on his yacht.'
‘Yes!' Liv snorted indignantly. ‘And what happened to my good idea? Martin was not interested.'
‘
That is because he lacks the drive and ambition that made his father a rich man. Make him listen. Get yourself a seat in the boardroom. You may face difficulties getting there, but you always have managed to get whatever you have wanted in one way or another.'
Liv had been watching me and listening attentively. ‘Yes, I have,' she agreed reflectively. ‘You are a wise woman, Mama.'
‘Yes, I am,' I agreed. ‘Now you go home and – for once in your life – do as I have told you.'
It took six months, but by that time Liv was fully established in the company. Although her idea of a cruise ship has never been taken up she has become influential in other ways, particularly in the welfare of the crews and their families
.
A later entry described a much happier meeting.
Liv and Martin came to visit and she told me she was expecting her first child. She wanted me to be with her when the baby was born. So when the time came, I held her hand and rubbed her back. Then finally her son arrived with some difficulty, but he is healthy and strong and has been baptized with the name of Steffan . . 
.
Anna closed the journal with a smile. So Liv was Steffan's mother.
She asked him about Liv the next time she was at his house and they were on their own. ‘Did she have time for you when she was so deeply involved in company business?'
‘I did not see much of her when I was young, except that we always had family meals together. My father was the greatest influence in my life, teaching me to ski and climb and generally encouraging me in all sports. He was a splendid tennis player himself, a sport not much played in Norway at that time, and so he often went abroad to take part in contests.' He paused. ‘It was through those trips abroad that my mother almost lost him to another woman. I don't think adults realize how quickly a child senses trouble – the charged atmosphere, the angry looks exchanged, the door quickly closed to keep an argument from being overheard.' He shrugged. ‘It was all there in my childhood.'
‘But their marriage held together?'
‘Yes. It was probably because my mother never wanted to lose anything that was hers and so, to her, divorce was out of the question. They settled down again after a while when I was about fourteen and I think my grandmother had a lot to do with it. I heard her say once that one affair was not worth breaking up a marriage. We know from Ingrid's journal that she herself had had her moments of anxiety when my handsome grandfather was being fêted far away from her.'
‘But, in their case, love prevailed.'
Steffan gave a smiling nod. ‘It did indeed.'
When Anna returned to the journal she saw that Ingrid's next entry was some time later and recorded a momentous day for the country in 1904, for which Magnus had had a flagpole erected by the house, as had most other people in the valley, and the national flag flew everywhere throughout the land.
This week has seen a great day for Norway. After we had thrown off Swedish rule nearly a hundred years ago
,
we have had our own Norwegian government, but no figurehead. So a young Danish Prince, named Haakon, and his wife, Maud, who is an English princess, were recently invited to be our King and Queen and they accepted. They stepped ashore a few days ago, our new King holding high his young son in his arms, and he announced in a strong voice, ‘All for Norway!' In those three words he dedicated his life and his service to his new country. I think we shall be pleased with him . . 
.
Anna, reading this paragraph, smiled. Ingrid's foresight had been correct. He had become the bedrock of the resistance, a courageous man who had defied the Germans from the first day with his defiant ‘No!' to their demand for surrender.
Ingrid continued to record her doubts about Magnus in her journal, only too aware that his looks had matured handsomely and how attractive he would still be to women. But he was also still her ardent lover, and she knew in her heart that no matter what happened he would always come back to her. Then the terrible day came when he was brought home to her in a pine casket. It had been a traffic accident in Bergen. His carriage had collided with another and he had been thrown into the street, hitting his head against a post. At the sight of the casket, Ingrid had uttered a terrible cry as if her heart had burst. Then, for the sake of the children, she regained control of herself and went about all she had to do while consoling them as best she could.
At the funeral, even though local people had become used to her often eccentric ways, she made everyone stare by not being in deep mourning black with a veil to cover her stricken face as when she had lost her first-born, Magnus-Haakon. Instead, she startled them all by wearing one of her most vividly hued gowns and had trimmed her bright yellow hat with real flowers. Her daughters in party dresses also had blossoms on their hats and her sons had their own choice of flowers in their buttonholes.
‘We are dressing up for Papa,' she had said to them. ‘Black was a colour he never liked, not even on his palette, and so we must be as colourful as we can.'
After the service he was buried in the little churchyard next to Magnus-Haakon. It was exactly thirty-two years since she had married him in that same church. She did not shed a tear, remaining calm and dignified, and afterwards poured the coffee herself for all the many mourners who gathered in the village hall for the
smorrebrod
and cakes that had been prepared. Yet that night, in the everlasting summer daylight, she went alone up into the mountains where no one could hear her and howled her grief from where she had flung herself down on the grass under a tree.
She thought often afterwards that Magnus had gone from her at a time when she had never needed his support more. It was not just to comfort Sonja, who would hammer her fists on the studio door, unable to believe that her father was not going to reappear. The crisis had arisen because the twins, Christofer and Erik, had finished their education at eighteen and were restless, reluctant to take up training for the future. They had heard travellers' tales about how wonderful it was in America and how fortunes could be made overnight there. Ingrid shook her head wearily at this renewed wave of enthusiasm for emigrating that was sweeping the land. Both of the boys had shown every sign that they would do well here in their own country, but a sense of adventure was high in them. Ingrid was baffled as to why it should seem so marvellous to them. Yet she could not forbid them their dream. They were grown men, even though they were still children in her eyes and always would be.
‘I wish I could come with you,' Kurt said enviously to them. He had always trailed along with the twins in their adventures and he felt bereft now that they were going away. How could fishing and sailing and climbing and skiing be fun anymore without his two older brothers, even though they would not take him with them whenever they went out to meet girls?
BOOK: The House by the Fjord
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