The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (15 page)

Then I remembered that I still needed to look for the book that Pa Salt had wanted me to read. Standing up and scanning the titles of the ‘H’ section in the bookshelves, I found it
within a few seconds and pulled it off the shelf.

Grieg, Solveig og Jeg

En biografi av Anna og Jens Halvorsen

Jens Halvorsen

Not understanding any more than that this was some form of biography, I took it back to the desk and sat down.

The book was obviously old, the pages inside it yellowing and frail. I saw the date of publication was 1907 – exactly one hundred years ago. Being a musician, I immediately knew to what Mr
Halvorsen was almost certainly referring. Solveig was the sad heroine in Ibsen’s poem and featured in the world-famous music written to accompany the stage play by the composer Edvard Grieg.
Turning a further page, I saw there was also a foreword in which I recognised the words ‘Grieg’ and ‘Peer Gynt’. But sadly, that was all I could read, as the rest of the
words were in what I presumed was Norwegian – the native language of both Grieg and Ibsen – and therefore indecipherable.

With a sigh of disappointment, I leafed through the pages and found some black-and-white plates depicting a tiny woman in theatrical costume, dressed as a country peasant. Below the plate, it
read, ‘
Anna Landvik som Solveig
,
September 1876
’. I studied the photographs intently, and realised that whoever Anna Landvik was, she’d been very young when the
photograph had been taken. Underneath the heavy stage make-up, the girl looked barely older than a child. I leafed through the other plates and saw her as she grew older, and then did a double take
as I stared at the familiar features of Edvard Grieg himself. Anna Landvik was standing by a grand piano and Grieg was behind it, applauding her.

There were other plates too, of a handsome young man – the biographer of the book – sitting formally in a photograph next to Anna Landvik, who was holding a young child in her arms.
Frustrated by the fact that the book could reveal little more to me due to the language barrier, I felt my curiosity pique. I needed to get it translated, and thought that Maia, being a translator
herself, would probably know of someone who could help.

Given my musicality, the thought that my ancestors might have had a connection with one of the great composers – and one who was a particular favourite of mine and Pa’s – was
deeply moving. Was this why he had loved the
Peer Gynt
Suite so much? Maybe he’d played it to me because he knew of my connection to it.

Once again, I mourned his passing and the questions that would always remain unanswered.

‘
Chérie,
are you all right?’

Stirred out of my thoughts, I looked up to see Ma standing in the doorway. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You were reading?’

‘Yes,’ I said, putting a protective hand over the book.

‘Well, lunch is ready on the terrace.’

‘Thank you, Ma.’

Over a goat’s cheese salad and a glass of chilled white wine, I again apologised to Ma for my hysterical outburst earlier.

‘Really, there’s no need,’ comforted Ma. ‘So, we both know about Maia, but you have said very little about yourself. Tell me, how you are, Ally? I feel there is something
good that has happened. You too look different.’

‘Actually . . . the thing is, Ma, I’ve met someone as well.’

‘I thought you had,’ she said with a smile.

‘Which is why I didn’t receive everyone’s voice messages. I was with him when Pa died and I’d switched my phone off,’ I blurted out suddenly, needing to get the
truth off my chest. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I feel so guilty, Ma.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t. Who was to know what would happen?’

‘The truth is,’ I sighed, ‘I feel I’m on an emotional rollercoaster – I don’t think I’ve ever been happier or sadder, all at the same time. It’s
very strange. I feel guilty about being happy.’

‘I doubt very much that your father would want you to feel like that,
chérie
. So, who is this man who has stolen your heart?’

I then told her everything. And even just speaking Theo’s name made me feel better.

‘Is he “the one”, Ally? I’ve certainly never heard you talk of any man like this before.’

‘I think he might be, yes. In fact, he’s . . . well, he’s proposed.’

‘Goodness!’ Ma looked at me in surprise. ‘And have you accepted?’

‘I have, yes, although we won’t get married for ages, I’m sure. But he gave me this.’ I tugged the silver chain from beneath my collar and showed her the evil eye
pendant. ‘I know it’s ridiculously fast, but it just feels so right. For both of us. And you know me, Ma, I’ve never been one to get carried away romantically, so this has all
come as a bit of a shock.’

‘I do know you, Ally, and that’s why I realise that this must be serious.’

‘He reminds me of Pa, as a matter of fact. I wish he could have met Theo,’ I sighed, taking a mouthful of the salad. ‘Changing the subject, do you think Pa genuinely wanted us
all to go and find out where we came from?’

‘I think he wished to provide you with the necessary information, in case you ever wanted to. Of course, it is up to you to decide.’

‘Well, it certainly seems to have helped Maia. While she was finding out about her past, she found her future at the same time.’

‘Yes, she did,’ said Ma.

‘But I think I may have already found mine, without needing to delve into my history. Perhaps I’ll investigate one day, but not now. I just want to try to enjoy the present and see
where it leads.’

‘And so you should. I hope that you’ll bring Theo here soon so that I can meet him.’

‘I will, Ma,’ I said as I smiled at the thought of such an occasion. ‘I promise.’

After several days of Claudia’s home-cooking, regular sleep and the glorious July weather, I felt refreshed and calm. I’d taken the Laser out onto the lake every
afternoon and enjoyed leisurely sailing sessions. And as the sun beat down, I’d lain on the boat letting my feelings for Theo suffuse me. I felt closer both to him and to Pa when I was out on
the water. Slowly, I realised I was coming to terms with losing Pa and beginning to accept it. And although I’d told Marina I wasn’t going to investigate my past for now, I’d
already emailed Maia to ask if she knew a Norwegian translator. She’d said she didn’t, but would make some enquiries. A couple of days later, she had emailed me back with the contact
details for a Magdalena Jensen. I’d called and spoken to Magdalena, and she’d said she would be happy to begin translating the book for me. After taking photocopies of the cover and of
the photographs just in case the book got lost, I’d carefully packaged it up and sent it to her by FedEx.

As I packed my rucksack in readiness to travel over to the Isle of Wight, just off the coast of England, to begin training, a tingle of trepidation ran up my spine at what was to come. The
Fastnet Race was a serious undertaking and Theo would be in command of a hand-picked and highly experienced crew of twenty. I myself had never attempted anything so challenging. I would need to be
on my mettle and prepared to watch and learn. In retrospect, it was a huge honour that Theo had even asked me.

‘Ready to go?’ said Ma as I appeared in the hall with my rucksack and my flute, which Theo had asked me to bring along again. He seemed to genuinely love hearing me play.

‘I am.’

She drew me to her and embraced me, and I felt enveloped in all the comfort and security she represented.

‘You will take care in the race, won’t you,
chérie
?’ she asked as we left the house to walk down to the jetty.

‘Please don’t worry, Ma. I have the best captain there is, I promise. Theo will keep me safe.’

‘Then just make sure you listen to him, won’t you, Ally? I know how strong-minded you can be.’

‘Of course I will,’ I said with a wry smile, thinking how well she knew me.

‘Keep in touch, Ally,’ she called, watching me steer the launch out from the jetty as Christian threw the lines and himself aboard.

‘I will, Ma.’

And as the launch accelerated along the lake, I felt that I was truly sailing towards my future.

‘Hello, Ally.’

I stared at Theo in surprise, while the melting pot of humanity that was London Heathrow airport surged past me. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘And what kind of a question is that? Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me,’ he grumbled playfully, before pulling me into his arms in the centre of the arrivals
channel and kissing me.

‘Of course I’m pleased!’ I giggled as we came up for air, thinking how he always managed to confound my expectations. ‘I thought you were busy on the
Tigress.
Come on,’ I added, disentangling myself from him, ‘we’re causing a human traffic jam here.’

He led me out of the terminal to the taxi rank. ‘Hop in,’ he said as he issued the driver with instructions.

‘Surely we’re not taking a taxi all the way down to the ferry for the Isle of Wight?’ I queried as we set off. ‘It’s miles away.’

‘No, of course we’re not, Ally. But given that once we get there, we’ll be training full on, I thought it might be a nice idea for us to have a night together before I become
“Skipper” again and you’re just “Al”.’ With that, he wrapped me against him. ‘Missed you, sweetheart,’ he whispered.

‘Me too,’ I said, seeing the taxi driver smirking at us in his rear-view mirror.

To my utter surprise and delight, the taxi pulled up in front of Claridge’s hotel, where Theo checked us in to a room. We proceeded to spend a glorious afternoon and evening making up for
lost time. Before I switched off the light that night, I looked at him sleeping beside me, drinking him in. And knew I belonged wherever he was.

‘Right, before we get on the train to Southampton, we have to pay a duty call,’ Theo said as we ate breakfast in bed the next morning.

‘Do we? To whom?’

‘My mother. I’m sure I’ve told you she lives here in London and she’s dying to meet you. So I’m afraid you’ll have to get that perfect backside of yours out
of bed while I take a shower.’

I got up and rifled through my belongings, fretting about the fact that I was – to all intents and purposes – about to meet my future mother-in-law. I didn’t have anything
smarter than the jeans, sweatshirts and trainers I’d packed for the rare evenings when I wasn’t on the boat and dressed from head to toe in Gore-Tex – the weatherproof but deeply
unsexy sister of Lycra.

I walked into the bathroom to hunt through my washbag for my token mascara and lipstick, but realised I must have left them at Atlantis. ‘I don’t even have any make-up with
me,’ I wailed to Theo through the shower door.

‘Ally, I love you unadorned,’ he said as he emerged from the steamy cubicle. ‘You know how I loathe women who wear a lot of make-up. Now, can you hurry up and get into the
shower? We need to leave pronto.’

Forty minutes later, after driving through a maze of streets that Theo told me were in an area of London called Chelsea, the taxi drew up outside a pretty white townhouse. Three marble steps led
to the front door, on either side of which stood stone pots overflowing with sweet-smelling gardenias.