The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (49 page)

‘Of course they will accept you, Jens. You have your letter from Herr Grieg.’

‘I do and yes, they probably will, but whereas I am a man and able to suffer physical deprivation, you are a young lady with certain . . . needs.’

‘Who was born on a farm and had never seen an inside privy before she arrived in Christiania,’ Anna countered. ‘Really, Jens, I do feel you are doing your best to convince me
not to accompany you.’

‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you when we get there. So’ – he smiled at her suddenly – ‘I have done my best to dissuade you, and you have refused to
accept my concerns. My conscience is clear. We shall leave together at dawn tomorrow. Come here, Anna. Let us hold each other and take strength for the adventure we are about to embark
on.’

He kissed her then, and any worries she’d had about his reticence or her decision melted away. Eventually, their lips parted, and as Anna laid her head against his chest, he stroked her
hair. ‘Of course, there is one more thing we should discuss. We must present ourselves as married to all we meet on our travels, and at Leipzig of course. Overnight, you must become Fru
Halvorsen in the eyes of the world, for no landlord would rent us a room if they knew we were not yet wed. How do you feel about that?’

‘I feel that we must marry as soon as we arrive in Leipzig. I could not countenance any . . .’ Anna’s voice trailed off.

‘Of course we shall. And don’t worry, Anna, even if we must share the same bed, please believe I would always act like a gentleman. So for now’ – Jens left the room then
and returned a minute later with a small velvet box – ‘you must wear this. It was my grandmother’s wedding band. My mother gave it to me when I left, and told me to sell it if I
needed the money. Shall I put it on for you?’

Anna stared at the slim gold band. This was hardly the ‘wedding’ she’d imagined, but she understood it would have to do for now.

‘I love you, Fru Halvorsen,’ he said as he put the ring gently on her finger. ‘And I promise we will do it for real in Leipzig. Now, you must leave and ready yourself for
tomorrow. Can you be here by six o’clock?’

‘Yes, I will be here,’ she replied as she walked towards the front door. ‘As it’s doubtful I shall sleep much tonight anyway.’

‘Anna, do you have any money?’

‘No.’ She bit her lip. ‘And I can hardly ask Herr Bayer for my wages now. It wouldn’t be right. I have let him and others down so dreadfully.’

‘Then we shall be as poor as beggars until we find our feet,’ he said with a shrug.

‘Yes. Goodnight, Jens,’ she said quietly.

‘Goodnight, my love.’

The apartment was silent when Anna arrived home. As she crept along the corridor, she saw Frøken Olsdatter’s anxious face peep out of her room.

‘I was worried, Anna,’ she whispered, coming towards her. ‘Thank the Lord, Herr Bayer retired early tonight, complaining of a fever. Where have you been?’

‘Out,’ Anna replied, turning the handle to enter her room, no longer wishing to explain herself to anyone.

‘Shall we go to the kitchen? I’ll make you some hot milk.’

‘I . . .’ Anna checked herself. This woman had been kind to her and it would be wrong to leave without telling her. ‘Thank you.’ She let herself be led down the corridor
and into the kitchen.

Over the hot milk, Anna told Frøken Olsdatter the whole story. And by the end of it, she was glad she had.

‘Well, well,’ Frøken Olsdatter murmured, ‘what a heartbreaker you are,
kjære.
Gentlemen seem to be falling over themselves to woo you. So, you have
decided to leave immediately and follow your violinist to Leipzig?’

‘I have no choice. Herr Bayer said I must if I was not prepared to give up Jens right away. After what he asked Herr Hennum to do to Jens, I don’t wish to be in Christiania a minute
longer.’

‘Anna, do you not think that Herr Bayer is only trying to protect you? That he has your best interests at heart?’

‘But he doesn’t! It’s what
he
wants, not what
I
want!’

‘And what about your career? Please, Anna, you are so very talented. It is a lot to sacrifice, even for love.’

‘But it is necessary – I cannot stay here in Christiania without Jens,’ insisted Anna. ‘And I can sing anywhere in the world. Herr Grieg said himself that he would help
me if I ever asked.’

‘And he is an influential benefactor,’ Frøken Olsdatter agreed. ‘So, what will you do for money?’

‘Herr Bayer said he would give me the wages I’d earned from the theatre. But I have decided I will ask him for nothing.’

‘That’s very honourable of you. But even those in love must eat and have a roof over their heads.’ Frøken Olsdatter stood up, went to a drawer in the dresser and pulled
out a tin box. Taking a key from the chain around her waist, she opened it. Inside was a bag of coins, which she handed to Anna. ‘There. It is my savings. I have no current use for them and
your need is greater than mine. I cannot see you leave this house to walk into an uncertain future with nothing.’

‘Oh, but I can’t . . .’ Anna entreated.

‘You can and you will,’ Frøken Olsdatter said firmly. ‘And one day when I hear you are singing at the Leipzig Opera House, you can invite me to come and watch you as
payment.’

‘Thank you, you are so very kind.’ Anna was moved beyond measure at the gesture. She reached out and took Frøken Olsdatter’s hand. ‘You must think what I am doing
is wrong.’

‘Who am I to judge? Whether your decision is for the best or not, you are a brave young woman with strong principles. And I admire you for that. Perhaps when you are calmer, you can write
to Herr Bayer.’

‘I am frightened he may be very angry.’

‘No, Anna, he won’t be angry, just extremely sad. You may see him as an old man, but remember, as we get older, our hearts still function in the same way as they always have.
Don’t blame him for falling in love with you and yearning to keep you with him for always. Now, as you must be up with the lark tomorrow, I suggest that you go to bed and take what sleep you
can.’

‘I will.’

‘Please, Anna, write to me from Leipzig and let me know you are safe. Herr Bayer is not the only one in this household who will miss your presence. Just try to remember that you have
youth, talent and beauty. Don’t waste it, will you?’

‘I will do all I can not to. Thank you for everything.’

‘What will you tell your parents?’ Frøken Olsdatter asked suddenly.

‘I don’t know,’ she sighed, ‘I really don’t. Goodbye.’

As the ferry chugged out of the fjord, bound for Hamburg and noisily belching smoke and steam from its funnels, Anna stood alone on the deck, watching her homeland disappear in
the autumnal mist. And wondered if she would ever see it again.

Twenty-four hours later, Anna and Jens finally stepped off the train at Leipzig railway station. The sun had only just risen and as Anna was so tired she could hardly stand,
Jens carried both his case and her valise. Their train from Hamburg to Leipzig had been a sleeper, but neither of them had felt they should spend their money on the comfort of a bunk. They had sat
upright on the hard wooden seats all night, Jens drifting off almost immediately, his head lolling on her shoulder. As the hours had gone by, Anna had become increasingly incredulous at what she
had just done.

At least it was a bright morning as they left the bustling station and walked into the central district of the city. Weary as she was, Anna’s heart lifted slightly as her eyes took in the
beauty of Leipzig. The wide cobbled streets were lined with impressive tall stone buildings, many of them decorated with ornate gables or carvings and boasting rows of elegant casement windows. The
passers-by spoke in a clipped language that, having heard it spoken during the long train journey from Hamburg, Anna knew was German. Jens had assured her he spoke it with reasonable competence,
but she could only grasp a word or two that was similar enough to Norwegian.

Eventually they found themselves in the central market square, which was flanked by the imposing red-roofed Town Hall, fronted by pillared arches and dominated by a high domed clock tower. The
square was already packed with stalls and humming with activity. Jens stopped at one of the stalls where a baker was laying out an assortment of freshly baked bread. As Anna drank in the delicious
smell, she realised how hungry she was.

But Jens had not stopped for food.

‘
Entschuldigung Sie, bitte. Wissen Sie wo die Pension in der Elsterstraße ist?
’

Anna had no idea what the baker’s gruff reply meant.

‘Good, we are not far from the lodging house Herr Grieg suggested,’ Jens said.

This turned out to be a modest half-timbered building situated along a narrow lane just off a road Anna saw was called Elsterstraße. It certainly had a different atmosphere to the many
grand edifices they’d passed on the way, she thought warily. The district looked a little down at heel, but forcing herself to remember that this was all they could afford, she followed
behind Jens as he strode up to the door and rapped the knocker loudly. After several minutes, a woman appeared, hastily tying the cord of her robe to cover her nightgown, and Anna realised it could
not be later than seven in the morning.

‘
Um Himmels willen, was wollen Sie denn?!
’ the woman grumbled.

Jens answered her in German and all Anna could understand was ‘Herr Grieg’. At the mention of his name, the woman’s face relaxed and she ushered them inside.

‘She says she’s full, but that as it’s Herr Grieg who sent us, there’s a maid’s room up in the attic that we could use temporarily,’ Jens translated for
Anna.

Up and up they climbed, the narrow wooden stairs creaking underfoot. Finally, they arrived on the top floor and the woman pushed open the door to a tiny room set under the eaves of the house.
The only furniture was a narrow brass bed, and a chest of drawers with a basin and a jug atop it, but at least it looked clean.

Another conversation in German then ensued between Jens and the woman, as he gesticulated at the bed and she nodded, then left the room.

‘I have said we will take it for now until I can find alternative accommodation. I have told her the bed is too narrow for us both to sleep on, so she is finding me a pallet. I will sleep
on the floor.’

They both stood, looking about the room in weary silence, until the woman returned with the pallet. Jens offered some coins from his pocket.

‘
Nur Goldmark, keine Kronen
,’ the woman said, shaking her head.

‘Take the Kronen for now, and I will change some money later today,’ Jens suggested.

The woman agreed reluctantly, pocketing the coins as she issued further instructions, pointing under the bed, then left the room again.

Anna sat down gingerly. Her head was spinning with exhaustion, but more pressing than that, she needed to use the facilities. Blushing, she asked Jens if the woman had told him where they might
be.

‘There, I’m afraid.’ He too pointed beneath the bed. ‘I’ll stand outside while you . . .’

With heat mounting in her cheeks, Anna agreed and once he was gone, did what she had been desperate to do for hours. Shuddering as she covered the contents of the pot with the muslin cloth
provided, she allowed Jens back in.

‘Better?’ he grinned.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied tightly.

‘Good. Now, I suggest we both get some rest.’

Anna blushed and looked away as Jens divested himself of his clothes until he stood in his cotton breeches and vest. Using his topcoat to pull over him, he lay down on the pallet.
‘Don’t worry, I promise not to peek,’ he chuckled. ‘Sleep well, Anna. We’ll both feel better after it.’ Then he blew her a kiss and rolled over away from
her.

Anna untied the ribbons of her cloak, removed her heavy skirt and blouse, leaving her chemise and bloomers in place. She could already hear Jens’ gentle snores emanating from the pallet as
she crawled under the coarse woollen blanket and rested her head on the pillow.

What have I done?
she thought to herself. Herr Bayer had been right all along. She was naive and headstrong and had not stopped to think through the ramifications of her actions. Now
she had burnt all her bridges and had ended up in this terrible, claustrophobic room, sleeping within inches of a man she had not even married, and having to perform intimate acts with no privacy
whatsoever.