The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (50 page)

‘Oh Lord, forgive me for the pain I have caused to others,’ she whispered to the heavens, where she imagined He must be looking down on her at this moment, writing out her ticket to
the underworld. Finally, she drifted into a restless sleep.

Anna was up and fully dressed by the time Jens stirred, desperate for a cup of water and ravenously hungry.

‘Bed comfortable?’ he asked as he stretched and yawned.

‘I will get used to it.’

‘Now,’ Jens said as he dressed and Anna turned away from him, ‘we must change some coins to Goldmarks and find something to eat. But first, can I ask you to leave the room and
I’ll join you outside when I’ve done my business?’

Aghast at the thought that he would see what was already in the pot, Anna did as she was bid. Then, to her horror, Jens came out holding it.

‘We must ask our landlady what we do with the slops,’ he said as he passed her and started to descend the wooden stairs.

Anna followed behind him, her cheeks burning. A simple country girl she may have been before going to Christiania, but never had she encountered anything as unhygienic and disgusting as this. At
home in Heddal, the facilities had been outdoor and basic, but far preferable. She realised that, having become accustomed to the modern bathroom in Herr Bayer’s apartment, she’d never
thought about how ordinary city dwellers got rid of their mess.

They found the landlady in the hall and Jens presented the pot to her as though he was handing her a tureen of stew. She nodded and pointed to the back of the house, but took it from him
anyway.

‘Right, all done. Let’s go and find some food,’ Jens said as he opened the door.

Walking along the crowded streets, Anna and Jens found a
Bierkeller
to one side of a small square and sat down at a table. Jens ordered beers, and the two of them looked up at the board
on which the short menu was chalked. Anna could not read a single word.

‘Well, there is bratwurst – sausages. I’ve heard they’re very good, although a bit fattier than the ones we have at home,’ Jens said, translating the menu for her.
‘
Knödel –
don’t ask me what that is . . .
Speck
, which is bacon, I suppose . . .’

‘I think I’ll just have what you’re having,’ Anna said wearily, as the beer was delivered to the table along with a bowl of dark bread. Even though she would have
preferred water, she picked up the mug and drank thirstily.

She peered out of the dingy windows to see the bustling square outside. The women for the most part wore plain dark dresses with white or grey aprons that accentuated their pale skins and
chiselled Germanic features. Anna had expected to see more finery in Leipzig, as she had been told it was one of the most important cities in Europe. There was the odd carriage that clopped past,
giving the occasional glimpse of a stylish feathered hat worn by wealthier women.

Their lunch arrived and Anna made short work of the potatoes and fat sausages. The beer had gone to her head and she smiled at Jens lovingly.

‘How do I ask for water?’

‘You say “
Ein Wasser, bitte
”,’ Jens replied, before his attention turned to the small street orchestra, who were playing fiddles in the centre of the square with
a cap laid on the path in front of them for money. Anna watched him stretch in pleasure as he listened.

‘Isn’t it wonderful here? This is where our destiny lies, I am sure of it.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘So how are you finding our adventure so
far?’

‘I feel unclean, Jens. When we get back, do you think it’s possible to ask the landlady if there is any place here that we can take a bath and wash our clothes?’

Jens fixed her with a hard stare. ‘Anna, come now, you told me you were a country girl, used to physical hardship. Is that all you have to say about being in Leipzig?’

She thought longingly of Heddal, and the clear melted snow that was collected from outside in winter and warmed over the fire for washing. And how in the summer there were the pure, fresh
streams in which to bathe. ‘Forgive me. I will manage, I am sure.’

Jens picked up his second mug of beer and slugged it back. ‘I should thank Herr Bayer, as he has forced me to finally walk towards my future.’

‘I am glad you are so happy to be here, Jens.’

‘I am indeed. Breathe the air, Anna. It even smells different. And the city is alight with creativity and music. Look at the crowd gathered around those musicians! Did you ever see such a
thing in Christiania? Here, music is celebrated, not derided as a poor man’s game. And now,
I
can be part of that celebration.’ He drained his mug of beer and threw some coins
on the table as he stood up. ‘Now, I will collect my letter from Herr Grieg and go straight to the Conservatory. This is the beginning of everything I’ve dreamt of.’

Arriving back at their lodgings, Jens rifled through his case and collected his precious letter. Then he gave Anna a kiss and made his way to the door.

‘Rest, Anna, and I will wake you with wine and good news later.’

‘And will you ask if someone there might hear me sing—’

But the door had already closed behind him.

Anna sank down onto the bed. She understood now that this ‘adventure’ had a completely different resonance for each of them: Jens had been running
to
something and she had
been running away. And now, she thought miserably, even if it had been the wrong thing, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Jens returned from the Conservatory a few hours later, even more euphoric.

‘When I first arrived and asked to see the principal, Dr Schleinitz, the porter looked at me as if I was the village idiot. Then I handed him my letter, and once he had read it, he went
straight to the office to fetch him! Dr Schleinitz asked me to play the violin, and then one of my compositions on the piano. And you wouldn’t believe it’ – at this point, Jens
punched the air – ‘he bowed! Yes, Anna, he actually bowed to me! We talked of Herr Grieg and he told me it would be a pleasure to teach any protégé of his. So, tomorrow I
begin my studies at the Leipzig Conservatory.’

‘Oh Jens! That is wonderful!’ Anna did her best to sound happy.

‘I also went to a tailor’s shop on my way back and had to pay him double to fit me out with more appropriate clothing by tomorrow morning. I want no one to think I am a simpleton
from the fjords. Isn’t it wonderful?’ He chuckled as he put his arms around Anna’s waist and lifted her up, twirling her around. ‘Now, before we go out to celebrate, we must
move into our new lodgings.’

‘You have already found somewhere for us?’

‘Yes. It isn’t a palace, but it certainly has its advantages over this. While you pack, I’ll go and pay the landlady her Goldmarks, and see you downstairs.’

‘I . . .’ Anna was about to say she doubted she could carry both the bags alone, but he’d already gone. A few minutes later, panting with exertion, she joined Jens with their
luggage downstairs in the entrance hall.

‘Right, let’s be off to our new abode,’ Jens proclaimed.

Anna followed him out onto the street and looked on in surprise as he merely crossed it and entered the house opposite.

‘I saw the vacancy sign in the window on my way back and thought I’d go and enquire,’ he added.

The house was similar to the one they’d just left, but the room was on the first floor and at least more spacious and airy than the stuffy attic. There was a big brass bed taking up most
of the space, and Anna’s heart somersaulted at the realisation that there was no room for a pallet on the floor.

‘There’s also a water closet across the landing, which means this room is more expensive, but that should please you at least. Happy, Anna?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded stoically.

‘Good.’ He handed some coins to Frau Schneider, the landlady, who Anna thought at least looked more approachable than the last one. ‘There’s enough for our first
week’s board,’ he said, beaming at her magnanimously.

‘
Kochen in den Zimmern ist untersagt. Abendbrot um punkt sieben Uhr
.
Essen Sie hier heute Abend?
’

‘She’s saying there’s no cooking allowed in the room but that we can eat supper each evening downstairs at seven,’ said Jens quietly to Anna. He turned to Frau Schneider.
‘That sounds like an excellent idea. How much extra would that be?’

Again, money exchanged hands and finally the door closed behind them.

‘So, Frau Halvorsen,’ Jens grinned, ‘how do you like our new married quarters?’

‘I . . .’

Jens saw the fear on her face as she gazed at the bed. ‘Anna, come here to me.’

She did so, and he held her tightly to him.

‘There, there. I’ve already promised you that I won’t touch you until you say I can. But at least we will be able to keep each other warm on cold Leipzig nights.’

‘Jens, really, we must be married as soon as possible,’ Anna urged. ‘We must find a Lutheran church that will marry us—’

‘We will, but let’s not worry about it now,’ he said, pulling her closer and trying to kiss her neck.

‘Jens, what we are doing is a sin against God!’ she said as she rebuffed his caress.

‘Of course, you’re right,’ he sighed against her skin before letting go of her. ‘Now, I fear we are both overdue a wash, and then we will go out to eat and drink.
Yes?’ he said, tipping her chin up so he could meet her eyes.

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling up at him.

In the next two weeks, Anna began to settle into a routine. Or at least, find things to occupy herself during the long, lonely hours when Jens was at the Conservatory.

Winter was bearing down, and their room was freezing in the mornings, so she’d often get back into bed after Jens left for the Conservatory, huddling under the warmth of the woollen
blankets while waiting for the coal fire she’d kindled in the small fireplace to build up a little heat. Then she would wash and dress, and make her way outside and through the streets of
Leipzig to the market to buy bread and slices of cold meat to feed herself at lunchtime.

The only hot meal they ate was that provided by Frau Schneider in the evening. More often than not, it would be some type of sausage with potatoes or soggy bread dumplings, in a nondescript
sauce. Anna felt herself longing for the taste of freshly grown vegetables and the wholesome fare of her childhood.

She spent many long hours trying to compose the letters she knew she must send to Herr Bayer and her parents. With Lars’ pen between her fingers, she wondered if he had sailed for America
as he’d planned. And in her lowest moments, wondered if she should have gone with him after all.

Then she took another piece of paper and began a second letter.

Anna did not give an address, too frightened and guilty to receive their recriminations. In the afternoons, she would take a walk in the park or meander through the city
streets, even though her cape was inadequate against the bitter wind, just so she could be a part of humanity. Evidence of Leipzig’s musical heritage seemed to be everywhere, from various
streets named after famous composers, to statues depicting their likenesses, to the very houses that Mendelssohn and Schumann themselves had once lived in.

Her favourite spot to visit was the spectacular Neues Theater, home to the Leipzig Opera Company, with its towering colonnaded entrance and enormous arched windows. She would often gaze up at
it, wondering if she could ever dare hope to perform in such a place. One day, she even plucked up the courage to knock at the stage door and tried to communicate with the stage-door-keeper. But no
amount of hand gestures could convey to the man that she was looking for employment as a singer.

Disheartened and feeling more and more like she didn’t belong, she had found refuge in the Thomaskirche, a very grand gothic building over which a beautiful white bell tower soared.
Although it was so much larger than the little church in Heddal, the smell and atmosphere reminded her of home. The day she had finally posted the letters to Herr Bayer and her parents, she had
retreated there. Sitting down in a pew, she bent her head and prayed for redemption, strength and guidance.

‘Dear Lord, forgive me for the terrible lies the letters contain. I think the worst one is that’ – Anna swallowed hard – ‘I am happy. I am not. Not at all. But I
know I do not deserve sympathy or forgiveness for any of it.’