The Storm Sister (The Seven Sisters #2) (63 page)

‘But why is it so?’

Karine gave him a small shrug. ‘Because,
chérie
, history has made us a scapegoat. People always fear those who are different, and over centuries we have been forced to
leave one home for the next. And wherever we arrive, we settle and become successful. We stick together, for it is what we have been taught. It is how we have survived.’

Pip lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Karine was quite right. Having spent most of his life tucked away safely in his small town at the top of the world, what Karine was telling him was akin to
a fictional story of another universe. And even though he’d seen with his own eyes the rubble of the torn-down Mendelssohn statue, he had somehow justified it in his mind that it was only a
random group of young men making a protest, as the fishermen sometimes did when the price of fuel for their boats rose, but the fish merchants refused to increase the price per kilo.

‘You are right,’ he agreed. ‘Forgive me, Karine. I am a naive idiot.’

‘I think it is more to do with you not
wanting
to see the truth. You do not wish for the big, wide world to disrupt your dreams and plans for the future. None of us do. But yet
here we are,’ she sighed. ‘And the simple truth is, I no longer feel safe in Germany. So I must leave.’ She stood up. ‘I’m meeting Elle and Bo in Coffe Baum in half an
hour to discuss the situation. I will see you later.’ Karine kissed the top of Pip’s head and walked away.

When she’d left, Pip looked down at the music spread across the desk in front of him. The performance of his composition was scheduled to take place in under two weeks. Whilst he berated
himself for his selfishness, he couldn’t help wondering now if it would ever happen.

Karine was calmer when they met again later that day.

‘I have written to my parents for advice and, in the meantime, I have no choice but to wait until I receive a reply. So, I may be able to hear you play your masterpiece after
all.’

Pip reached for her hand across the table. ‘Can you forgive me for being selfish?’

‘Of course I can. I understand the timing could not be worse.’

‘I’ve been thinking . . .’

‘About what?’

‘That perhaps the best answer would be for you to come with me to Norway for the summer. You would not have to worry for your safety there.’

‘Me? Go to the land of reindeer and Christmas trees and snow?’ Karine teased him.

‘Really, it doesn’t always snow there. I think you’ll find it’s rather beautiful in summer,’ Pip said, immediately defensive. ‘We have a small Jewish
population who are treated just the same as any other Norwegian citizens. You’ll be safe. And if war does break out in Europe, it will not come to Norway, and neither will the Nazis. Everyone
at home says that we are far too small and irrelevant a country for them to notice us. There’s also a very good orchestra in Bergen – it’s one of the oldest in the world. My
father is a cellist there.’

Karine’s dark, liquid eyes studied him intently. ‘You would take me home with you?’

‘Of course! My parents have heard all about you and my intention for us to be married.’

‘They know that I’m Jewish?’

‘No.’ Pip felt the colour rising to his cheeks and then felt angry for letting it. ‘But not because I didn’t
want
them to know. Simply because your religion is
irrelevant. They are educated people, Karine, not peasants from the hills. Remember, my father was born in Leipzig. He studied music in Paris and is forever telling us of the Bohemian life on the
streets of Montparnasse during the Belle Époque.’

It was Karine’s turn to apologise. ‘You’re right, I’m being patronising. And perhaps’ – she put an index finger to the spot between her eyes just above her
nose and rubbed it as she always did when she was thinking – ‘maybe that is the answer if I cannot get to America. Thank you,
chérie
. It helps me to think there is a
place of sanctuary if things here get worse in future.’ She leant across the table and kissed him.

As Pip climbed into his bed later that evening, he only prayed that ‘the future’ could wait until after the performance of his opus.

Even though they read in the newspapers of Jews being pelted with stones as they walked out of a synagogue, and many other deeply worrying incidents, Karine seemed less
anxious, perhaps because she now knew there was an alternative plan. So, for the following two weeks, Pip put his head down and concentrated on his music. He dared not look beyond the moment when
term ended, and waited with baited breath for Karine to receive a reply from her parents that would possibly direct her to travel to America. The thought sent shudders through him because he knew
that he did not have the money to follow her until he started earning as a musician.

At lunchtime on the day of the graduation concert, at which six new short works by students would be performed, Karine sought him out.

‘
Bonne chance, chérie
,’ she said. ‘Elle and I will be there to cheer you on tonight. Bo says he thinks that yours is the best of all the
compositions.’

‘That is very kind of him. And he contributes wonderfully to my opus with his cello playing in the orchestra. Now, I must attend my last rehearsal.’ Pip kissed Karine on her nose and
walked along the long, draughty corridor to his practice room.

At seven thirty on the dot, Pip sat in his tails in the front row of the Großer Saal, along with the five other young composers. Walther Davisson, the principal of the Conservatory,
introduced them all to the audience and the first composer took to the platform. Pip was up last and he knew that he would always remember waiting for the agonising hour and a half to pass before
his turn. But pass it did, and with a small prayer sent upwards, he walked up the steps, hoping he wouldn’t trip as his legs were shaking so. He gave a brief bow to the audience and took his
seat at the piano.

Afterwards, he couldn’t remember much at all about the applause or the cheers that went up as the other composers joined him for a communal bow. All he knew was that he’d been the
best he could be on the night and that was all that mattered.

Later, he was surrounded by fellow students and professors, all slapping him on the back and telling him they predicted great things for him. A newspaper journalist also asked him for an
interview.

‘My very own Grieg,’ Karine said with a giggle after she’d managed to fight through the crowds to embrace him. ‘
Chérie
, your glittering career has just
begun.’

Having had far too much champagne after the performance, Pip was irritated to be woken early the next morning at his lodging house by someone knocking on his door. He stumbled
out of bed to open it, and found his landlady still in her nightgown, looking vexed and disapproving.

‘Herr Halvorsen, there is a young lady who says she wishes to see you urgently waiting downstairs.’

‘
Danke
, Frau Priewe,’ he said, before closing the door and throwing on the first shirt and pair of trousers he could find.

A white-faced Karine was waiting for him outside on the doorstep. Even in an emergency, it seemed that Frau Priewe’s ‘no young ladies in the house’ rule still stood.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘Last night, three houses in Leipzig were set on fire – Jews were living in all of them. And Bo’s lodging house was one of them.’

‘Oh dear Lord! Is he . . . ?’

‘He’s alive. He managed to escape. He climbed out of his first-floor window and then jumped. With his precious cello bow, of course.’ Karine managed a sad, ironic smile.
‘Pip, he and Elle are leaving Leipzig immediately. And I really feel that I must go too. Come, I need some coffee, and from the looks of things, so do you.’

The small coffee house close to the Conservatory had only just opened its doors and was deserted as they sat down at a table by the window and ordered. Pip rubbed his face to try and recover his
senses. He had a serious hangover.

‘Have you heard from your parents?’ he asked her.

‘You know that as of yesterday, I had not. And today, it’s too early for the postman,’ Karine replied irritably. ‘It’s less than two weeks since I wrote to
them.’

‘What are Elle and Bo going to do?’

‘They will leave Germany as soon as they can, that’s for sure. But neither of them has the money to travel far. Besides, none of us know where it is safe to go. As for me, my
family’s apartment in Paris has been rented out while my parents are in America. I have no home to go to,’ she said with a shrug.

‘Then . . . ?’ Pip second-guessed what she was saying.

‘Yes, Pip, if you are still offering it, I will come with you to Norway, at least until I hear from my parents. It is all I can do. The end of term is only a few days away and your
composition has been performed, so I see no reason to delay. When I saw Elle and Bo this morning, they said that after the fires last night, the exodus of Jews from Leipzig will begin in earnest,
so we must leave while we still have the chance.’

‘Yes,’ Pip agreed. ‘Of course.’

‘And . . . I have something else to ask you.’

‘What is that?’

‘You know that since I arrived in Leipzig, Elle has become like my sister. Her parents are dead – killed in the Great War – and she and her brother were put into an orphanage.
He was adopted as a small baby and she has not seen him since. Elle was not so lucky, and it is only because her music teacher spotted her talent on the flute and viola and put her forward for a
scholarship here that she even has a future.’

‘So she has no home?’

‘Other than the orphanage, her home is here in Leipzig, in the room she shares with me. Bo and I are the only family she has. Pip, can they come to Norway with us? Even if it’s just
for a few weeks. From a place of safety, they can see how the situation develops in Europe, and decide what to do. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I simply cannot leave Elle behind. And as she
will not leave Bo, he must come too.’

Pip looked at her desperate expression, contemplating how his parents would feel if he turned up on their doorstep and announced that he’d brought three friends home to Norway for the
holidays. He knew that they would be generous and welcoming, especially as all three were musicians.

‘Yes, of course they can. If this is what you think is best, my love.’

‘Can we leave as soon as possible? The sooner we’re gone from here, the better.
Please
? You will miss your official graduation ceremony but . . .’

Pip knew that every day that Karine stayed in Leipzig was not only dangerous, but another day closer to a reply from her parents suggesting she join them in America. ‘Of course. We can all
go together.’

‘Thank you!’ Karine threw her arms around Pip’s shoulders and he saw the relief in her eyes. ‘Come on, let’s go and tell Elle and Bo they are to come with
us.’

Two days later, Pip led his exhausted friends down the steamer gangplank in Bergen harbour. A brief phone call made from the principal’s office at the Conservatory was
all the warning his parents had received of their surprise guests. A hurried series of goodbyes and thank yous had ensued with all his friends and tutors and the principal had given him a special
slap on the back, praising Pip’s generosity in taking his friends back to Norway.