Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 18 - Behind the Facade

“I don’t think your mother has anything to worry about,” he said wryly. “I’m also of the impression that nobody douses themselves in more powder than those who aren’t real women. We’re in total agreement: I don’t like that stupid fashion either.”

“No, a century ago it wasn’t shameful to be bareheaded. Nevertheless, I brought a wig just to be on the safe side. In case it really is necessary to look neat.”

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “My relative’s situation is becoming precarious. I rode out to meet you so that I can explain in more detail what you’re to do.”

“Thank you, because I’m very much trying to find my way in the dark.”

“I can well understand. May I call you Elisabet?”

“Yes, of course,” she muttered; she was irritated at herself for being embarrassed.

“Thank you. As for Lillebror, you’ll get to meet him from time to time at my house. Tomorrow evening will be the first time. He plans to visit and I would like the two of you to meet then.”

This was not an invitation, but an order. Don’t allow him to dominate you, Elisabet! No, of course not. She would be careful!

Vemund Tark went on: “He’ll probably invite you to his home, Lekenes ...”

“Does he know about ...?”

“No. As you wished, I haven’t yet told him that I proposed to you on his behalf. All I’ve said is that I’ve met a young girl who is moving to Christiania and that he would probably like you. Of course, he’s curious. Only I didn’t tell him that you’re coming to take care of Karin.”

“Karin is your relative’s name?”

“Yes, and now I’m going to explain quite a lot to you. We must be very careful ...”

She looked down at his knees of plum-coloured velvet and noticed his strong thigh muscles. One knee was more angular and swollen than the other, as if he had received a very serious blow right there. With his preference for working outdoors, he could not avoid being slightly knocked and bruised. This knee and the tight thigh muscles made him seem so human, so alive and present in the now. She quickly shifted her glance.

Elisabet said discreetly: “I’ve gathered that Karin’s sickness isn’t so much in her body?”

“I knew you were intelligent,” he murmured. “That’s why I chose you – and because you’re the daughter of my friend, Ulf. You remind me a lot of him; he’s one of the few people I trust in this world.”

“Those were nice words about my father. I’m very fond of him,” Elisabet said, touched.

“Those were also nice words about you, but I don’t want you to hear them,” he mumbled.

“I heard what you said,” she said softly and with a laugh. “Surely I’m allowed to display false modesty? But please continue!”

“You’re right that she suffers from a mental illness, which means that she lives in her own world.”

“Can I take it that she’s completely harmless?”

“Absolutely! She’s a sweet little soul. The most important thing is that she’s allowed to live in her own dream world. Waking her would be like taking her life.”

“I understand. She’s fled into another world. From a truth?”

“You’re spot on! That is why she has to be spared from an awful lot of things. I’m there off and on, but very rarely. She doesn’t know who I am and she ought not to know it either. She calls me ‘the little, sweet boy!’”

“Is she elderly?”

“She’s forty-five years old. She knows that my name’s Vemund, but that’s all.”

“Now I don’t really understand.”

Vemund had difficulty talking. “You see, it’s my fault that she’s like this!”

“What?”

“Yes, it’s true. It’s because of me that she has to suffer like this. I neither will nor can touch on what it was that happened, but I’ve tried to make amends by caring for her as best I can. Previously, she was locked up in an appalling lunatic asylum but I got her out of there and gave her a home. And now comes the difficult part. She knows – that is to say, she would if she regained her mental faculties – that it was a Tark who ruined her life. But she doesn’t know that it was me or that my name is Tark. So, no matter what you do, Elisabet, you must never mention the name Tark when she’s near. This is your first and most important duty!”

Elisabet was pretty confused but nodded: “I promise.”

Vemund seemed to calm down. “This is also why nobody but me knows that I am taking care of her. Nobody at Lekenes, not even my brother, knows anything, and you mustn’t mention her to them. Just say that you’re a companion to an elderly woman in Christiania. If they get to know anything they’ll come rushing because she’s also their relative, and then they will spoil everything.”

“Is Karin also a Tark?”

“No, her last name is Ulriksby.”

Elisabet laughed. “I noticed that the first time you mentioned her, you paused a little before you said the word ‘relative’. I got the impression that she was your mistress.”

“Heaven forbid!” he murmured, turning his head away.

The coach rattled on its way to Christiania. It was unavoidable that there was an intense, intimate atmosphere in its plush-covered interior. Elisabet was very conscious of the emotional distance between them.

Vemund turned back towards her aggressively: “Lillebror thinks that I have a mistress, and we must let him believe this.”

Elisabet said: “I assume that I’m not supposed to tell the family at Lekenes about Karin Ulriksby either?”

“Under no circumstances! It would mean disaster since all of them are Tarks. I don’t even dare mention their first names because I’ve no idea how well she knew them before ... she became like this.”

“I suppose she had a shock?”

“Yes, an incurable shock.”

“And it was your fault?”

“Yes, I was the cause.”

“You don’t seem like the sort of person who goes about giving people shocks,” Elisabet said with unexpected kindness.

“I can assure you that it was very much against my intentions! There is Lekenes!”

Elisabet instinctively pulled on her gloves.

“No, we won’t get out here. I never go up there,” Vemund said.

Elisabet put her gloves away. “I heard that you live by yourself.”

“Yes.”

That was all she could find out.

They passed a majestic farm, a real manor house, the most impressive that Elisabet had ever seen. Every single line of the house, every tree and bush, every gravel path, reminded her of Louis XIV’s epoch.

They had long since left the main road to Christiania and now they found themselves on a small mountain ridge opposite the capital. The coach drove in through the large gates but did not follow the drive up to the house. They turned off, driving past parks and large, well-kept outhouses, and continued along a small road over fields and meadows towards the forest.

“So one day all this will be yours?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’d hoped that it would all be given to Lillebror, but no. Oh, well, I’ll probably find a solution. Everything will fall into place when he marries you.”

“You mustn’t take anything for granted! Maybe he won’t, after all.”

“He will,” Vemund said calmly.

“Why don’t you want all this?”

“It isn’t my style. I don’t want anything given to me for free.”

“Well, yes, that’s true. You want to fight for it. I must say I can well understand you.”

“Do you know what all this is?” Vemund said animatedly, with a wave of his hand at all the glory surrounding them. “It was created by smallholders toiling in the forest, farmers who starved without receiving a fraction of what their timber was worth. It wasn’t the Tarks who built Lekenes but we’re continuing along the same lines. I try to give those who work for us more decent conditions, but do you think that’s a popular decision? The others in the business are furious!”