Margit Sandemo: The Ice People 18 - Behind the Facade

Looking at Vemund, Elisabet said: “Do you know what? I think I’m beginning to like you.”

He almost exploded in a fit of rage: “You mustn’t!” he said urgently. “I want to be a recluse who keeps everybody at a distance. Understand?”

“I didn’t say that I had begun to love you,” she answered coldly. “Heavens, no! All I said was that I had found something as unique as a soulmate in you. You can be as much of a recluse as you like. It’s none of my business.” He stared at her as if to find out where he had discovered this girl, but then turned away with a snort.

Elisabet lowered her head and said: “Vemund, I’ve realized something.”

“What?”

“You never speak about your parents. You speak about them as Lillebror’s parents, and what you say comes with a lot of strange evasions.”

They had reached a beautiful forest; they were clearly driving along the mountain ridge. Then when they had come out of the trees and had a panoramic view of Christiania and Akershus in front of them, they stopped by a house at the edge of the forest.

This was an inconspicuous building compared to Lekenes. It was where Vemund Tark lived.

“I think you thrive here,” Elisabet said as she looked around.

“Yes, I do. Here I can be at peace. I just need to fetch a few things and put the horse in the stable. Then we’ll go on to Karin’s house.”

Elisabet thought, this is beginning to get complicated. How am I to keep track of all this secretiveness? And surely, he could have invited me indoors?

She looked down at her beautiful dress. She was not fond of the vogue for wearing a wig but the fashionable dresses were nice with their close-fitting low-cut bodices and wide skirts that stood out. Everything was so neat, so feminine, and there were a multitude of colours, beautiful materials and exquisite pieces of lace. Her flowing, auburn locks did not go with the style but this meant nothing.

Elisabet’s mother, Tora, had said that the people at Lekenes were “adorable”. Elisabet hoped so. But according to her mother, Vemund was not regarded as one of them. No, he was certainly not adorable.

At that moment, Vemund opened the coach door and asked if she was coming in.

Elisabet could not be bothered to argue about manners with him, so she got out as gracefully as possible. She was not offered a helping hand but she was curious to see his house and followed him inside.

In the drawing room stood an elderly woman with a narrow, stony face, hands neatly folded on her stomach. She curtseyed indifferently to Elisabet.

Vemund explained. “This is Mrs Aakerstrøm, who looks after the house for me. She lives in town and only comes here for a few hours each day. She also makes food and cleans the house for Karin, my relative, so you won’t have to think about that. Your duty will be to take care of Karin twenty-four hours a day, with companionship, help – and monitoring. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“I appreciate Mrs Aakerstrøm a lot. She’s the most reliable person I know. What happens in Karin’s house never crosses her lips. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with Karin personally. Mrs Aakerstrøm is deeply religious and doesn’t like tomfoolery.”

Turning to the woman, Elisabet said: “I understand. I promise that I won’t be in the way at all. I hope that we can work well together while I’m here. It’s my understanding that Mr Tark is employing me for a limited period of time while he’s looking for a woman who can be taken on permanently.”

Vemund and Mrs Aakerstrøm nodded.

Elisabet was wrong if she had thought that she would be shown around Vemund’s home. She did not get to see more than this one room, which did not leave much of an impression on her. Mrs Aakerstrøm kept it extremely neat and tidy, furnished with objects that had clearly been collected from the loft at Lekenes. It was impersonal, conventional, typical of a man who was fond of the outdoors and not interested in what his home looked like.

Elisabet was surprised that the thought made her feel a tiny pang of sympathy. Vemund Tark was otherwise not a man who lent himself to softness.

“Well, we had better be on our way,” he said curtly. “I haven’t much time to waste.”

Thank you for your kind consideration, Elisabet thought grumpily, following him out to the coach.

They rattled on, moving suddenly downhill towards the city. They stopped in one of the first streets.

“Now we’re here,” Vemund said. “I’ll leave you here ...”

“Aren’t you also coming in as well?” Elisabet asked, panicking slightly.

“I’d prefer not to,” Vemund said stiffly. “The woman who’s taken care of Karin temporarily will introduce you to your duties. If you have any problems, come to me! And drop by tomorrow evening, by all means.”

“When?” she had time to ask before he had entered the coach.

He turned around, clearly irritated. “I honestly don’t know. Let’s say at seven. I’ll send Mrs Aakerstrøm so that Karin won’t be on her own.”

Then he slammed the coach door and disappeared.

Elisabet was left in the narrow street while some children in a gateway farther down stared at her.

She looked up at the house that was to be her home for a while. It was small but nice, with two storeys and a tasteful ornament over the door. She sighed, resolutely grabbed her luggage, which the driver had unloaded, and knocked on the door.

Nobody answered. After a couple of fruitless attempts while the children went on staring at her, she tried the handle carefully.

The door opened and she entered an enchanting, small hall decorated in light and lovely colours.

“Hello?” she said cautiously.

Still not a sound. Then she heard somebody moving in the room next door and walked in warily.

A woman was standing with her back towards her, polishing silverware. Elisabet gave a slight cough. No reaction. She stepped nearer so that she could be seen. The woman started, dropping the sauce spoon on the table with a rattling sound.

Elisabet said: “Hello.”

“Oh, there you are,” said the woman, in a hollow voice. She looked Elisabet up and down. “I’m glad you came. Now I can get away from this madhouse! I suppose you know what you’re in for? I certainly don’t want to spend another second under the same roof as that screwed-up ... lunatic!”

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