Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 28 - Ice and Fire

Viljar said something. He had excused himself from the table.

“I’m going to take a ride.”

“Again?” said Heike, slightly annoyed. He had been brought out of his thoughts into the present much too abruptly and wasn’t yet in possession of his usual, calm tone of voice.

Viljar immediately assumed a disapproving expression. “I’ve done all my chores for the day, haven’t I? Is there more that needs to be done?”

“No, of course not, it would just be nice if you stayed home this evening for once.”

Vinga laughed. “At first we thought you were out courting. But you’ve been going out several nights a week, year after year! No girl would be able to stand a secret love like that for so long. Speaking of which, it’s about time you married, Viljar. Twenty-eight years old! It won’t do!”

“I don’t have time for that.”

“What do you do, in fact?”

“Just ride around,” Viljar answered, getting ready to leave.

“No, you’re staying here for a moment. You’ve been riding around ever since you were old enough to sit on a horse. You must have a reason!”

Viljar stopped, his hand resting on the door handle. He gave them a quizzical look, as though he were trying to decide what he should answer. Then he said brusquely, “Well, the reason isn’t the same as it was when I was younger, that’s for certain.”

“Aha!” Vinga said. “So you have found a girl!”

He gave a strained smile. “No, Grandmother. As I said, I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”

Heike would have liked to ask him to trust them so that they could talk about what needed to be discussed, but his grandson was already out of the door. They heard the outer door slam.

“Goodness, he’s always slamming that door,” Vinga muttered. “One day it’ll fall down like a drawbridge and crush someone.”

They went over to the window. Shortly afterwards they saw Viljar riding out of the courtyard as though the devil himself were at his heels.

Vinga and Heike looked at one another despairingly.

“He doesn’t resemble anyone else in the family,” she said. “He’s so introverted.”

“Yes, he doesn’t seem to be very happy here.”

“He wouldn’t fare well anywhere or with anyone. If only I could understand what is going on in that mind of his.”

Heike once again looked at his wife with concern. He felt a pang of fear within himself. She had grown so thin. Pallid and emaciated. He hadn’t noticed it until yesterday, but it must have been happening gradually.

He would have to examine her and see if he could cure her. But Vinga would never go along with that. And she would see through him right away if he tried to conceal his intention behind terms like “a routine examination” because “they were, after all, getting on in years”.

He would have to do something quickly! He couldn’t afford to lose Vinga. Now he fully understood Tula’s fear and grief. He was like her. Anchored to this world solely through another beloved person.

His sense of fear made him shudder.

Belinda arrived at Elistrand with the best intentions. If I just try to remember what Signe would have done in every situation, then everything will be all right, she thought to herself consolingly.

She had been given a new dress by her mother and father, and her own trunk, and they had been so sweet to her.

Everyone is so sweet, she thought. If they get angry with me every so often then it’s my own fault.

Imagine that they had shown such confidence in her! That they considered her worthy of taking care of Signe’s little girl! She almost didn’t dare to believe in her own happiness. And she would have to prove that she was worthy of the confidence they had shown her. She would do anything, anything.

On the day of her arrival at Elistrand, an elderly woman was standing behind the curtains of one of the windows on the second floor. She observed the girl critically. Despite Belinda’s attempt to descend from the carriage graciously and with as much dignity as possible, her skirt managed to get caught on the armrest and she fell on her face. Her hatbox and travelling bag, which she had dropped, lay scattered on the ground. The skirt had, of course, ridden up, revealing a pair of freshly ironed pantalettes.

The lady behind the curtain smiled with contempt, without considering that the girl, apart from being humiliated, might actually have hurt herself.

“What a pathetic fool,” she whispered. “I was right, she won’t pose any problems for us.”

She had seen Belinda before and believed she knew everything about this simpleton. Back then she had thought: why didn’t Herbert marry this girl instead of Signe?

She had loathed Signe. She could still feel her chest constrict at the thought of that insolent girl who had tried to take Herbert away from her. It had actually reached the point where Herbert had sided with Signe a few times. Against his own mother! After that Tilda Abrahamsen had completely frozen out her daughter-in-law. And when the wretched tart had died after giving birth to a daughter, she had felt nothing but relief.

But it was hard to take care of a child and it was, after all, only a girl. Furthermore, the nurse had stopped working for them. She had stopped in the middle of a weekday afternoon, after coming out of the nursery with her clothes disarranged and with flushed cheeks. Tilda could have sworn she had heard a scream and the sound of someone getting their ears boxed a few seconds earlier. And then Herbert came out of the room in a fury, talking about useless servants who didn’t tend to his child properly and saying that he would have to let her go.

Of course, he had done the right thing, but it meant that the responsibility for the child now fell on Tilda. And that didn’t suit her in the least! And anyway, what Herbert needed was a son. He was the one who had suggested Signe’s sister, Belinda. A good choice. She wouldn’t give them any problems. Belinda would never dare contradict anyone. And Herbert wouldn’t lose his mind over her in a way that would make him forget who was the actual mistress of the house! Or how much he loved and admired his dear mother.

Tilda straightened her collar and went down to greet the new maid. Not for one moment did she consider Belinda to be a possible future lady of the house at Elistrand and thus a threat – even if Herbert married her fifteen times over.

Belinda stepped into the hall on the verge of tears. Her palms and elbows burned from the fall, but it was the sense of shame that bothered her most. Despairingly, she brushed down her fine new dress.

“I can’t do anything properly,” she laughed shyly to the stiff figures standing in the hall. At first, they looked blurry, but once she had dried her tears her eyes met Mrs Tilda’s glance from above.

Belinda put down her bags and held out her red, well-scrubbed hand. “Good day. I am the new nanny.”

The hand that was placed in hers was very limp and was quickly removed from her clasp.

“We’ve already met,” said Tilda curtly. “I am Herbert’s mother.”

“Yes, of course,” Belinda murmured. “I don’t know why I struggle so much keeping track of names and faces.”

The last time she had visited Signe at Elistrand the lady hadn’t made an appearance. But of course they had met one another at Signe’s wedding!

Oh, Signe! It’s so empty here without you! Being here is so painful!

Poor Mrs Abrahamsen, Belinda thought sympathetically. What a shame that such an impressive looking woman should have such cold eyes. She was probably sad about that herself. Belinda decided to help her as much as she could.

Herbert Abrahamsen was there as well. “Welcome, Belinda,” he said with a gentle smile that went straight to Belinda’s heart. At that very moment the maid came out carrying a ten-month-old girl in her arms. Belinda forgot everyone and everything around her and reached out towards the child. Her eyes shone.