C12 Chapter 12

Elisabet was to experience more surprises before the day was over.

Mrs Tark welcomed them exuberantly. Lillebror kissed his mother’s hand with the same damned, doglike adulation as always, which she graciously relished. Then she asked Elisabet to join her up on the first floor.

“I assume that Lillebror told you we’re having a fancy-dress ball?” Mrs Tark said, with her arm around Elisabet’s shoulder as they walked up the broad stairs. “I’ve pondered how we are to introduce you. A great many notabilities from Christiania will attend, so it’s important that you make a good impression.”

Elisabet set her shoulders and tried to get away from the enforced intimacy. Having Emilie Tark’s well-powdered face and hair so close to hers felt like a nightmare. She held back a powerful sneeze as much as she possibly could.

Mrs Tark had always been sympathetic to Elisabet’s moods. She removed her hand with an indifferent remark and continued to talk.

“You’re of noble birth, Elisabet, so we must dress you accordingly, something impressive and grand, if you see what I mean. I’ve found a fine costume that I’m sure will fit you perfectly. A Valkyrie. How about that?”

They turned a corner on the top landing and Elisabet was shown into Mrs Tark’s large boudoir, which was just as elegant as everything else in this house. But the smell of powder was intrusive and as always it made Elisabet irritable. The kind chatting went on: “Then you can keep your dark hair the way it is.”

“What will you pretend to be, Mrs Emilie?” Elisabet asked. She hoped that her voice did not reveal her indignation.

“A shepherdess, dear Elisabet. Quite modest.”

Phew! Mrs Tark was to be neat, demure and feminine while Elisabet was to portray a strong and strapping Valkyrie!

Elisabet asked Mrs Tark very nicely: “And what will Lillebror dress as?”

“A shepherd. He has a fantastic cape and broad-brimmed hat and shepherd’s crook. He looks so sweet in that costume.”

The sneaky cat, Elisabet thought. You’ve figured it out very nicely, haven’t you? You’re a female spider, you want your son all to yourself and I’m to stand there like an idiot, looking ridiculous in chain mail and a shield. No, thanks!

You can have your arse licker of a son to yourself, Elisabet thought, in language that would have made her mother faint. I want your other son, the defector, who had a bellyful, sitting at your feet, pining for the most beautiful mother in the world. He who has a big enough heart to take care of your daughter, whom everybody else in this house seems to have forgotten!

Elisabet was so agitated that she might burst into tears at any moment. From now on, she would stand loyally beside Vemund and Karin. How could you behave as if an unhappy daughter did not exist? Was not a mother’s place precisely by Karin’s side, helping her through her illness? How could you put her in an asylum and live happily ever after? Lillebror had said she had had a “difficult” time. Poor mother, with a daughter who had inherited a mental illness and who had torched her sensitive mother’s home!

Inherited? Had Karin really inherited a mental defect? According to Vemund, that was not the case – a shock had darkened her mind, and Elisabet trusted Vemund’s words entirely.

Elisabet’s thoughts returned to the vivacious Mrs Tark.

“I’ve already made up my mind about a fancy dress,” Elisabet said lightly. “I’ve brought a dress which with a few alterations I can change into the costume of Titania, the Fairy Queen.”

Mrs Tark’s eyes flashed lightning. She was not used to being contradicted. “My dear child, I was a fairy at our previous fancy-dress ball. That will merely be a repeat and nobody has ever been a Valkyrie before.”

And nobody will be one either!

“Mrs Tark, I’m not the type to be dressed up as a Valkyrie. With my strong movements and carefree style, it will make me appear too masculine. I need to be portrayed as a gentler person; if not, things will go terribly wrong.”

Mrs Tark smiled extremely gently: “My dear girl, I’ll help you with your carefree demeanour. Lillebror is very sensitive. His mother has probably spoilt him.” A smug, apologetic laugh followed. She went on: “Lillebror has a weakness for what is demure and feminine. We will help bring out this trait in you ...”

Mrs Tark gesticulated helplessly. “If you’re to be a fairy, you’ll have to powder your hair white.”

Elisabet replied: “That’s not necessary. I’ve brought a white wig in which there’s no powder. I can’t stand wigs but I think it will be all right for just one evening.”

Mrs Tark was sceptical. “A fairy is so ... ethereal, dear girl,” she said apologetically, “and you’re not exactly ...” She let the sentence finish itself.

“Then I’ll wear an ordinary party dress. I can’t wear the dress of a Valkyrie.”

Emilie Tark let out a loud laugh. “All right then. You’ll be a fairy queen. But what are you going to do with your tanned skin? And your strong colouring? Powder would certainly be the right thing for you here.”

“That is absolutely out of the question,” Elisabet said; she could not help registering the disapproval of strong colouring. “No powder for me! I’ve never heard of a fairy with breathing difficulties.”

Mrs Tark laughed, and with every word she spoke, she moved farther away from the unruly Elisabet: “You certainly have a sense of humour, Elisabet. But wait, I’ll show you some charming accessories I have for the Titania costume. A veil full of sparkling stars ...”

Mrs Tark disappeared from the room and went downstairs. Elisabet, who did not want to be left standing in somebody else’s boudoir, went out and onto the landing. Emilie Tark was downstairs for quite some time. Suddenly Elisabet heard her voice in one of the rooms. “Bubi, Bubi, my dear. Come here a moment. Have you seen the suitcase that I keep my fancy dresses in?”

Elisabet stiffened. Bubi? Here at Lekenes?

A voice answered: “What did you say, Emilie?”

She could hear footsteps downstairs. A man’s steps out in the hall. Elisabet hurried to the wide banisters by the stairs. From there, she had a view down into the hall. She saw him from above as he walked in the direction of Emilie Tark. She could see that he was somewhat bald now that he had taken off his wig. Seen from above, he had the shape of a barrel. Then he was gone again.

Elisabet took a deep breath. He was easily recognizable. The bloated body and the dark-red complexion.

Bubi was Mandrup Svendsen.

What had happened in those days when Vemund had hurt Karin so much? Bubi who never turned up ... The estate that burned down.

When did all this happen?

Saturday, the day of the fancy-dress ball, dawned, and as if a devil had pulled the strings, everything happened to focus on Lekenes that day.

It began when Dr Hansen happened to bump into Miss Spitze when he was on one of his house-calls. He had very nearly walked past her in the street when he remembered Elisabet’s words.

“Excuse me,” he said politely. “I believe you’re Miss Spitze?”

To begin with she looked frightened, but then she relaxed somewhat. Obviously, the man did not have dishonest intentions.

“Yes,” was her short reply.

Dr Hansen looked at the short, birdlike woman, who was probably about the same age as him. He introduced himself and continued: “A young lady I know would like to get in touch with you.”

Now Miss Spitze distanced herself once more. “Oh?”

Dr Hansen said: “It seemed to be extremely important to her. She’s Elisabet Paladin of the Ice People.”

Miss Spitze looked confused. “I can’t say that I recall the name ...”

“No, I wouldn’t think you would.”

“Is she ill? Or in need of pastoral care?”

“It doesn’t seem so. Whatever it is, it seems to be extremely urgent. I’ll give you her address. Then you can decide for yourself.”

Miss Spitze nodded eagerly. She resembled a woodpecker that had found something exciting in a tree trunk. “I have a spare moment this afternoon. I’ll walk to the place then. I’m always ready to help where there’s a need for mercy.”

Dr Hansen thanked her warmly and gave her the address. Then he was off. His colleagues did not like him very much. They felt he showed far too much humanity in dealing with his patients. A doctor had to know his station in life. He needed to speak in a dignified and unintelligible manner; if he had to, he would pat the patient obligingly on the head. Dr Hansen was much too jolly and interested. You could tell by the fact that his patients idolized him, which was terribly undignified.

Their criticism did not bother Dr Hansen. Now he had given yet another friend a helping hand. Miss Elisabet was bound to be happy. That girl was full of beans!

Her house was cosy and the patient interesting. He would probably be able to think of a reason to drop by this afternoon as well. He had not been there for a couple of days. Karin Ulriksby probably needed his advice ...

Elisabet had not seen Vemund since Lillebror had fetched her from his house at the edge of the forest. The day before yesterday ... Was that only two days ago? She thought it seemed like a fortnight.

Mrs Aakerstrøm – whom Elisabet had shamelessly asked – said that Vemund spent the days in the office in Christiania. She said he was going over the accounts.

Was it necessary to do that right now?

Elisabet was in a frightful mood, irritable and confused. She knew that they planned to announce her engagement to Lillebror that same evening when all the notables were present. Margravine Elisabet Paladin of the Ice People. Of princely blood.

Oh, come on! She had to speak to Lillebror and his parents before the party. To tell them that she did not want to get engaged to Lillebror. That Vemund was the one she wanted to marry. It probably wouldn’t matter to them which of their sons married the so-called princely daughter. What a title! But it was not the same for Vemund, which was why she needed to speak to him first. To tell him that she would pull out of the agreement. She did not need to tell him that he was the one she wanted to marry. The proposal was something he would have to tackle himself. After all, he owed her that much ... Of course, there was the possibility that he might not propose at all. Or that he would choose the pistol or the rope or whatever he had thought of.

That obstinate fool!

Elisabet regarded the fancy-dress costume with distaste, lying there in a heap on the bed. How was she to dress up now, when her mind was in turmoil? She did not have a bad conscience regarding Lillebror. He might admire her at the moment but he could not care less whom he married. He would go on falling in love with young ladies and he would probably also engage in closer liaisons, whether he married or not. She knew Lillebror well enough to know that he would never worry about being faithful in marriage. Elisabet would never be able to live with the certainty that her husband shared his love, squandering it on others. She would have to back out! Now, today, the sooner the better. After all, she was in the same boat as he! Maybe even worse. She would be entering the marriage with all her love directed at her brother-in-law. That went completely against Elisabet’s values. It would be deceit right from Day One.

Karin called from the top floor, forcing her to think about something else. In everything that was happening around them, in the middle of all the emotional turmoil, Vemund and Elisabet had forgotten to tell Karin’s dear Dr Hansen – who, incidentally, had not called for a while – that Karin was definitely not allowed to go near Lekenes again. They had no idea that Karin was patiently waiting for Dr Hansen to drop by again and that she had thought of asking him for another ride in his coach. She wanted to see the marvellous estate again, perhaps even visit those who lived here and to hear more about the beautiful house of which she had only seen the façade. Karin wanted very much to see what was behind that splendid façade.

Emilie Tark was pleased with her reflection in the mirror. She powdered her hair a little more and then turned to her husband. “I really think Vemund ought to have made an appearance today. He got the invitation. Have you heard from him?”

The handsome Arnold Tark was struggling to make his lace neckerchief sit properly. His face showed clear signs that he was tired. “Vemund has been at the office for several days with a couple of court officials or something of that sort.”

His hands were shaking so much that he could not get his neckerchief to do as he wanted.

“That’s nothing but stupidity on Vemund’s part,” Mrs Tark said, sounding disgusted. “Imagine humiliating Mandrup like that. As if my cousin could be guilty of embezzlement!”

“It’s probably worse than that, dear Emilie.”

“What do you mean, worse?” his wife asked sharply.

Arnold Tark said: “Vemund and I may have been a bit slow on the uptake. Mandrup has been given far too free a hand. Far, far too free a hand.”

Emilie Tark replied: “Nonsense! If he’s made a minor error in the bookkeeping, you can fix that easily. You shouldn’t have left the business to Vemund so soon. He’s never there, he’s always running about out in the forests or by the rivers. It’s inappropriate, I’ve often said so. Poor Mandrup, he’s slogged and worked himself to death for Vemund’s sake.”

“Well, ‘slogged’ might not be quite the word in this context,” Arnold Tark murmured. He was afraid to speak too loud in case his wife heard him.

Emilie moaned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with Vemund. He used to be so sweet and obliging when he was a boy. Do you think I neglected him for the sake of Lillebror when they were small?”

Arnold Tark was too weak to answer. He thought that both boys had, in fact, been neglected. Their mother was practically always with them – but the love they thought she was giving them was nothing but a demand on her part. They had to worship and obey her. Was he being unfair? He had often been away on business in those days. There was no doubt that Lillebror admired his mother, so she must have given him something. Lillebror felt that his mother loved him.

What about Vemund?

What had gone wrong in recent years? Why did he avoid his own home like the plague? Lillebror asserted that Vemund had committed an act so evil that it was impossible for him to look his parents in the eye. He must know that his own father would forgive him and so would his mother. She relished showing off her handsome sons. Did Vemund not realize how much pain he had caused his mother? She could no longer speak about her two sons.

His own words gave Arnold Tark a very peculiar taste in his mouth. He did not want to dwell any more on what he had been thinking about. Wondering what Vemund might be doing right now was much easier. He was clearing up the mess in the estate’s finances.

Arnold shuddered. Most of all about telling Emilie what had really happened. First, they must get through the fancy-dress ball, because he did not want to spoil her joy.

All Arnold’s life had been focused on pleasing Emilie. At first, out of love. Later on, out of habit. Finally, out of fear.

A maid entered. “Mr Mandrup Svendsen is here.”

“Oh, Mandrup.” Emilie brightened up. “Send him in!”

Mandrup Svendsen’s fiery red face was even darker than usual. His complexion glistened with perspiration and his eyes showed very clearly that he had been drinking heavily all day. He did not want to miss a chance to party, even if unpleasant things were happening in the estate office. He had already drawn up a plan. He had ordered a coach for tomorrow morning to take him to the harbour. From there he would board a ship for Denmark and after that he contemplated a journey to Germany. He had set aside a lot of cash ... Here at the party, he was safe – a lot safer than in his own home.

“Emilie, I simply can’t use the Robin Hood costume any longer. It’s shrunk so much.” Mandrup said. “Haven’t you got a Roman toga I can wrap myself in? With a laurel wreath and a pair of sandals? Wouldn’t I look terrific as Caesar?”

Arnold Tark murmured: “Rather like Nero.”

“Yes, we’ll find something good for you, dear,” Emilie said as she got up.

The maid entered once more. “Miss Elisabet Paladin of the Ice People, Madam.”

“Well, at last. About time, too! And Marte, from now on she’s to be addressed as Countess. It should really be Margravine, but in this house we like to maintain an unpretentious atmosphere.”

Arnold had already gone out to greet Elisabet. He liked her and had a certain respect for her. He had misgivings about the future relationship between her and Emilie. His future daughter-in-law seemed to possess a lot of willpower – something Emilie had a tendency to punish. He thought Elisabet seemed so determined, which did not bode well!

Supper was ready in the dining room. The servants had done an excellent job, having toiled under Emilie’s angelically disguised threats. The coaches began to arrive, bringing one prominent guest after another. You did not turn down an invitation to a fancy-dress ball at Lekenes.

To Mandrup Svendsen’s horror, they had invited the chief constable. How much did he know? No, the scandal about the Tark business could not yet have reached his ears, and minor court ushers were not invited. He could feel safe. Perhaps ...

Perspiration made the toga stick to his body.

Karin had a visitor at her house. Dr Hansen wanted to know whether she would like to come for a drive since it was such a mild day. Yes, she would like that very much and she hurried to get dressed for the spin. How about driving up to the beautiful estate once more?

Dr Hansen hesitated a bit but then he nodded. Unless he was much mistaken, he knew someone in the house, a maid, who had once consulted him as a doctor. This meant that perhaps Miss Karin might be allowed to see the estate from the inside. At any rate, some of it. They did not have to meet the owners, who, so Vemund and Elisabet had said, might ask unpleasant questions. It seemed like exaggerated caution on the part of Vemund. After all, Dr Hansen had no idea how dangerous Lekenes was. Karin clapped her hands in delight, gave Mrs Vaagen orders about Sofie Magdalene, kissed the little tot, and then they left.

First, they went on a short detour in the lovely weather. In the meantime, Miss Spitze arrived at the house. Mrs Vaagen opened the door. No, Miss Elisabet Paladin was not at home at the moment. “Oh, but I was told that the matter was urgent and I haven’t got time later in the week ...”

Mrs Vaagen said: “Well, if it’s urgent ... I know where she is.”

Could Miss Spitze please have the address? This she was given, but not the name of anybody who lived at Lekenes, which she probably ought to have been told. Or maybe not. Maybe what happened was for the best.

A while later, Vemund came to Karin’s house, tired and depressed after going over the papers minutely with the court ushers. Mrs Vaagen was the one who opened the door.

“Where’s Elisabet?” he asked. Vemund had not seen her for two days and he had been looking forward to meeting her.

“Miss Elisabet is at a party at Lekenes.”

“Oh, I see. That damned party. I’d completely forgotten. What about Miss Karin?”

“Dr Hansen came to fetch Miss Karin. They were going out for a ride in his coach.”

“That’s nice. And the little baby? Has she got rid of her cold before her christening tomorrow?”

“She’s recovered completely, Mr Vemund. She’s sleeping now. Would you like to ...?”

“No, I don’t want to disturb her. Did Dr Hansen say where they would be driving to?”

“I heard them say that they would be going up to visit an old patient on the beautiful estate. That’s Lekenes, isn’t it?”

Vemund turned hot and cold at the same time. “What? Haven’t I told ...?”

No, he had not, and neither had Elisabet by the look of things. Mrs Vaagen was innocent in this calamity and so was Dr Hansen. Elisabet did not really understand why Karin was not allowed to visit Lekenes. Vemund was to blame for it all. He had forgotten to tell Dr Hansen that he was not allowed to take her there again.

Vemund moaned quietly. “Mrs Vaagen, I must go up there immediately. I would very much prefer not to go, but I must be off now. Is it long since they left?”

“Yes, they left quite a while ago. Oh, by the way, a woman came to ask for Miss Elisabet. The matter was pretty urgent so I sent her up to Lekenes.”

“A woman who asked for Miss Elisabet? Was that her mother?”

“No, no. It was a short woman with a foreign accent. Ah, what was her name? Miss Spitze?”

Vemund went as white as a sheet. “What are you telling me?”

“Was that wrong of me?”

Vemund replied: “No, not at all. It’s not your fault. But you would think that all the devils of this world were at play today! Heaven protect Karin Ulriksby!”

Then he sprinted off to get up to Lekenes before it was too late. He had not visited his parents’ home for three years.