C3 Chapter 3
The very next day, Ulvhedin moved to Graastensholm. He sat in state on the load of his possessions, straighter in the back than ever before and with a twinkle in his eyes they had not seen for years.
“Good luck, Great-grandfather,” called Elisabet, stretching out her hand to him. The old man smiled. “Same to you, Elisabet. Take care of yourself, and thank you!” he whispered secretly. Great-grandfather knew everything. “But remember, Elisabet: the world is full of wolves outside the safety of Graastensholm parish. Wolves on two legs, who eat little girls for lunch.”
“I know. I’ll be careful. They’ll get to see that this lunch isn’t so easily digested!”
Ulvhedin laughed. “I know. You’re certainly my granddaughter!”
“I don’t like it that you’re moving up to live with Ingrid, Grandfather,” moaned Tora, who had joined them. “You two in that big house – it’s inappropriate!”
“Nonsense,” Ulvhedin said. “We’re not spring chickens any more. Besides, it’s no business of anyone else what we do or don’t do. They can just turn up and pry. Then we’ll conjure up little devils to chase them away!”
The old man had won that round. Tora turned on her heel and went indoors. She had taken care of him for many years and now she was free of him.
A fine coach came to pick up Elisabet. She was taking only the bare essentials with her to start with. She knew so little about the future. Her mother’s admonitions followed her far out onto the road. “Don’t waste your chances, Elisabet, and please don’t be as stubborn as you can be. Remember that you don’t need to like a man from the beginning. He may have good qualities that you don’t know about. Do what you can for the sick relative. That will make a good impression on your future parents-in-law. Give them my warmest regards and let them know that they will always be welcome at Elistrand. Our house isn’t as big and elegant as theirs but we ... bla bla bla ...”
Elisabet sighed with relief and sadness. She turned around and cast a final glance at her beloved Elistrand, wondering what her future might hold. Her father was already at work down by the river; she had said goodbye to him in the morning. Now her mother stood so small and alone by the road, waving sadly after the coach. Elisabet felt a great tenderness towards her. Her mother had always been sweet and thoughtful. She did not mean to be a busybody; she just wanted to do her best for everyone.
This was something that hurt Elisabet right now. Her parents had wanted to follow her but she knew how busy they were, and was she not one of the most independent members of the family? She regarded her journey as an adventure.
She realized that this had sounded a bit too rash now, as Elistrand disappeared behind the hedges. It would have been nice to have them nearby. Never mind! Ingrid would never have asked for help in such a situation, and Ingrid was Elisabet’s idol and role model – something Mum was, of course, not supposed to know!
The coach driver took her to Christiania. It was a beautiful, rather chilly day and the coach was well sprung, which was just as well since last week’s rain had washed away the road surface, exposing the stones.
When Elisabet was halfway there, Vemund Tark met her on horseback. She was taken aback when she discovered how virile he actually was. Just like Elisabet, he did not seem to care about wigs and powdered hair. His hair was gathered in a black velvet ribbon on his neck and his clothes were finer than those he had worn the last time they met. Nevertheless, he gave an untamed impression, which was precisely the effect that appealed so much to Elisabet. He looked more elegant on horseback than ever before.
He let the horse run alongside and joined Elisabet in the coach, which suddenly seemed very small and cramped.
“Please forgive me for not fetching you from Elistrand,” he said, “but my time didn’t allow it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elisabet murmured, shy as usual in his proximity. “Mum asked me to tell you straight away that my shameless and out-of-fashion natural hairstyle is because I’m allergic to powder. It makes it difficult for me to breathe. In that respect, Mum is afraid that people might think that I’m not a real woman.”
“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!”
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!”