“I’ve made up my mind.” Lauritz’s sour face said more than words. “I’m leaving now.”
“One moment, please.” The lawyer grabbed a pen and paper from the side table. With long fingers and neat handwriting, he wrote an agreement while Bettina got a hundred-dollar bill from her wallet.
Lauritz signed, and barely had time to wait for attorney Henriksen to make a copy before he was out the door.
Flemming stood. “I’d better follow him to the house, so he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
The others walked home together. “Congrats,” Nita said and hugged them both. “Mathilde was a smart woman.”
“Did you know anything about this?” Bettina looked at her mother, who shook her head.
“I had no idea.”
“I feel sorry for Lauritz. He didn’t inherit from either of them,” said Bettina.
“It’s a pity, but your brother has himself to blame. He never learned to take responsibility. Lauritz always looks out for himself. He lives it up, without ever thinking about the future, or worrying about hurting people along the way. It’s understandable that no one wants him to inherit their life work,” Nita said.
Her mother’s words were true, and it was discouraging that he behaved like that.
“It sure is good that I enjoy living in Solvik,” Anneli said and smiled as if to lighten the mood. “Now that I’m an heiress and all.”
Bettina laughed. “It was the best thing that could happen. Maybe you can take over the garden? You’re interested in that kind of thing,” she joked.
Anneli nodded. “Perhaps I will. I like working with plants.”
“That would be wonderful. We can do this together, you’ll see. But now I have to get started on clearing the apartment and the attic.”
“We can help you the rest of today and tomorrow. But on Saturday a friend of mine is turning seventy, and we’re invited to the party,” Nita said and sped up.
24
Lauritz had already packed and left by the time they got home. “That’ll be the last we see of our son,” Flemming said pensively. “I need a drink; it’s been a difficult day.”
“Let’s talk about something nicer.” Nita went to the kitchen to get refreshments and the cakes from the bakery.
“Can Jane come over?” Anneli picked up her phone to call her.
“Sure.”
They ate Castle cake and truffles in the light lounge that Mathilde had redecorated before Bettina moved in. It felt weird and good at the same time, and her feelings for her aunt were split. It had been extra work to take care of her, but she was glad that they’d got to know each other in the end.
They chatted for a long time before they started to clear the apartment. The Tower consisted of a living room, a small kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and two closets. The cupboards in the kitchen were full of plates and utensils that had been used when renovating the house. Bettina didn’t even know about this, since Mathilde had had all her food delivered from downstairs. She realized that things hadn’t been exactly as she had thought. There were cookies and leftover food in the fridge.
They scrubbed, cleaned, and sorted out as best they could. The wardrobe was overcrowded with clothes, and she let her mother take care of that. The apartment itself was elegant, and with a few coats of paint, it could be turned into a big suite. Or she could move in herself. It would be lovely to have more space than her current room. When they had guests, it would be great to retire to her private place. Lower her shoulders, feel the calmness spread, and let her thoughts flow freely.
“There are embroideries and cloths here.” Her father’s voice was inside one of the closets, so it was barely audible.
“Here, too.” She had started on one of the storage rooms.
“She sure loved her hobby,” Nita called from the kitchen.
“I have to laugh at the thought of Lauritz praising these embroideries. I heard it myself a few times. Sure, they look nice, but they’re not easy to sell. Who buys this kind of stuff nowadays? People who like embroideries are usually the people who make them,” said Bettina.
“We can check and see if retirement homes need some decorations.” Nita placed the embroideries along the wall.
“That’s an idea. We’ll keep them in the basement until then.” Bettina started carrying everything down the stairs.
They spent the whole night clearing up, and when Bettina finally slipped under the comforter, she was completely exhausted after a day filled with emotions. She was checking the messages on her phone when Erik called. Between yawns, she told him how the meeting with the lawyer had turned out.
“Amazing. And you thought Lauritz would inherit from your aunt. It shows you should never worry in advance.”
Bettina sighed long and deep. “You’re so right.”
“How did Anneli take it?”
“She was calm and collected. And pleased we don’t have to deal with Lauritz. Other than that, there won’t be any changes for her for several years. This is our home now, and it belongs to us alone. And I have to say it’s a wonderful feeling to know that I’m the only one who is responsible for the guesthouse. It’s up to me to make sure the guests have an unforgettable stay. And that’s going to be my focus. Without my aunt to take care of, and without my brother expecting to be served. And without my fiancé, and all the intrigues caused by his ex-wife and parents-in-law.”
Erik laughed. “You’ll have a lot of spare time coming up, and you deserve to be spoiled. How would you like to have dinner served at your guesthouse on Saturday? Let me surprise you.”
The suggestion made her feel giddy. This was exactly what she needed now. Someone to pamper her, if only for one night. “Sounds lovely. Both my parents and Anneli are going to birthday parties that night.”
“Can’t wait.”
***
Bettina took the time to enjoy a cup of coffee at the bakery the next morning when she went to get some fresh bread.
“That certainly was a plot twist,” Sara said after listening to the short version. “That’s great news.”
“Couldn’t have been better. I’m grateful that Mathilde knew what was best for the guesthouse. She must have seen through Lauritz.”
Sara had switched the coffee with even more cakes now that she was carrying twins. “Are you sure you don’t want a cinnamon bun?” She rolled it out so it looked like a long, curled up snake, and ate her way to the middle.
“I remember doing that when I was little.”
Sara started laughing. “I usually don’t play with my food, but I guess I’m practicing for when the twins are born.” She stroked her growing belly. She wasn’t more than three months pregnant, but twins took up a lot of space.
“Are you doing all right?”
“Oh yes, except for the exhausting morning sickness. But it’s supposed to be over soon. How’s it going with the hot doctor?”
She talked to Sara almost every morning, so she was well updated. But she hadn’t heard about the lunch at the café.
“He’s coming over for dinner tomorrow night. You’ll get a report when I see you after the weekend. Now I have to go home and make breakfast, my parents are waiting.” She collected her goods.
Sara raised her eyebrows and looked at her with anticipation. “See you.”
It turned into another long day of clearing up. It was time to take on the attic, which was filled with all sorts of stuff. Old lampshades, prehistoric candlesticks, even old magazines from five years ago. This was the first time she saw magazines in the house, so Mathilde must have cancelled the subscription. The attic was a notable collection of everything and nothing. Cardboard boxes, which were stacked on top of and next to each other, took up most of the space on the floor. A clothes dryer that hadn’t been used for years was standing in a separate corner.
She wrapped her jacket tighter. “It sure is cold up here.”
“There should be more light,” her father said, “it’s difficult to see. Those two globes in
the ceiling don’t really help.”
“I won’t use the attic much. Now that I have Aunt’s apartment, I can use the closets there for storage.”
“And the double garage is spacious,” Nita added. “Look, there are more embroideries here. This must be what Mathilde was talking about.”
“And here are the cloths that Lauritz didn’t want. Poor thing. I don’t get what she was thinking, giving him this old stuff.” Bettina looked around and shook her head.
“I have no clue,” Flemming said. “We’ll never know, either. Let’s carry the things downstairs to the dumpster.”
They had rented a dumpster that would be emptied the next day. It was already starting to fill up with stuff that had been in the apartment. It wasn’t only her aunt’s possessions they had to sort through, but her uncle’s as well. Mathilde hadn’t touched any of her husband’s belongings after he passed away. Bettina knew that she hadn’t had the energy. The grief had been enough to deal with. None of the clothes that were stacked in heaps fit them. Part of it was good enough to donate to the Salvation Army, but the rest ended up in the dumpster. It was mournful to see it all be cleared away for the last time, never to be used again. Sure, she hadn’t seen Mathilde wearing most of these clothes either, but still. It was so obvious that a life had ended and was over forever.
When the afternoon came, they were all exhausted and hungry. As soon as Anneli was home from school, they went to Lombardi’s to eat a well-deserved dinner. The attic was nearly empty. There was so little left that Bettina could manage the rest on her own tomorrow. The only thing remaining was to clean upstairs. And that should be doable in three hours.
***
Silence reigned in the house. Her parents had left, and she could barely hear Anneli and Jane’s laughter from the room on the second floor. She smiled to herself when she went upstairs to the attic. It had been a big transition for them both to move here. She was glad that Anneli was happy with her new friends. But she hadn’t forgotten about her old friends, and had invited them to a sleepover the next weekend. It would be a full house with friends and guests, and she knew that this was precisely how it should be at a guesthouse. Life and laughter, and content people.
There wasn’t much left to clear out, but her father was right about the absence of light up here. She pulled away some old blankets they had overlooked, and behind them were a couple of new boxes. Behind one of the boxes was an old, dusty painting. She blew on it, and the dust wafted onto her face. This must be the painting Mathilde had mentioned in the will. The painting her brother didn’t want. It was a landscape painting of two children sitting on the grass, chatting. The painting was so dusty that she couldn’t see the signature. She took it downstairs and put it on the floor, leaning toward the wall in the dining room. It could stay there for now, there was enough time to clean it later. Then she threw the blankets into the dumpster and went back upstairs to continue cleaning. She decided not to wash, but vacuum instead. If that wasn’t enough, she could always go over with a bucket and a cloth later.
When it was finally done, she had a look around. The attic was big, dark, and empty. Now it was up to her to fill it with belongings from her life. It felt good and sad at the same time.
***
“It smells amazing. What are you making?” Bettina had her nose above the pot and inhaled the spices. Erik had cut lamb into cubes, and seared it in butter along with garlic and onion. He added a spoonful of curry paste, then coconut milk and sugar, and let it boil.
“You’re so curious.” He sipped his red wine. “It’ll be Thai food today, more precisely, lamb curry.”
“Lovely. Shouldn’t we taste it? All the chefs do.” She poured some rosé in her glass and set it on the table.
“You’re terribly impatient. You’ll have to wait a little.” He cut bell peppers into thick slices, and put them in the pot along with stock, fish sauce and squeezed lime. Finally, he gave her a spoonful, and she could feel the taste explode in her mouth.
“Delicious. Just spicy enough.”
“It has to simmer. You can make a green salad if you want, and I’ll cut the water chestnuts for the pot.” He put on the rice, and chopped basil and coriander to be added at the end.
“I’m very impressed. You can cook.” She pulled lettuce from one of the bags. He had brought all the ingredients with him, and was well prepared.
“It’s fun to cook, at least for others,” he said and tasted the dish, before squeezing more lime into it.
“Feel free to come over to experiment,” she said without thinking. “I don’t like making dinner that much.” She covered her red cheeks with her hands, as if that would help.
“But you bake the best cookies ever. That’s more than enough.”
“That reminds me, I have to make more. Lauritz finished everything I had. And I have guests coming this week.”
“Come, I’ll give you another tour,” she said when the dinner was over and they had cleared the table. They went upstairs to inspect the attic first, and then to Mathilde’s apartment.
“It’s different here now,” he said and looked around the empty living room. “Her belongings are gone, it seems so big.”
She nodded. All the embroideries had been removed from the walls, and her mother had taken the trinkets. “It feels more like it belongs to me now. I need that.”
He slid his arm around her and pulled her closer. “I hear you.”
She looked into his ice-blue eyes and couldn’t turn away. She could feel the anticipation throughout her whole body when his soft lips met hers. Time came to a standstill. She gave in to the passionate kiss, and wished it would never end.
“Let’s continue the tour,” he finally said, “otherwise we’ll end up in your aunt’s bedroom.”
She knew he was right, and breathed heavily. “That’s where we’re headed.”
They entered the bedroom, which looked completely unfamiliar now. The well-used bed stood empty and naked in a corner.
“I kind of feel bad that we inherited everything.”
“You can’t think like that. It wasn’t your decision, but Mathilde’s. She knew that Lauritz wouldn’t have taken care of the inheritance in a good way. Be grateful for that. You did a lot for her after moving in. She was cared for like a queen, every single day. You deserve to inherit the house and run it the way you planned. It was both Herman and Mathilde’s biggest wish. Don’t forget that.”
It felt like something inside her let go. It was wonderful to hear him say those words. And he was right. She had it in black and white that this was how they both wanted it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They went on to the small kitchen. “It’s a stunning apartment,” he said. “What do you want to do with it?”
“I’ve been mulling it over. Either turn it into a suite and rent it out, or move in myself.”
They closed the door to the apartment and went downstairs to eat dessert.
“And what have you decided?”
She found dessert plates for the cake. “I think I want it for myself. My room isn’t all that big, and it would be nice to have some privacy when it’s full of guests here.”
“Yes, most guests won’t be as close as the ones you’ve been hosting so far. They might expect to use the living room. And it’s not your responsibility to entertain them. I think it’s a good idea.”
“It’ll be great with a coat of paint. But I would like new furniture up there.”
“That’s easy to fix. I’m happy to help you.”
“Thanks.”
He moved the cheesecake out of the fridge. It looked heavenly, and was decorated with red currants.
“Did you bake it yourself?” She looked at him, impressed.
“Naturally. I’m trying to leave a good impression on you. I got the berries from a patient of mine. An older lady with a garden full of red currants, according to her. I put them in the freezer to save them for a special occasion, which appears to be tonight.”
&nb
sp; They carried everything into the living room and got coffee. Erik discovered the dirty landscape painting that was standing on the floor.
“What’s this?”
“It’s the painting my brother didn’t want. I found it in the attic.”
He lifted it up and took it into the kitchen to clean it. “It’s old, possibly from a century ago,” she heard him say. She followed and noticed how carefully he treated it.
“It’s beautiful,” she said when he had removed most of the dirt. “What does it say here?”
“It says Harriet Backer!” he exclaimed and sank down on a chair.
She looked surprised. “The famous Norwegian painter.”
He examined it from all angles. “What if it’s real?”
She had a closer look. “It looks real.” She painted herself, and had solid background knowledge of the works of famous artists, as well as their techniques. “It’s an oil painting, not a print. Could it be a copy?”
“Hard to tell, but you should get it examined.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started checking. She suspected what he was doing, and waited in anticipation.
He frowned and looked at her. “Backer’s paintings are worth between 150,000 and 250,000 dollars. Look, here’s your painting. It says that it’s privately owned, but that the owner is unknown.”
She gasped when she saw that it was the exact same painting. She felt chills down her spine when she realized what she presumably had in her house.
They sat on the sofa and Erik set a slice of cheesecake on her plate. But she had lost her appetite. “The painting belongs to Lauritz.”
“Didn’t you say he had given up his right to the inheritance?”
“Yes, but if he had known about this, he never would’ve done it. He’s not stupid, just greedy and selfish. And hopeless when it comes to money.” She stared at the red currants and put one of the sour berries in her mouth.
Time for New Beginnings Page 29
