The Stepdaughter

by Margit Sandemo

  This was Sol’s world and this was where she felt at home. She saw them and sensed the despair which they’d once felt as they languished in these dungeons knowing that they’d never be rescued, and that all they could look forward to was a slow, agonising death.

  Then suddenly all these figures were gone. She could hear the sound of heavy footsteps in the passageway outside.

  Jacob Skille appeared in the doorway.

  “So this is where you are!” he said harshly.

  Sol hesitated for a moment but then found a way out. “Yes, I heard that you were following me, so I decided to come down here where we won’t be disturbed.”

  He didn’t sense the atmosphere in the room.

  “You’re right. Nobody visits this place.”

  They made love in the dim moonlight, desperate and imaginative. Sol contributed with everything she’d learned during her ride to Blakulla, and Jacob was more than willing to learn. Sol felt that he became more and more confident in himself as a lover.

  He did everything she asked of him and they spent a wonderful half hour without Jacob realising that he was making love to a woman who was surrounded by dead bones.

  Eventually, Sol returned to her lodgings overcome by deep despair. The passion and sexuality of this world were no longer able to arouse her desire. This time, she felt nothing at all. Far greater efforts would be needed now if ever she was to be aroused again.

  Chapter 9

  The following morning Sol and Meta said goodbye to a very sad Jacob Skille at the quayside in Helsingborg.

  The voyage was pretty arduous, but they reached Oslo half a day before Dag was due to arrive. It was morning when they arrived and got off the boat.

  Sol stayed at an inn where she installed an exhausted Meta. The girl hadn’t been seasick but hadn’t been able to sleep at all during the entire voyage. She had almost been driven out of her mind at being on the sea in a boat that wasn’t much bigger than a nutshell. She’d held on tightly to the handrails so that the sea snake wouldn’t throw itself on her beloved Sol as soon as her back was turned.

  Sol warned Meta to lock the door to her room and not to open it to anybody but her.

  “I want to visit my sister who lives here in Oslo,” explained Sol. “You’re not coming with me because you’re so tired. You’re literally sleeping on your feet. I won’t be very long.”

  Meta tried to protest but in vain. The welcoming bed won. Sol heard that Meta locked the door from the inside and a gentle sound told her that Meta had fallen asleep immediately without undressing.

  Goodnight and sleep well, thought Sol, and she set off to find the house where Liv lived.

  ***

  When she arrived at the house, she was shocked at the sight of Liv. At first, Liv just stood staring at her in disbelief as if she didn’t really believe who it was she saw.

  “Come on, Liv,” laughed Sol, confused. “It’s me, Sol, your impossible sister!”

  “Sol? Are you ... here? Really? Oh, Sol!”

  Finally, Liv realised that she’d got a visitor, and once they were inside the house, Liv hugged her big sister very tightly, not wanting her to go. She was overcome with joy.

  “My God,” exclaimed Sol, shocked. “What have you done to yourself? I hardly recognise you. You’ve changed such a lot. Your hair looks matt and dull.”

  Liv’s hands were trembling as she showed Sol into the elegant house. She patted her hair anxiously, afraid her husband might find some reason to criticise it. “H-how d-do you m-mean?”

  Sol was astounded. Liv had never stuttered before in her life!

  “You’ve lost about half your weight – and your eyes! They show anxiety and you’ve got dark shadows under them. I thought you were well and happy. That’s what they wrote in letters from home. A wonderful big house and ... Are you here all by yourself right now?”

  Liv nodded. “It’s my mother-in-law’s gossip day. S-she’s visiting the w-wife of Mr. S-Samuelsen, the draper. She’ll spend almost the whole day there. Oh, Sol, just to see one of my own family once m-more! T-to be able to s-say what I want and to know that y-you won’t correct and q-question everything I s-say ...!”

  Liv burst into a flood of tears and Sol took her sister into her strong arms and hugged her, sensing that the awful sobbing expressed Liv’s feeling of despair that had been built up during many long months of loneliness.

  “I’ve tried to be loyal. I don’t want to speak about my husband behind his back but ...”

  “For goodness sake, Liv. Tell me everything!” said Sol. “Even I can see that some things need to be told!”

  “He wants to form my character, Sol, so that I fit in with his wish of a docile, stupid slave of a wife. Everything that I was taught at home is criticised and ...”

  “What!” exclaimed a furious Sol. “No parents have been better than Silje and Tengel ...”

  “I know, that’s how I feel too, but Berenius despises them.”

  “Have you been asked to refer to him as ‘Berenius’? It’s absolutely ridiculous!”

  “Oh, thank God, so you think the way I do about it? I thought it was me who was about to lose my mind. And his mum ...”

  Liv told Sol the whole story. The words simply poured out from her lips. Sol was speechless and deeply shocked. Not being allowed visits from her family, not being allowed to travel home to Linden Avenue and Graastensholm, not being allowed to draw and paint, not being credited with even the slightest bit of intelligence - this was horrific! Inhuman!

  Broken blossoms, thought Sol sadly. In the course of one week, she, the inflexible, who didn’t fit into a normal, decent lifestyle, had to take care of two young girls who sought her help. As if she were the stronger! It was absurd.

  “As for the marri...” Liv began but then broke off. “Oh, no. Sorry.”

  “Come on now, Liv. You must tell me!”

  “No, please don’t ask me to do so, Sol. I don’t know whether I can speak about such intimate things behind his back.”

  “As you wish, Liv. I don’t want to force you.”

  “Sol, I’m so unhappy with myself. So ... broken! Am I really that hopeless at everything? I try and try, but things always go wrong.”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s his fault, not yours!”

  These words were the best words Sol could have said to her sister, Liv. The words tumbled out of Liv’s mouth, about her great anxiety, self-doubt and loneliness which she’d felt over the past months.

  Sol was deeply shaken.

  And when she happened to notice the scars on Liv’s arm and was told they came from whippings with a horsewhip, Sol was absolutely furious. She forgot her good manners and burst into a tirade of oaths that would make a sailor blush. She spat them out.

  Liv, aghast, sat holding her breath.

  When she was finished, Sol pulled her up from the sofa.

  “Come,” she said. “Dag’s ship will be arriving soon. We’ll go down to the harbour and pick him up.”

  “Dag? Is Dag coming here?”

  “Yes, we’re supposed to meet him here in Oslo.”

  “Dag ...” murmured Liv, “will Miss Trolle be with him?”

  “Miss Trolle doesn’t mean anything to him.”

  “But I thought ...”

  “Oh, it was nothing but gossip. Dag has had no time for anything else but his studies. Maybe just a little flirtation once or twice, like everybody else.”

  “But I’m not allowed to go out. I haven’t asked for permission.”

  “Asked for permission? There’s nothing like that in our family. You go where you want to, when you want to ... and you’re only accountable to yourself.”

  For one fleeting moment, Sol wondered if she would be able to hold herself to account for some of the things she’d done – but that wasn’t important now.


  “Come on now, Liv ... and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  ***

  One hour later, Sol and Liv saw the ship moor alongside the quay. By that time they’d also managed to talk about everything other than Liv’s misfortunes, and she’d actually smiled for the first time in months.

  Even so, she jumped at the slightest sound and looked around to see whether she was being watched. She didn’t tell Sol, but Liv couldn’t help thinking what her husband and mother-in-law would say when they found out that she’d left the house without telling them.

  “Just blame me,” said Sol. “I can take it.”

  While they were watching the few passengers disembark, Sol studied her sister though the corner of her eye. So Liv was the one the old woman at Ansgar’s Klyfta had in mind. A member of your closest family is suffering, Sol was told.

  Sol’s eyelids closed a fraction and her brain began to work ...

  Then she saw a tall, elegant-looking man waving at them.

  “There he is,” shouted Liv. “Oh, Sol, what a wonderful day – imagine being allowed to meet you both at the same time! If only I could ...” she broke off, her hand flying to her mouth.

  “Come home with us?” said Sol, finishing the sentence for her. “Is that what you’d like?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I believe that loyalty is of the greatest importance in marriage, and I’m terribly ashamed that I’ve broken Berenius’ trust in me today.”

  “Thank goodness you spat it all out. By the way, loyalty works both ways, doesn’t it, Liv?”

  “But he’s so kind to me and has given me so much. He’s never been unfaithful even though he tells me that it’s his right. I shouldn’t ... Dag! It’s lovely to see you again.”

  Dag embraced both his sisters, first one and then the other.

  “So you managed to arrive before me, Sol. Well done! A lot of people send their greetings to you. They never had the chance to say goodbye. They’ve missed you, Sol. Mostly ... hmm ... young men. Hello Liv, my little one. It’s such a long time since I’ve seen you, isn’t it! But you’ve really lost weight. You look so thin and pale. Doesn’t your husband feed you properly?” asked Dag with a grin.

  Sol touched Dag’s arm in an urgent, serious gesture.

  “We have a serious situation on our hands, Dag,” she said quietly. “We must talk!”

  “Sol,” exclaimed Liv in despair. “You mustn’t!”

  “You bet I must! That wretch has tormented our sister. She’s unwell.”

  “No, Sol, please don’t.”

  “What’s this all about?” asked Dag, deeply concerned. “Tell me everything.”

  As they walked away from the harbour, Dag listened to the whole story delivered by a furious Sol. When she’d finished, he looked at both in shocked dismay.

  “Liv? The finest, and the best of us all, isn’t she, Sol?” asked Dag. “I know her better than most, and there’s no finer person. Who would dare to treat our sister like that?”

  Neither he nor Sol were true blood relatives of Liv, but when one of them had problems imposed on them from outside, they would close ranks and stand more firmly united than many ordinary families.

  “It’s not that bad, Dag,” said Liv. “Maybe I exaggerated.”

  “Exaggerated?” exclaimed Sol. “Just look at her arm, Dag. And as for her mother-in-law!”

  “We have to travel home,” decided Dag bitterly. “Tengel and Silje and Charlotte must hear of this ... and Liv, you must come with us.”

  “No, no,” she begged desperately. “I can’t.”

  “Yes,” insisted Dag. “I will arrange transport at once. Are you ready to leave, Sol?”

  “No, I must fetch my ... Oh, gosh! I’ve forgotten all about Meta again!”

  “Meta?” repeated the other two simultaneously.

  “Well, she’s only got herself to blame. It’s as if she was born to be forgotten,” said Sol.

  Then she told them all about Meta.

  When she had finished, Dag shook his head in disbelief. “You’re really a mystery, Sol. I’ve seen you with a heart made of stone do the most awful things to Tengel’s patients – amputating legs with no regard for their screams; open stinking wounds; picking up pieces of rotting corpses – all without as much as batting an eyelid! Then some unfortunate young girl appears and you act like a heroine, full of compassion. Of course, the poor thing must come with us to Linden Avenue or Graastensholm now.”

  “Yes, and Liv’s right. She shouldn’t be travelling home with us now. This would provoke her husband too much, and we don’t want her beaten anymore.”

  “But I intend to have a word or two with this man,” said Dag sternly.

  “No,” said Sol. “That’s the worst thing you could do. Now let me sort this out! Liv, you hurry home quickly before anyone returns – it’s not far. You, Dag, must find us transport to Linden Avenue while I fetch Meta. It’s a bit of a distance to the inn where she’s waiting for me.”

  That last piece of information was a lie – the inn was just round the corner, but Sol had other plans.

  “Then I’ll meet you at the town gates and bring Meta with me. Now Liv, you must carry on being the good-natured wife until we’ve spoken to our parents about all this. Be gentle and subdued like a lamb! See you soon!”

  Sol hurried away and soon disappeared from sight round a corner. Liv and Dag continued walking slowly along the street together, almost dragging their feet to make the walk take as much time as possible. Liv completely forgot that she should hurry.

  “There isn’t much Mum and Dad can do,” she said quietly.

  “Maybe not, but he ought to receive a good telling off.”

  Liv sighed. “I’d only suffer for it.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  Soon they were strolling hand in hand as they’d always done. Trying to sound cheerful, Dag told her of the life he’d been leading in Copenhagen – but in his heart he felt nothing but dull, helpless despair. A husband always had the law on his side. Was young Liv, the little sister who’d followed Dag like an admiring shadow throughout their childhood and adolescence, now to be made to suffer for the rest of her life? Dag had an inexplicable feeling that he was in some way to blame for her fate.

  They walked on in silence for a few minutes before Dag asked: “Where is your husband’s office?”

  Liv stopped. “No, you mustn’t go there, Dag. Please don’t!”

  “I’m simply dying to tell him a few home truths – or to be quite honest, beat him black and blue!”

  “Dag, please don’t! Please don’t do anything!”

  He stopped and took her face in his hands. “No, I shan’t,” he promised. “Let’s see what Sol comes up with. She’s usually quite inventive.”

  For a long time he stood looking deeply into Liv’s eyes – as they said goodbye. Neither could ignore the look of sadness in the other’s eyes. Dag promised her that she’d receive news from home and then they reluctantly went their separate ways.

  Liv stood watching him until he was out of sight. As she made her way back to the fine house, she felt invigorated from seeing her siblings but also terribly frightened at the punishment she’d be subject to if her husband ever found out that she’d left the house.

  ***

  Meanwhile Sol hadn’t wasted her time at all. She quickly hired the most elegant coach in the whole of Oslo and ordered the driver to take her to Mr. Samuelsen the draper’s house. Sitting in the coach, she adjusted her dress so that she looked as nice and elegant as possible. This wasn’t very difficult as her best dress was one that Countess Strahlenhelm had passed on to her and the latest fashion compared to the standard in Oslo. As she travelled, she rummaged through her occult possessions and put something in her pocket.

  When they arrived at the draper’s house, she asked the dri
ver to announce her as Countess Thott from Copenhagen. She knew there were so many Thotts that it would be impossible to keep track of them all. The driver climbed the steps to the front door and in no time the ‘countess’ had been allowed in. Sol made a dramatic entrance, sweeping her skirts about her, looking very elegant in her smart dress and a hat that reflected Copenhagen’s current fashion.

  The draper’s wife, Mrs. Samuelsen, curtseyed and scraped, and scraped and curtseyed for all she was worth, welcoming her aristocratic guest into her frugal merchant’s house. She was desperately trying to think what had brought about this visit.

  Sol glided into the drawing room. Her posture straight and tall and with a patronising smile, she gazed in turn at each of the ladies sitting before her. In her best Danish accent – not perfect, but unlikely to be noticed – she asked her hostess to introduce each of her nice guests by name.

  Mrs. Samuelsen was delighted to do so and Sol took special note as to which of them was Mrs. Berenius, Liv’s mother-in-law. They had never met as Sol had not been present at Liv’s wedding. On seeing her, Sol’s first thought was “what a battle-axe!” So this was the person that took such pleasure in bullying one of the most lovable girls in Norway. This mountain of flesh of a bitter, old woman with a whining voice, slumped in front of her. Oh, how poor Liv must have suffered! Still smiling, however, Sol turned her attention smoothly back towards her hostess once more.

  “Ah yes, Mrs. Samuelsen. I’ve come here straight from the Royal Palace.” The sound of the ladies all drawing breath at once was overwhelming.

  “While I was there, I spoke with my dear friend, Count Lowenbrander, and he asked me to call on you.” Sol could say this in the certain knowledge that there was no count by that name. “He told me that in his younger days he’d fallen very much in love with you, but that circumstances within the family meant that he couldn’t propose to you. Nevertheless, he’s never forgotten you, Mrs. Samuelsen, and he asked me to tell you! Now ladies, isn’t that truly romantic?”