The Storm Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Excuse me, Herr Bayer,’ Anna couldn’t help butting in, ‘but I am already proficient in both.’

  ‘Then that is a help and will mean we can get down to the business of training your voice faster than I’d expected. So, Anna, will you say yes?’

  Anna desperately wanted to ask why: why did he want to pay her parents to spend his time nurturing both her and her voice, let alone have her to stay with him in his apartment? But as no one else seemed to question it, she didn’t feel it was her place to do so either.

  ‘But Christiania is such a long way away and a year is such a long time . . .’ Anna’s voice trailed off as the enormity of what was being suggested suddenly hit her. Everything she knew – had known – up until now would no longer be. She was a simple girl from a farm in Heddal, and even though she’d considered her life and future to be dull, the leap she was being asked to make with only a few seconds’ consideration suddenly felt too much for her.

  ‘Well . . .’

  Four pairs of eyes fell upon her.

  ‘I . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ asked her parents and Herr Bayer in unison.

  ‘When I’ve gone, please promise me that if Rosa dies, you won’t eat her.’

  And with that, Anna Landvik promptly burst into tears.

  14

  After Herr Bayer’s departure, the Landvik home erupted into a hive of activity. Her mother began sewing Anna a valise in which she would carry her few possessions to Christiania. Her two best skirts and blouses, plus her undergarments, were washed and mended with the utmost care, for, as Berit said, no daughter of hers would look like a common peasant amongst those high-nosed city folk. Fru Erslev, the pastor’s wife, gave her a new prayer book with crisp white pages, reminding her to say grace every night and not to be seduced by the ‘heathen’ ways of the city. It had been arranged that Pastor Erslev was to meet her at Drammen and escort her on the train to Christiania, as he had an ecclesiastical meeting he was travelling there to attend.

  As for Anna herself, she found she barely had a spare moment to sit down and think through her decision. Whenever she felt niggling doubts creep in, she did her best to push them aside. Her mother had told her that Lars was coming to see her tomorrow and she felt her heart knocking painfully against her chest as she recalled her parents’ whispered discussions about their marriage. It seemed that whatever lay in her future, whether it was here in Heddal or in Christiania, other people were making the decisions for her.

  ‘Lars has arrived,’ said Berit the next morning, as though she thought that Anna herself had not been listening anxiously for the sound of his boots stamping off the mud from the September rain. ‘I will open the door. Why don’t you receive him in the parlour?’

  Anna nodded, knowing that the parlour was the ‘serious’ room. It housed the settle, their one piece of upholstered furniture, as well as a glass-fronted cabinet containing a mix of plates and small ornaments that her mother thought good enough to put on display. It had also housed the coffins of three of her grandparents when they had departed this world. As she walked along the narrow corridor towards it, Anna reflected that during her lifetime, the room had very rarely accommodated anyone that actually breathed. And as she opened the door, a puff of stale and closeted air escaped.

  The conversation she was about to have presumably warranted these sober surroundings and she stood wondering exactly where she should place herself for when Lars entered. Hearing the heavy footsteps along the passage, Anna quickly moved to sit down on the settle, the cushions atop it almost as hard as the planks of pine that supported them.

  There was a knock on the door and Anna had a sudden urge to giggle. Never before had anyone requested her permission to enter a room that wasn’t her bedroom.

  ‘Yes?’ she replied.

  The door opened and her mother’s round face appeared. ‘Lars is here.’

  Anna watched as he entered the room. He had made an effort to brush down his thick blond hair and was wearing his best cream shirt and black breeches that he usually only wore to church, plus a waistcoat she hadn’t seen before – midnight blue in colour, which Anna thought went well with his eyes. She supposed he was really quite handsome, but then, she also thought that about Knut, her own brother. And she certainly wouldn’t want to marry him.

  The two of them hadn’t seen each other since Lars had handed her Peer Gynt, and she swallowed nervously as she remembered his hand holding hers. She stood up to greet him. ‘Hello, Lars.’

  ‘Would you like some coffee, Lars?’ Berit asked him from the doorway.

  ‘N-no, thank you, Fru Landvik.’

  ‘Well then,’ her mother said after a pause, ‘I’ll leave you alone to talk.’

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ Anna asked Lars once Berit had left.

  ‘Yes,’ he said and did so.

  Anna perched awkwardly at the other end of the settle, her hands knotting in her lap.

  ‘Anna’ – Lars cleared his throat – ‘do you know why I’m here?’

  ‘Because you’re always here?’ she offered, and he gave a soft laugh at her response, breaking the tension a little.

  ‘Yes, I suppose I am. How has your summer been?’

  ‘Like every summer before it and none the worse for that.’

  ‘But surely this summer has been a special one for you?’ he persisted.

  ‘You mean because of Herr Bayer? The man from Christiania?’

  ‘Yes, Fru Erslev has been telling everyone. She’s very proud of you . . . and so am I,’ he added. ‘I think you are probably the most famous person in the whole of Telemark county. Apart from Herr Ibsen, of course. So you will go?’

  ‘Well, Far and Mor think it’s a wonderful opportunity for me. They tell me I’m honoured to have a man such as Herr Bayer willing to help me.’

  ‘Indeed, they are right. But I’d like to know if you want to go?’

  Anna pondered this.

  ‘I think I must,’ she said. ‘It would be very rude to refuse, don’t you agree? Especially as he travelled for a whole day up the hills to hear me sing.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it would.’ Lars looked beyond her to the wall fashioned out of heavy pine logs and stared at the picture of Lake Skisjøen that hung there. There was a long silence, which Anna didn’t know whether to break or not. Finally, Lars turned his attention back to her.

  ‘Anna.’

  ‘Yes, Lars?’

  He took a deep breath and she noticed that he gripped the side of the armrest of the settle to stop his hand from shaking. ‘Before you left for the summer, I talked with your father about the possibility of asking for your hand in . . . marriage. We agreed I would sell him my family’s land and that we would farm it together. Did you know of any of this?’

  ‘I’ve overheard my parents talking about it,’ she confessed.

  ‘Before Herr Bayer came, what was your opinion of the plan?’

  ‘You mean about Far buying the land?’

  ‘No’ – Lars allowed himself an ironic smile – ‘I meant about marrying me.’

  ‘Well, to be truthful, I didn’t think that you did want to marry me. You’ve never mentioned it.’

  Lars looked at her in surprise. ‘Anna, surely you must have had some idea of my feelings for you? For most of last winter, I was here night after night helping you with your letters.’

  ‘But Lars, you’ve always been here, ever since I was small. You’re . . . like my brother.’

  A flash of pain crossed his face. ‘The point is, Anna, I love you.’

  She looked at Lars in amazement. She had assumed that he would see any proposed union as a matter of convenience, especially as she was hardly a catch, what with her limited domestic abilities. After all, from what she’d seen in her short life, most marriages seemed to be based on this premise. But now Lars had told her that he loved her . . . which was something different all together.

  ‘That is most kind of you, Lars. To love me, I mean.’

  ‘It
is not “kind” Anna, it is . . .’ He broke off, looking lost and confused. In the long silence, Anna contemplated how quiet their supper conversation would be if they did marry. Lars would likely concentrate on his food, and that really wouldn’t be a good thing.

  ‘I wish to know, Anna, if Herr Bayer had not asked you to go with him to Christiania, whether you would have accepted a proposal of marriage?’

  As she thought of all he had done to help her last winter and how fond of him she was, she knew there was only one answer she could give.

  ‘I would have said yes.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, relief obvious in his expression. ‘So, your father and I have agreed that, given the circumstances, the contracts for the purchase of my family’s land will be drawn up immediately. Then I will wait for you for a year whilst you go to Christiania. Once you return, I will formally propose to you.’

  At this, Anna began to panic. Lars had misunderstood. If he had asked her if she loved him like he said he loved her, she would have replied that she didn’t.

  ‘Anna, do you agree?’

  Silence hung over the parlour as Anna tried to gather her thoughts.

  ‘I hope that you can learn to love me as I do you,’ he said quietly. ‘And perhaps one day, we will travel to America together and begin a new life there. Now, this is for you, as a seal on our unofficial promise to each other. More useful than a ring, at least for now, I think.’ He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a long, thin wooden box and gave it to her.

  ‘I . . . thank you.’ Brushing her fingers over the polished wood, Anna opened it. Nestled inside lay the most beautiful writing pen she had ever seen, and she knew it must have cost him dearly. The pen holder was carved out of a light pine, elegantly curved to fit perfectly into her hand, and the nib ended in a delicate point. She held it just as Lars had taught her to. Even if she didn’t love him or want to marry him, his gift touched her heart and made her eyes brim with tears.

  ‘Lars, it is the finest thing I have ever owned.’

  ‘I will wait for you, Anna,’ he said. ‘And perhaps you can use the ink pen to write me letters describing your new life in Christiania?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And you agree we will become formally betrothed next year when you are returned from Christiania?’

  Feeling the full force of his love and looking down at her beautiful ink pen, Anna felt she could only say one thing.

  ‘Yes.’

  His face broke into a wide smile. ‘Then I am content. Now, we will go and announce to your parents that we have reached an agreement.’ Lars stood up, and took her hand in his. He bent his head towards it and kissed it. ‘My Anna. Let us hope that God treats us both kindly.’

  Two days later, all disturbing thoughts of Lars and what would happen in a year’s time were wiped from Anna’s mind as she rose early to embark on the long journey to Christiana. Feeling sick with nerves, she could barely force down the special pancakes that her mother had made her for breakfast. As Anders announced it was time to be on their way, Anna stood up, her legs feeling like goat’s cheese beneath her. Glancing around the cosy kitchen one last time, she felt a sudden desperate urge to unpack her valise and call the whole thing off.

  ‘It’s all right, kjære,’ Berit said, stroking Anna’s long curls to calm her as they embraced, ‘you’ll be back to visit before you know it. Just don’t forget to say your prayers every night, attend church on Sunday and brush your hair properly.’

  ‘Mor, stop your fussing or she’ll never get there,’ said Knut dryly, taking his sister in his arms. ‘And don’t forget to have lots of fun,’ he whispered in her ear, before thumbing the tears from her cheeks.

  Her father drove her in their horse and cart to the town of Drammen – almost a day’s journey away – from where she would take a train to the city with Pastor Erslev. They stayed overnight in a modest guesthouse that also had stabling for the horse, so that they could be up bright and early to get to the railway station in plenty of time for Anna’s train.

  Pastor Erslev was waiting on the platform, which was crowded with fellow travellers. When the train finally chugged in, she felt overwhelmed by the hissing plumes of steam and the noise of the screeching brakes as the passengers hurried to climb on-board. Anders helped her with the capacious valise as they followed the pastor towards the train.

  ‘Far, I’m so scared,’ she whispered.

  ‘My Anna, if you find yourself unhappy, you can simply come home,’ he replied gently, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek. ‘Now, let’s get you settled on-board.’

  They mounted the steps of the train then made their way through the carriage to find seats for the two travellers. After Anders had hoisted her valise onto the metal rack above her head, the guard blew his whistle and her father bent down swiftly to kiss Anna goodbye. ‘Make sure you write to Lars regularly so we can all hear how you are getting on and remember what an honour has been bestowed upon you. Show those city folk that their country brethren know how to behave.’

  ‘I will, Far, I promise.’

  ‘Good girl. We will see you at Christmas. The Lord bless you, and keep you safe. Goodbye.’

  ‘Rest assured I will deliver her into Herr Bayer’s safekeeping,’ Pastor Erslev said as he shook hands with Anders.

  Anna did her best not to cry as her father left the train, coming alongside to wave her off through the window. But the train moved forward with a jolt and her father’s face soon disappeared into the clouds of steam.

  As Pastor Erslev opened his prayer book, Anna amused herself by looking round the carriage at the other occupants and felt suddenly conspicuous in her traditional dress. The rest of the men and women wore smart town clothes, making Anna feel exactly like the peasant she was. Reaching inside the pockets of her skirt, she pulled out the letter that Lars had given her yesterday when they’d said their farewells. He’d made her promise not to read it until she was on her way. Exaggerating the movement, just to show the other residents of the carriage that she might be a country girl but that she could read, Anna opened the seal.

  The words in front of her, scripted in Lars’ neat writing, presented her with a challenge, but she doggedly persevered.

  Stalsberg Våningshuset

  Tindevegan

  Heddal

  18th September 1875

  Kjære Anna,

  I wished to tell you I am proud of you. Take every opportunity you can to improve your voice and your knowledge of the wider world outside Heddal. Do not be fearful of it, and remember that underneath the fine clothes and the different ways of those you will meet, they are only human beings like you and I.

  Meanwhile, I shall await you here, and long for the day you return. Please write to me to tell me you are safe in Christiania. We will all remain fascinated to hear any detail of your new life there.

  For now, know I am your loving, and ever faithful,

  Lars.

  Anna folded the letter carefully and replaced it in her pocket. She found it difficult to equate the physical being of Lars, who was so awkward and quiet, with the flowing eloquence of the words he had written in the letter. As the train chugged towards Christiania and she watched Pastor Erslev dozing in the seat opposite her, a small drip of moisture hanging perilously from the end of his nose and never quite falling, Anna quashed the surge of panic she felt every time she thought of her forthcoming marriage. However, a year was a very long time in which many things might happen. People could be struck by lightning, or catch a bad chest cold and die. She might die, she thought, as the train lurched to the right suddenly. And with that thought, Anna closed her eyes and tried to take some rest.

  ‘Good day, Pastor Erslev! And my dear Frøken Landvik, allow me to welcome you to Christiania. May I ask the favour of calling you Anna, given that we will be living in such close quarters?’ Herr Bayer asked her as he took her valise and helped her down from the train.

  ‘Yes, of course, sir,’ Anna replied shyl
y.

  ‘How was your journey, Pastor Erslev?’ Herr Bayer asked the elderly priest as he limped along the bustling platform beside them.

  ‘It was comfortable, thank you. Now, my duty is done and I can see Pastor Eriksonn waiting for me,’ he said as he gave a wave to a small bald man dressed in identical robes to himself. ‘So I will say goodbye, Anna.’

  ‘Goodbye, Pastor Erslev.’

  Anna watched the last link to all she had ever known disappear through the gates of the station and out onto a busy road where a number of horse-drawn carriages were waiting.

  ‘Here, we too will hire one of these to speed us home. Normally I take the tram, but I fear it may be too much for you after your long journey.’

  Having issued instructions to the driver, Herr Bayer helped Anna inside. As she sat down on the bench, upholstered in a soft red fabric and far more comfortable than her family’s special settle at home, she felt thrilled to be travelling in such opulent style.

  ‘It is only a short ride to my apartment,’ Herr Bayer commented. ‘And my housekeeper has prepared us some supper. You must be hungry after your journey.’

  Anna secretly hoped that the journey in the carriage would take a very long time. She pushed aside the little brocade curtains and peered out of the window in wonder as they rode into the centre of the city. Rather than the rough narrow tracks that criss-crossed the town of Skien, here the thoroughfares were wide, tree-lined and very busy. They passed a horse-drawn tram, its passengers dressed smartly, the mens’ heads crowned with shiny top hats and the womens’ with extravagant creations adorned with flowers and ribbons. Anna tried to imagine herself wearing the same and suppressed a giggle.

  ‘Of course there is much to discuss,’ Herr Bayer went on, ‘but we have plenty of time until . . .’

  ‘Until what, sir?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Oh, until you are ready to greet a wider public, my dear young lady. Now, here we are.’ He opened the window and called out to the driver to pull the carriage over. As he helped Anna step out and then collected her valise, she looked up at the tall stone building whose many floors with glinting windows seemed to stretch high up to the heavens above her.