This Shining Land

by Rosalind Laker

  She put a hand to her throat, touched deeply by the significance of what he had said. It was an old tradition, still held to in many districts, that a bride received a love-gift the morning after the wedding night. It was always a piece of jewellery. “Shouldn’t it be given at dawn?”

  There was regret in his low-voiced answer. “I’ll not be here at dawn.”

  “I had forgotten that,” she whispered huskily.

  As he left the bed to take the gift from a pocket she sat up to clasp her hands around her updrawn knees. He returned to her side and handed her a small package. Propping himself on an elbow, he watched her unfold the tissue paper.

  Her face became radiant as she gazed in a surge of delight at what she saw. It was a long string of finely shaped stones, intricately capped and linked with gold, and polished by him to a point where they were almost iridescent, the blended greys and pearly tones and tints of pink proclaiming their origin. Hours of skill and care had gone into bringing them to such a point of perfection.

  “They’re from Saeter Lake!” It was the mountain lake within the great range that linked his home with hers and which they had discussed on the day he had left for the war. “It’s a wonderful gift.”

  “It should have been diamonds.”

  “No!” She meant it, holding the necklace to her. His thoughts of her and his love had gone into every one of those exquisite stones. Raising the necklace up entwined in her fingers, she offered it to him. “Please put it on for me.”

  He took it from her and slipped it over her head. It hung down to the cleavage of her breasts. She sprang from the bed to go across and admire her new necklace in a mirror on the wall. He thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight than this lovely naked girl preening before her own reflection.

  She came back to him in the bed. Lying on her stomach and propping herself on her elbows, she looked down into his face, her own having become serious and intent. “I’m going to England with you.”

  He cupped her bare shoulders with his hands caressingly. “I’ve been thinking along the same lines. It was in my mind all the time on my journey here to you, but the odds are against us. Not the danger, which I know you’re willing to risk with me; it’s the opposition we would meet from the Norwegian diplomats in Stockholm. Passages and transport are difficult enough for them to arrange. They’ll send me as a fighting machine, but they’ll not give a place on the list to a woman in preference to the men waiting to get away.”

  Her head sank down against his shoulder in wrenching disappointment. She could not dispute his argument. Briefly she had had a dream of being with him, of being trained in England to do something worthwhile when the time of liberation came. Instead, if she went with him into Sweden she would remain as an internee, cut off as much from her family and friends as from him. She would have to let him go without her. The pain of parting shot agonisingly through her. Involuntarily her arms enclosed the back of his neck as if by some means she might prevent all distance coming between them. He responded passionately, almost violently, seized by the same despair at the imminence of separation. Their love-making was urgent and ecstatic and yet at the same time poignantly bitter-sweet, bringing them still closer together.

  Then it was time for him to depart. When they were both dressed, he took her into his arms for a last, long kiss. Talking was over. All that was left to say to each other was in his eyes and in hers. Hand in hand they went from the room and down the stairs.

  “Farewell, my love,” Steffen whispered to her. They kissed for the last time. Pulling on his thick gloves, he left the house. She remained on the threshold in the unlit doorway, shivering in the icy air while he clicked on his skis. Then with a wave to her he was away, swishing across the snow, and was lost from her sight almost at once in the early morning darkness.

  Quietly she closed the door and rested her forehead against it. With all her heart she wished she could have gone with him.

  Chapter 4

  Steffen had been gone two months. Winter still had a hard grip on the land. To Johanna, Oslo seemed to get bleaker with every passing day. Most of her spare time was spent in food queues, sometimes she and Sonja taking turns lining up with each other’s ration books.

  She missed the familiar blue uniform of the police, which had once been part of the city scene. Now the newly formed Quisling police and ordinary police alike wore German-style military uniforms which added their own sombre colour to the streets. She knew that many ordinary policemen hid their true patriotism in order to give advance warning to those about to be arrested by the Nazis. On police stations and all the government buildings the German eagle had appeared, moulded with great wing-spans over entrances and archways as if to endorse the ever-present black swastika.

  All the store windows had a hollow look. Many that had once displayed fine wares had little more to offer than handmade wooden items. The goldsmiths displayed notices that objects of precious metal were for sale only if customers could supply the same weight of those metals in exchange. She knew that Steffen had handed in his gold cuff-links in order to get the jeweller to link up with gold the stones of the necklace that she wore so often.

  At the fur shop it still came as a minor shock to her eyes to see a renovated fur coat of indiscriminate origin in the window where once a sumptuous garment would have been displayed. A printed card suggested to passers-by that old furs should be repaired and restyled. In the salon itself there were only photographs of furs on the velvet-covered podiums, and the glass-fronted cupboards were almost empty.

  She had no idea, when she went home one Friday after work, that she would find the Alsteens back at Grefsen. They had returned without advance notice. At the sound of her door key turning in the lock, Anna came darting across the hall to embrace her. Johanna, overjoyed at their return, had to hide her shock at her friend’s changed appearance. A plump and sturdy little woman when she had left, she had lost a lot of weight; moreover constant anxiety over many months had ravaged her gentle features and streaked grey thickly into her auburn hair.

  “My dear child!” Anna’s tears were flowing. “Who ever would have thought it would be so long before Viktor and I should get home again? And how well you’ve looked after everything. I’m most grateful.”

  Johanna, moved to tears herself, patted the woman’s shoulder. “I did nothing. It’s just wonderful that you’re here at last and can be under your own roof again. Where’s Viktor?”

  “In bed. The drive all the way from Drammen tired him even though it was in an ambulance. Go up and see him. He’s not asleep.”

  Johanna removed her outdoor clothes as she ran up the stairs. Throwing them over the baluster rail on the landing, she went straight to the Alsteens’ bedroom. The door was open and Viktor was propped against the pillows, his eyes closed. Compassion choked her throat. He was not much changed during his absence, having always been a thin man of great presence and dignity, who had been made frail by his stroke and general disabilities. The thought that moved Johanna to fresh tears was that such a harmless gentleman, in the true sense of the word, should have been a target for Nazi vindictiveness, depriving him for so many months from his right to be in his own home. He must have heard her step, for he opened his eyes, his singularly sweet smile lighting his pale, almost transparent features.

  “It’s Johanna. Prettier than ever. How are you? Come and tell me how you’ve been passing the time since I last saw you.” His speech was, if anything, slightly more halting than before.

  She ran forward to sit on the bed and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Then she took his hand into hers. It seemed to have no weight. “I’m still at the fur shop. There’s not much business these days due to a lack of supplies. Skins are hard to come by now. Some workshop staff have been kept on to deal with repairs and to make up whatever skins are available, but the salon staff has been reduced to Sonja on her own.”

  After she had talked a little longer, she made a move to get up, not wanting to add to his
tiredness with too much conversation. Unexpectedly he caught at her sleeve with his stronger right hand. “Don’t go yet. I have so little time in which to talk to you. We’re leaving again tomorrow. My brother-in-law, Anders, has arranged everything.”

  She thought the strain of the journey had caused him to be confused and she smiled reassuringly. “You’re home to stay now.”

  “No, my dear.” He was quite firm. “Anna and I are going to Sweden. It’s safe for me there. She wants to get me away while there’s still time.”

  In distress she caught up the hand she held and pressed it to her cheek. “You’re Norwegian born and bred, Viktor!”

  “By birth, but not by race, dear child. That makes a difference to the Nazis. If Anna and I are to spend whatever time is left to us together, we must leave as arranged. Otherwise we shall be separated and never see each other again.”

  Then, in spite of his request that she should stay, he closed his eyes and slept, dropping off into the kind of nap indulged in by the elderly. Gently Johanna released his hand from hers and laid it on the coverlet. Then she went downstairs and faced Anna in the kitchen. She had no need to say anything. Anna sank into the nearest chair. “He’s told you, I can see.”

  Johanna took hold of the back of another chair and swung it forward to sit facing her. “Has Viktor been threatened?”

  “Many times. I can’t speak of the verbal abuse we received from the Germans in the streets.” Anna’s restless movements and the nervous twitching about her mouth showed that she was not far from a nervous collapse from all she had been through on her husband’s behalf. It would not need much more for a complete breakdown. “I had to stop taking him out in his wheelchair. What we should have done without Anders I don’t know. Apart from his personal protection as head surgeon at the local hospital, he seems to have contact with the new movement of resistance that’s growing up. I don’t know how he managed it, but he finally got a permit for us to travel. The ambulance was a bonus for which he is totally responsible.”

  “How are you getting into Sweden?”

  “I have papers stating I have permission to take Viktor to a hospital not far from the Swedish border, and transport will call for us tomorrow morning.” Anna became very tense. “I have papers for you, too. I was hoping that you would come with us.”

  Johanna stared at her. “Why do you want me to go with you?”

  “Viktor will have to be pulled in a sled across the snow. I’ll be on skis. We shall have a guide but it would be a great comfort to me to have your company.” Her lips trembled. “I’m so afraid and you’re so young and strong.”

  Leaving the chair, Johanna dropped to a knee in front of Anna, taking hold of the woman’s arms and looking up into her face. “I’ll do anything I can to help you. You’ve always been good to me. I’ve never forgotten how kind you were when I first came to Oslo, making your home mine. I’ll come right to the Swedish border with you and see you across, but don’t ask me to leave Norway. I couldn’t do it. I have to stay.”

  Anna shook her head in agitation. “I can’t let you run into danger for my sake and Viktor’s, only to return here and face the consequences of our departure. It won’t be long before the German authorities check to see if Viktor is at the hospital or still in residence at Grefsen. Please forget I asked you. I should never have done it.”

  Johanna straightened up. “It’s all settled. As long as I’m back in good time to go to work on Monday morning, nobody need know that I’ve ever been away. If it should come out I would say that I saw you to the hospital as requested and left you there. I assume the driver of your transport will back up whatever story I give?”

  “Oh, yes. Anders told me he would be someone we could trust completely.” Again Anna began to give way to nerves and Johanna made her calm again, insisting on having the arrangements explained carefully and clearly in every detail. Then she examined the papers that had been made out in her name.

  An ambulance arrived the next day at the appointed time. The driver was a young man with a cheerful freckled face and a shock of ash-blond hair. He helped Viktor into the back of the ambulance, saw that he was comfortable with pillows and blankets, and then sprang out to help Anna into it. She travelled in the back with her husband while Johanna sat beside the driver.

  “Here we go then,” he announced, setting off. “I’m Kristofer Olsen.”

  She gave her name in turn. “Do you work for an Oslo hospital?”

  He chuckled. “I’m a medical student. I’ve never driven an ambulance before. After today this ambulance will go back to its depot and nobody will be any the wiser.” He glanced at her. “Why are you going to Sweden? Has the Gestapo got something on you?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I just promised my friends I’d see them right to the border. I’ll be coming back with you.”

  He looked startled. “You want me to wait? That could be tricky.”

  She was worried. “It’s important I return to Oslo quickly. There’s no other way I can do it.”

  He gave a thoughtful whistle under his breath. “Well, I guess we can fix it somehow!”

  “Thanks!” she exclaimed gratefully.

  “That’s okay.”

  When a roadblock loomed ahead, he shot a quick look at her. “You’re not wearing a paper clip today, are you? We don’t want any unnecessary hold-ups with the guards.”

  “I thought of that. I have mine in my pocket.”

  “Good girl.” He drew up at the roadblock. A German guard came to the window and asked for the papers. Kristofer handed over Johanna’s and his own before jumping out to go to the back of the ambulance and let the guard see for himself that only a sick man and his wife were inside. The guard returned the papers. They were in order; three in party, plus the driver, on an authorised journey. He signalled and the striped barrier was raised to let the ambulance through.

  Kristofer heaved a sigh of satisfaction. “That’s the first hurdle behind us. Let’s hope the rest will go as well.”

  They were stopped three more times before they reached the hospital, but there was no trouble. The early darkness of the winter afternoon closed down on them and the blacked-out headlights gave out a thin ray of light through slits, making the frosty road sparkle ahead of them. It was snowing lightly. Kristofer checked the final details with her.

  “I’ll go into the hospital with Viktor, you and Anna too. He has to walk. That’s most important, so I must be quick to get him out of the ambulance before any stretcher bearers come out to meet us. We go to a waiting room which has two entrances. We leave the Alsteens there and you must be seen to leave with me. I’ll make sure we’re remembered in Reception. Anna and Viktor will leave the waiting room under their own steam by the other door which will take them to the far side of the hospital. Someone is waiting for them there. I’ll show you where I’ll be parked and waiting for you. Then you nip after the escaping party and catch up with them. Okay?”

  She grinned at his constant use of the American slang. “Okay,” she repeated.

  Anna, forewarned through the communicating panel, had Viktor sitting up and ready to get out when the ambulance stopped. Kristofer ran around the doors and almost lifted him out. Then the four of them went into the hospital. Luckily the reception desk was busy and they went through to the waiting room without being questioned. Two other people were waiting there and watched as Johanna bade the Alsteens farewell, saying she was sure all would go well for Viktor at the hospital.

  When she came out of the waiting room Kristofer was at the reception desk, joking with two nurses. When he saw Johanna he called out, “Ready to leave, Frøken Ryen?”

  “Yes, I am,” she replied.

  He had a final word with the nurses which left them both convulsed in giggles, and then swaggered to her where she waited by the door. Outside they both got back into the ambulance and he swung it around the hospital perimeter, pointing out the direction she had to follow and where she would find him again. He slowed down
just long enough for her to get out and then he drove off into the snowy darkness.

  She ran past an outbuilding and found skis waiting for her. The falling snow would soon obliterate the tracks she had to follow so she set off at once, leaving the hospital behind her and crossing a white stretch that would be a buttercup meadow when summer returned.

  There was an almost eerie beauty to the scene. The lazy pace of the descending snow created delicate patterns, and ahead the tall pines and firs of the forest stood like white inverted cones, taking on a new layer of lacy snowflakes like another coverlet. The air was colder than she had realised and was getting colder still, causing her breath to hang before her and crystallise on her lashes. At her home on the west coast, although hundreds of miles further north, the flow of the Gulf Stream gave far easier winters, temperatures never so low as in this part of the country.

  She found the Alsteens and their guide waiting for her under cover of the trees. Viktor was cosily ensconced on the sled, wrapped in blankets like a cocoon, and the guide, who did not give his name, had the straps of the sled securely over his shoulders.

  “Let’s go,” he said as soon as Johanna reached them. He began to ski effortlessly ahead and the runners of the drawn sled skimmed easily over the crisp snow. Anna followed him, all her old skills on skis revived in practise for this escape before she left Drammen. Johanna brought up the rear. She was glad she had come, knowing that she had given Anna confidence to face this dreadful time of suspense and danger.

  There was no sound except the swish of skis and the sometimes ghostly creaking of a bough bending under the weight of snow. The guide stopped at certain intervals to allow a rest out of consideration for Anna who, in her mid-fifties, could not be expected to keep up the pace that he and Johanna could share. Anna was feeling the strain but she would not admit to it, unaware that the patchy colour of her face gave her away. Once the guide produced a vacuum flask of hot coffee, and she stooped down to hold a cup solicitously to Viktor’s lips in order that he should not bring his good hand out into the intense cold.