The Stepdaughter

by Margit Sandemo

  Sol lay impatiently behind the sacks while she peered down at the street and the doorway below. Then finally during the afternoon she saw Laurents Berenius arrive and hurry into the building. Now all that was needed was for him to come out and inspect his assets. This he was bound to do from the doorway.

  Sol had to wait for a long time. She couldn’t allow herself to stay away from home another day or they’d begin to worry. More than anything else, she didn’t want them to become suspicious of her.

  As she continued her vigil, she used all her willpower to make Laurents Berenius come to the front door.

  There he was! His head was showing – but not quite enough. Then he moved forward a pace or two.

  “Now stop just there!” said Sol slowly and deliberately to herself.

  As she prepared herself for the final move, she shifted her position slightly, but at that moment Laurents turned unexpectedly and walked away in the direction of the harbour. For some time Sol was unable to see him from her hiding place and didn’t know what he was doing. As she waited, she realised that because of the tension her fingernails were cutting deep into the palms of her hands. Then, almost immediately, he reappeared, walking quickly back towards the building in the company of another man. “Stop beneath the hatch, stop beneath the hatch!” she said to herself.

  And this time they did – but when they stopped, the wrong man stood in the right place.

  Sol had to wait again.

  “Change places! Change places!”

  This time she whispered the command very softly. Although she might not be able to move the sack by using her powers, Sol felt sure that at the very least she would be able to get the two men to obey her suggestions.

  She could see that they were caught up in a lively discussion, both pointing and gesticulating in turn.

  From her hiding place only the tops of their heads were visible – and she noticed that Berenius was beginning to go bald.

  But wait! They were moving again and now Laurents Berenius was in exactly the right spot!

  There was still a chance that he would move again after the sack had started to fall, so she delivered one final incantation under her breath.

  “Stand still, Laurents Berenius. Please stand very still!”

  Using all her strength, she pushed the sack forward. It toppled slowly, teetering for a long time on the edge – then fell.

  Laurents turned round but didn’t look up. For a second, Sol stood motionless with panic, then, as she dared not stay a moment longer, she leaped across the attic, jumped down onto the roof below and then dashed across the roof of the adjoining building, just as she’d planned.

  Moments later, she was back out on the street, observing from a distance the great commotion outside the doorway of the Berenius building before she headed quietly away in the opposite direction and soon disappeared round the corner.

  The sack had been very heavy – in fact, much heavier than she’d expected. As far as Sol could see, there was very little of Laurents Berenius still in one piece.

  Chapter 10

  Sol was back home at dusk. The first to greet her was Silje. She could tell by the expression on her face that something was disturbing the whole household.

  “Sol, I’m glad that you’re back. We’ve just received a letter from Liv to say that her mother-in-law has passed away from a heart attack. It seems she was visiting friends when it happened. Liv asks us not to go to the funeral, but I think we should travel to Oslo anyway. What do you think?”

  Sol, who still had Laurents’ death fresh in her mind, didn’t answer immediately. She was still struggling to find a sensible reply when Dag appeared and cut in on their conversation. “It’s surely her husband who’s told her to write like that.”

  Silje turned to him, bewildered. “Why? What makes you say that?”

  Sol changed the subject immediately. “When is the mother-in-law going to be buried?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  Now Liv is all by herself, thought Sol. There’s nobody in the house but the dead.

  “I think Liv needs us now,” she said softly. “We should go to Oslo, all of us who can.”

  “You’re right,” said Silje. “Let’s be ready to leave in the morning.”

  But late that evening, another letter arrived. This time the letter was brought to Linden Avenue by a messenger on horseback. It said that Laurents had also died, killed in a tragic accident at work, and the mother-in-law’s funeral was being delayed so that they could both be interred together.

  “Oh, that poor girl,” said Silje. “Imagine losing her wonderful husband after such a short time!”

  Dag, Charlotte and Sol all exchanged glances. Then Sol nodded meaningfully to Dag.

  “I think it was probably the best thing that could have happened,” said Dag gravely. Then in hushed tones he told the others everything they knew about Liv’s unhappy marriage.

  While he listened, Tengel’s face turned very pale.

  “Why haven’t you told us about this?” he demanded. “My little girl!”

  “We’ve only known the truth about it for barely a week,” replied Dag.

  Silje burst into tears.

  “Many times I’ve been so very sad that she hasn’t visited us or that she couldn’t or wouldn’t have us visit her. I’ve longed so much to see her – and always it was forbidden! Oh, Liv, my dear child!”

  “Yes, and we are also carrying a great burden because we’re to blame for the marriage,” said Charlotte. “I believe we talked her into it. She was made to understand that Laurents was the best choice for her.”

  “I’ll leave for Oslo first thing tomorrow morning,” said Silje. “I’ll stay with her until after the funeral and then bring her home.”

  “I’ll join you,” said Tengel.

  “Yes, do that,” said Sol. “And now I’m hungry! I’ll go and find someone and ask for some food. If they’ve all gone to bed, then I’ll make some myself.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “Yes, and so what? Must one always follow custom?” she retorted, and left them.

  After she’d left the room, everybody fell silent. They just sat and looked at each other with wondering expressions.

  “Sol is one of a kind,” Are piped up with a smile. “She’s never been one to follow custom.”

  As he stared into the distance, Dag said: “I believe we have a lot to thank Sol for.”

  “Yes,” said Charlotte with a thoughtful expression on her face. Memories were flooding back – the inn at Dovre – two assailants lying dead ...

  “She loves her family more than anything on this earth,” added Silje, remembering how a little two-year old Sol had induced Abelone’s horrible son to cut himself with a knife after he’d bullied Silje once too often. “She’ll do anything for us.”

  “Yes she would,” murmured Dag as he wondered just how Liv’s mother-in-law had died so suddenly and conveniently.

  Tengel said nothing. His eyes were focused on an unknown distant place. He knew more than the others. He’d seen the verger stagger helplessly towards his church after Sol had used Hanna’s poisoned barb on him – the same verger who’d threatened to expose Tengel as a sorcerer.

  “Sol asked us to wait a few days before telling you,” whispered Dag, mainly to himself.

  None of them wanted to look the others in the eye. An unspoken pact now existed between them to avoid any more questions about Tønsberg. They all knew that although each of them held a fragment or two of the puzzle, only Sol knew the whole truth ...

  Out in the kitchen, Sol was helping herself to a large chunk of bread. Her thoughts were not unlike those of the rest of the family. Now she’d sent yet another person to the hereafter.

  It had all begun with a horrible playmate in the Valley of the Ice People. That is, of course, if yo
u ignored Abelone’s son, which Sol considered merely an exercise in testing her occult skills. No one else was aware of the fate of the playmate who had tormented Dag and Liv in the valley. Everybody was convinced that he’d died from natural causes.

  She had to be on the look-out all the time so that nobody and nothing could harm her loved ones or speak ill of them. They were like children, defenceless and ignorant of the evil of this world. So it fell to her to protect them, and to make sure that their lives were spent in peace and free of misery. However, their helplessness would irritate her from time to time.

  Then there were the two thieves at the inn in Dovre – the ones who were trying to hurt Aunt Charlotte, the angel of the family. And there was the verger – now that one had been really fun. And Mr. Johan – who had been a little sad, but necessary – most definitely necessary! And, of course, there had been some of Tengel’s very sick patients – but they really didn’t count because they were half-dead already.

  What about Copenhagen? She’d behaved very well there – or so she thought. There’d also been the two highwaymen in Scania. Ha! Self-Defence! No finesse at all – just crushed their skulls. She felt dissatisfied about those two, but there had been no time for anything else.

  What about Liv’s mother-in-law then? She was far more satisfied with that! Methodically and intelligently planned. And now Laurents – she thought she’d done that very well, too.

  The list was growing all the time – and more names had been added to the list recently. But what Sol didn’t know yet was that the ultimate enemy was still out there – waiting.

  ***

  Liv stood motionless in the fine drawing room in her home in Oslo. She pressed her hands tightly together to stop them from shaking too much. But she couldn’t prevent her whole body from trembling.

  “He’s dead,” she thought. “He’s dead and will never come back.”

  All she could do was tremble. Her brain didn’t seem to work because thoughts might appear which she didn’t want to admit to herself. “I haven’t wished him dead! I haven’t! God help me and have mercy on me... I mustn’t have such thoughts. My conscience can’t stand them any longer. Won’t somebody come and help me? It’s just too much, I’m falling apart.”

  Then she realised that somebody was coming. She could hear familiar voices – familiar and dear voices.

  Sol came rushing in, followed by all Liv’s loved ones. She was surrounded by concerned, caring voices. Someone embraced her. Silje was there, her eyes warm and brimming with tears, telling her she looked thin and calling her “dearest child.” Sol was chattering loudly. Dag was there, too, and Charlotte. All stared at her with worried looks, but she was unable to see them clearly through her tears.

  Tengel had stopped by the door, staring at his daughter. The child he’d carried in his arms, pacing back and forth across the floor when she was ill. The little kid who had sat on his knee as she first struggled to learn the alphabet. The girl who was always so gentle, so warm-hearted to everyone. Now he could hardly recognise her – the expressionless, drawn face with the deep grey shadows, the lifeless hair and bewildered eyes.

  Tengel turned away, burying his face in his hands. Now he understood the meaning of pure hatred. Laurents Berenius and his mother could thank their lucky stars that they’d suffered a swift and painless death because if he’d known what they had done, he wouldn’t have been responsible for his actions. Taking a deep breath, he wiped away his tears. So many times Silje and he had thought of coming to Oslo to visit Liv, despite her obvious wish for them not to come. But their respect for her had made them decide against it. She’d asked them to wait a while until she’d finished decorating the house, or Laurents was away and that he’d so like to see them – was it possible for them to wait until he was back? And so on.

  Liv was surrounded by so many people, all wanting to hug her and take care of her, yet her face remained so expressionless that Tengel was very frightened. Eventually the others moved aside and she stood looking directly at him. At that moment, Tengel walked over to her and she fell into his arms.

  And while fresh tears poured over his cheeks, he heard her quiet, frightened whisper: “Take me home, Dad!”

  “Of course,” he said very softly. He found it hard to say the words. “You’ll be coming home again where you’ll be made welcome and loved, my precious child!”

  ***

  Liv came home, pale, tired and terribly gaunt. She went quietly about the farm and now and then she’d walk up to Graastensholm where she would have long, deep conversations with Dag, the person she’d always been closest to. All the while, Charlotte would be in the background, serving them something nice to eat and being kind and considerate in every way.

  One day Dag and Liv were walking across the fields when Dag stopped and took her gently by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.

  “Come on now, Liv. Why can’t you tell me what’s troubling you? I know there’s something. We all realised there was when we came and fetched you home and you won’t be well again until you’ve spoken openly about it. You’ve become a prisoner of some untold anxiety. They’re both dead, Liv! What is it that you’re afraid of?”

  She twisted her hands. “I daren’t say it aloud.”

  “You have to because otherwise you’ll never get over it.”

  Liv nodded and yet she said nothing as they continued their walk, making their way round a muddy patch of ground.

  “Dag, I feel so guilty,” she said at last.

  He took her hand, which felt like ice. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I don’t mean that I wished Laurents dead, but all the time I couldn’t help thinking about the terrible fact that I’d never be able to get out of that degrading life. Wouldn’t you say that it’s the same as wishing him dead?”

  “No, I don’t believe so. I think it’s more likely that you’d resigned yourself to your situation.”

  “Well, yes. I suppose you’re right.” Her voice was still heavy with doubt, yet she sounded slightly relieved.

  They’d stopped walking again and once more Dag turned her towards him. “Liv, my dearest friend, try to look at this time as something you just can’t avoid! Use me as your confidant, as a sounding board, who will always have the time and patience to listen, someone who will help you. Don’t feel sorry if you feel you need to repeat things over and over again. You have to get it out of your soul, your system, so that you can make a fresh start.”

  “Oh, Dag,” she replied as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll never be able to make a fresh start. I’m far more hurt and wounded than you can imagine.”

  He placed an arm round her shoulders. “Use time as your healer, Liv. He’s your best friend at the moment. Now – come on – chin up!”

  He held her slightly away from him and returned her despairing look with a friendly gaze. Then suddenly his soft smile died as they were both engulfed by a deathly silence. Liv’s eyes grew very wide and there was helplessness deep within them. Dag had stopped breathing – in that single moment of truth they both felt the same fear of the unknown.

  Liv let out a little cry of despair and then broke loose of Dag and ran faster from him, faster than a fleeing hound, over the fields towards Linden Avenue.

  Dag merely stood and watched, making no effort to follow her. He walked back to Graastensholm, disturbed and confused.

  When he arrived, he found Charlotte standing beneath the dining room window, pruning the rose bushes which her mother planted a long time ago.

  Seeing him approach, she smiled. “Oh, are you on your own? I thought Liv was going to eat with us.”

  Dag didn’t reply. He just stood staring at the roses without seeing them.

  Charlotte gazed at him. “What’s the matter, Dag?”

  There was a lump in his throat, making it impossible for him to speak and he swallowed hard.
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br />   “You don’t have to say anything,” she said softly, turning her attention back to the roses. “I knew that something was wrong as soon as you came home – that time when you spoke about complications with Miss Trolle and Laurents’ persistent punishment of Liv. All those things.”

  “Yes, that was my subconscious speaking out. In my heart of hearts, I already realised that I was much too fond of her. But common sense told me that I couldn’t tell her that – after all, she was a married woman. But today ... Just now ...”

  Charlotte waited for him to speak.

  “I’ve never understood it until now – because we’ve always been like brother and sister,” he said passionately. “But that isn’t what we are. I believe Liv feels the same way despite being scared by discovering the truth just now.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I understand. When she heard about Miss Trolle, she was a little distraught, but she didn’t know the whole story. Maybe, without realising the real reason, she yielded to the pressure to marry Laurents Berenius. Liv’s very easily influenced. Then, of course, you were in Copenhagen ... you were sad when you heard that she was about to get married and you saw no reason why, isn’t that so?”

  “Yes.”

  He turned on his heel quickly, grinding the gravel underfoot. “But you’d never have given your permission for me to marry Liv, would you?” he said in a slightly aggressive tone. “After all, she’s not a noblewoman.”