The Storm Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  The comment had stung and Anna had grown ever more resentful as her parents had begun to openly discuss possible wedding plans for her and Lars. She wondered if they would ever simply ask her if she wanted to marry Lars. But they didn’t, so Anna refrained from telling them that even though she liked him, she certainly wasn’t convinced that she could love him.

  Although she’d occasionally imagined what it would be like to kiss a man, she wasn’t at all sure she’d like it in reality. And as for the other unknown thing – the act she knew had to happen in order to have children – well, that was something she could only guess at. Occasionally at night she’d hear a strange creaking and moaning from her parents’ bedroom, but when she’d asked Knut about it, he’d only sniggered furtively and said it was how they had all arrived on the earth. If it was anything like when the bull was brought to a cow . . . Anna winced at the very idea, remembering how the bellowing creature had to be encouraged to clamber on top of its female conquest, with the farmhand helping to get the ‘thing’ inside her so she’d calf a few months later.

  She only wished she could ask her mother if it was a similar process with humans, but could never pluck up the courage to do so.

  What made it worse was that this summer she had struggled through Peer Gynt, and even now, having endlessly mulled the story over, she could not think for the life of her why the poor peasant girl at the centre of it – Solveig was her name – had wasted her whole life waiting for a dreadful, philandering man like Peer. And then, when he did return, taking him back and resting his lying, cheating head on her knee.

  ‘I would have used it as a ball for Viva to play with,’ she muttered as she neared their homestead. And the one thing she had categorically decided this summer was that she could never, ever marry a man she didn’t love.

  Reaching the end of the path, she saw the sturdy wood cabin up ahead, unchanged for generations. The turfed roof stood out as a bright, healthy green square amongst the darker foliage of the spruce trees in the forest that surrounded it. Anna took a scoop of water from the barrel that stood beside the front door and washed her hands to rid them of the smell of cow before stepping inside the cheerful sitting-room-cum-kitchen, where, as she’d predicted, the oil lamps were already lit and burning brightly.

  The room housed a large table covered with a checked cloth, a carved pine dresser, an old wood-fired oven and a huge open fireplace, over which she and her mother heated the iron pot that was filled with porridge for breakfast and supper and meat and vegetables for the midday meal. To the rear of the cabin were the sleeping quarters: her parents’ bedroom, Knut’s bedroom, and the tiny bedroom where she herself slept.

  Taking one of the lamps from the table, she crossed the well-worn wooden floor and pushed open the door to her room. The space was only just wide enough for her to squeeze through, since the bedstead butted right up to the door. Setting the lamp down on the nightstand, she removed her bonnet so that her hair fell in a curly Titian mane past her shoulders.

  Picking up her faded looking glass, Anna sat down on the bed and checked her face, wiping away a smudge of dirt from her forehead to make herself presentable before supper. She studied her reflection in the cracked surface for a moment. She did not consider herself particularly comely. Her nose seemed far too small in comparison to her big blue eyes and full, curved lips. The only good thing about the winter coming, she reflected, was that the freckles which liberally peppered the bridge of her nose and her cheeks in the summer would subside and go into hibernation with her until next spring.

  Sighing, she put the looking glass down, then manoeuvred herself out of the door and checked the clock on the kitchen wall. It was seven o’clock, and she was surprised that no one seemed to be at home, especially as she knew that her father and Knut were expected.

  ‘Hello?’ she called out, but there was no reply. Stepping outside into the fast-falling dusk, Anna walked round to the back of the cabin where a solid pine table sat on the rough earth. To her surprise, she saw her parents and Knut sitting with a stranger, whose face was illuminated by the glow of the oil lamp.

  ‘Where on earth have you been, child?’ asked her mother, rising from her seat.

  ‘Checking the cows were down from the mountain, as you asked me to do.’

  ‘You left hours ago,’ chided Berit.

  ‘I had to search for Rosa; the others had left her miles away on her own.’

  ‘Well, at least you’re back now.’ Berit sounded relieved. ‘This gentleman has travelled here with your father and brother to meet you.’

  Anna glanced at the gentleman, wondering why on earth he’d do such a thing. No one had ever come ‘to meet her’ anywhere in her entire life. As she looked at him more closely, she saw that he was not from the country. He was dressed in a dark tailored jacket with wide lapels and a silk cravat at the neck, as well as flannel trousers that, although mud-spattered at the hem, were the kind worn by smart people from the big cities. He had a large moustache that turned up at each end, rather like the horns on top of a goat’s head, and Anna guessed from the lines on his face that he was in his middle fifties. As she studied him, she could see that he was appraising her too. Then he smiled at her, and the smile was full of approval.

  ‘Come, Anna, and meet Herr Bayer.’ Her father beckoned to her as he filled the gentleman’s tin mug with home-made beer from the large jug on the table.

  Anna walked tentatively towards the man, who immediately stood up and held out his hand. She offered hers in return, and instead of shaking it, he clasped it in both of his.

  ‘Frøken Landvik, I am privileged to make your acquaintance.’

  ‘Are you?’ she said, taken aback by the enthusiasm of his greeting.

  ‘Anna, don’t be rude!’ admonished her mother.

  ‘No, please,’ the gentleman replied. ‘I’m sure Anna didn’t mean it to sound so. She is simply surprised to see me. I’m sure it’s not every day your daughter arrives home at her hillside retreat to find a stranger waiting for her. Now, Anna, if you will sit down, I will explain why I am here.’

  Her parents and Knut looked on expectantly as she did so.

  ‘Firstly, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Franz Bayer and I am a professor of Norwegian history at the University of Christiania. I am also a pianist and a music teacher. I and my like-minded friends spend most summers in Telemark county researching the national culture that you good people preserve so well in these parts, and seeking out young musical talent to represent it in the capital city of Christiania. When I arrived in the village of Heddal, I went as I always do in the first instance to the church, and there I met Fru Erslev, the wife of the pastor. She told me that she runs the choir and when I asked her if she had any exceptional voices amongst her ranks, she told me of yours. Naturally, I presumed you would be in the local vicinity. Then she informed me that you spent your summers up here, almost a day’s travel away by horse and cart, but that fortuitously your father might be able to provide me with transport, which he did.’ Herr Bayer dipped a bow to Anders. ‘My dear young lady, I confess to having had a certain reticence when Fru Erslev told me of your location. However, she convinced me that the journey would be worthwhile. She tells me that you have the voice of an angel. And so’ – he spread his arms and smiled broadly – ‘here I am. And your dear parents have been most hospitable whilst we waited for your return.’

  As Anna struggled to absorb Herr Bayer’s words, she realised that her mouth was hanging slack with surprise and she quickly closed her lips together. She didn’t want a sophisticated city dweller like him to assume that she was some half-witted country peasant.

  ‘I am honoured that you have made the journey just to see me,’ she said, dropping the most graceful curtsey she could manage.

  ‘Well, if your choir mistress is right – and your parents too believe you have talent – then the honour is entirely mine,’ Herr Bayer said gallantly. ‘And of course, now you are here, I am delighted to say you have
the opportunity to prove them all correct. I would dearly like you to sing for me, Anna.’

  ‘Of course she will,’ said Anders as Anna stood there, silent and uncertain. ‘Anna?’

  ‘But I only know folk songs and hymns, Herr Bayer.’

  ‘Either will suffice, I can assure you,’ he encouraged.

  ‘Sing “Per Spelmann”,’ suggested her mother.

  ‘That will do to start with,’ Herr Bayer responded with a nod.

  ‘But I have only sung it to the cows before.’

  ‘Then imagine that I am your favourite cow, and you are calling me home,’ Herr Bayer replied with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

  ‘Very well, sir. I will try my best.’

  Anna closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back on the hillside, calling Rosa, just as she had done that very evening. Taking a deep breath, she began to sing. The words came to her without thinking as she sang the story of the poor fiddler who traded in his cow to get his violin back. And once the last clear note had disappeared into the night air, she opened her eyes.

  She looked at Herr Bayer uncertainly, waiting for a verbal reaction. There was silence for a few moments as he studied her intently.

  ‘Now perhaps a hymn – do you know “Herre Gud, dit dyre Navn og Ære”?’ he said eventually.

  Anna nodded and once again opened her mouth to sing. This time when she had finished, she saw Herr Bayer take out a large kerchief and dab his eyes.

  ‘Young lady,’ he said, his voice husky with emotion. ‘That was sublime. And worth every hour of the backache I will suffer tonight from the journey up here.’

  ‘Of course you must stay with us,’ interjected Berit. ‘You can take our son Knut’s bedroom and he can sleep in the kitchen.’

  ‘My dear lady, I am most grateful. I will indeed take you up on your offer, as we have much to discuss. Forgive my presumption, but is there a chance you can offer this weary traveller some bread? I have not eaten a thing since breakfast.’

  ‘Please, sir, forgive me,’ said Berit, horrified that in all the excitement she had completely forgotten about food. ‘Of course, Anna and I will prepare something now.’

  And in the meantime, Herr Landvik and I will discuss how Anna’s voice can be brought to the wider attention of the Norwegian public.’

  Eyes wide, Anna dutifully followed her mother into the kitchen.

  ‘What must he think of us? That we are so inhospitable – or poor – that we do not have food on our table for a guest!’ Berit berated herself, as she set out a platter containing bread, butter and slices of cured pork. ‘He is sure to return to Christiania and tell all his friends that the stories they have heard about our uncivilised ways are true.’

  ‘Mor, Herr Bayer seems like a kind gentleman and I’m sure he will do nothing of the sort. If all is done for now, I must fetch more logs for the fire.’

  ‘Well, hurry up about it, you need to lay the table.’

  ‘Yes, Mor,’ Anna said, as she walked outside, carrying a large wicker basket under her arm. After loading the basket with logs, she stood for a few moments looking at the twinkling lights that shone intermittently on the hillside towards the lake, indicating the sporadic presence of other human habitations. Her heart was still beating fast from the surprise of what had just occurred.

  She had no clear idea of what it meant for her, although she had heard tales of other talented singers and musicians who had been whisked off to the city from villages all over Telemark county by professors such as Herr Bayer. She tried to think whether, if he did ask her to go with him, she’d actually want to. But as her experience beyond the dairy was confined to Heddal or the occasional trip to Skien, she couldn’t even begin to contemplate what such a move might involve.

  Hearing her mother calling her name, Anna turned and walked back to the cabin.

  The following morning, in the few drowsy seconds between sleep and wakefulness, Anna stirred in her bed, knowing that yesterday something incredible had happened. Finally remembering what it was, she got up and began the cumbersome process of dressing in the bloomers, vest, cream blouse, black skirt and colourfully embroidered waistcoat that were her daily attire. After placing her cotton bonnet on her head and stuffing her hair inside it, she donned her boots.

  Last night, after they’d eaten, she’d sung two more songs and another hymn, before being sent off to bed by her mother. The talk up until then had not been about Anna, but about the unusually warm weather and her father’s predicted crop yield for the next year. But she had heard the hushed voices of her parents and Herr Bayer through the thin wooden walls and had known that it was her future they were discussing. At one point she had even dared to open her door a crack so she could eavesdrop.

  ‘I worry of course that if Anna is to leave us for the city, my wife will be left to manage the household chores alone,’ she’d heard her father saying.

  ‘She may not be a natural when it comes to cooking and cleaning, but she is a hard worker and she also tends to the animals,’ Berit had added.

  ‘Well, I am sure we can come to an arrangement,’ Herr Bayer had replied soothingly. ‘I am of course prepared to recompense you for the loss of Anna’s labour.’

  Anna had held her breath in disbelief as a figure was mentioned. Unable to hear any more, she had closed the door as quietly as she could. ‘So I am to be bought and sold like a cow at the market!’ she’d muttered furiously to herself, outraged that money would even enter into her parents’ decision. Yet she had also felt a tiny jitter of excitement. It had been a long time after that before sleep had overcome her.

  Over a breakfast of porridge that morning, Anna sat silently as her family discussed Herr Bayer, who was still sleeping off the exertions of his journey. It seemed that the enthusiasm of last night had worn off and her family had begun to question the wisdom of allowing their only daughter to go off to the city with a stranger.

  ‘All we have to go on is his word,’ Knut said, sounding sour because he’d had to give up his bed to Herr Bayer. ‘How do we know Anna will be safe with him?’

  ‘Well, if Fru Erslev has sent him up here with her approval, then he must at least be a respected God-fearing man,’ said Berit, preparing a more lavish bowl of porridge for their visitor, with a scoop of lingonberry preserve on top.

  ‘I feel it would be best if I went to speak to the pastor and his wife when we return home to Heddal next week,’ Anders said, and Berit nodded her approval.

  ‘Then he must give us time to think, and visit us again to discuss it,’ said Berit.

  Anna didn’t dare speak, knowing her future hung in the balance and feeling unsure as to which way she wanted the scales to tip. She slipped away before her mother could assign her more tasks, wanting to spend the day with the cows and think in peace and quiet. Humming to herself as she walked, she wondered why Herr Bayer was so interested in her when there were surely lots of better singers in Christiania. She had only a few days left on the mountains before going back down to Heddal for the winter, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation that she might not come back here at all next summer. Giving Rosa a hug and a kiss, Anna shut her eyes and sang again to stave off her tears.

  Back home in Heddal a week later, Anders went to speak to Pastor Erslev and his wife, and was reassured about the professor’s character and credentials. It seemed that Herr Bayer had taken other young girls under his wing and trained them into professional singers. One of whom, as Fru Erslev had rhapsodised, had even sung in the chorus at the Christiania Theatre.

  When Herr Bayer visited them shortly afterwards, Berit had fussed around the kitchen and prepared the finest joint of pork she had for the midday meal. After they had eaten, Anna was sent outside to continue her usual tasks of feeding the chickens and filling the water troughs. She had hovered several times near the kitchen window, desperate to hear what those inside were saying, but could catch nothing. Finally, Knut came to fetch her.

  As she took off her coat, s
he saw that her parents were sitting companionably with Herr Bayer, drinking her father’s home-made beer. He greeted her with a jovial smile as she sat down at the table with Knut.

  ‘So, Anna, your parents have agreed that you will come and live with me in Christiania for one year. I will be your mentor as well as your teacher and I have promised them that I will act faithfully in loco parentis. What do you say to that, eh?’

  Anna stared at him and didn’t answer, not wishing to sound ignorant, since she had absolutely no idea what ‘mentor’ or ‘in loco parentis’ meant.

  ‘Herr Bayer means that you will live with him in his apartment in Christiania and he will teach you to sing properly, introduce you to influential people, and ensure you are cared for as if you were his own daughter,’ explained Berit, putting a comforting hand on Anna’s knee.

  Seeing the bewildered expression on Anna’s face, Herr Bayer hastily sought to reassure her further. ‘As I have told your parents, the living arrangements will of course be of the utmost propriety. My housekeeper, Frøken Olsdatter, also resides in my apartment and will be constantly on hand to chaperone you and take care of your needs. I have also presented your parents with letters of introduction from my university and the music fraternity in Christiania. So there is nothing for you to fear, my dear young lady, I can assure you.’

  ‘I see.’ Anna concentrated on the mug of coffee her mother had passed to her and sipped it steadily.

  ‘Is this a plan that would please you, Anna?’ asked Herr Bayer.

  ‘I . . . think so.’

  ‘Herr Bayer is also prepared to cover all expenses for you,’ encouraged her father. ‘It is a wonderful opportunity, Anna. He believes you have great talent.’

  ‘I do indeed,’ confirmed Herr Bayer. ‘You have one of the purest voices I’ve ever heard. And you will also be educated, not just in music. You will learn other languages and I will provide tutors to improve your reading and writing—’