‘Ja, ich will,’ they each said in turn, and Jens slid his grandmother’s simple gold band around her finger, his touch warm and sure. Anna closed her eyes as he kissed her chastely on the lips and, with relief, felt the Lord’s forgiveness in her heart.
The small wedding party moved on to a Bierkeller, where Jens’ musician friends played an impromptu wedding march as the newly married couple entered, and the other patrons raised their beer steins in congratulations. Over a simple meal of German wedding soup, Anna felt the reassuring touch of her husband’s hand on her knee. Thanks to Herr Hougaard, she could join in the jokes and toasts with Jens’ friends, and she no longer felt like a stranger in a strange world.
As they mounted the stairs to their room later that night, Jens’ fingertips rested on the base of her spine, sending shivers of nervous anticipation through her.
‘Look at you,’ he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he closed the door behind him, ‘so tiny, so innocent, so perfect . . .’ He reached for her then and pulled her into his arms, his hands travelling boldly over her body. ‘I must have my wife,’ he whispered into her ear, as he tipped her face up to kiss her. ‘Is it any wonder I looked elsewhere for comfort?’ At this, she pulled away from him.
‘What do you mean?!’
‘Nothing, nothing, really . . . I only mean that I want you.’
Before she could reply, he was kissing her, his hands caressing her back, her thighs, her breasts . . . and despite herself, it suddenly felt wonderful, natural, that her clothes and all the rest of her barriers that had separated them were finally removed so that they could become one. Carrying her to the bed, Jens stripped off his own clothes and moved to lie on top of her. Anna’s own hands tentatively explored the hard muscles of his back. As he entered her, she was ready for him, knowing her body had been subconsciously practising this ever since she’d first laid eyes on him.
The process was strange to her, but as he sighed and then collapsed onto the pillow beside her, tucking her head into his shoulder, all of the horror stories she’d heard about this moment faded into oblivion. For now, he was truly hers and she was his.
For the next few weeks, Jens was home on time for supper, both of them desperate to finish their food and retire upstairs to their room. It was obvious to Anna that her husband was experienced in the art of lovemaking, and as he became less tentative with her, and she too allowed herself to relax, each night became a wonderful adventure. The loneliness of the past few months was vanquished as Anna fully understood the difference between friends and lovers. And it seemed as if their previous roles were reversed, as she constantly yearned to feel his touch on her.
‘Good Lord, wife,’ he said one night as he lay panting beside her, ‘I’m beginning to wish I’d never introduced you to this new game. You’re positively insatiable!’
And she was. Because these moments were the only part of him she fully owned. When he left her arms in the morning, and dressed to leave for the Conservatory, she saw his expression change and felt his thoughts wander away from her. She’d taken to walking with him to the Conservatory, where he’d embrace her, tell her he loved her and then disappear inside the doors to the other world that consumed him.
My enemy, Anna sometimes thought as she turned away and retraced her footsteps back home.
Herr Hougaard had noticed the new spring in her step and her ready smile as she greeted him for her lesson in the mornings.
‘You seem happier now, Frau Halvorsen, and I am glad for it,’ he’d said.
Spurred on by her newfound positivity, Anna’s German had improved apace. She now spoke with a confidence that Herr Hougaard applauded her for. And it seemed as if each new word she grasped would lead to a flurry of others.
She resolved that she would no longer simply sit and wait for Jens to find her a singing position. She wrote a letter to Herr Grieg, telling him of her move to Leipzig, along with a request to perhaps gain a singing audition from anyone he knew in the town. Jens had enquired at the Conservatory for the address of C. F. Peters, Herr Grieg’s Leipzig music publishers. Finding number 10 on Talstraße, she hand-delivered her letter to a young man who worked in the ground-floor shop, selling the sheet music. Every night afterwards, she prayed that Herr Grieg would receive her missive and reply.
One day in June, when she had managed to hold a fifteen-minute conversation in German without a single mistake, Herr Hougaard gave her a small bow.
‘Frau Halvorsen, that was word-perfect. I salute you.’
‘Danke,’ Anna chuckled.
‘And I must also tell you that I am soon off to take the waters in Baden-Baden as I always do in the summer months. It becomes far too hot for me here in the city and I have been feeling particularly fatigued of late. Are you and Herr Halvorsen departing for Norway when his term ends?’
‘He has certainly not told me if we are.’
‘I leave tomorrow morning, so I will see you again, if luck will have it, in the autumn.’
‘Yes, I hope so.’ Anna rose as he did, wishing that she could show her affection and gratitude to him in a less formal way than polite manners required. ‘I am truly indebted to you, sir.’
‘Frau Halvorsen, rest assured it has been a pleasure,’ he said as he took his leave.
As Herr Hougaard left for Baden-Baden, Anna also noticed a change in Jens. He wasn’t home as usual for supper and when he did arrive, he was jumpy, like a cat on hot bricks. When he made love to her, she felt a new distance.
‘What is it?’ she asked him one night. ‘I know something is wrong.’
‘Nothing,’ he said sharply as he pulled out of her arms and rolled over. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’
‘Jens, min eskelde, I know you. Please tell me what it is.’
He didn’t move for a while, then rolled back to face her. ‘All right, I have a dilemma and I don’t know what to do.’
‘Then for heaven’s sake, tell me what it is. Maybe I can help.’
‘The problem is, you won’t like it at all.’
‘I see. Then you had better tell me.’
‘Well, you remember the woman who you saw me having lunch with?’
‘The baroness. How could I forget?’ said Anna, bristling at the mention of her.
‘She has asked me to go with her to Paris for the summer, where she and her husband have a château near the Palace of Versailles. She holds weekly musical soirées for the great and the good of the arts world and she wishes me to premiere my new compositions there. Of course, it is the most wonderful opportunity for my work to be heard. Baroness von Gottfried knows everyone and, as I told you, she is a great champion of young composers. She tells me that even Herr Grieg has played at one of her events.’
‘Well then, of course we must go. I don’t understand why this should be a dilemma for you.’
This elicited a groan from Jens. ‘Anna, that is why I have not told you. The problem is, I cannot take you with me.’
‘Oh. May I ask why not?’
‘Because . . .’ Jens sighed. ‘Baroness von Gottfried doesn’t know about you. I have never mentioned that I am married. To be truthful, I thought it might prejudice her good favour towards me if I did. At the time I met her, things between you and I were . . . difficult, and we were living as little more than brother and sister, or as friends. So there we are. She has no knowledge of your existence.’
‘Then why do you not tell her now that I do exist?’ Anna’s voice was low and cold as she digested the underlying meaning of what her husband was saying.
‘Because . . . I am frightened. Yes, Anna, your Jens is frightened of the fact that the baroness will no longer wish me to accompany her to Paris if she does know.’
‘You wish for the baroness to believe you are available, so she will help you in your career?’
‘Yes, Anna. Oh Lord, what an ass I am . . .’
‘Yes, you are.’ Anna watched dispassionately as Jens pulled the pillow over his head and buried himself beneath it like a naughty
child being chastised by his mother.
‘Forgive me, Anna, I truly hate myself. But at least I’ve given you the full facts.’
‘How long does she want you to go for?’
‘Just for the summer,’ said Jens, emerging from underneath the pillow. ‘You must understand that I am doing this all for us, to further my career and earn money so you can move from this room and one day have a proper home, as you truly deserve.’
And so you can taste the fame you believe you deserve, she thought harshly. ‘Then you must go.’
‘Really?’ Jens looked suspicious. ‘Why on earth would you let me?’
‘Simply because you have put me in an untenable position. If I forbid it, you will sulk here the entire summer and blame me for your misfortune. And despite others’ persuasion to the contrary’ – Anna took a deep breath – ‘I trust you.’
‘You do?’ He looked amazed. ‘Then you truly are a goddess amongst women!’
‘Jens, you are my husband. What is the point of this marriage if I cannot?’ she replied grimly.
‘Thank you. Thank you, my darling wife.’
Jens departed a few days later, leaving Anna with enough money to see her comfortably through the next few weeks until he returned. His overwhelming gratitude for her generosity had been enough to convince her that she’d made the right decision. Every night before he left, she’d lain in bed with him, and seen him staring at her in wonder.
‘I love you, Anna, I love you . . .’ he’d said over and over again. And then, on the morning of his departure, he’d held her to him as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
‘Promise you’ll wait for me, my darling wife, whatever happens?’
‘Of course, Jens. You are my husband.’
Anna got through the stifling Leipzig summer on sheer determination. With the windows thrown open to let in any breath of wind that reached the narrow street between the houses, she lay naked on the bed at night, perspiring from the heat. She finished Goethe’s Faust and sweated through any other book she could borrow from the town library to improve her German vocabulary. She also purchased fabric from the market and took her sewing to the park, sitting underneath a shady tree as she laboriously fashioned herself a dress out of fustian, along with a warmer cloak for the winter to come. As she measured herself for the clothes, she fretted at the fact that she was not yet twenty, but her waistline was already expanding, as other women’s seemed to do once they were wed. She visited the Thomaskirche every other day, both for spiritual and physical succour, finding the cool interior of the church the only place she could escape from the heat.
She wrote regularly to Jens at the address he’d given to her before he left for Paris, but received only two brief notes in return, which said that he was well and busy meeting many of Baroness von Gottfried’s important contacts. He said his composition had gone down well at the recital, and that he was working on something new in his spare time.
The château is inspiring my best work yet! How could one not feel creative in such a beautiful place as this?
As the summer dragged on interminably, Anna refused to succumb to the dark thoughts that wormed their way into her mind about Jens’ rich and powerful female sponsor. He would return to her soon enough, she told herself firmly, and they could continue their married life together.
Jens had never given her an exact date for his return, but as Anna was eating breakfast one morning in early September, her landlady, Frau Schneider, asked pointedly if her husband was due back in Leipzig today, in time for the start of the new term at the Conservatory tomorrow.
‘I’m sure he will be, yes,’ Anna replied evenly, determined not to show her surprise. She made her way up the stairs immediately to comb her hair and change into her new dress. She stared at her reflection in the small looking glass she kept on top of the chest, and thought she looked well. There was no doubt her cheeks had filled out since Jens had left and she hoped he would approve – he, like her family, had often teased her that she was too thin.
Anna didn’t leave the stuffy room for the rest of the day, nervous and excited at the thought of her husband’s return.
But as dusk began to fall, so did her spirits. Surely, she thought, Jens would not miss the first day of the new term at his beloved Conservatory? Yet as midnight struck and the bells from the churches chimed in a new day, Anna removed her dress and lay down on the bed in her petticoat. She knew there would be no more trains into Leipzig station tonight.
Three days on, and Anna was frantic with worry. She walked to the Conservatory and waited until the students poured out of its doors, smoking and chatting. Recognising Frederick, the young man with whom they’d spent last Christmas Eve, she walked up to him shyly.
‘Excuse me for disturbing you, Herr Frederick,’ said Anna, unaware of his surname, ‘but have you seen Jens at school this week?’
Frederick stared at her, taking a moment to recognise who she was. And then glanced at his friends as something passed between them. ‘No, Frau Halvorsen, I’m afraid I have not. Has anybody else?’ he asked the group around him. They shook their heads, their eyes averted in embarrassment.
‘I am concerned that something has happened to him in Paris, for I have not heard from him in over a month now and he was due back for the start of term.’ Anna twisted the wedding ring around her finger in agitation. ‘Is there anyone else here at the Conservatory who might know of his whereabouts?’
‘I can ask Herr Halvorsen’s tutor if he has heard anything. But I must be honest with you, Frau Halvorsen, I was under the impression that his plan was to settle in Paris. He told me he only had enough money to fund one year’s tuition here. Although, of course, the school may have offered him a scholarship to stay on. Did they?’ he enquired.
‘I . . .’ Anna felt the world spin about her and she staggered slightly. Frederick caught her arm and steadied her.
‘Frau Halvorsen, you are obviously unwell.’
‘No, no, I am very well indeed,’ she said, pulling out of his grasp, pride squaring her chin. ‘Danke, Herr Frederick.’ She nodded her thanks and walked away with her head held as high as she could manage.
‘Oh my dear Lord, oh my Lord,’ she muttered as she struggled home through the busy streets, still breathless and dizzy.
Collapsing onto the bed, Anna reached for the glass of water beside it and drank deeply to ease her faintness and her thirst.
‘It cannot be true. It cannot be true. If he intends to stay in Paris, why has he not sent for me?’ The bare walls of the room could not give her the answer she needed. ‘He would not abandon me, no, he would not,’ she convinced herself. ‘He loves me, I am his wife . . .’
After a sleepless night, during which Anna thought she might go mad with the thoughts battering her mind, she staggered down to breakfast to find Frau Schneider standing in the hallway reading a letter.
‘Good morning, Frau Halvorsen. I have just received very sad news. It seems your friend, Herr Hougaard, died of a heart attack two weeks ago. His family wish me to pack up his belongings and they’ll send a cart to collect them.’
Anna’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh no, please, no.’ And at this point, the world went black.
She woke to find herself in Frau Schneider’s private sitting room, lying on the sofa with a cool cloth on her head.
‘There, there,’ the older woman crooned. ‘I know how fond of him you were, as was I. It must be most upsetting for you, with your husband still away. And in your condition too.’
Anna followed the woman’s gaze to her stomach. ‘I . . . What do you mean by my “condition”?’
‘Why, your pregnancy, of course. Do you know when the baby is due? You’re so very small, Frau Halvorsen, you really must take care.’
Anna felt the world spin again and thought she might vomit over Frau Schneider’s velvet-covered sofa.
‘Why don’t you try and drink a little water?’ Frau Schneider suggested, stepping towards her and proffering a gla
ss.
Anna did so, as the woman chattered on.
‘I was going to speak with you about the future when your husband returned. One of my rules here is no children. Their cries disturb the other guests.’
If Anna thought things could not get any worse, it seemed they just had.
‘However, until he is back, I feel it is hardly fair to turn you out on the street. So I will be happy to have you stay here until the birth,’ she said magnanimously.
‘Danke,’ Anna whispered, knowing that the woman’s brief show of empathy was at an end and that she wished to get on with her morning. She stood up. ‘I am well now. Thank you for your kindness and my apologies for the trouble I’ve caused you.’ She nodded courteously to the woman before making her exit to return to her room.
For the rest of the day she lay motionless on the bed. If she stayed still with her eyes closed, perhaps the terrible things that had happened – and all that was happening now – would go away. But if she moved a single muscle, that would mean that she was still alive and breathing and she’d have to face reality.
‘Oh Lord, please help me,’ she begged.
Later, forced to rise to visit the water closet, Anna took off her dress and stood in her bloomers and chemise. Lifting the chemise, she forced her eyes downwards and acknowledged the gentle swelling of her belly. Why on earth had she never connected her growing waistline to pregnancy?
‘You silly little idiot!’ she wailed. ‘How could you not have known? You are a naive, stupid peasant from the country, just as Herr Bayer told you!’ She went to a drawer to retrieve her ink pen and paper, then sat on the bed and began to write to her husband in Paris.
‘There’s a letter for you this morning,’ Frau Schneider said as she handed it to Anna. The child – for that was how the landlady thought of her diminutive lodger – looked up at her with hollow, sunken eyes, and for the first time, Frau Schneider saw the tiniest glimmer of hope appear in them. ‘It has a French mark upon it. I am sure it must be from your husband.’
The Storm Sister Page 37