The Girl, the Dog and the Writer in Lucerne (The Girl, the Dog and the Writer, #3)
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Vivi threw back her head and laughed loudly, the notes flying up into the rafters. Tobias stopped mopping, pressed the sodden shawl to his heart and murmured, ‘Raspberry-gelato laughter.’
The guests all sprang to their feet, raised their glasses and cried, ‘Raspberry-gelato laughter!’
Manfred took a piano accordion out from behind a milk can and launched into a jolly Swiss tune. Daniel joined in on the trumpet, Madame Belmont on the double bass. Tobias pulled Vivi to her feet and, together, they spun around the barn, a whirr of laughter and oom-pah-pahs and raspberry-gelato kisses. Some of the guests joined in. Others lounged about, nibbling dusty truffles and sipping hot chocolate. The dogs chased one another through the hay. Even Wilhelm Tell.
Freja slipped into a seat beside Lady P. She stared at the woman’s nose for a moment. It really was a marvel, every bit as wide and long as she had bragged.
‘Have you been yet?’ asked Freja.
‘Yes!’ cried Lady P. ‘I caught the train to Zurich two days ago and I now have the contents of the safety deposit box in my possession.’ She smiled, her face glowing.
‘But what did Lord P leave for you?’ asked Freja. ‘Was it diamonds? Gold? A precious painting? A priceless antique?’
Lady P shook her head. ‘Something far more valuable.’ She straightened her pearls and patted her hair. ‘Love letters!’
‘Love letters!’ Freja gasped. ‘Treasure! Although Jane might not have thought so!’
Lady P laughed and nodded. ‘The box contained all the letters Lord P and I wrote to one another during our engagement. God bless his fat, happy heart, he’d kept them for all those years. But there was also one final love letter, written by dear Lord P when he realised he was dying and would be leaving me.’
‘Something to support you in the lonely years ahead,’ murmured Freja, recalling the words of Lady P’s lawyer.
Lady P squeezed Freja’s hand and smiled. ‘Nothing is so fortifying as the knowledge that one has been loved — grandly, deeply, perfectly.’
‘Yes,’ said Freja, and she understood. Completely.
‘Achtung! Attention!’ shouted Herr Ummel, quietening the musicians. ‘It is time to go!’
The guests stared at one another, stunned that the party should be ended so rudely. But as Herr Ummel threw open the large barn doors, they understood.
The barnyard was filled with beautiful caramel cows. Each cow wore a giant bell around her neck and a towering crown of flowers upon her head — sunflowers, daisies, roses, carnations and dahlias — red, yellow, purple, pink and orange. The farmhands had been busy during the wedding feast.
‘The summer is over,’ shouted Herr Ummel, ‘and it is time to walk the cows down from the mountainside to my village where they will graze in the sheltered meadows, then spend the snowy winter in the barn. This returning from the mountains is a special time for the Swiss farmer — a traditional celebration. We are passing from one season to another. It is a goodbye and a new beginning. Winter is coming, but then it will be spring again — a time for new meadows, new calves, new adventures.’ He patted the neck of the nearest cow. ‘It is an echo of what happens in our lives, over and over again — seasons, changes, new adventures. Like getting married and starting a new family! It is a fitting way to finish a wedding celebration, ja?’
‘Ja!’ shouted the guests.
‘Moooo!’ agreed the cows.
The girl, the dog, the writer and the pretty chef walked down the mountainside, surrounded by friends, family and caramel cows. The air was filled with the scent of flowers and grass. The soft, mellow clang of cowbells echoed across the valley. In the distance, Lake Lucerne sparkled like a million sapphires and, beyond, the Alps shone silver with an autumn dusting of snow.
As they entered the first village, men, women and children ran out to greet them, laughing, cheering and waving flags in the air. A band of musicians on the balcony of one of the chalets struck up a song. The lead cow stopped, lifted her flower-crowned head and bellowed as though accepting the attention as rightfully hers.
A whip of wind snapped down from the Alps and caught in Freja’s hair. The curls floated up around her head like a golden halo and the dog, excited by the motion, barked, then leapt at her.
Freja stumbled sideways and started to laugh.
Then, realising that she felt happy, truly happy, she began to run.
Overtaking the lead cow, Freja galloped into the meadow, wind pulling at her hair, grass grabbing at her bare legs. Finnegan ran circles around her, tongue flapping like a flag.
Freja looked back over her shoulder and shouted at Vivi and Tobias, ‘Come on!’
And they, too, ran until they caught up.
Then together, the girl, the dog, the writer, the pretty chef and three runaway cows bounded down the mountainside, a jumble of whipped-cream wedding dress and golden curls and inky fingers and shaggy grey fur and cowbell tunes and flower crowns and happiness and love.
And Freja whispered into the wind, ‘It’s true, Clementine. Sad beginnings can lead to the most beautiful and surprising endings!’
Deutsche!
The four national languages of Switzerland are German, French, Italian and Romansh. The main language spoken in Lucerne is a German dialect called Swiss-German, but in writing my book, I have simply used German words.
Here is a list of the German words used in this story.
Ach!
Oh!
Achtung
attention
auf Wiedersehen
goodbye
bitte
please, you’re welcome
Böser Hund!
Bad dog!
danke
thank you
Das war lecker!
That was yummy!
drei
three
Dummkopf
idiot, blockhead
eins
one
Frau
Mrs, woman, wife
Fräulein
Miss, young lady
Freude
joy
gute Nacht
good night
guten Appetit
good appetite, enjoy your meal
guten Morgen
good morning
guten Nachmittag
good afternoon
guten Tag
good day, hello
Hanswurst
buffoon, fool
Herr
Mr, mister
herzlich
warmly
Hilf mir!
Help me!
Ich bin lecker!
I am yummy!
ja
yes
Katastrophe
catastrophe, disaster
Kinder
children
Knopf
button
Kopf
head
Leckerbissen
titbit
nein
no
perfekt
perfect
Pipi
pee
Popo
butt, botty, bottom
schlecht
bad
Schloss
castle
schnell
fast, quickly
Schokolade
chocolate
sensationell
sensational, spectacular
still
silent, quiet
Stinkstiefel
grouch
tipptopp
tip-top, shipshape
Vielfrass
greedy guts
vier
four
Willkommen
welcome
wunderbar
wonderful
zwei
two
Discover what the girl, the dog and the writer got up to in Rome . . .
And Provence . . .
Acknowledgements
I am so very grateful to my friends Sarah, Luke, Oli and Bianca Sch
elosky for teaching me about Swiss culture, particularly the food. Raclette could become a wintertime obsession in the Nannestad household, and I have developed a deep respect for the humble gherkin. A special danke to Luke for his patience, skill and good humour in checking the German words used in this book.
I am also grateful to Jordan Poldi, the student who suggested some fabulous titles for books that Tobias Appleby might write in the future. The Casket, mentioned in this story, is just one of Jordan’s suggestions.
Thank you yet again to Kate ‘Eddie’ Burnitt and Chren Byng for working with me on this series. It has been a wonderful experience and I am always learning something new from you both.
And, last but not least, I must express my gratitude to that great Swiss man, François-Louis Cailler, for inventing the very first chocolate bar in 1819. What a hero!
About the Author
KATRINA NANNESTAD is an Australian author. She grew up in country NSW in a neighbourhood stuffed full of happy children. Her adult years have been spent raising boys, teaching, daydreaming and pursuing her love of stories.
Katrina celebrates family, friendship and belonging in her writing. She also loves writing stories that bring joy to other people’s lives.
Katrina now lives near Bendigo in Victoria with her family and an exuberant black whippet called Olive. She dreams of one day living in Lucerne, where she will spend her days milking cows, gobbling chocolate and gazing at the snow-capped Alps.
www.katrinanannestad.com
Also by Katrina Nannestad
Bungaloo Creek
Red Dirt Diaries
Red Dirt Diaries: Blue about Love
Red Dirt Diaries: Blue’s News
The Girl Who Brought Mischief
Olive of Groves
Olive of Groves and the Great Slurp of Time
Olive of Groves and the Right Royal Romp
Lottie Perkins, Movie Star
Lottie Perkins, Ballerina
Lottie Perkins, Pop Singer
Lottie Perkins, Fashion Designer
The Girl, the Dog and the Writer in Rome
The Girl, the Dog and the Writer in Provence
Copyright
The ABC ‘Wave’ device is a trademark of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation and is used under licence by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia.
First published in Australia in 2019
by HarperCollinsChildren’sBooks
a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Text copyright © Katrina Nannestad 2019
Illustrations copyright © Cheryl Orsini 2019
The rights of Katrina Nannestad and Cheryl Orsini to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work have been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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ISBN 978 0 7333 3819 9 (paperback)
ISBN 978 1 4607 0814 9 (ebook)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia
Cover design by Shirley Tran Thai, HarperCollins Design Studio
Cover and internal illustrations by Cheryl Orsini; all other images by shutterstock.com