by Maria Parr
Gunnvald reassured Astrid that he wasn’t losing anything. “The address doesn’t say ‘Ms A. Zimmermann, c/o Heaven, ZZ99 2AZ’, does it? No, it’s a perfectly normal address: a beautiful long address in Germany.”
“Fine, but you said that Anna Zimmermann was dead.” Astrid didn’t understand. “Isn’t she dead?”
“Stop going on about all this dying,” Gunnvald barked. He didn’t want to explain. He just took her hand. “Dearest Astrid, this is an old man’s last wish.”
“What would you do without me?” Astrid said, putting the letter in her jacket pocket without waiting for an answer.
Three days later, the same evening that Gunnvald had his operation – and, to his great surprise, survived it splendidly – a postman in Germany put an envelope through a letterbox in a grand old city building. The person inside the house slowly picked it up. Then the letter was read many, many times over, and the person who’d read it stared out of the big windows, deep in thought.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
In which a mysterious
woman and a terrifying dog
turn up in Glimmerdal
On a soggy spring day one week after the operation on Gunnvald’s ankle, a tall woman with an orange rucksack and an enormous dog walked off the ferry at the quayside. She stood there for a moment, completely still. When her nose caught the spring breeze blowing down the glen, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the dog’s lead. Her face softened a little, but only for a second. Then it hardened again. The dog growled at the sparrows underneath the old ice-cream table, which hardly improved matters.
The woman started walking up the narrow road, slush splashing around her feet. She walked past the closed-down snack bar, the shop and the hair salon. Theo was standing at the door to the salon, but he didn’t ask her whether she wanted a haircut. Theo had never, ever seen so much tousled hair on one woman before. He was speechless. Standing between his legs was his little poodle, Matisse, who looked at the giant canine monster and squeaked in terror.
Behind the curtains of the few houses up the glen, people whispered to one another as the tall lady went past. Nobody had seen her before. She was probably heading to Hagen’s Wellness Retreat, they thought. But she had a dog. Dogs were strictly forbidden at the holiday camp, like most other things. She’d probably have to turn back when she got there and take the afternoon boat home.
“What a giant lady!”
“Have you ever seen hair like that?”
“And look at that dog! I wouldn’t like to meet those two in a dark alley.”
People carried on whispering away behind their curtains, while the woman and her dog continued up past Peter and his mother’s house. Eventually they came to Hagen’s Wellness Retreat. Surely that must be where they were going? No. The woman and the dog went right on by. They didn’t so much as glance at Hagen’s Wellness Retreat. Slowly and unshakably, they walked on up the glen, through the enchanted forest and past Sally’s house.
Now not a soul in the world could see them or where they were going any more. Astrid’s dad had taken Sally to the chemist’s in Barkvika that day. Gunnvald was in hospital. And Astrid? Sitting in Gunnvald’s kitchen, reading the green book about Heidi, Astrid barely knew she was in Glimmerdal at all.
She could hardly breathe, as now Heidi’s idiotic aunt had suddenly decided to go and fetch her, just when Heidi had grown so fond of her grandfather, and he of her. Aunt Deta, that old bag, just came and snatched Heidi. Her grandfather was furious.
“Take her and ruin her, but do not bring her before my sight again,” he shouted at Aunt Deta as she dragged little Heidi down from the mountain. Poor Heidi, and her poor grandfather! Astrid was so angry with Aunt Deta that her insides boiled.
Heidi had to travel to a city called Frankfurt, where she was going to work for a terribly rich family as a playmate for a girl who was poorly and in a wheelchair.
“Frankfurt,” Astrid muttered to herself. Where had she heard of Frankfurt before? She kept reading for a while. Then she suddenly remembered: it was in the address on the letter that Gunnvald had written! It had been sent to Frankfurt. Astrid frowned and patted the green book. Why exactly did Gunnvald have that book?
Clara, the rich girl in the wheelchair, was very nice. She thought Heidi was the best thing that had ever happened to her, as she brought the old house in Frankfurt to life. Heidi had come straight from the mountains, where she’d slept in the hay and played with goats, and she didn’t know how to behave in such a fancy house. So she made lots of mistakes and did strange things that seemed funny to Clara and the servants. Astrid laughed too at all the things Heidi got up to, but the book’s strict Miss Rottenmeier was in no laughing mood. She was so horrible that it sent a shiver down Astrid’s spine. Miss Rottenmeier thought it was scandalous that Heidi had been let into the house. And poor Heidi missed her grandfather and her mountains so much that she could hardly bring herself to eat. She didn’t dare tell anybody either, since she was so scared that Clara would get upset and even more poorly if she told her that she didn’t want to stay there and play with her.
One day, Heidi couldn’t take it any longer. She had to see her mountains! If she could climb to the top of the high church tower, then maybe she’d catch a glimpse of them. Heidi slipped out into the town without permission and a boy helped her to find the tower. At the top, the tower keeper lifted her up so she could look out across Frankfurt, and then Heidi was so disappointed that it almost made Astrid cry as she sat there reading about it in Gunnvald’s empty kitchen. Heidi still couldn’t see her mountains. There were just buildings, buildings and more buildings as far as the eye could see. Were there really cities that big? Imagine how lonely and helpless Heidi must have felt!
Suddenly there was somebody opening the door latch outside, and Astrid heard steps in the hallway. It had to be her dad returning from Barkvika. He was a bit early really, she thought; she wished she could have finished the book first.
“Dad, Heidi’s—” said Astrid, just as the kitchen door opened.
She didn’t get any further.
It wasn’t her dad at the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
In which Astrid has a scary experience
and is quite stunned
Astrid is really quite brave. There aren’t many things she’s afraid of. She’s not scared of ghosts, as she doesn’t believe in them. She’s not scared of being alone, because she’s so used to it. She’s not scared of heights, of the dark, of strangers, of speed, of water, of fire, of spiders, of mice or of thunder. And she’s not scared of Mr Hagen, either. But there’s one thing Astrid is scared of, and she’s so scared of it that it makes up for everything else. Astrid Glimmerdal is so abso-heart-stopping-lutely scared of dogs that you wouldn’t believe it.
The only dog Astrid dares to stroke is teeny-tiny Matisse at Theo’s hair salon. But she does it as seldom as she can, and usually makes considerable detours to avoid going anywhere near a dog.
So the fact that there was suddenly a lady in Gunnvald’s kitchen who was a total stranger to Astrid was one thing. And the fact that this stranger was the tallest woman Astrid had ever seen was another thing. But Astrid would’ve taken all this in her stride if it hadn’t been for the dog, because suddenly, with no warning at all, there was a black-haired beast with a flat snout and a shiny coat standing in Gunnvald’s kitchen. And it was growling. Poor Hulda arched her back and dived under the sofa like a misfired rocket. Astrid was so frightened that she couldn’t even say “help”.
“Who are you?” the lady asked.
What on earth? What kind of a question was that?
“Uh…” Astrid stuttered, stiffening and squeezing herself up on top of the chair.
The lady pulled the dog’s lead and stomped out. Astrid could hear her rummaging around in the farmyard. Shaking, she got up from the chair, and the book about Heidi fell to the floor with a smack.
When the woman came thundering back in, Astrid was still as wh
ite as a sheet beneath her spring freckles.
“I’ve tied the dog to the flagpole. Don’t go near him. He bites,” the lady said in a gravelly voice. Then she didn’t say any more. The door was open. She probably thought Astrid should go. This was so wrong!
“Who are you?” Astrid asked, trying to sound stern, but she was far too curious. The lady was quite stunning, even though she was scruffily dressed. Her skin was tanned and her eyes were so dark they seemed black. Astrid thought she looked like an enormous version of a girl in a film she’d once seen called Ronia, the Robber’s Daughter.
The lady didn’t answer. Her eyes scanned the room, lingering on Gunnvald’s fiddle, and then on the book on the floor. She still didn’t say a word. Then she looked at Astrid, sizing her up.
“You don’t live here, do you?”
Astrid shook her head. “It’s Gunnvald’s house, but he’s in hospital. I live on the other side of the glen.”
“Yes, I should’ve realized, with red hair like yours.”
Astrid’s jaw dropped. The lady sat down on Astrid’s usual chair, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to sit right there. On Astrid’s chair.
“Are you Sigurd’s sister?”
Astrid was even more stunned. “No, he’s my dad.”
The lady, who had been looking out of the window, turned to Astrid with a surprised expression. “Well I never,” she murmured.
As usual, the little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal showed that she was more courteous and welcoming than the average person.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, thinking that it couldn’t do any harm to use the pot one more time before blowing it up.
The lady didn’t want any coffee.
“What exactly are you doing here?” she asked instead.
“What am I doing here?” Astrid said, confused. “I’m feeding Hulda.”
“Do you know Gunnvald, then?” the lady asked harshly.
Astrid told her that Gunnvald was her neighbour, godfather and best friend.
“Is that so?” The lady sniffed, sizing up Astrid yet again.
Most holidaymakers in Glimmerdal look at Astrid like that when they first meet her: from her lion’s mane of curls on top, past her freckled face, over her clothes, which are always a little messy, down to her feet, where Astrid has one foot that points forward and one that points a little out to the side. But Astrid had never been scrutinized as thoroughly as this before. She almost felt she should have a little glance at herself, to make sure she didn’t look weird or anything.
“I think you should go home,” the lady said. “I’ll feed the cat from now on.”
“No way!” Astrid crossed her arms decisively, but the lady just smirked at her.
“You’ll do as I say,” she said quite simply, nodding in the direction of the flagpole.
Astrid gulped and fished her hat down from the hook where it was hanging. “I’ll be back,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In which Dad reveals
something really shocking
Sometimes it’s extremely annoying being a child. Astrid had never noticed it so much before now, though. Most people in Glimmerdal treated her like an adult. She got to help make decisions, and people didn’t have any secrets that she didn’t know about. At least that’s what Astrid thought.
That day, everything was turned upside down. Astrid suddenly found out something that everybody else had known all her life but nobody had told her. Astrid’s best friend, her dad, her mum, her granny, her grandpa and everybody else had a secret. Even Sally had known: she can’t keep so much as a little fart of a secret, yet she had never told Astrid this hugely important thing.
And this is how Astrid found out the truth:
Once she’d walked calmly out of Gunnvald’s kitchen and continued in an enormous arc around the flagpole, Astrid Glimmerdal started running like she’d never run before. She reached the bridge just as her dad was turning off to drop Sally at her house.
“Dad, there’s a woman making herself all at home at Gunnvald’s place! And a dog and…”
Astrid’s dad helped Sally out of the car.
“What are you saying?” Sally asked, all flustered, squeezing Astrid’s dad’s elbow so hard that the pain made him open his mouth wide.
Astrid told them breathlessly about the tall woman with the tousled hair and the black eyes, while her dad took Sally and her bags up the steps to her house.
“Dad, she knew who you were!” Astrid shouted.
“Did she?” he said, surprised, looking up the track to Gunnvald’s farm.
He stroked his beard pensively, then suddenly stopped. For the first time in her life, Astrid saw her dad lose his usual calm for a brief moment.
“It can’t be Heidi, can it?” he asked Sally.
“Heidi?” Sally echoed in disbelief.
Astrid stood there like a big question mark, while Sally rummaged frantically in her shopping bag for her new jar of pills.
“Heidi?” she babbled. “Heidi? After all these years? Praise the Lord!”
“Heidi?” Astrid asked, confused. “Like in the book?”
Suddenly Astrid’s dad seemed in more of a hurry than Astrid could remember ever seeing him in before. She had to jog to keep up with him as they climbed the hill to Gunnvald’s farm.
“Dad!”
In the farmyard, Astrid slowed down a little as her dad walked on ahead. She had to keep her distance from that horrible dog that was still snarling there.
When she finally reached the steps, her dad had already knocked, and the enormous woman had opened the door. They stood there for a long while, looking at each other without saying a word. Then Astrid’s dad cleared his throat.
“Haven’t you grown?” he said.
The lady forgot herself and a smile flickered across her face, but it quickly disappeared.
“Dad?” Astrid said from behind him. She couldn’t understand what was going on.
He took her by the shoulder and placed her in front of him. “I understand you’ve already met each other. This is Astrid, my daughter,” he said proudly. Then he nodded towards the lady at the door. “And, Astrid, this is Heidi.” He squeezed the back of her neck a little before he added, “Gunnvald’s daughter.”
No way! Astrid stared first at her dad, then at the woman in the doorway, and then back at her dad. The dog snarled behind them.
“Gunnvald doesn’t have a daughter.” Astrid’s voice was quite certain, even though she now realized that this Heidi did actually look like a chip off the old block, almost as if she’d been blown straight out of Gunnvald’s enormous nose.
“He doesn’t have a daughter!” she repeated.
The lady gave Astrid a cold look. “No, I guess he doesn’t,” she snapped. Then she nodded to Astrid’s dad. “Good to see you’re still hanging on, Sigurd, but I can manage on my own.”
She closed the door.
It wasn’t an easy trip for Astrid’s dad as he walked back down the hill from Gunnvald’s farm with Astrid, fetched the car and drove them up to their farm. Astrid was getting very angry. What kind of trickery was all this?
“Gunnvald had a German girlfriend for a few months when he was young,” Astrid’s dad began warily. “A girl he met at some fiddle music thing or other in Germany.”
“Anna Zimmermann?” Astrid asked.
Her dad looked at her in surprise. “Yes, Anna Zimmermann. But it didn’t last very long, from what I’ve heard. Anna disappeared and then four years later she turned up in Glimmerdal. She had a four-year-old girl with her, called Heidi.”
Astrid stared at him, open-mouthed.
“Gunnvald had no idea he was a dad until the day he saw the girl on his doorstep. Anna Zimmermann stayed for a few days in Glimmerdal. Then she left, leaving the child with Gunnvald.” Astrid’s dad scratched his beard and shook his head. “It certainly caused a bit of a commotion. Nobody could see how it would work.
All his life, Gunnvald had never had anybody other than himself to think of, then suddenly he had a four-year-old to look after.”
“But, but…?” Astrid stuttered.
“Anna Zimmermann was a famous violinist,” her dad explained. “She travelled all over the world performing concerts. She must have thought it would be better for Heidi to live with Gunnvald.”
“Heidi lived in Glimmerdal? With Gunnvald?”
Astrid was completely stunned. Her dad nodded.
“Yes, she grew up here. We used to play together every single day when we were little. We were always running around in the mountains, and Heidi taught me and my little brothers all sorts of things.”
It was unusual for Astrid’s dad to say so much all at once. It was as if somebody had opened a secret door inside him, and now the words poured out.
“Anna came to visit every now and then. She was a very elegant lady. She called Heidi ‘Adelheid’, because apparently that was her real name, and she brought lots of expensive clothes for her and spoke German to her. My brothers and I used to get fancy foreign chocolate. One time, Anna brought Heidi a miniature fiddle, and then the next time she brought her a slightly bigger one. But she was never here for very long. And when Anna left, Heidi would put away her fancy clothes and put on her scruffy old ones. But she played the fiddles. They used to play together, her and Gunnvald. She took lessons in town and got pretty good after a while.”
“But,” Astrid said again. She couldn’t understand why Gunnvald had never mentioned a thing about this!
“And then, when Heidi was twelve, Anna came and took her away.”
“Huh?”
Astrid’s dad nodded. “That was almost thirty years ago, and nobody in Glimmerdal has seen Heidi since then. The rumour was that she became as good at the violin as her mother back in Germany. I don’t know whether it’s true.”
Astrid stood there, her arms down by her sides. She had neither the strength to walk nor the energy to sit down.