Astrid the Unstoppable

by Maria Parr

  “What did Gunnvald say, though?” she asked eventually.

  Her dad’s face took on a strange expression. “Gunnvald said nothing. He tore down all his pictures of Heidi and made a big bonfire in the garden with all her smart clothes and…” He stopped.

  “Go on,” Astrid ordered him, with tears in her eyes.

  “I was only ten, Astrid. I can’t remember very much about it,” he mumbled. “But I spent a long time angry with Gunnvald about that bonfire.”

  They arrived at their farm and got out of the car. Snorri came screeching over, landing happily on Astrid’s dad’s shoulder. In the barn the ewes were bleating; they’d soon be ready for lambing. Nothing was different, and yet everything had changed.

  “Why did nobody tell me?”

  Astrid was very upset. There she’d gone, being best friends with a stubborn old mule, telling him all sorts of secrets, like best friends should, while that numbskull hadn’t said a word about having a towering great daughter. Nobody had said anything!

  Dad scratched the back of his neck and glanced over at her. “Nobody’s spoken about Heidi since then, Astrid. Gunnvald wouldn’t be able to take it.”

  “What do you mean, he wouldn’t be able to take it?”

  Then Astrid’s dad told her that one of his little brothers had once asked if Heidi was ever coming back. Gunnvald flew into such a rage that he threw a kitchen chair at the wall and said he never wanted to hear that name again for the rest of his life.

  Shaking, Astrid took a deep breath. Gunnvald was the man she’d spent every single day of her life with, and she was so fond of him that the very thought made her heart creak and groan. But suddenly it was as if she didn’t know him any more.

  “Do you know what your mum said when she heard the story about Gunnvald and Heidi?” her dad asked.

  Astrid shook her head.

  “‘Gunnvald needs somebody to love again.’ That’s what she said. She was the one who decided that Gunnvald should be your godfather.”

  “Was she?”

  “Yes. Of course, Gunnvald wasn’t exactly desperate to be the godfather of a stinky little baby, as he himself said, but he agreed to it in the end, after your mum used all her wit and charm.”

  Astrid’s dad smiled. “I think you’ve been the best medicine Gunnvald could ever have had, Astrid. He’s almost behaved like a normal person for the past few years.”

  Astrid didn’t know what to say, what to do or what to think. Her dad stuck a dry stalk of last year’s hay in his mouth.

  “Life isn’t always easy for some people, Astrid. It’s been extra difficult for Gunnvald and Heidi.”

  After that, Astrid’s dad didn’t say any more that evening.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  In which Heidi reveals

  her awful plan

  When Astrid woke the next morning, she decided to blow up the coffee pot. She dug around in her drawer and took out the massive firecrackers Auntie Eira had secretly given her the year before. That reminded Astrid: it wasn’t long to go until she’d be ten, which would be a milestone birthday.

  “It’s a milestone.” That’s what Astrid’s granny says when people have their fiftieth, sixtieth or seventieth birthdays.

  A round-number birthday is a bit bigger than a normal birthday. And ten is as round a number as you can get. Astrid had decided to have a massive party. Maybe she could put an advert in the local paper and have an open-house party with everybody invited?

  The night before, she’d lain awake thinking about everything her dad had told her. She’d thought about Gunnvald throwing a kitchen chair at the wall, and she’d thought about Heidi’s jet-black eyes. Then she’d thought about the Heidi from the book. It was strange that there was both a real Heidi and a made-up one, Astrid thought. Before she fell asleep, she’d decided to make friends with the real Heidi.

  When Astrid arrived at Gunnvald’s farm that morning, Heidi was sitting on the steps outside the house, drinking coffee. Just like Gunnvald usually did. Astrid had to ride her bike in a strange loop, because of the dog, and fell over like a five-year-old with no stabilizers. What a horrible mutt! He snarled and growled, and looked like he wanted to eat her.

  “You’ve got a seagull on your head,” Heidi observed, once Astrid had struggled to her feet.

  “I know.”

  Astrid carefully lifted Snorri down. She needed to have a proper look at Heidi now that she knew what was what. Just think: Heidi had grown up in Glimmerdal, like her. Maybe she knew all the good places down by the river? Maybe she knew about the eagles’ nest below Cairn Peak? Maybe she’d spent the night in a sleeping bag up at Glimmerdal Shieling? Had she drunk Sally’s bad squash? Maybe she’d done everything Astrid did?

  “This is the third time now you’ve been here in less than a day,” said Heidi. “I don’t like seagulls, and I don’t like visitors.”

  “This isn’t your farm,” Astrid said calmly.

  Heidi laughed harshly. “Yes, it is, actually.”

  “No, it’s Gunnvald’s farm.” Astrid looked firmly at Heidi.

  Then the tall woman pulled a letter out of her shirt pocket. Astrid recognized it. It was the letter she’d posted for Gunnvald just over a week ago, the one addressed to Ms A. Zimmermann. It suddenly dawned on her that Ms A. Zimmermann wasn’t the late Anna Zimmermann, as she’d thought: Ms A. Zimmermann was Heidi. Astrid’s dad had told her the day before that Heidi’s real name was Adelheid.

  The letter was frayed at the edges. Astrid was starting to regret having sent it. She should’ve eaten it instead.

  “Gunnvald thought he was going to kick the bucket,” Heidi said quite directly. “He’s given the farm to me. That’s what it says in this letter, black on white. The whole place is mine now.”

  What on earth? Astrid frowned. But only briefly. If Heidi really was Gunnvald’s daughter, then she would’ve inherited his farm anyway. It was hardly a scandal. Astrid shrugged her shoulders and acted as if she didn’t care.

  Then Heidi stood up, towering over Astrid. “Do you know what I’m going to do with this farm, Astrid?”

  Astrid shook her head. Was she going to live there, perhaps? Or start an organic farm, like that man over in Barkvika?

  “I’m going to sell it,” Heidi announced. “I’m going to sell the whole lot and never set foot here again.”

  “You’re going to sell the farm? Now?” Astrid was so surprised, she was practically shouting.

  “That’s right. As soon as possible.”

  The little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal stared at Heidi, terror-stricken. “Where’s Gunnvald going to live, then?”

  Heidi put the letter back in her shirt pocket and spat out some snus. “I couldn’t care less about Gunnvald,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Then everything went black for Astrid. Never had a single sentence made her so angry. Something snapped in her head, and for the second time in her life, Astrid got into a fight. This time, though, she should have thought about it a little more carefully. It was like a squirrel attacking a dinosaur. Heidi caught her in mid-air and held her in her iron grip. It was as easy as pie for her.

  ‘You’re not allowed not to care about Gunnvald!” Astrid yelled fiercely, kicking and thrashing about.

  “Sure I am,” Heidi said calmly. “Stop screaming.”

  But Astrid wouldn’t stop, because Gunnvald was her best friend and had treated her kindly her whole life. And if Gunnvald couldn’t come home, then he’d die, she was sure of that. Then what would Astrid do? What was Glimmerdal without Gunnvald? The very thought made her feel all dark inside. It wasn’t even possible.

  “You can’t sell it! I’ll tell everybody in all of Glimmerdal, so nobody will buy it,” Astrid snarled.

  Heidi let go of her. “Tell as many people as you like, Astrid. I’d speak to that bloke down at the holiday camp, if I were you, as he’s practically bought the place already. He said something about building some cabins. There’s a better view from up here than down there
in the hollow.”

  That was it. She had to be the maddest woman Astrid had ever met. You couldn’t sell Gunnvald’s farm to Mr Hagen! If you did, it would be over Astrid Glimmerdal’s dead body. She had to put a stop to this, and she knew exactly where to start. One thing was for sure: if it hadn’t been for the coffee pot, all this misery would’ve been avoided. Astrid stomped up the steps, her feet like rocks.

  The pot was on the kitchen table. It was steaming. The green book was open next to it. For a brief moment, Astrid thought about taking the book with her. She wanted to find out what happened to Heidi in Frankfurt. But then she realized that she couldn’t manage any more Heidis for the time being. What she needed now was an explosion. A massive one.

  Astrid took the coffee pot and walked past Heidi on the steps outside the house without even glancing at her. Calmly, and as cool as ice, Astrid emptied out the coffee over what was supposed to be Gunnvald’s herb garden. He’d taught her that coffee was especially good for the chives. Heidi didn’t say anything: she just sat there on the steps, watching with interest as the little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal placed the coffee pot in the middle of the farmyard, put an enormous charge of firecrackers inside, fished a lighter out of her pocket, lit the firecrackers, and ran for cover behind Gunnvald’s wheelbarrow.

  Five seconds passed, and then there was such an enormous bang that people ducked right across the glen. It sounded like the sky was falling. Sally had to take one of her pills, Gladiator stopped chewing up at the summer barn, and the terrifying dog crouched down onto his stomach, squeaking like a mouse.

  But the blasted coffee pot was still in one piece.

  “I’ll be back,” Astrid told Heidi.

  “I have no doubt you will,” Gunnvald’s daughter replied drily, continuing to drink her coffee as if nothing had happened.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  In which life becomes unbearable,

  and Astrid meets some old friends

  “Ah, so you’re alive?”

  Astrid marched into Gunnvald’s room, barely noticing that two other men were asleep in there. Gunnvald looked puzzled, like a big question mark. He had no idea yet. He didn’t know that his farm would soon be in the hands of Klaus Hagen. He didn’t know that Astrid had been in a fight with his giant daughter, or that she’d ridden her bike down the glen like a lunatic to catch the eleven o’clock boat to town, or that she’d had to beg Able Seaman Jon to let her travel without a ticket, promising that she’d bring him the money on her way home, or that she’d found the way to the hospital in town all by herself, although not before getting lost many times. Gunnvald knew nothing of all this. But there was the little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal, and she was angry: that much he could see.

  Astrid paid no attention to the fact that Gunnvald had recently had an operation and was feeling rotten.

  “You have a daughter,” she started by telling him, in case Gunnvald might have forgotten. “And you’ve given her your farm. And she’s planning to sell it to Mr Hagen. And she’s got a dog that eats people like me, and—”

  Astrid stopped just as suddenly as she’d begun, when she saw that Gunnvald’s face had gone all pale.

  “Did she…” Gunnvald began.

  “Did she what?”

  “Did she come?” Gunnvald whispered.

  “Yes,” Astrid muttered, scratching her cheek for a moment.

  Then neither of them knew what to say. Astrid sank into the chair next to Gunnvald’s bed. The two men in the beds next to his snored away. Astrid missed having Gunnvald at home in Glimmerdal. But when she turned to Gunnvald to tell him how terribly she missed him, she saw that he’d hidden his face in his hands, and his whole body was shaking. Good heavens! Gunnvald was crying. Astrid was so surprised that she didn’t know what to do.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little cry,” Astrid’s mum had told her once.

  Astrid remembered when she’d said it. It was when Peter’s father had died. Astrid had felt scared, because Peter was crying so much.

  “When people cry, some of the pain runs out, and then it’s easier to help them feel better,” her mum had told her.

  But Astrid had never seen Gunnvald cry before. She didn’t know how she could make him feel better. She gently stroked her hand over his uncombed hair. With Gunnvald’s hands still covering his face, she took a breath and told him the whole story. She told him about the dog in the kitchen, that Heidi had sat down on Astrid’s chair, and that her dad had said how much Heidi had grown.

  “Seriously, she’s huge,” Astrid added.

  She even told him that she’d fought with Heidi, but she didn’t tell Gunnvald it was because Heidi had said that she couldn’t care less about him. Astrid couldn’t bring herself to say that.

  “Do you want me to bring her here?” Astrid asked hesitantly after she’d told him everything.

  “No!”

  “Since you’re her father and everything…”

  Then Gunnvald seemed to have finished crying.

  “Her father? Only when it suited her.” His voice was so resentful that Astrid hardly recognized it. “Heidi left me, Astrid! The only reason she’s come back now is because I wrote to tell her I was going to die and that she can have the farm. And sell it.”

  Those last words had a ring to them that Astrid had never heard before. She thought Gunnvald might have thrown a chair then, if he hadn’t been lying there with a fractured femur.

  “Sell the farm,” he said again, shutting his eyes.

  A nurse put his head round the door. He said it wasn’t visiting hours: Gunnvald needed rest, and the other two men in the room needed to sleep. It would be best if Astrid went home. But Astrid didn’t want to go home. She had no idea what she should do.

  “Why did you have to send a letter to that berk of a daughter?” she shouted angrily. “We were getting on fine in Glimmerdal, Gunnvald, weren’t we? You could at least have told me she existed! And, by the way, I don’t have any money for the boat.”

  Gunnvald dug out his wallet from the bedside table and gave her the money for the ferry ticket: both the outward leg she hadn’t paid for and the return journey. He didn’t say a word, but finally he cleared his throat when Astrid shuffled over to the door.

  “Astrid?”

  “Yes?”

  “What does she look like?”

  “Who? Heidi?”

  Gunnvald nodded.

  “She’s got a face that would stop a clock. She’s the spitting image of you,” said Astrid.

  Then she slammed the door shut, waking up both of the snoring men with a start.

  Astrid stood there outside the hospital, her hands down by her sides, and the banknote Gunnvald had given her flapping in the wind.

  “My life’s ruined,” she moaned, which was what Auntie Eira said sometimes when things were going against her.

  “Your problems are like a fart in the ocean,” Auntie Idun would tell her then.

  “Well, my fart in the ocean’s ruined anyway,” Auntie Eira would answer.

  Astrid had to smile a little when she thought of her aunts. But then she became serious again. This was no fart in the ocean. If it was, then it had to be the world’s biggest fart. A fart the size of a mountain. Heidi, Gunnvald’s angry daughter, had come to Glimmerdal. She couldn’t care less about Gunnvald, her own father. She’d even left him. And now she’d got his farm and was going to sell it to Klaus Hagen. What would happen to Gunnvald? Would he have to move down to the sheltered housing like Nils and Anna? Or to the retirement home in Barkvika? Astrid sat down on the edge of a statue. She had no strength in her legs any more.

  “Astrid!”

  A voice came flying through the air like a cannonball. She didn’t know anybody in town, did she? But she did! He came running across the car park, looking quite dangerous in his baggy trousers and his T-shirt with a skull on it and letters dripping in blood.

  “Ola!” Astrid shouted happily.

  “Do you want me to punch you?” he
squealed, clearly remembering how they’d fought the first time they’d met.

  All the wonderful memories from February half-term popped up again from nowhere and danced in the air between them.

  “What are you doing here?” Ola asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Astrid said.

  “I’ve got time, and you’re paying.” He snatched the money from her hand, his eyes sparkling like stars. “It’s been umpteen years since we’ve spent money on anything fun here in town,” he proclaimed, happily waving the money aloft.

  Astrid wouldn’t mind spending some money on something fun. Actually, if truth be told, she felt a burning need to spend money on something fun at that very moment.

  They bought ten big custard buns, with loads of custard inside, and then they went to a sort of cafe, where Ola asked for “Five chocolate-flavoured milkshakes, please.” The lady behind the bar made the thickest milkshake Astrid had ever seen, with vanilla ice cream and real chocolate. She poured it out into five paper cups that were so large Astrid thought they could double as flower vases. She supposed that was how they did things in town.

  While Ola led the way through the town, slurping his milkshake like a dehydrated elk, Astrid told him about the coffee pot and the accident and Heidi and the farm. As for their Easter holiday, she added, it was hanging by a thread; that much was clear. The plan had been that Ola, Broder and Birgitte would come and stay with Gunnvald like last time. That wouldn’t happen if Mr Hagen was going to build another wellness camp up there. Astrid shuddered.

  “I’ve got to think of something clever to make Heidi change her mind!” She looked at Ola in despair.

  “Maybe you could dig a trap to maim her? Just a bit?” he suggested.

  Astrid had already made a point of stressing how incredibly tall and strong Heidi was – she knew these were details that would interest Ola – so she was quite disappointed by his suggestion.

  “I’d have to spend the rest of my life digging to make a hole deep enough. I told you, she’s enormous!”

  “Peter could do it with his digger.”