Astrid the Unstoppable

by Maria Parr

  Astrid shook her head. It was a terrible suggestion, and a bit of a violent one too.

  “I know! You can take her hostage!”

  “Taking Heidi hostage is just as idiotic as digging a trap,” said Astrid.

  “You can take her dog hostage,” Ola shouted, jumping up and down.

  Astrid could almost see the sugar going on a roller-coaster ride round his veins. She shook her head even harder.

  “Come on, it’s a brilliant idea!” Ola insisted. “You take her dog hostage, and then you tell her she won’t get it back until she does what you want! You can lock the dog up in—”

  “No,” said Astrid. She wasn’t going to do anything that involved dogs. Not under any circumstances.

  They’d arrived at the tall block of flats where Ola’s family lived. It had a lift. Astrid almost felt a bit jealous. Imagine having a lift you could take every day. She’d have to ask Gunnvald if he could make one for her some time. Barely had the thought crossed her mind before she sighed. Gunnvald couldn’t make a lift from his hospital bed.

  “Astrid!” the others shouted in chorus as they entered the small flat.

  “We’ve brought milkshakes and custard buns,” Ola announced proudly, taking the bag from Astrid.

  Everybody was so happy to see her. Astrid stood there, simply smiling back. Birgitte screamed with joy as she came running over, wanting to be lifted up. Their mother stroked Astrid’s lion curls, just like Astrid’s own mum did. But when they heard that Gunnvald was in hospital, their smiles vanished.

  “You should’ve told us,” their mother said. “Poor Gunnvald. We can go and visit him as often as he can bear.”

  “I don’t know what he can bear now,” Astrid mumbled. Then she told the whole story one more time, about Heidi and the farm.

  Everybody around the table fell silent when she’d finished.

  “Selling the farm is the worst thing anybody could do to Gunnvald,” said Astrid. “I think Heidi hates him.”

  Broder hadn’t uttered a word while Astrid was telling the story. He’d put his custard bun down on the table and just sat there, looking at his hands.

  “What about Gunnvald, though?” he said after a while.

  “What about him?” asked Astrid.

  Broder poked his custard bun with one finger. “Has he… Has he ever cared about Heidi?”

  Astrid looked at Broder. His blond hair had grown longer and hung down a little over his eyes. Had Gunnvald ever cared about Heidi? Astrid remembered what her dad had said about Gunnvald throwing chairs and lighting a bonfire when Heidi left. She remembered how Gunnvald’s voice had sounded at the hospital that day. But most of all, she thought of how Gunnvald had never mentioned a word about Heidi. Ever. Is it possible to care about somebody you never mention?

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, eventually.

  When she boarded the ferry a little later, Astrid was so deep in thought that she was startled when Able Seaman Jon came to collect her money.

  “I spent it all,” she admitted, holding her empty hands up to his face. “On milkshakes and custard buns,” she added.

  “Astrid, you can’t keep getting away with not paying every single time you take the ferry!” Able Seaman Jon was at the end of his tether.

  “You can’t throw me in the water. I’m only nine,” the little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal protested.

  “Really, can’t I?” shouted Jon, grabbing hold of Astrid and lifting her up from her seat as if she were a sack of potatoes.

  The other passengers watched in terror as Jon strode the whole length of the saloon with a howling and squirming ticketless passenger over his shoulder. Two young boys, maybe only six years old, hid behind their mother, scared stiff.

  “Have mercy!” Astrid begged, twisting and writhing.

  “This is what happens to anybody with no ticket,” Jon shouted across the saloon. Then he ducked out through the exit, carrying Astrid, his ticket bag and everything else.

  When they got out on deck, he put Astrid down, and they both had to hold on to the railing to stop themselves from collapsing with laughter. They sat out on the windy deck for the rest of the voyage, chatting about this and that, while watching the mountains and the shore and the white-capped waves. It cheered them up.

  “I know you don’t like dogs, Astrid, but one day you should drop by to see Theo at the hair salon. Matisse had five little puppies in early February,” Jon told her as they approached land. “And they’re growing to be pretty handsome dogs!”

  “Really?” Astrid asked. She hadn’t heard about the puppies.

  “Yup. And guess who’s the father?” Jon said proudly.

  “Buster?”

  “You got it!”

  Buster is Able Seaman Jon’s dog. Auntie Eira says that he looks like a pile of wet towels and walks like a lame duck.

  “It was an accident,” Jon explained. “Theo was quite angry, but how am I supposed to make sure Buster doesn’t charm the ladies? Especially exquisite lady show dogs like Matisse.”

  “No, you’re right,” Astrid agreed.

  “And they’re gorgeous puppies,” Jon promised her. “You should go and see them. Maybe you’d lose your fear of dogs.”

  Then Astrid remembered Heidi again. Heidi and the black-haired beast and the farm for sale. Suddenly she felt so downhearted that she sighed out loud.

  “I don’t like dogs,” she told Jon. “Any of them.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  In which Astrid spies on

  somebody who disappears

  Spring couldn’t be stopped, even if everything had changed for some of the people who lived in Glimmerdal. The glen was so full of water bubbling, dripping and glittering that it was a joy to behold. The meltwater flowed down the mountainsides, and the river roared its deep, throbbing song. Astrid had been falling asleep and waking up to those sounds all her life. The voice of the river was as familiar as her own breathing, always there in the background.

  But when Astrid woke up that Sunday morning, she heard the thunderous noises in a new way. She heard the river because she was thinking of Gunnvald, who should have been waking up to the roaring river too, but wasn’t there to hear it. Astrid gazed despondently out of her attic window. The black dog was tied to the flagpole over at Gunnvald’s farm, looking like a little dark blot. It was Heidi living in the house over there now, and soon it would be Mr Hagen. Soon there might not be any house there at all, only cabins and a wellness retreat.

  The evening before, when she’d arrived back from town, Astrid had told her dad everything.

  “You’ve got to talk to Heidi, Dad!”

  Her dad, who isn’t so fond of talking, squirmed in his chair and said, “Hmm.”

  “You chicken!” Astrid shouted, stamping her foot.

  She regretted saying that straight away and buried her head in his stomach, making Snorri quite jealous.

  That morning, at her attic window, Astrid felt more lonely than she’d ever felt before. She looked out at the spring scene and thought it would be best to go for a walk.

  Under the birch tree down below the house, a few snowdrops nodded gently to her as she went past. Astrid nodded back and walked straight over the infield and down the hill. It looked as if the whole glen had kicked off a wintry duvet, she thought.

  She was wearing her thick blue jumper for the first time that year. It was the only item of clothing her mum had ever knitted in her entire life, and Auntie Eira had said that it didn’t look at all normal, but Astrid loved it.

  She stopped by the side of the river to watch the wild water rumbling, thundering and foaming. The spray clung to her face and made her hair even curlier.

  “My river,” said Astrid.

  There was still a lot of snow here and there, but if she kept to the side where the sun had been burning it off, she could still go for a walk up the glen. Maybe she could even make it all the way up to Glimmerdal Shieling. Astrid trudged on, keeping close to the thundering water. There wa
s only the river, the river, the river. No other sounds. No other thoughts. But then Astrid spotted something on the other bank that made her stop suddenly. At first she thought it was Gunnvald, because it was Gunnvald’s jacket. But people who are in hospital with broken thigh bones don’t go for walks.

  It was Heidi.

  She stood there staring down at the river, exactly like Astrid had just been doing. Her hair waved in the gusting wind. After a while, the tall lady started walking up towards Glimmerdal Shieling too.

  Nobody other than the mountains – Cairn Peak and Noon Peak – could see the two girls from the glen, one tall and one small, as they made their way up each side of the thundering river that spring day. Of course, the mountains had seen the little girl in the thick blue woollen jumper all winter, but it took them a while to recognize the other girl, the one in the borrowed jacket and green scarf. When the mountains realized it was Heidi, they smiled to each other, as they remembered her well. But they didn’t say a word. They just watched as the two figures made their way up between patches of snow and withered branches on either side of the river.

  Heidi stopped twice and looked around, as if she could sense somebody following her. Both times, Astrid hit the ground and lay there, motionless. Her feet were wet from treading through the melting snow, while her lion curls and thick jumper were full of dry leaves. But Astrid hardly noticed.

  They were nearly at Glimmerdal Shieling. The old farm buildings had emerged from the snow and were standing there, stretching their old, cracked walls in the sun. Astrid waited apprehensively behind a rock. If Heidi was going to the old farm buildings, she’d have to cross over the old bridge. But Heidi didn’t cross the bridge. She kept on going up her side of the river. Where on earth was she heading? And with no skis? Astrid had never followed the river further up than Glimmerdal Shieling, as that’s where the path turns away from the river and onto the moors.

  Astrid thought about it for a moment. It was impossible to go any further on her side of the river, as there was too much snow, and the trees were too densely packed. She’d have to cross over to Heidi’s side. The little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal waited for a short time, and then scurried over the bridge.

  Now she was right behind Heidi. They walked another couple of hundred metres, and then Heidi finally stopped. They’d come to a small waterfall. Astrid peeked out cautiously from behind a clump of heather.

  Heidi stood right by the thundering water, staring down into the surging current. Then suddenly she put one foot in front of the other, and, while Astrid watched her with eyes as round as gooseberries, Gunnvald’s daughter jumped straight out into the spring thaw. Astrid almost screamed – her hands raced to cover her mouth.

  But Heidi didn’t drown! She didn’t even fall. The giant woman landed with her right foot on a rock beneath the water. She stood balanced on one leg, as steady as a tightrope walker, sizing up the distance. Then, with the ice-cold river water splashing all the way up her thighs, she swung her arms and took off again. She leapt over onto two other invisible rocks. Her jacket swept out straight behind her like a sail, and her green scarf danced like a kite in the wind. Heidi was running across the surface of the river!

  Astrid forgot that Heidi had said she couldn’t care less about Gunnvald. She even forgot that Heidi was going to sell the farm to Mr Hagen. She forgot all about everything, as this was the most dangerous and daring performance Astrid Glimmerdal had ever seen.

  “Speed and self-confidence,” Astrid murmured breathlessly, filled with a deep sense of awe. If only her aunts could see this!

  Astrid was still gaping in admiration when she heard a screech above her head. It was Snorri. He was heading straight for Astrid and her blue woollen jumper. Oh no! He was going to give her away. Astrid crouched down in the heather, trying to make herself invisible.

  “Squaaaaawk!” went Snorri, making Astrid’s eardrums throb.

  “Dearest Snorri, you blessed seagull, please go home,” she begged him.

  Instead, Snorri landed softly on the heather. Soon he’d jump up onto her head, and Heidi would wonder what was so interesting to the seagull behind that bit of heather. Astrid broke into a cold sweat. The last thing she wanted was for Heidi to spot her.

  “I’ll make you a seagull’s castle out of real gingerbread if you just fly away, my dear, stupid Snorri,” she promised him.

  He shuffled his feet a little, then he pushed off and climbed into the sky.

  “Maybe he’s not that stupid after all,” she said in surprise.

  She lay there for a little longer, and then she peeked out.

  Heidi had gone; she’d vanished without a trace. Astrid frowned. None of the trees or the rocks on the other side of the river were big enough for Heidi to have hidden behind. She hadn’t walked off either, as the spring snow was untrodden by human feet both up- and downstream. Had Heidi jumped back over the river? Astrid’s stomach was in knots. Was she there? On the same side as her? Or, even worse, what if Heidi had fallen into the river? Astrid thought back to Heidi hopping across; it wouldn’t have taken much to slip and fall. Astrid stopped worrying about staying hidden. She leapt down to the water’s edge, where she saw something that made the blood in her veins stop flowing.

  Heidi’s green scarf was hanging from a waterlogged branch sticking up from the river, in the middle of the strongest rapids.

  Later, Astrid was ashamed when she remembered her first thought: Now Heidi’s drowned, Gunnvald can come home after all. It was only for a moment, but still. Astrid had no idea that she had such horrible thoughts inside her. Luckily it wasn’t long before her next thought came, which was a kinder one. No!

  “No!” Astrid shouted, running along the riverbank, scanning the roaring waters desperately. “Heidi! Heidi!”

  What could a small person like her do against such a big river? She shouted into the foaming water, the spray lashing at her face. “Heidi!”

  Astrid looked around for something that might help her. A tree she could push out into the water, another person, anything. She climbed up onto an enormous rock where she had a good view down over the rapids. She couldn’t see anything.

  “Heidi!” Astrid yelled again.

  “I’m here, Astrid. Over here.”

  Astrid spun round. Heidi was standing a few metres behind her. Her jacket was dry. Her hair was dry. Only her trousers were wet. She hadn’t drowned at all. She was looking at Astrid with her dark eyes, as alive as a woman can be.

  “I thought you… I saw your scarf…”

  Astrid couldn’t say any more. She was completely drained. Her arms hung down by her sides, and the words stuck in her throat. A lopsided smile appeared on Heidi’s face.

  Then Astrid got angry.

  “Take cover!” is what Auntie Idun usually says when she sees Astrid’s eyes darken like that.

  “You idiot!” Astrid yelled down at Heidi, making the thundering river sound like a game of Chinese whispers by comparison. “Do you know how dangerous it is to frighten people like that?”

  The little thunderbolt of Glimmerdal was boiling with rage in her blue woollen jumper. But Heidi wasn’t fazed.

  “How was I to know you were spying on me?” she said calmly.

  Astrid spun on her heels and jumped down from the rock furiously. “You would’ve known if you knew me!” she bellowed. Then she stomped her way back home, the bushes and branches trembling behind her.

  Heidi caught up with her after a while. They walked in complete silence. Astrid wasn’t planning on looking at that monster of a woman ever again in her whole life. She was so ferociously angry that she was afraid of what she might do. Blinking badgers, what a troll that lady was.

  “Sorry, Astrid,” said Heidi.

  Astrid stopped and turned round. Heidi stopped too. Gunnvald’s jacket had slipped down on one of her shoulders.

  “I did actually know you were following me, but I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.”

  “You knew I was following you
?” a surprised Astrid blurted out. “Where were you when I couldn’t see you, then?”

  “Somewhere secret. You’ll have to have a look when summer comes.” Then Heidi smiled. Not her lopsided smile, but a real smile. It disappeared behind a cloud in less than a second, but still.

  “Nice jumper,” she added. Then she walked past Astrid and strode off homewards.

  “Can’t you just forget about selling the farm?” Astrid shouted at Heidi’s enormous back.

  Heidi didn’t answer.

  “Heidi!” Astrid ran after her and blocked her path so she’d have to stop whether she wanted to or not. “Gunnvald’s got to come home, he—”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Heidi’s voice was so harsh that it made Astrid gulp.

  “But…”

  “Do you hear me? The farm’s mine, and I’ll do what I want with it. That dimwit down at the holiday camp wants to buy it; I want to sell it. End of story.”

  Heidi forced her way past again.

  “Why are you so angry with Gunnvald?” Astrid shouted after her.

  She could’ve bitten off her own tongue. What if Heidi killed her with her bare hands, there below the summit of Noon Peak? Astrid watched, her heart pounding, as Heidi reached out an arm angrily and impatiently. Then Heidi turned round and took a long look at the little girl in the blue woollen jumper.

  “Why are you so fond of your father, Astrid Glimmerdal?” she asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  In which Heidi starts a

  seagull massacre, and

  Astrid hatches a plan

  The next day, Heidi started shooting seagulls. But before that battle commenced, Astrid had been to school, and when she’d come home, her dad had made reindeer meatballs for dinner. He’d definitely done it to cheer Astrid up. Reindeer meatballs are her favourite.

  Astrid’s dad had received an email from her mum.

  “The sea is rising,” her mum had written. “The polar ice is melting and the sea level is rising, but I’ll have to pop back home to Glimmerdal soon.”

  Astrid’s mum was doing all she could to stop the seas from rising. It’s pollution that makes the ice melt and sea levels rise, but it’s still almost impossible to prevent people from doing things that harm the environment.