“Noble men are also human which is something we often forget.”
“You’ve got an answer for everything,” muttered Alexander. “Now we’ll have to wait and see whether my arms have the strength you say they have.”
“If they don’t now, they soon will have,” she assured him.
“Almost every person on the farm and the estates has helped with the chair and all the other things, Alexander. They all wish to see you live your life as fully as possible.”
“You must thank them all,” he said, overcome with emotion. “Give every one of them my sincerest thanks. It’s wonderful to come home to such kindness and thoughtfulness.”
That first day Wilhelmsen looked after Alexander, but after that it was Cecilie’s turn. It turned out that her first task was to settle him for the night.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” she prompted him nervously.
He was feeling just as awkward as she was. “Cecilie, are we really going to do this?”
“There’s a first time for everything. After that it becomes easier.”
Alexander swallowed. “Tarjei says that I need to be washed all over every evening. I perspire a little and that can cause bedsores. But we can ignore that when it’s your turn.”
“Oh, come on!” Cecilie replied with more courage than she felt. “Have you been ... to the toilet?”
“I can manage that by myself,” he answered emphatically.
Cecilie knew that he’d been practicing all day to get in and out of the chair unaided. It must have strained his arm muscles, but even so he’d told her several times how pleased he was with what he called his “chair-cart.” Most uplifting of all was the fact that he’d taken an interest in something. He’d absorbed himself in the practical details of his chair and made some changes, such as obtaining some small brake blocks that he was able to put in place by himself. Although he was adapting to his surroundings, his frustration would show now and then. This was when Cecilie and Wilhelmsen would exchange knowing smiles: he was recovering and that meant more than anything to both of them.
Cecilie had already prepared a bowl of water to wash him. When he was ready, she carefully drew up his nightshirt and he helped her to pull it over his head and shoulders. ‘I’ll be lost if I hesitate now,’ she thought, closing her eyes briefly before she folded back the bedclothes to the foot of the bed.
She noticed immediately that he had an absolutely magnificent body. There had been a moment when she’d wished that he hadn’t been so attractive because then things might have been easier. His skin was tanned and Cecilie imagined this was a family characteristic because Ursula was also dark-skinned. A thin line of black hair ran down his chest, and his whole body was still well toned, although his legs appeared thinner than they should be. ‘They’ll waste away if we don’t do something to prevent it,’ she thought. ‘Oh, Alexander! My dear, dear Alexander!’
She tried not to stare at his body while she washed him with a small cloth. He turned his face away, not wanting to meet her gaze. ‘But this is my husband,’ she was thinking. ‘I’ve known him for more than five years and we’ve been married for one year, and even so we’re shy in front of each other. Why should this be? What sort of marriage is this?’
That was a good question to think about and she was glad that nobody else knew the reason for the marriage.
“There, that part’s done,” Cecilie told him cheerfully. “Now turn over!”
With his help she managed to roll him over onto his stomach and taking care not spill water onto the bed, she gently washed his back.
“The scar isn’t very pretty,” she told him.
“No, you’re right. Tarjei opened the wound twice to try and remove the bullet. He wasn’t able to reach it.”
“Is it lodged deeply?”
“Tarjei says it’s just behind my spine.”
“And does it hurt at all?”
“Not in the slightest.”
She turned him onto his back, helped him put on his nightshirt again and pulled up the bedcovers.
“There! That went very well,” she said, but her smile took a little effort. “Is there anything else you want?”
“No, everything’s fine now. Thank you. And, Cecilie, you’ve got a very gentle touch.”
“Is it good to be home?”
“It’s heaven! I feel that I’m in very safe hands with you and Wilhelmsen.”
“I’m so happy to hear it. Goodnight, Alexander. Gabrielshus has waited too long for your return.”
“Thank you! Sleep well, my friend.”
She snuffed out the candles and walked out carrying the bowl of water.
“Dear God,” she whispered, leaning against the closed door. “Please help me to be strong! Not just in caring for him, for that I very gladly do. But also please help me be strong in – other things, too. You know exactly what I mean!”
Chapter 10
On the fourth night after Alexander had arrived home, Cecilie saw a line of light shining from under the door of his room, which adjoined hers. She lay in her own bed for some time staring at the beckoning glow, then she made a sudden decision, got up and knocked on the door.
“Come in.” His deep voice wasn’t very inviting.
She crept in and closed the rarely used door behind her. She found him lying on his back as usual, but with his arms covering his head, hiding his face. A candle burned beside his bed.
“Are you finding it hard to drop off to sleep?” She spoke softly despite there being no one who could overhear them.
“Yes. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She curled up in an armchair close to the bed. “I can’t get to sleep either.”
Grudgingly he took his hands away from his face. In the weak flickering light from the candle, he looked very tired and drawn.
“It’s been bitterly cold – a real winter’s day. You must be freezing there.”
Cecilie took this to be an invitation. “May I creep in beside you for a while?”
Alexander chuckled. “I don’t think that can do any harm!”
She wriggled her feet down against his. “How limp and lifeless his legs feel,” she thought, as she stretched out on her back beside him.
“Your bed’s warm and cosy.”
“Is it?” he smiled at her. “We’ve never lain together like this, you and I.”
“No,” she replied simply but at the same time she was thinking that it was through no fault of hers.
Alexander smiled again and took her hand in his. “I’m so sorry for your sake. Losing the child, I mean. Does it still make you sad?”
Cecilie held tightly to his hand so that he couldn’t take it away. “Both yes and no. I’d begun to feel for the little life within me as a child all its own. It was someone who needed me to care for it. And if it had been a boy, I would have given you an heir to the family name – I’d completely forgotten the real father, who I’d never had feelings for except as a friend. And yet – I don’t know, Alexander, maybe the fact that the child wasn’t truly yours might have caused problems.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean for me. I can’t help wondering whether you would have seen the child as a cuckoo in the nest, or something like that.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Perhaps not, but I would have always have feared it.”
“Are you saying that what happened was for the best?”
“Of course not. What happened was a tragedy for me. Maybe I’m just trying to comfort myself by inventing problems. Or ...”
“Don’t stop. What are you thinking?”
“You remember what I told you about the witch, Sol? She had a daughter, Sunniva. But she was never able to love the child. She was fond of her – but she never felt love – all because she hated the child’s father.”
“But you don’t hate the vicar?”
“No, I feel pity and shame – which is almost as bad.”
They lay together in complete silence for a long time, still holding each other’s hands. Inside and outside the house, the winter’s night was hushed and still. No sound broke the timeless quiet.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” she asked at last.
“Oh, that’s easy to understand, surely.”
“Yes, it was a foolish question. Alexander, your sister told me much about your childhood.”
He turned his head away abruptly. “Why did she have to bring all that up again?”
“So you do remember it all?”
“Yes, I do.”
Cecilie was hurt. “But you told me you didn’t ...”
“Dear Cecilie, I didn’t lie to you. Not really. You believe I’ve hidden those memories deep within me so I can no longer be troubled by them, isn’t that so?”
“Yes, that’s what I thought.”
“Well, that isn’t how it is. I remember it all – horribly clearly, but can’t you see those events must be forgotten? I’ve sworn to myself that I’ll never speak about them, as if they’ve never taken place. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t a very practical ...”
He interrupted her sharply. “But that’s why I said I didn’t remember.”
Cecilie waited a moment or two then said: “But now that I’ve heard it all ...”
Again he interrupted her brusquely: “You’ve heard Ursula’s account – not mine!”
Again, Cecilie waited quietly for some moments before she asked: “Don’t you think I have the right to hear your account as well?”
“Oh, what purpose will that serve?”
“Understanding.”
“Cecilie, you cling on to some sort of idea that I can change myself. You must forget such imaginings. It won’t ever happen. And what does it matter, now, anyway?”
“I know it’s easy for me to say this, Alexander, but please don’t sound so bitter! I want you to tell me what happened only because your life interests me. You, as a person, interest me. There are so many puzzling gaps in your life.”
“So let me remain a little mysterious,” he countered.
“A little mysterious? Alexander, when you were small, you were normal about the relations between boys and girls. That was why you often sneaked into your father’s chamber of sin. With a young boy’s natural curiosity, you probably enjoyed very much looking at all those naked women. So you were ...”
“No, no,” he said, stopping her. “You’re quite wrong. I didn’t like them at all.”
“Then why did you go to look at them?”
“Because my mother forced me to! To horrify me, and make me not like other women! ‘Look at those dreadful creatures,’ she’d say to me. ‘Stay away from all women, Alexander darling! Stay with your mother, always, always. Never leave your mother, Alexander!’ Those were the sort of things she’d say.”
“So it was your mother who forced you into an unnatural way of love?”
“No, Cecilie, it was much more complicated than that. You must not try and make this into some sort of emotional inquisition.”
“But you admit that you weren’t born like that?”
“How was I to know what a man should feel about love when I was only six years old? At that age it’s of no importance.”
“Yes, that’s true. So what happened? Where did things go wrong?”
“Did things have to go wrong somewhere, Cecilie? Can’t you just accept that I am who I am?”
“I want to know what happened!”
“Oh, it was all so complicated and I can’t recall everything. Only bits, here and there.”
“So let me hear them!”
“You’re the most insistent person I’ve ever met!”
Cecilie waited for him to continue. She felt sure he would because now he was holding firmly onto her hand. Eventually he began speaking again very quietly.
“I remember my mother’s fear of being abandoned, and in some way I can sympathize with her. She’d lost so many of her children and my father didn’t care for her at all.”
“Not at all?”
“No. You see, on one occasion when my mother sent me to the portrait room to learn to hate everything about women, well ... my father was there, naked ... and in the company of two naked women. This was when he announced that I was to be beaten for intruding upon his privacy.”
“Didn’t your mother know anything about these women?”
“I don’t know. It might be that she sent me in there knowingly, or maybe she was completely unaware. But that’s beside the point.”
“Did you get ten lashes then?”
“No.”
“So I was right? About the servant who was ordered to beat you?”
“I don’t know what theory you have, but he promised that he wouldn’t beat me if I ... did certain things ...”
Cecilie nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought! So that was when it began?”
“Yes. Six years of purgatory, Cecilie. I should have taken those beatings, but I was a child and a coward. I did what he wanted me to. At first, I was sick with disgust but I became accustomed to it. He threatened me with the most terrible punishment if I so much as breathed a word of it. On the other hand he rewarded me if I did as he asked. The punishments he threatened were absolutely ridiculous. But I was young and foolish so I believed him.”
“And then you were found out?”
He stiffened immediately at her question. “Yes. There was a terrible scene. I’ll never forget it, no matter how hard I try. My mother’s unbalanced mind left her that day, Cecilie. She went mad. In fact, she never recovered and died the following year. I felt that I’d caused her death.”
“And the manservant?”
“Hanged!”
“Oh, Alexander, you’ve gone through so much suffering!”
His silence told her that he agreed with her and he gripped her hand more tightly. Cecilie suddenly felt impatient and turned towards him.
“Now I’m able to understand better the despair you must have known when you discovered that you had no passion for girls – but felt passionately for boys instead.”
“Yes, the servant’s abuse of me as a child certainly had an impact. Or maybe it was because I felt that those paintings were so disgusting. It might even have been my father’s episodes with other women – or my mother’s love that clung to me like a leech.”
“Maybe it was all those things.”
“Most probably. But don’t forget my natural tendency. We’ve not considered that in any way, Cecilie ...”
She interrupted him.”I don’t believe that at all!”
He turned towards her as far as he could and grasped her hair tightly as a sign of warning.
“Cecilie, you’ve been trying to understand the reason for my attitude towards women. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. But you’ve no reason to look down on those who were born with a different view of love! You are strong and compassionate but you mustn’t condemn them! Not you of all people! It’s enough that we must suffer the condemnation, the hatred, the contempt and the persecution of so many people. Do you understand?”
She nodded. There was a lump in her throat. “Trust me, I’ll never judge anyone,” she assured him.
“There are good and bad people among us ‘outcasts’ just as there are among you ‘normal’ people. Our tendencies don’t give us an excuse to do evil things. Most of us are normal, pleasant human beings. By now you should understand that I’ll never be different – nor do I wish to be. People want to save us from our misery but none of us is miserable. We just want to be ourselves. We don’t want to be different from anybody else. Once we’ve accepted our situation, Cecilie, we’re happy.
If only we could be left alone! It’s all of you who are our greatest problem. The ruthless hunt to seek us out – to seek out everyone who’s different is no longer of consequence to me now. My future ...”
He fell silent all of a sudden without reason or warning. Cecilie said nothing but she hoped he’d be aware of the sympathy she felt as she lay close next to him. When it was obvious that he didn’t want to continue where he left off, she sat up in the bed and looked down at him.
“When you were away at war, you were among many men. Did you feel attracted to anyone there?”
“No,” he laughed, “the only person I grew to like at all was your dear cousin, Tarjei – and I think that was simply because he’s like you in many ways.”
“Does that mean you like me?” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “You know I do. As my dearest friend. Just as you like me.”
“Yes,” she said feebly, “just as I like you.”
She ought to have left him then to sleep and return to her bedroom, but she didn’t want the wonderful harmony they’d found at that moment to end.
“Is there no feeling in your legs?”
“None at all.”
“Not even the slightest?”
“No, I’m a cripple from the waist down. The only thing I’ve felt is a very slight tingling in my right leg once or twice.”
“So you’ve felt something?”
“My little Cecilie, it was so very unimportant. I told Tarjei about this some time ago and he called it a ‘phantom pain.’ Maybe you’ve heard of such a thing? It happens to soldiers and others who’ve lost an arm or a leg. Suddenly they’ll sense pain in fingers or toes that are no longer there. It’s a strange phenomenon. I didn’t feel pain, merely a tiny twitch or tingling – no more than an ant crawling on my leg.”
“But it was inside your leg that you felt it?”
“Oh, dear God, Cecilie! Please don’t try to transform me all over again! Sometimes you can be very tiring!”
But Cecilie had already jumped out of bed and, ignoring the cold floor, she stood at the end of the bed near his feet.
“The right one, did you say?”
Friendship Page 16