‘Have you heard?’ Elizabeth Sinclair said as she placed a loaf of bread on the kitchen table and I set out the plates. ‘Archie and Isabel are calling the bairn William Eric.’
I looked at her, startled but pleased. ‘Are they?’ I still felt dazed when I recalled the events of that night. I had been so certain it would be a disaster – and if it had been a difficult birth or if Isabel hadn’t been so young and healthy, it might have been – yet everything had gone smoothly. Was that really my doing? For the first time ever, a new, assertive voice spoke up inside my head, saying to the spectre of Anders who inhabited my mind: You see? I am capable! I am!
But it was thanks to Bill too, of course. Without him, I was sure I’d have gone to pieces that night.
Elizabeth’s face crinkled in a smile. She was almost eighty, but as spry and energetic as a woman twenty years younger, and she reminded me, almost startlingly, of Ingunn, with her fluffy white hair and wiry frame. Eirik had noticed the similarity too; on our first night here, he’d turned to me after we had climbed into bed and said, in a whisper, ‘Mamma, does Tante Ingunn have a sister in Shetland?’
The door to the cottage thumped open as Elizabeth’s husband, Donald, came in from feeding the sheep. He was Elizabeth’s opposite physically in every way: tall with broad, sloping shoulders, and enormous hands that could wind a skein of wool into a ball for his wife as skilfully as they could mend a fence or lift stones to repair a wall, and although he was only a year younger than her his hair was still dark, with only a few threads of grey. The Sinclairs, Elizabeth had told me, had lived on this croft for generations. Donald had been a friend of her brother; she’d met him at a dance at Talafirth, and they’d married at eighteen. It was clear he still adored her, and she him; sometimes when I saw the way he touched the back of her hand or the way she’d look at him, her eyes soft and a half smile on her lips, I’d feel a small, tugging pain beneath my breastbone I couldn’t quite explain.
‘Ach, it’s a day o’ dirt oot there,’ Donald said in his rumbling voice as he sat down heavily in the chair by the stove to remove his boots. His accent was the broadest I had heard yet, but, bar the odd word, I could understand the local dialect quite easily now.
‘Now, where’s da peerie bairn?’ Donald said, turning with a smile to look for Eirik, who was sitting in the corner, absorbed in yet another copy of The Beano that one of Bill’s friends, Lewis, had sent over from the station. Eirik looked round at Donald and grinned, jumping up to show him what he was reading. Although we’d only been here a week the two of them were already firm friends, and Donald didn’t seem to mind Eirik following him around like a shadow as he got on with his work around the croft. Eirik’s English wasn’t quite as fluent as mine yet, but he had spoken it back in Kirkenes and was picking up more all the time, often mimicking Donald’s broad Shetland accent and making him roar with laughter. Watching them, I smiled too. The cottage was tiny, with only three rooms – the kitchen, a bedroom where Donald and Elizabeth slept and a parlour built as a later addition to the original house, where Eirik and I had a bed made up – but it was homely and cosy, and my son had colour in his face again for the first time in as long as I could remember, his cough almost gone. Only his nightmares seemed to linger. Most nights I still found myself surfacing from the clinging grip of my own bad dreams to hear him crying out in his sleep. I’d have to gently wake him so he didn’t disturb Donald and Elizabeth and hold him until he was calm again.
The rich smell of mutton stew filled the air: dinner was ready. Just as we were sitting down to eat, there was a knock at the door.
‘Now, who could dat be?’ Donald grumbled, getting up again. He went to the door, opening it again just a crack against the cold wind and sleety rain that had been driving down outside all day. I heard a man’s voice, and when Donald came back to the table he had an envelope in his hand. ‘One of da sodjers from da camp,’ he said. ‘It’s for you.’ He handed me the envelope.
My name was written on the front in a neat, official-looking hand. With some trepidation, I slit the envelope carefully with my knife so that Elizabeth could reuse it. What did they want? Were they going to try and send me and Eirik to London again? Surely not in this weather. The island had been battered by storms again for the last six days and even the ship that usually brought supplies to Fiskersay hadn’t been able to dock at Talafirth yet.
There was a note inside: a brief summons, written on a typewriter and signed by Flight Lieutenant Jackson, asking me to attend the camp tomorrow afternoon. It didn’t say why.
‘What’s wrong, Mamma?’ Eirik asked me.
I tried to smooth away my frown. ‘Nothing, lille vennen.’ Then I added, in English for Elizabeth and Donald’s benefit, ‘I must go up to the camp tomorrow – would you be able to keep an eye on Eirik for me?’
‘Of course,’ Elizabeth said.
That night, I lay awake for a long time, wondering what the following afternoon would bring. The Sinclairs had made me and Eirik feel so welcome. It would be a wrench to leave them, especially so soon. But there was nothing I could do about it. Eirik and I were lucky even to have survived the journey to Shetland, and comfortable though the Sinclairs’ cottage was, we were in limbo here, biding our time until the authorities finally decided what they wanted to do with us. In a way, it would be a relief to finally know. Wherever we ended up, at least Eirik might be able to return to school; perhaps I’d be even able to find work somewhere.
As for returning to Norway, and to Anders, I decided I wasn’t going to think about that for now. I turned onto my side, being careful not to disturb Eirik, who for once was sleeping peacefully. As I closed my eyes, a face formed in the darkness behind my closed lids: Bill’s.
After Isabel’s baby was born, and I was sure it was safe to leave them both to sleep for a while, we’d returned to the dining hall and talked for a while over mugs of brandy-laced tea. There, I’d found out he wasn’t from America, but Canada, and he used to be on a heavy bomber crew. When he’d said used to, his expression closed up; guessing it had something to do with his limp, and the sadness set fast into the lines of his face, I’d quickly changed the subject.
What had happened to him? I wondered now as sleep finally began to steal over me, my thoughts starting to fracture. I hadn’t seen him since that night, yet he kept drifting into my mind. There was something about him that made me want to reach out, touch my fingertips to the grooves in his forehead and around his mouth and smooth them away, as if by doing so I could take away whatever it was that pained him.
Why are you thinking about him? I thought, my eyes opening again. Stop. It’s unlikely you will even see him again. And you’re a married woman.
I spent the rest of the night gazing up into the darkness, wide awake, my mind racing.
*
The next morning, heavy-eyed from lack of sleep, I walked up to the camp. The rain had stopped but the wind was still cold and cutting and the air smelled like snow. Flight Lieutenant Jackson was waiting for me in his office in the Manor. To my surprise, Doctor Gaudie was there too.
‘Mrs Dahlström,’ Flight Lieutenant Jackson said as I sat down. ‘Thank you for coming. We won’t keep you.’ He glanced at Doctor Gaudie, cleared his throat, then continued, ‘It’s been decided, for the sake of the mother and baby, that Mr and Mrs Thomson are going to take young William over to Aberdeen and stay with relatives for the duration of the war. Which creates something of a problem, as it leaves Fiskersay without a nurse.’
In my foggy state, I nodded, trying to understand what all this had to do with me.
‘Doctor Gaudie?’ Flight Lieutenant Jackson said.
The doctor nodded. ‘The Flight Lieutenant here tells me that you trained as a nurse in Norway,’ he said in his gruff voice. ‘Is that correct?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I got all my qualifications – I even worked in a hospital in Oslo for a short while. But I—’ I swallowed. ‘I became pregnant, and had to leave. Then, after I moved to Kirkenes and married, I began to work again in a – how do you say it—’
‘An unofficial capacity?’
I nodded. ‘At the time – this was before the war – the town was growing because of people coming in to work at the iron ore mine and bringing their families with them. Doctor Johannessen was struggling to manage.’ I went on to tell him about the incident with the girl who had been kicked by the horse, and how, after that, Doctor Johannessen had asked if I would help him.
‘And tell me, why did you want to become a nurse?’ Doctor Gaudie said when I’d finished. I didn’t get the feeling he was interrogating me, though; there was genuine interest in his eyes, as if he was talking to a colleague.
‘It was because of my father,’ I said. ‘He was a doctor, and when I was growing up I used to spend time in his surgery, helping him organise his supplies and order medicines and bandages…’ A wave of emotion suddenly rolled over me, making a lump rise in my throat as I remembered those precious hours I’d spend with him, hoping to get a well done or a you’ve done a good job today, Hedda as I showed him the shelves in his store cupboard with their neat rows of bottles, tins and jars, everything checked twice against the inventory. He was so busy that it was the only time I ever spent with him; he rarely took holidays or time off, much to the annoyance of my mother who would argue with him about it late at night when they thought I was in bed, asleep. I had never been close to my mother – even as a child, I was tall and clumsy, the opposite of the dainty, pretty girl she had dreamed of having – but when I was with my father I felt wanted, purposeful. It made his wholesale rejection of me when I discovered I was pregnant even harder to bear. I’d expected it of my mother, but to have him turn away from me too had been a knife through my heart.
I realised the doctor and Flight Lieutenant Jackson were waiting for me to continue. ‘So I decided that when I grew up I’d be a nurse, so I could help people like he did,’ I finished, hoping that the feelings battling inside me just now had not shown on my face.
Doctor Gaudie cleared his throat. ‘Well, you did a grand job delivering that baby – if it wasn’t for you, young Isabel could have been in a lot of trouble. Would you be interested in stepping into her shoes while she’s away?’
It took a few moments for his words to sink in; for me to realise that not only was he offering me and Eirik a safe place to stay and the opportunity to be useful again, but giving me the chance to earn some money, too. I stared at him.
‘We will make all the necessary arrangements for your pay and so on,’ Flight Lieutenant Jackson said. ‘Your son will be found a place at the school, and I will talk to the Sinclairs myself and see if they’re happy to continue accommodating you both. If not, we will find an alternative.’
‘I – I do not know what to say,’ I said.
‘Of course, if you’d rather not, I quite understand – we can try to get you to Lerwick again when the weather clears up, and from there to London—’
‘No, no, it isn’t that. I was just – not expecting this, that’s all,’ I said. ‘I’m very grateful. Eirik would be so scared if they try to put him on a boat again, or a plane – it will be much better for him to be able to settle somewhere for a while. And if I can earn some money, I will be able to contribute towards the Sinclairs’ household expenses and perhaps even save a little for when the day comes for us to return to Norway.’
‘Wonderful.’ Flight Lieutenant Jackson smiled suddenly, a beam that altered his stern countenance completely. He held out his hand and I realised that he meant for me to shake it. ‘We’re very glad to have you, Mrs Dahlström.’
Doctor Gaudie was smiling too, the corners of his eyes creased up. ‘I’m sure the islanders will be happy to hear the news,’ he said as we all stood up. ‘There’s been talk all round the place about how you both helped Isabel.’
Solemnly, I shook hands with them both. I waited until I was outside again to permit myself my own smile, hugging my arms around myself, the weariness from my sleepless night forgotten.
‘Hedda?’
I turned and saw Bill behind me.
‘Hello,’ I said, trying to ignore the way my heartbeat sped up at the sight of him.
‘Hello. What are you doing here?’
I told him, unable to prevent another smile from breaking across my face as I did so.
‘That’s great news,’ he said. ‘Hey – that means you and Eirik will be able to come to the Christmas party.’
‘The Christmas party?’
‘It’s in the entertainment hall in a few weeks’ time. The fellows from the station are putting it on. I was trying to keep out of it but I’ve been roped into making paper chains in my spare time. All the locals are invited and we’ve even got a band from town coming.’
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a party of any kind. Even before the Germans came to Kirkenes, when people did that sort of thing, Anders hadn’t approved of them; he wouldn’t even allow Eirik to go to children’s parties.
But Anders isn’t here, is he? I thought. How will he ever know? ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘We’d love to.’
‘I’ll make sure you and Eirik get an invite. The folks you’re staying with, too.’
‘They’d like that. Thank you.’
We stood there a moment longer. ‘Well, I’d better get going,’ Bill said at last, looking at his watch.
‘Bill,’ I said as he turned to leave.
He looked back at me over his shoulder.
‘Thank you. For helping me with Isabel, I mean. I couldn’t have done that on my own.’
He ran a hand through his hair, his smile becoming wry. ‘Hell, it was an experience, wasn’t it? When I got posted here my fiancée said I’d die of boredom before Christmas, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. I’ve had almost as much excitement in the last few weeks as when I was on aircrew.’
My fiancée. Why did those words make my stomach sink? Of course he was engaged. Despite the lines etched permanently around his mouth and eyes, you couldn’t deny he was a good-looking man. His appearance still reminded me of Magnus a little, but his personality, as I had suspected the first time we spoke, was completely different. Magnus’s sense of humour had been sharp, sometimes to the point of cruelty, but Bill’s seemed to be gentle and kind. And although we had only spoken a few times, I always felt as if he was really listening to me, whereas Magnus’s attention used to wander; I’d often pour my heart out only for him to respond with a vague Mm, as if he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.
No, they couldn’t have been more different, and I was very relieved about that.
‘Perhaps things will be calmer now,’ I said, my words coming after a pause that, to my ears, lasted another beat too long. ‘At least, I hope so.’
‘It should do, unless Jerry gets any ideas,’ he said, squinting up at the sky, and that made me remember something else he’d said just now.
‘You mentioned you were on aircrew – were you a pilot?’ I asked him.
He shook his head. ‘Wireless operator. That’s why they retrained me as a radar operator after—’ He caught himself, as if he’d been about to say something he shouldn’t. ‘Why they retrained me as a radar operator.’
We parted ways then, and I walked slowly back to the Sinclairs, my mind full of everything that had happened to me since Eirik and I had come to Fiskersay, and of the conversation I’d had with Bill just now. I wished I didn’t feel so awkward with him, but even though Anders was thousands of miles away, I always felt that familiar, cringing anxiety I got whenever one of the men in Kirkenes stopped to talk to me: the fear my husband would find out, or one of his friends would see me and tell him. Anders had always hated me talking to other men. Do you want people to think you’re a whore? he’d snarl at me. Never forget, you are MY wife, and you will behave appropriately.
*
Back at the cottage, I told Elizabeth and Donald the news about stepping in as Fiskersay’s nurse.
‘Ach, that’s marvellous!’ Elizabeth said. ‘And of course you and Eirik must stay on here – we won’t hear of you going anywhere else, will we, Donald?’
Her husband shook his head. ‘It brings da place back to life, having da bairn around,’ he said.
‘Does this mean I have to go back to school, Mamma?’ Eirik said, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.
‘Yes, but not yet,’ I said. ‘And when you do, I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends.’
As I settled in front of the fire, picking up the socks I was knitting for Eirik with wool Elizabeth had spun from the Sinclairs’ own sheep, I was thinking about Anders again. I wondered where he was and what he was doing, and just how angry he was with me for running away. Perhaps he would have gone to Sweden now, to the safety of his relative. I was sure he’d survive the war; he always seemed to come out on the right side of things. Would he try to find me? Or would he simply bide his time and wait for me to return? It was as if I was shackled to him by an invisible chain that stretched all the way across the sea back to Norway, its links locked tightly around my neck.
Thoughts of Anders led, inevitably, to thoughts of Kirkenes. What was life like for Ingunn and Marianne at the moment? I often looked through Donald’s newspaper, both hoping and dreading that I might see the town’s name mentioned, but so far, there had been nothing. And what about Mette? Had she managed to pass the radio on to Rolf? Had the Germans come back after I escaped to question her too? Panic gripped my throat as I imagined the dreadful things that could be happening to the people I loved. I wished I could write to them, but I knew my letters would be picked up by the censors; I had seen their work when I was back in Norway, whole paragraphs blacked out and that horrible swastika stamped on the envelopes. Even if I didn’t put an address, the Germans might be able to work out where I was. Worse still, they might punish my friends for receiving a letter from me, thinking they knew where I had gone.
Some of this must have shown on my face, because Elizabeth, who was sitting nearby and working on her own knitting, said softly, ‘Are you all right?’
I nodded. ‘Just thinking of home.’
She gave me a sympathetic smile. ‘This war is a terrible thing. So many people uprooted. But you’ve a home here as long as you need it – you and the peerie bairn both. I hope you know that.’
I had to swallow hard against a sudden lump in my throat. ‘Thank you,’ I said.
But despite her kind words it was hard to feel comforted when I had no idea what the future held. I knew it would be a long time before either I or Eirik forgot what had happened to us. Sometimes I wondered if we would ever be able to leave it behind.