Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
‘Do you go everywhere in this thing?’ I asked, looking out at the vast snowscape as Henrik hurtled along in the twelve-seater minibus. ‘It’s a bit big for the two of us.’
‘I very rarely have just one person in here with me. It’s usually a busload for the retreat programme. But to answer your question – yes, I do. Unfortunately, there isn’t a Maserati in the underground garage that I drive at the weekends.’
‘I didn’t know you had an underground garage?’
‘We don’t.’
‘Oh. Ooo, can we get some peanut M I’d been half worried we might have to get out and push. ‘Remember, you’re the ears. I’ll do the talking.’
‘Charming.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just anxious it goes well.’
‘It will! They’re your family.’
We were barely out of the van when a willowy, silver-haired lady came rushing over.
‘Henny!’ She hugged him, a torrent of Norwegian pouring out.
‘Hei, Nina. This is Sara. She’s English.’
‘Ahhh, well then we speak in English. Hello, Sara. My godson has an eye for a beautiful woman.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ I blushed as she hugged me, unsure of whether to correct her.
‘Just a friend,’ Henrik said and Nina nodded, clearly unconvinced.
‘Come in, come in,’ she said, putting an arm around each of us. ‘I want to hear all your news. I’ve made us a troikakake.’
‘My favourite,’ Henrik said.
‘Chocolate cake,’ she mouthed, shooting me a wink.
This woman couldn’t possibly be planning to ruin Tore’s life – she baked cakes! I was desperate to get inside and warm up, but the cabin didn’t feel much different to being outside so I kept my coat on.
‘Now, let me look at you.’
‘Where’s Bjorn?’
‘He’s here,’ a gruff voice shouted down the corridor. ‘How’s my favourite godson?’ Bjorn was wearing an oversized knitted cardigan in a similar style to Nina’s, plodding slowly towards us with a stick. He stopped when he saw me. ‘Oh! A new girlfriend at last!’
‘Not quite. This is Sara, she’s one of the guests at Firefly.’
Bjorn frowned. ‘Are we part of the retreat programme now?’
‘She’s also a lawyer,’ Henrik said quietly.
Nina jumped up and scurried off into the miniature kitchen as Bjorn harumphed his way into the chair by the fire. ‘I see. And do we need a lawyer present as well?’
‘I hope not. Sara’s not our lawyer; she’s not representing us.’
‘I’m just here as ears,’ I said. Henrik gave me a look. ‘I mean, to listen.’
‘Ideally we’ll figure this out by talking it through,’ Henrik said. ‘And by we, I mean me, Pappa, Jonas and you. Both of you.’
I glanced around at them all. This conversation needed professional mediation.
‘Anyone for cake?!’ Nina hurried over with a tray of coffees and a raspberry-covered chocolate cake, then busied herself handing out cups and fussing over the milk and sugar.
She danced around getting everyone sorted, until eventually there was nothing left to do but sit down.
‘So!’ she said, awkwardly. ‘How have you all been?’
‘Not great, to be honest. Pappa’s worried sick.’
‘Then why isn’t he here?’ Bjorn asked.
‘He’s too upset. He’s worried he’ll say the wrong thing, so I offered to come in the first instance and find out what’s going on.’
‘We haven’t seen you in nearly two years, Henrik,’ Bjorn said. ‘Or your father.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Henrik said, jiggling his leg. ‘I should have been to visit sooner. The weeks and months just keep disappearing. Time flies by somehow, we’re all busy with the retreat – it takes up every hour of the day.’
‘And yet there doesn’t seem to be any money coming in.’
‘There must be some?’ Henrik said, stroking his beard. ‘I leave the finances to Pappa, but I know the upkeep is expensive. Jonas uses good quality ingredients for the food. And there’s the maintenance and bills; water, fuel, washing, it all adds up.’
‘It does. And the profits each month do not add up to very much at all.’
Henrik nodded. ‘I’ve told Pappa we need to be more money-minded. Is that why you’re considering selling?’
‘Of course! All our wealth is tied up in that land and we are sitting here growing old in the cold.’
‘Why haven’t you spoken to us about it before now?’
‘We never hear from you. Tore shut down when your mother died and we’ve only seen him twice, maybe three times, since the funeral. We’ve lost touch. I’m sorry for the situation, Henny, but Nina isn’t well, and we must look after ourselves before we look after you.’
‘Absolutely, you must. I totally understand, honestly I do. But I’m still not completely clear on what’s been agreed. Mark told me and Jonas one version of events, but I want to hear it from you. I don’t trust him.’
Nina gave me a silent smile before stuffing a wedge of cake in her mouth and Bjorn stirred a sugar into his coffee.
‘It’s as I said to your father. There is an offer to buy the land that Firefly Forest is built on.
Not just the retreat patch but the whole forest area.
And it is serious and sizeable, and we have to consider it. Don’t we, Nina?’
She nodded into her coffee.
Henrik pushed, gently. ‘It’s not yet decided then?’
‘Ninety per cent decided, yes.’
‘And the other ten per cent?’ Nina took a large slurp of her coffee instead of answering. ‘Tante Nina? Can’t we talk things through at least? We can take a loan out on the land if it’s cash you need, rather than getting third parties involved. Especially property developers.’
Nina cleared her throat to speak. ‘Henrik, my darling, Bjorn and I are old.’
‘What? No, you’re not.’
She smiled. ‘Yes. Yes, we are. We are the same age as your father, who I’m sorry to tell you is also now officially old, although he’d never admit it.
But unlike Tore, we don’t have any children.
We only have each other. Our cabin is falling to pieces, and the car is on its last legs.
We are surviving week to week on our pensions, but we don’t have any money. ’
‘And can’t work our way out of it,’ Bjorn said, pointing to his stick.
Henrik looked crestfallen. ‘I had no idea you were struggling like this.’
Nina put a hand on his arm. ‘It isn’t for you to worry about. We’ve had our life and enjoyed it, and it’s on to the next generation now.’
‘Except we don’t have a next generation,’ Bjorn said. ‘Nobody cares about us. So, if there’s a chance we can access our family money before we go, then I think we should.’
‘What do you mean nobody cares? They do! I care about you.’
Nina’s smile stayed fixed as she nodded. ‘And we care about you.’
It felt like a good moment to chip in and change the tone. ‘Can I ask a question from an information-gathering perspective?’
‘You can ask…’ Bjorn picked up his pipe and tapped it on the table to loosen the tobacco.
‘Do you have a copy of the original covenant between your families to show what was agreed?’
He chuckled. ‘Now that’s the kind of information-gathering both parties need to do.’
‘Pappa has our copy,’ Henrik said earnestly. ‘He’s going through Besta’s old papers to find it.’
‘And are you all clear on the specific terms of the agreement or is it more of a word-of-mouth situation, passed down through generations?’ Even if they knew but wouldn’t say, it might help us understand their position.
‘It was what the English would call a gentlemen’s agreement between my great-great-grandfather and Tore’s great-great-grandfather, and they shook on it so long ago that I don’t imagine there’s any record of it left. And even if there was it wouldn’t be legally binding.’
‘When do you think you’ll make a decision?’ Henrik asked, clearly scared of the answer.
‘Two days,’ Bjorn said, glaring at Nina, who started clearing the plates.
‘More coffee? Cake?’ she asked manically, then turned to me. ‘Would you prefer a tea?’
I shook my head.
‘We’re fine, tante. We should head back before it gets dark. I’m working the evening shift and Sara is supposed to be on holiday.’
‘Of course.’ Nina looked like she might cry.
‘If we could get you the money from somewhere else, would you be open to a different kind of deal?’ I asked, to try and keep the conversation open.
Bjorn laughed. ‘Absolutely. Money is money.’
Henrik nodded. ‘Only when the last tree has been cut down, the last fish caught and the last river poisoned, will we realise we can’t eat money.’
He paused for effect.
‘Beautiful,’ Nina said, tearing up. ‘Your mother would be very proud of you.’
Bjorn puffed on his pipe then snorted out the smoke. ‘We’re not planning to eat the money, Henny, we’ll buy food with it and eat that.’