The Day She Came Back(79)
How could you have left me, Mummy . . .?
Why did you give me away . . .?
It was when I needed you the most . . .
How could you have lied to me?
You and Prim. I was only a baby, I had no choice but to trust you . . .
You made a deal and I had no choice . . .
These thoughts, a reminder of why she was here and why her excitement was still justifiably tinged with a little anger, diluted the emotion that threatened. Sarah shoved her hands in her pockets and looked at Victoria with eyes brimming.
‘I find this piece very, erm . . .’ She faltered.
‘Me too,’ Victoria agreed. It was hard to keep her tears at bay.
Jens had strolled up behind them. ‘What are you two staring at?’ He bent forward and, with natural ease, placed a hand on each of their shoulders, doing so with confidence as he peered through at the sculpture, the conduit connecting them. Victoria wondered if anyone looking might think they were a family.
And this is what my life could be like . . . me, Sarah and Jens. A little family . . . It’s what I have always wanted, but I don’t know how I would cope with losing you again . . . if things didn’t work out . . . It might hurt too much.
‘Ah, I see. It’s a thought-provoking piece, for sure.’
‘The mother looks so scared, and yet so proud, protective, as if, despite her best efforts, she knows something bad is around the corner.’ Sarah reached up and held Jens’s hand.
‘Well, it’s amazing what different people see.’ Sarah’s words had lit the kindling which, despite Victoria’s best intentions, she felt was only ever a match-strike away from flaring. ‘I think the mother looks afraid, complicit and wary.’
Jens straightened and rubbed his chin, his tone conciliatory. ‘Well, maybe she’s afraid because that child is the most precious thing to her and she is concerned for its welfare, knowing she is helpless to stop whatever is coming her way?’
Victoria began to walk away. ‘Or maybe she’s afraid because she knows she is going to get found out.’ She could well imagine their expressions, so she chose not to look at them as she marched towards the exit, having had enough of sculpture for one day. Jens clapped his hands and marched too; seemingly, his good humour and enthusiasm could not be dented. She had to admit, he was nice to be around. He helped calm the maelstrom of confusion and anger in her young brain, a brain that with more years and more life added it to it would see her able to voice rather than act out all that ailed her.
She had hoped spending time in Oslo might provide answers and insight to help calm her busy head. If anything, however, it only added another layer of questions. It was almost impossible to see how she and Sarah could ever walk across that bridge when Sarah was either fighting the urge to cry or the urge to physically hold her and Jens was busy working like a sweeper in a curling match, doing his level best to remove all and any bumps in the road to ensure day-to-day life for the woman he loved was as smooth as it could be.
It was easy, Victoria decided, to take her to see the sights, share a joke and whip up a cake. Not that she wasn’t grateful, far from it, but it all felt very much like a bright, shiny distraction, getting her to look to the right so as not notice what was going on to the left.
Afterwards, the trio had continued to zip around the city, fuelled by good coffee, fresh pastries and Kvikk Lunsj, which Jens had insisted she try, as it was a Norwegian staple. She ‘oohed’ her enthusiasm, not wanting to offend and so deciding not to tell him it was, disappointingly, exactly the same as any old KitKat she could get at home. Despite keeping her guard up, wary of her muddled emotions run through with grief, which skewered even the most pleasant of experiences, Oslo had surprised and welcomed Victoria. Like the sculpture that had so touched her, the city and its people had wrapped their arms around her and she felt at home. Not that she would ever consider leaving Epsom, or Rosebank for that matter, but she could certainly understand how when a boy had come along and looked at Sarah and she had looked at him and they had fallen, Norway must have been an easy choice when all they had to do was find a place to be together.
Jens’s enthusiasm for his place of birth could not be dampened by fatigue or the post-lunch dip and after eating he was still keen to show her the best of the stunning city. They packed in the sights: the understated cathedral, the accessible royal palace and the many beautiful parks, and each experience was a surprise.
Not before time, they took a rest stop at the Kafe Oslo, which looked to Victoria to be part café, part bookshop; people sat inside and out, either with books open in their palms or newspapers spread wide on the table, sipping at hot chocolates or stopping to take bites of fancy macaroons. It was a wonderful atmosphere with a great view over the park.
‘So, no university for you?’ Jens quizzed her.
She shook her head and sipped her hot chocolate. ‘Nope.’
He drew breath. ‘I think better to say, “Not right now”, because who knows what is around the corner?’ He spoke sincerely and she liked his interest.
Victoria made a ‘tsk’ noise. ‘Trust me, no one knows what’s around the corner – I mean, look at us’ – she extended her index finger and drew a circle at chest height – ‘who would have thought only weeks ago that this is where we’d be?’
‘Not me!’ Jens smiled his agreement while Sarah stayed quiet. ‘But aren’t you glad?’ Jens enthused. ‘I know I am! Very glad!’