The Hidden Child

Chapter 28

‘Did he have any news about Axel?’ Erik couldn’t hide his excitement. The four of them had gathered in their usual place on Rabekullen, right across from the cemetery. They all wanted to know what Elsy could tell them about the news that had spread like wildfire through the town – that Elof had brought home a Norwegian resistance fighter who had fled from the Germans.

Elsy shook her head. ‘No, Pappa asked him, but he said he hadn’t heard anything about Axel.’

Disappointed, Erik stared down at the granite rock, kicking his boot against a patch of grey lichen.

‘Maybe he doesn’t know him by name, but if we told him more about Axel, he might remember something,’ said Erik, renewed hope gleaming in his eyes. If only there were some indication that his brother was still alive. Yesterday his mother had said for the first time what they all feared. She’d wept, her sobs more heartrending than ever, and said that they should light a candle for Axel in church on Sunday, because he was probably dead by now. His father got angry and swore at her, but Erik had seen the resignation in his eyes. Not even his father believed that Axel was among the living.

‘Let’s go talk to him,’ said Britta eagerly, getting up and brushing off her dress. She raised her hand to smooth down her plaits.

‘Oh right, I can see that it’s your concern for Erik that’s making you stand there primping,’ said Frans scornfully. ‘I didn’t know you were sweet on Norwegians. Aren’t there enough Swedish boys to satisfy you?’

Britta’s face turned bright red. ‘Shut up, Frans. You’re making a fool of yourself. Of course I care about Erik. And finding out about Axel. But there’s no harm in looking decent.’

‘Then you’ll have to make a real effort – if you want to look decent,’ was Frans’s vulgar reply as he tugged at Britta’s dress. Her face got even redder, and she looked as if she might burst into tears when Elsy said sharply:

‘Stop that, Frans. Sometimes you say such stupid things. Just cut it out!’

He stared at her and his face blanched. Abruptly he stood up and ran off with a furious expression.

Erik poked at some loose stones. Without looking at Elsy, he said in a low voice, ‘You should watch what you say to Frans. There’s something about him… Something simmering underneath. I can tell.’

Elsy looked at him in surprise, wondering where that strange comment had come from. But she knew instinctively that he was right. She’d known Frans since they were little, but something was growing inside of him, something uncontrollable, something untamable.

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’ giggled Britta. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Frans. We were just… teasing each other.’

‘You’re blinded by the fact that you’re in love with him,’ said Erik.

Britta slapped him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, why’d you do that?’ he said, holding his shoulder.

‘Because you’re talking such nonsense. So, do you want to go and ask the Norwegian about your brother, or not?’

Britta started off as Erik and Elsy exchanged glances.

‘He was at home when I left,’ she said. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have a few words with him.’

A short time later Elsy knocked discreetly on the basement door. Hans looked a little embarrassed when he opened the door and saw the three of them standing outside.

‘Yes?’ he said.

Elsy glanced at the others before she spoke. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Frans come sauntering towards them, his expression now much calmer and his hands casually stuck in his trousers pockets.

‘Well, ah, we were wondering if we could come in and talk to you for a moment.’

‘Sure,’ said the Norwegian, stepping aside. Britta gave him a coy wink as she moved past. The boys shook his hand and introduced themselves. There was very little furniture in the small room. Britta and Elsy sat down on the only chairs, Hans perched on the bed, and Frans and Erik sat down on the floor.

‘It’s about my brother,’ said Erik. There were flickers of hope in his eyes. ‘My brother has been helping your people during the whole war. He went with Elsy’s father on his boat, the same one you came here on, and transported things back and forth to your side. But a year ago the Germans captured him at Kristiansand harbour, and…’ He winced. ‘We haven’t heard anything from him since.’

‘Elsy’s father asked me about him,’ said Hans, looking Erik in the eye. ‘But I’m afraid I don’t know that name. And I can’t remember hearing anything about a Swede who was captured in Kristiansand. But there are lots of us. And quite a few Swedes have been helping us, for that matter.’

‘You might not know his name, but maybe you’d recognize him.’ Erik spoke eagerly, clasping his hands in his lap.

‘It’s not likely, but go ahead and tell me what he looks like.’

Erik described his brother as best he could. It wasn’t really that difficult, because even though Axel had been gone a whole year, Erik could still picture him very clearly. At the same time, there were plenty of others who looked like Axel, and it was hard to come up with distinctive features that would set him apart from other Swedish boys his age.

Hans listened closely but then shook his head. ‘No, he doesn’t sound familiar. I’m really sorry.’

Erik sank back in disappointment. For a while nobody spoke. Then Frans said:

‘So, tell us about your adventures in the war. You must have had some exciting experiences!’ His eyes shone.

‘There’s not much to tell, actually,’ said Hans, sounding reluctant to say more, but Britta refused to believe him. She fixed her eyes on him and urged him to tell them something, anything at all, about what he’d been through. After a few more protests, the Norwegian finally relented and began telling them about what it was like in Norway. About the German occupation, about the suffering of his countrymen, about what they’d done to fight back. The four young people listened to him, open-mouthed. It all sounded so exciting. Of course they noticed the sorrowful look in Hans’s eyes, and they realized that he must have witnessed a great deal of misery. And yet… they couldn’t help thinking that it was exciting.

‘Well, I think it was terribly brave of you,’ said Britta, blushing. ‘Most boys would never dare do things like that. Only people like Axel – and you – are brave enough to fight for what they believe.’

‘So we wouldn’t dare? Is that what you think?’ snapped Frans. He was even more annoyed by the fact that Britta kept casting admiring glances, usually reserved for him, at the Norwegian. ‘Erik and I are just as brave, and when we’re as old as Axel and… How old are you, by the way?’ he asked Hans.

‘I just turned seventeen,’ said Hans, who seemed uncomfortable with all the attention directed at him and his activities. He turned to look at Elsy. She hadn’t said a word as she listened to everybody else, but now she picked up on his signals.

‘I think we should let Hans rest. He’s been through a lot,’ she said gently, motioning to her friends. Reluctantly they all got up and thanked him before backing out of the room. Elsy was the last to leave, and she turned around just before she closed the door.

‘Thanks,’ said Hans, giving her a faint smile. ‘But it was nice to have company, so you’re all welcome to come back. It’s just that right now I’m a little…’

She smiled at him. ‘I understand perfectly. We’ll come back another time, and we’d be happy to show you around town too. But get some rest now.’

She closed the door. But strangely enough, she kept seeing his face in her mind, and it refused to go away.