The Quiet Mother

52

Having second thoughts, Soffía looked intently at Konrád. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t inclined to gossip and spread rumours about people. Konrád said that he was the same. He had no interest in spreading stories about people. He’d made it his mission to find Valborg’s child, and he would continue that mission whether Soffía helped him or not. Soffía said that she was very willing to contribute, but just wasn’t used to talking to strangers about her family and childhood and didn’t know where the line was between what she felt up to revealing about her parents’ friends and what was important to him. Konrád assured her that everything she said was confidential, and he would make sure it didn’t go any further.

‘Have you met Regína?’ she asked.

‘Yes, actually, I went to her house,’ said Konrád.

‘Why did you go—’

‘She was the one who let Sunnefa have the names of expectant mothers who were hesitant about having children or choosing abortion. She admitted it. Valborg happened to be one of them.’

Soffía sat quietly for several moments.

‘Regína is the friend of my mother who had it hardest,’ she said. ‘I don’t know the whole story, and don’t know what you... what you’re looking for.’

‘Anything can help.’

Soffía said that they’d become friends in secondary school, had both been involved in Christian youth organisations and were religious, except that Regína hadn’t been quite as immersed in all that as Soffía’s mother. She mainly remembered her mother saying that Regína had been more drawn towards mysticism and musings about the afterlife. In any case, she did manage to drag her mum with her to a few séances. Regína got married early, and later it turned out that her husband was a brute who beat her, and two or three times, Soffía’s father had to come to her rescue. In between, the man promised he’d mend his ways, and everything went fine until he started beating his wife again. Along with the violence came isolation, as the man was both jealous and suspicious and didn’t want her to associate with anyone except those he approved of, and they were few in number. Several years passed like that until Regína managed to divorce him, despite her husband’s constant death threats, and she moved away from him, taking their daughter with her. She rented an attic flat a short distance from the city centre and was living under straitened circumstances when tragedy struck. Her daughter fell ill with what was initially thought to be an ordinary flu; she was taken to hospital but the girl died shortly afterwards.

‘Regína was in shock,’ said Soffía. ‘She’d put up with that bastard for so long, and then that devastation was laid on top of it. She lost her grip on reality and was admitted to a psychiatric ward, and was there for almost a year. Gradually, she managed to work through her tragedy, though she never really recovered from the loss of her daughter, of course.’

‘Do people in such circumstances ever recover?’

‘My mother told me about this sometime after, when Regína came up in conversation. I was so young in those years that I didn’t get the whole story until much later. I often thought about the girl.’

‘Did Regína only have that one child?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you ever hear them talk about adoptions?’ Konrád asked. ‘Your mum and Regína?’

‘No. Never.’

‘Did you ever hear them talk about that Danni or Daníel, as far as you can remember?’

‘No, I don’t remember that. On the other hand, Regína did attend Sunnefa’s funeral. I don’t know how many years ago that was. It was in Fossvogur Church and quite a lot of people came to pay their final respects. I said hello to Regína and she was as nice as always, and... no, I don’t think I’ve seen her since. Those sorts of relationships unravel over time. When Mum died, her friends disappeared, too. But I do remember, I saw Regína talking to a man who somehow really reminded me of Danni, but by the time I got over to them, he was gone.’

‘Did you ask Regína about him?’

‘No. But it could have been him, and he didn’t look particularly good.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He just looked a bit unhealthy, and was dressed rather shabbily. It was as if life hadn’t treated him well.’

‘You don’t know what went on between them?’

‘No. I just noticed them talking, and it seemed like they were good friends. They seemed quite close, the way they greeted each other; she hugged him and he held her hand. It was beautiful. It was like old friends meeting after a long separation.’