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Authors: Olaf Olafsson
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refresh me. I went down to the kitchen and lit a cigarillo to calm my mind. The sunlight crept toward me across the floor and I walked to meet it, opening the door and stepping outside. A pleasant scent rose from the earth after the rain, and the grass had turned green overnight. A bird flew by with a caterpillar in its beak and vanished from sight behind the east wing.
I walked over to the poplar and leaned against it, my head still full of the night’s preoccupations. As always, the tree’s presence was soothing, but this time I felt as if there was something it wanted to say to me.
9
9 Gardast.
March 12, 1936
Dearest Mother,
I went back down to the telephone exchange yesterday, but gave up after an
hour. They still hadn’t got through to Kopasker.
As you can imagine, I haven’t been able to think about anything else since
our conversation. You mustn’t think that I’m ungrateful to you and Father for
having fixed me up with a job at the bank. I know it wasn’t easy and don’t
doubt that many other girls would welcome the job. But after long thought and
many sleepless nights I have come to the same decision as before.
It would do no one any favors if I turned my back on my existing plans to
go abroad and learn more about cookery. Mr. Sivertsen said yesterday that he
was sure I would get a place at either the Angleterre in Copenhagen or at his
friend’s restaurant in London. Just think, Mother: Copenhagen or London! I
was so excited that I flung my arms round his neck and kissed him right on the
cheek. He has been terribly kind and considerate to me. And he’s expecting an
answer very soon.
Don’t be angry with me, Mother. Please don’t, because you know how
much I care about you and Father.
Love from,
Disa
10
Father looked exhausted. He was first down the gangway, stopping midway to peer around, but didn’t see me even though I was standing no more than ten yards away from him, waving. He looked desperately tired, and didn’t move on until the woman behind nudged him and whispered something in his ear.
“There you are, Disa dear,” he said, relieved when I hurried over to him. “I couldn’t see you anywhere.”
Joka was at a typing class, and Father and I took a taxi to Gardastraeti so that we wouldn’t have to be weighed down by his luggage. Just as we were setting off, a man came running after the car, gesticulating wildly to catch our attention. We stopped.
“The doctor forgot his bag,” he said, panting. “I noticed it up on deck.”
We thanked him and drove away. He was unusually plump for such a young man and when I looked round I saw him waddling back, dragging his feet.
“Your mother is worried about you,” was the first thing Father said as we left the docks.
I was silent.
“Is there any use trying to make you come to your senses?”
I was speechless for once, not having expected him to come to the point so quickly. Finally I stammered miserably, “Oh, Father . . .”
It was then that he smiled with his eyes and said: “So you’re determined to be a bohemian, my dear.”
We didn’t speak again during the car journey, and when we reached 9 Gardastraeti I helped the driver in with the bags. Father moved with slow deliberation and crawled straight into bed after greeting Mrs. Olsen and thanking her for looking after Jorunn and me.
When Joka and I came home from school that evening, he had gone to dinner with his friend Vilhjalmur and Thorunn, his wife. He’d asked Mrs. Olsen to give me an envelope. I opened it at once and read with Joka breathing down my neck:
Miss Bohemian, Asdis Jonsdottir,
You will find out one day how short life is and how little time we have. For
this reason I am not going to try and dissuade you any further, I can see how
pointless it would be. On the other hand, I do have three wishes to put to you:
Firstly, I would like to meet Mr. Sivertsen tomorrow, preferably between
two and four. I mean to speak to him about the arrangements he has
I walked over to the poplar and leaned against it, my head still full of the night’s preoccupations. As always, the tree’s presence was soothing, but this time I felt as if there was something it wanted to say to me.
9
9 Gardast.
March 12, 1936
Dearest Mother,
I went back down to the telephone exchange yesterday, but gave up after an
hour. They still hadn’t got through to Kopasker.
As you can imagine, I haven’t been able to think about anything else since
our conversation. You mustn’t think that I’m ungrateful to you and Father for
having fixed me up with a job at the bank. I know it wasn’t easy and don’t
doubt that many other girls would welcome the job. But after long thought and
many sleepless nights I have come to the same decision as before.
It would do no one any favors if I turned my back on my existing plans to
go abroad and learn more about cookery. Mr. Sivertsen said yesterday that he
was sure I would get a place at either the Angleterre in Copenhagen or at his
friend’s restaurant in London. Just think, Mother: Copenhagen or London! I
was so excited that I flung my arms round his neck and kissed him right on the
cheek. He has been terribly kind and considerate to me. And he’s expecting an
answer very soon.
Don’t be angry with me, Mother. Please don’t, because you know how
much I care about you and Father.
Love from,
Disa
10
Father looked exhausted. He was first down the gangway, stopping midway to peer around, but didn’t see me even though I was standing no more than ten yards away from him, waving. He looked desperately tired, and didn’t move on until the woman behind nudged him and whispered something in his ear.
“There you are, Disa dear,” he said, relieved when I hurried over to him. “I couldn’t see you anywhere.”
Joka was at a typing class, and Father and I took a taxi to Gardastraeti so that we wouldn’t have to be weighed down by his luggage. Just as we were setting off, a man came running after the car, gesticulating wildly to catch our attention. We stopped.
“The doctor forgot his bag,” he said, panting. “I noticed it up on deck.”
We thanked him and drove away. He was unusually plump for such a young man and when I looked round I saw him waddling back, dragging his feet.
“Your mother is worried about you,” was the first thing Father said as we left the docks.
I was silent.
“Is there any use trying to make you come to your senses?”
I was speechless for once, not having expected him to come to the point so quickly. Finally I stammered miserably, “Oh, Father . . .”
It was then that he smiled with his eyes and said: “So you’re determined to be a bohemian, my dear.”
We didn’t speak again during the car journey, and when we reached 9 Gardastraeti I helped the driver in with the bags. Father moved with slow deliberation and crawled straight into bed after greeting Mrs. Olsen and thanking her for looking after Jorunn and me.
When Joka and I came home from school that evening, he had gone to dinner with his friend Vilhjalmur and Thorunn, his wife. He’d asked Mrs. Olsen to give me an envelope. I opened it at once and read with Joka breathing down my neck:
Miss Bohemian, Asdis Jonsdottir,
You will find out one day how short life is and how little time we have. For
this reason I am not going to try and dissuade you any further, I can see how
pointless it would be. On the other hand, I do have three wishes to put to you:
Firstly, I would like to meet Mr. Sivertsen tomorrow, preferably between
two and four. I mean to speak to him about the arrangements he has
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