House of Evidence(59)
Klemenz returned, bearing two plates on his left arm, and placed a quiche in front of Hrefna.
“This is my favorite dish,” Matthías said. “Klemenz makes a particularly fine quiche.”
They ate in silence. The music wafted in from the parlor and it somehow seemed inappropriate to talk over it. Although Hrefna had a glass of water next to her wine, she had emptied the wine glass before she realized it, and Klemenz had poured her some more.
“May I offer you some more quiche?” he asked when she had emptied her plate.
“No, thank you, but it was very good.”
“Thank you. The main course will be ready shortly.”
He brought larger wine glasses, placing them next to the ones that were already there, and filled them with red wine from a carafe before disappearing again.
“Cheers once more,” Matthías said, raising his glass.
“Here’s to the chef,” Hrefna replied.
“Yes, to the chef. He will now be frying the filet mignon, which he only does when he is ready to serve. If I know him correctly, he will have spent all last week harassing the city’s butchers to find the right ingredients for this course.”
“You are lucky to have such service.”
“Yes, Klemenz has been singularly faithful to me. He could be a head chef in any restaurant anywhere, but he prefers to cook just for me as he knows that I appreciate fine things. That means he can spend days on end preparing just a single meal.”
Matthías got up, and returned to the parlor, then reemerged a moment later at the table.
“Now you will hear a cello concerto by Haydn. The soloist is still du Pré,” he said, after he had taken his seat again.
The filet steak that Klemenz served her could have been eaten with a spoon, it was so tender. She’d never tasted meat like this before. The only beef she had ever come across was the extremely chewy cut used in Icelandic goulash.
The accompaniment and the sauce were also quite different from what she was used to; this was a true gourmet meal.
Klemenz topped up the red-wine glasses and asked whether he could offer them a second helping of the main course. Matthías declined, and Hrefna followed his lead; she would, actually, have been able to eat far more of this delicacy, but sensed it would not be polite. And besides, she was not exactly hungry anymore.
After the meal Klemenz served them coffee in the parlor.
“I was examining Jacob Junior’s accounts today,” Hrefna began. “It seemed to me that he was up to his neck in debt.”
“Is that so? Well, it does not surprise me.”
“Do you know where he got these loans from? You can’t see it in his papers.”
“No, but the lender will surely reveal himself when the estate is settled. I assume that Jacob Junior’s purchase of the house will be canceled now that he has passed away, so the settlement needs to be hastened.”
“What will happen to the house?”
“It will be sold, as originally intended.”
“The history of the Kieler family in Birkihlíd will finally come to an end,” she remarked, thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Matthías replied, a brief smile crossing his lips. “One chapter in the history of this house has come to an end, but it will remain and acquire a new role; and the history of the Kieler family has also come to an end, in the sense that the name will die out here in Iceland. But all this is nothing but vanity.”
“What will you do?”
“I shall go back home to Austria and hope to end my days peacefully there. I have accumulated a reasonable retirement fund, and my share from the proceeds of the house will augment that. I am assuming that Klemenz will continue to work for me, so I am not worried.”
Hrefna could think of no more questions for her host, so she began to gather her things.
“I am going to play through my ‘Berceuse’ arrangement again,” he commented. “You may listen if you would like to.”
“Yes, I would like that,” Hrefna said gratefully. She knew she would remember this evening for years to come.
Diary VI
May 3, 1920. The Gullfoss set sail from Leith harbor this morning. We settled ourselves into an excellent two-berth cabin on the starboard side. This ship is very similar to the Godafoss, in which I sailed to Leith a few years ago. You could say that I am now completing a journey begun then. Both my wife and I are a little bit anxious. I have lived abroad for nearly ten years and Elizabeth feels she is heading for the great unknown…
May 4, 1920. The ship makes around 12 knots, and the captain estimates that we shall be docking in Reykjavik on the morning of May 8. The weather is reasonable and I am enjoying spending time with the other passengers. Elizabeth is a little bit seasick…