freshly pressed. He held a bouquet of roses in his
hand, which she knew Beatrice would already
have offered to put into a vase, but he had thanked
her and asked her to wait so that Helena would see
them first.
She took another step. Her hand rested lightly on
the banister. It was easier now. She raised her
head and encompassed all three of them in one
look. And suddenly she realised in an odd way that
this was the most beautiful moment of her life. For
she knew what they saw and how they were
reflected in it.
Mother saw herself, her own lost youth and her
dreams coming down the stairs; Beatrice saw the
girl she had brought up as her own; and he saw the
woman he loved so much that he could not hide it
behind Scandinavian embarrassment and good
manners.
‘You look wonderful,’ Beatrice mouthed. Helena
winked in return. Then she was down.
‘So you found the way, even in the pitch dark?’
she smiled at Uriah. ‘Yes,’ he answered in a loud,
clear voice, and in the high, tiled hall the answer
resounded as in a church.
Mother talked in her sharp, slightly piercing voice
while Beatrice floated in and out of the dining
room like a friendly ghost. Helena couldn’t take
her eyes off the diamond chain Mother wore
around her neck, her most precious piece of
jewellery which was only taken out on special
occasions.
As an exception, Mother had left the door to the
garden ajar. Cloud cover was so low that they
might get away without any bombing tonight. The
draught from the open door caused the flames of
the stearin candles to flicker, and the shadows
danced on the portraits of serious men and women
bearing the surname of Lang. Mother had
painstakingly explained to him who was who, what
they had achieved and from which families they
had selected their spouses. Uriah had listened with
what Helena thought resembled a tiny sardonic
smile, but it was difficult to be sure in the semi-
darkness. Mother had explained that they felt a
responsibility to save electricity with the war on.
Naturally she didn’t mention the family’s present
economic circumstances and that Beatrice was the
last remaining servant of an original staff of four.
Uriah put down his fork and cleared his throat.
Mother had placed them at the top of the long
dining table. The young ones faced each other
while she sat at the other end.
‘That was delicious, Frau Lang.’
It had been a simple meal. Not so simple that it
could be interpreted as an insult, but not so
ostentatious that it might give him reason to believe
he was a guest of honour.
‘That’s Beatrice,’ Helena said with warmth. ‘She
makes Austria’s best Wienerschnitzel. Have you
tried it before?’
‘Only once, as far as I know. And it doesn’t bear
comparison with this one.’
‘ Schwein,’ Mother said. ‘The one you ate was
probably made with pork. In this house we only eat
veal. Or, at a pinch, turkey.’
‘I don’t recall any meat,’ he said with a smile. ‘I
think it was mostly egg and breadcrumbs.’
Helena laughed softly and received a swift glare
from her mother.
The conversation had flagged on a couple of
occasions during the meal, but after the long
intervals Uriah tended to pick up the threads as
often as Helena or her mother did. Helena had
already decided before she invited him to dinner
that she would not let what Mother thought bother
her. Uriah was polite, but he was a man from a
simple farming background, without the refinement
of nature and manners that was concomitant with
an upbringing in an elegant house. She had hardly
needed to worry, however. Helena was amazed at
Uriah’s unconstrained, worldly-wise deportment.
‘You’re probably planning to work when the war
is over?’ the mother asked, putting the last bite of
the potato into her mouth.
Uriah nodded and, while Frau Lang finished
chewing, he patiently waited for the inevitable next
question.
‘And what work would that be, if I might ask?’
‘Postman. At least, I was promised a job before
the war broke out.’
‘Delivering the post? Don’t people live a terribly
long distance from each other in your country?’
‘It’s not that bad. We settle where we can. Along
the fjords, in the valleys and other places protected
from the wind and weather. And then of course
there are some towns and larger places too.’
‘You don’t say. Interesting. May I ask if you are a
man of means?’
‘Mother!’ Helena stared at her mother in
disbelief. ‘Yes, my dear?’ Mother dabbed her
mouth with her napkin and waved to Beatrice to