CHAPTER 22
An entire week passed by. Lynn settled rapidly into her new home, and home was the way she thought of it, not simply as a house. It was a strange feeling, living in a place where she neither had to share a room, nor listen to constant arguments, particularly arguments over where she should go to work, discussions in which she was not generally included. Henry was kindness itself, allowing her to acclimatise to a new environment in her own way and at her own speed. Not that the situation was so unfamiliar, of course, but being a regular visitor, she found, was not quite the same as being a permanent resident. At the end of the week, Henry tackled her about her future plans, waiting with his customary courtesy until she had finished her breakfast coffee and had awoken sufficiently to face the day.
‘So what comes next?’ he asked. ‘You’ve finished your first year, but presumably you have some work to do to prepare for your second.’
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I have some writing to do, but that’s a long piece and it’s not due in until after Christmas. I’d like to study a bit more of the background to the Viking times, as I’m still a bit hazy about some of the aspects, but that’s about all. Otherwise, it’s really a holiday.’
‘What sort of background would that be?’ asked Henry.
‘Well, how people lived, how they thought, what they really looked like. I know it in theory, of course, but books only take you so far. What I would like to do is to visit some museums, look at old relics, and let it soak in.’
Henry pursed his lips, considering the matter. ‘Well, you could do a lot worse than going to Scandinavia, and seeing the items at first hand. Runestones, rock carvings, boats. That sort of thing.’
‘That sounds like a very good idea, Henry. It’s something like that I had in mind, in fact. The only thing is, I wouldn’t know where to start, and I don’t know the language. Well, a few words I’ve picked up, but that’s all. I’d like to think I could get something more out of it than just looking dumbly at things without understanding a word.’
‘There’s no need to make that a problem,’ said Henry. ‘As it happens, I know Scandinavia very well. And I do speak the language. At least, I know Swedish, and if you know Swedish, you can generally get by anywhere in Scandinavia. I’m a bit rusty, but I’m sure it would all come back. You have several weeks free. Why don’t we travel around a bit, see the sights, let me be your guide?’
‘That would be lovely,’ Lynn said. ‘Are you sure? I mean, don’t you have plans of your own?’
‘Holiday plans?’ asked Henry. ‘As it happens, no, I haven’t. It’s a long time since I visited Scandinavia. I’d rather like to see it again.’
So it was decided. Henry found reserves of energy that had been unused for too long, and threw himself into making the holiday arrangements with an unaccustomed energy. In truth, it didn’t take him so long, as he had been well used to making similar arrangements for himself so many years before. Nevertheless, he found himself enjoying his new role as travel guide.
They left shortly afterwards, packing themselves and the Bentley on to a car ferry that took them to Denmark in rather less than a full day. It was the first passenger ship that Lynn had ever been on. In fact, it was the first time she had ever been on the sea at all. Although the season was not yet well advanced, the ship was surprisingly full. Someone from Lynn’s home town was on board, and gave her a cheery wave from across the crowded lounge, but came no nearer to speak.
‘It’s like a microcosm of society,’ said Henry. ‘I’ve travelled this way many times before, and it’s a rare occasion when I don’t see someone I recognise. You haven’t been to sea before, I gather?’
‘Not like this. I’ve paddled in the sea when I was a little girl,’ she commented. ‘This is a lot more comfortable. Not as cold as the Channel.’
‘You think so?’ said Henry. ‘Just don’t fall overboard, that’s all I have to say.’
She was fascinated by the cabin she had been given, a single, just like the one adjoining that was Henry’s, and spent a long time investigating its various features. For most of the daylight hours, they sat in a lounge, watching through the large windows, looking at the passing ships, catching a glimpse of an oil rig in the far distance, another new experience for the girl. They went for a walk around the open deck at one point in order to raise an appetite for dinner.
‘Oh, it’s windy,’ laughed Lynn, as she gasped in the keen air and struggled to keep her flapping skirts down to a respectable level.
‘Of course,’ said Henry, looking at her knees. ‘Why do you think men bring their girl friends out here?’
Lynn’s eyes sparkled, and her cheeks reddened rather more than the fresh sea breeze warranted as she considered the point. Staggering across the deck as she tried in vain to push down her skirt once again, she began to understand. ‘Lead me to the dining room, Henry,’ she said. ‘I think I need to add a bit of weight if I’m to come out here again.’
Dinner was an unqualified success. Henry led her to the smörgåsbord, the buffet, where he introduced her to the intricacies of helping herself to a meal in the Scandinavian style. She loaded her plate with a variety of things that were new to her. Caviar and hard boiled egg in some sort of mayonnaise. Pickled herring. Meat balls that had never seen the inside of a tin. Salads of a bewildering diversity. Types of bread she never knew existed and bearing no resemblance to anything that might be found inside a first aid kit. She had a healthy appetite, and went back for a second helping, trying out other items on the menu.
‘I’m not at all certain about the caviar,’ said Henry. ‘I mean, it’s unlikely to be the finest beluga. In fact, I know it’s not. I had some of that once, and that is truly superb. Just the same, this isn’t a bad substitute.’
‘I never had it before,’ said Lynn. ‘I like it. The only thing is, I couldn’t eat a lot of it, not at one sitting.’
‘I know,’ said Henry, sympathetically. ‘It’s such a shame, isn’t it?’
Lynn burped softly, and her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oops,’ she said. ‘Manners. That’s the result of all this lovely food you’ve stuffed me with.’
‘Better than filling you full of alcohol, perhaps,’ suggested Henry. ‘Safer, at any rate.’
‘Why, Mr Forsyth,’ she said, fluttering her eyelids. ‘I don’t know what you mean by that.’
‘It does you credit,’ said Henry, catching her mood. ‘I didn’t think you were so old fashioned.’
‘Maybe I’m not, but if I thought you’d brought me here for evil purposes, I would never have come.’
‘You have a lock on your cabin door,’ Henry pointed out. ‘It would be easier at home, where the only lock in the house is on the front door. Besides, I don’t keep drink in the house, so it would be a bit difficult filling you up with alcohol there.’
‘That’s one thing I’ve noticed,’ said Lynn thoughtfully. ‘You don’t seem to drink at all. Not even a beer.’
‘I don’t,’ said Henry. ‘I can’t say I care much for the stuff, and when I see how it lowers the barriers sometimes, I’m rather glad I don’t take it. If it needs alcohol to be sociable, then I think I would rather be unsociable. Besides, I live on my own, or did until recently. Solitary drinking is not a good thing. I wouldn’t want to get in the position where I couldn’t move.’
‘I can hardly move now. I think I have to go and sit in a comfortable chair somewhere for a couple of hours.’
Henry nodded. ‘Take a little sleep while you’re at it,’ he suggested. ‘That’s what I intend to do, in any case.’
Sitting in the warm sunshine that flooded through the window, Lynn’s eyes grew heavy and closed. Henry studied her as she slept. She looked a lot more rested than she had done only a few days earlier. He smiled, well pleased. It was, he thought, rather like having a family of his own. His own eyes closed, and he too, fell asleep.
They were both woken up by an announcement over the loudspeakers to the effect that a horse race would shortly be held, a announcement spoken in both Swedish and English.
‘A horse race?’ asked Lynn. ‘I don’t believe it. How on earth would they get horses on board?’
‘Come and see,’ laughed Henry. ‘I think you’ll find it interesting.’
They were not, of course, real horses, but cut out models which were moved along the floor according to the throw of dice. It being possible to bet on them, Henry passed over a few coins and urged Lynn to place a stake on the horse of her choice, feeling a glow of pleasure when she won. The fact that the winnings had cost eight times the amount in stake money was a thought that never entered his mind, and wouldn’t have mattered in the slightest if it had. The pleasure, however, stayed with him for a long time.
At length, they retired to their cabins, settling down for the night, lulled into a dreamless sleep by the gentle movement through the water. At close to eight o’ clock, Henry tapped on Lynn’s door. There was a moment’s pause before she opened it, poking a tousled head through the opening.
‘Morning Lynn. Sleep well?’
‘Yes, thank you. Very well indeed. What time is it? My watch seems to have stopped.’
‘Just on eight. If you would like some breakfast, now would be a good time to take some.’
‘Right. Can you give me five minutes? I’m awake, but I’m not dressed yet.’
Henry chuckled to himself as the cabin door closed. The fact that she wasn’t dressed had been quite obvious. Decent she was, just, but definitely not dressed sufficiently for the breakfast room. Five minutes stretched out to not more than seven, the door opened again, and Lynn stepped through.
‘Got your cabin key?’ asked Henry.
‘In my hand,’ she said. ‘I don’t have a pocket on this dress. Would you look after it for me, please?’
Henry slipped the key into his left hand jacket pocket. L for left. L for Lynn. H for Henry. H for höger, the Swedish word for right, which was the side where his own key reposed. The sea had turned a little choppy in the shallower waters they were in, and Lynn had difficulty in keeping her balance, lurching against Henry as they walked along the corridor. She grasped his arm for support, ignoring Henry’s statement that it was difficult to know which of them was supported the more.
‘Are you sure you didn’t spike my coffee with vodka last night?’ asked Lynn, desperately trying to keep her feet under control.
‘If I did, you must have returned the compliment,’ returned Henry. ‘And since I don’t like the stuff, I may never forgive you for it.’
Denmark. They had arrived. The Bentley purred smoothly down the landing ramp. As usual, with thoughts of possible heavy insurance claims, it was let out first from its own little niche in the corner of the car deck, well away from other vehicles. Henry drove away from the quay with confidence. Some things had changed since he had last been there, but it was sufficiently familiar for him to find his way on to the open road without difficulty. He pointed the bonnet north east towards Grindsted, happy at the thought of renewing old acquaintances.
‘We’ll turn to the east later on,’ said Henry. ‘I haven’t seen the Viking ship museum at Roskilde myself, and that has to be a must. First, a little surprise.’
A surprise it was. He turned right at Grindsted, drove a short distance, then left the car in a car park large enough to be called enormous and already practically filled with other vehicles.
‘Legoland?’ exclaimed Lynn in surprise.
‘Legoland it is,’ affirmed Henry. ‘I think you’ll like it. It’s not just for little children, as you might suppose.’ He grinned. ‘It’s for big children as well. Like myself.’