Chapters (28)
Agneta Corrin is walking along the beach, thinking of the past. Ships of all sizes dot the harbour, their flags billowing like clouds against the bright blue sky. It is a good day, she thinks. No storm clouds on the horizon, only ships. One ship in particular catches Agneta’s eye. The flag it flies is a French one; it has carried its passengers all the way from Calais. They will be tired when they arrive, they will need food and shelter and to see the faces of their friends. The orphanage is not the grandest accommodation, but Agneta has prepared a bedroom for her guest. She has told the children and the people in the village that she is expecting a visit from her sister. The villagers raised their eyes. Agneta has a sister? They wanted to know about her, how she came to live in France, why Agneta has never spoken of her before. Agneta pushed away their enquiries with her trademark smile. She is a woman of many secrets. Like a well-made dress, she keeps them tucked within the boundaries of her person. Soon, people had forgotten that she had even mentioned it and now, when they see her, they raise their hands in greeting which she returns.
She throws a stick for Wolfert, smiling as he races along the sand to retrieve it. Her dog is a scrappy thing, grey-haired and of little pedigree. She found him one day sheltering in an alcove of the orphanage, whimpering as a storm blew past overhead. She dragged him out and took him indoors and fed him nourishing broths until he regained his strength. Now his loyalty is unwavering. He grabs the stick between his teeth, trots back to her and drops the damp wood at her feet. Agneta leans down to pick it up, but before she can reach it, a small hand belonging to a three-year-old darts out and seizes it. The child is steady on her feet and she laughs as Wolfert waits patiently for her to toss it, his tail twitching eagerly.
‘Go on, Brechtje,’ Agneta says.
The small girl draws back her hand as far as she can and throws. Agneta scoops her up, laughing. Together they make their way down to the marina and the ship that has just docked, bringing the woman who changed Anna’s life all those years ago. Beyond the forest of masts, the sea draws a breath and sighs and Anna hears in it all the longing and desire of a life well lived, the memories trapped beneath its glassy surface. She smiles at Catharina who tears her gaze away at last from the child with the golden curls and the sombre eyes to smile back, her expression full of wonder and hope.