If it could be called that. If Tilbury had been sleepy and laidback little town, then Fjorthen barely qualified as a village. A couple of dozen wooden framed houses, some on stilts as the waters came right under them, a single high street and one shop that was store, post office and café all rolled into one.
She observed the woman that she supposed was her 'mother-in-law.' She still was having trouble reconciling this vivacious and stunning woman with the image that she had built in her head. From the moment that she had stepped on board Ægir's Captive, she had taken control. Kirsty smiled at the way the woman directed them all like they were an orchestra and she the maestro.
The shop keeper smiled as they entered. She greeted them in a language that Kirsty tried to place...vaguely a mix of the French which she knew well and German of which she knew only a few words. It made her uncomfortable that she could not understand anything that they said, but the woman seemed to be delighted at whatever Sven said to her.
While Sven and Petrine chatted with the woman, Olaf drifted off from the main group to greet a handful of older men who were playing chess as they drank coffee. They laughed loudly at something he said. Mikael had his hands full trying to keep Monika from touching every single thing in the shop. Kirsty frowned and considered approaching them. But she really had no idea where she stood in this situation...with him in particular. Would he resent her intrusion?
"What do you think?" Bjorn's voice caressed her mind as he laced his fingers through hers. "I know that it is nothing like your London, but it is home...to us anyway," she wanted to laugh at how sheepishly he looked at her.
She shook her head, "I guess some part of me is surprised that a place like this still exists...it is lovely. Really. Like something you would see in a painting."
He chuckled, "Don't be deceived. We all have satellite TV and the Internet. Not even Fjorthen can escape the twenty-first century." He nodded towards his uncle and the older men, "Even if some of them still complain about it."
Before she could ask anything else, Petrine and Sven joined them. "We should get a table. Adelaide will bring the food shortly." She smiled once more at Kirsty, "I know it is a bit to take in all at once, but we will chat later," she said before she glided across the room to the men.
She greeted them with a smile as she placed her arm lightly over Olaf's shoulders. Her laughter seemed to rise above all the others at something one of them said. "If you are finished, Old Man, the food will be here shortly," she directed at Olaf in English. Kirsty got the feeling it was primarily for her benefit.
The man had a twinkle in his eyes as he slapped her jean clad behind. Kirsty was more than a bit envious...her butt would never look that good in jeans. And this woman was at least sixty. As friendly as Petrine had been, she could not help feeling even more inadequate.
Olaf stood and wrapped his arms about her, drawing her tightly into his embrace as he said his farewells to his friends. Kirsty frowned as she saw the looks that the couple got once they had turned their backs on the group. Lust. Envy. Disgust. It was all there. She shook her head and reminded herself that this was a different culture, perhaps as with Monika, she was just reading things into the situation that were not there. But the stiffness in Sven's body next to hers and the dark scowl upon his face said that perhaps she was not.
When the couple re-joined them though, they were all smiles. Petrine took her hand and pulled away from Olaf, "We have so much to talk about. I have waited so long for this day. I know I must seem incredibly pushy. Blame it on my Americanism, everyone else does," she smiled as she led her to the largest table at the back of the shop. Kirsty glanced over her shoulder to see all of the guys falling into step behind them.
But it was the looks from those men that froze her blood and set off all too familiar anxieties in her. It was not just Petrine and Olaf, but now her as well. It made her feel...dirty somehow. She fought back tears. Then Sven stepped forward, blocking her view of them. His hand went to the small of her back as he bent in, whispering in her ear, "Keep walking, Kirsten. Ignore them."
She looked up into his face, ready to argue that it was not that easy. But the hard look in his eyes dared her to say anything. Then he smiled, though she could tell it was forced, it relieved some of tension, gave her a bit of courage as he held out a chair for her. He brushed a brief kiss on the top of her head as he pushed the chair forwards. She frowned, had he purposefully seated her so that her back was to the men?
Olaf and Petrine took seats across from her, leaving the two at the end open for Mikael and Monika when they joined them. So Kirsty found herself squeezed in between Sven and Bjorn. She could not stop his naughty words from last night flitting through her brain, but that only made things worse.
Maybe something was wrong with her. Maybe she deserved those stares. She looked down at the white table cloth as she felt those tears burning in her eyes again. She tried to hold them back, tried to focus upon the conversation going on all around her. When she finally found the courage to look up, Petrine smiled at her knowingly. The older woman reached across the table and put her hands over hers.
She would never know what the woman would have said though as the food began to arrive. Mikael brought Monika over and the little girl was sandwiched between him and his mother. The woman seemed to soothe the child though the girl would not eat and kept fidgeting in her seat.
The meal was peppered with more loud conversation some in English for her benefit and others in at least one other language...maybe two, she was not certain. As the meal progressed though it became harder and harder for the child to remain quiet. She was not particularly interested in food at the moment anyway so she suggested, "How about I take Monika for a walk?"
She was certain that they would decline her offer from the dark scowl on Mikael's face but Petrine spoke first, "That would be lovely, dear. There is a small park behind the school. Mikael will show you where it is. We won't be much longer then we will all join you."
It was not exactly the response she wanted. Remembering their time in the cabin that morning, she had hoped to avoid being alone with this man for a while. But she supposed it was best. After all Monika did not know her yet, so perhaps it was best if her father joined them. So she nodded and held out her hand as she stood. "What do you say, Princess? Would you like to go to the park with me?"
The little girl did not answer. Well, no words, not even a nod of her head. She just kept looking to the side somewhere. But she was out of her seat in an instant and trying to push past her father, who impeded her progress. This seemed to frustrate her though and she squealed.
"Let her go, Mikael. She will be fine. She knows her way to the park," said Petrine. With a smile to Kirsty, she added, "Just keep her in sight so she does not get distracted and wonder off."
Monika nodded and followed the little girl, who was already heading out the door. She did not even look back to see if Mikael was following them. But the woman seemed to be right as the child took a muddy path at the side of the store, it was too small to be called a road and the stones that paved it were loose. It was only fifty yards or so until they came upon another building, this one was stone and two story with a wide cement walkway leading to wooden double doors.
The child went right past the doors and disappeared around a corner. Only then did she notice that Mikael had followed them as he overtook her and called out for his daughter. Kirsty raced after him but there was no reason for alarm. Monika had found a swing and was happily rocking back and forth in it. She was not able to gain enough momentum to actually swing but that did not seem to matter to the child.
Mikael slowed as he approached his daughter, speaking to her in that language. Kirsty was not certain if he would welcome her intrusion so she hung back a bit, watching them interact from her perch near the small picket fence that surrounded the play area. There was not much in the park: a double swing set, a climbing frame and a slide. The little girl seemed to bounce happily from one activity to the other, barely noticing the father that hovered and spoke quietly to her on occasion.
Kirsty frowned; not once did the child look her father in the eyes, nor did she speak other than to grunt or squeal once in a while if she did not immediately get what she wanted. She felt pieces of an all too familiar puzzle falling into place. She shook her head as she reminded herself that she was not a psychologist or a pediatrician. She was not qualified to make a diagnosis that required a full history and a battery of exercises to evaluate. But she had worked with hundreds of Monikas for almost five years...and she could not help but see the truth that was staring right at her...even if the child was not.
Other truths were too. It was obvious from the way this man followed after his child that he loved her very much. Although she had worked almost exclusively with Mums, many of whom were single, Kirsty knew a concerned father when she saw one. The way he pushed her on the swing, stood extra close as she climbed on the frame, just in case she fell. He even clapped when she came down the slide...head first. That made it hard to stay mad at the man, damn him. As much as she wanted to, she found herself smiling at them.
"He loves her very much," that feminine voice said from behind her. She turned to see Petrine and Olaf walking up the path. She smiled and nodded in greeting as the older woman pushed open the gate that she was standing next to.
"But my granddaughter needs more than I can give her," she frowned. "I guess you have noticed, she is not a 'normal' five year old?"
Kirsty simply nodded, "She won't talk...or maybe she can't. Oh, she says a few words...mostly 'no' at the top of her lungs and our names...sort of anyway. But that is it." The woman shook her head and her long silver tresses moved against ivory skin, "Well, honestly, I am hoping that you might know more than we do," she smiled as she held out her hand.
Kirsty did not want to seem rude so she took it. This woman seemed so much more...touchy, feely than she was used to. She looked down at the grass, what little of it survive the mud, "I am not doctor. I can't really diagnose these sorts of things," she stammered.
"That is not what I meant, dear. I...we...don't want her tagged with anymore labels. But I suppose what I am saying is maybe, once you are settled, once you know her better, well, maybe you would have some ideas we could use to reach her," Kirsty could hear the way the woman's voice broke even before she looked up to see tears glistening in green eyes that reminded her so much of his.
