Anna settled herself
onto the hard leather seat. Inclining her head, she nodded her thanks again to
the young man sitting opposite for having hefted her hand luggage onto the
racks above her head. She was more grateful than he could know. As a solid
woman, the baby wasn’t really showing yet, thank goodness, but it was
definitely slowing her down. It was more than six years since her last
pregnancy and, at thirty eight, she was no longer in her prime. Bearing
children in middle age was certainly no fun and especially without the
protection of a husband. She understood all too well how she had gotten herself
into this predicament, and not for the first time, chastised herself for her
unbelievable carelessness.
The train carriage
lurched and Anna braced herself to stop from falling sideways onto the matronly
woman sitting alongside her. The compartment felt crowded even though there
were only the three occupants. The older woman had propped a voluminous carpet
bag, with the consent of the young man, on the seat opposite and he in turn had
opened a large broadsheet newspaper across from her. He must have picked it up
on the Ferry as she could see it was Swedish. The front cover carried a large
photograph of a hot air balloon. Anna squinted to read the type backwards. That
foolish Salomon Andree was still trying to fly across the Arctic[1].
There seemed to be no end to peoples idiocy these days she mused, there was
even talk of the train she was now sitting on being driven directly onto the
ferry[2].
What would they think of next?
As the train picked up
speed the newspaper fluttered. Anna gave up trying to read the reverse type and
closing her eyes she tried to relax back into the seat. She wondered if there
were others on the train running away. Surely she was not the only one? Nils,
her husband, had been dead for five long years. Five years of struggle and
loneliness. Her only saving grace now was the fact that her girls, Emmy and
Eleonora, were almost young women and able to help her with little Olaf.
Emmy had been left in
charge, at almost fifteen she was a good sensible girl and under the kindly eye
of Fru Akersson in the apartment across the hall, Anna was confident that all
would be well during her absence. She had told all and sundry that she was needed
in Charlottenburg to help her brother Johann nurse his poor sick wife. In
Germany she would be the recently widowed Frau Carlstrom, no-one need know how
recently, come to her brother in her bereavement and to give birth to her now
fatherless child. As long she didn’t
meet with an acquaintance, all would be well and she could return to her life,
reputation intact.
She was eternally grateful to Johann. As hard as
it had been to confess to her predicament, and although he was unhappy with
her, he had agreed that it would be better for her family if she could preserve
her dignity. In due course he had sent
money for her fare, and not without regret, she had put her plan into action.
The train lurched
again and Anna startled awake having momentarily dozed off, her head bowed,
chin to chest. Glancing out the carriage window she noticed they were just
leaving Neustrelitz, goodness, she must have been dozing longer than she
thought. Only a few more hours and her tedious journey would be at an end. Anna shifted
uncomfortably in her seat as she noticed her matronly companion had been joined
by a small child at the last stop. “My Grandson,” the woman announced proudly
to the compartment occupants. The sturdy blonde haired child, not more than three
or four years old, squeezed himself onto the seat between his Grandmother and
Anna and proceeded to devour, with great concentration, a large piece of wurst,
and a pickle, sandwiched between two great slabs of rye bread that the older
woman had produced from her bag. Anna surreptitiously tucked her skirt away
from the young lad to avoid the greasy crumbs that were inevitably spreading
from his impromptu picnic. She smiled down at his halo of blonde curls and
admired his endeavour in demolishing his meal. A little younger perhaps and
certainly fairer of face but he reminded her a lot of Olaf. Had it only been a
day? She realised with a pang that she already missed the children terribly.
Turning her face to
the window, Anna squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears that had sprung from nowhere.
How was she going to do this? She felt an unwelcome sensation of pressure
developing in her chest, like a steel band squeezing tightly, clamping around her
heart. The baby, sensing her distress perhaps, moved imperceptibly, causing
another wave of grief to roll across her. If only she had been more careful. If
only times were different. As a single woman with a family life was not at all
easy. Could she have managed another mouth to feed? Moved to another town and
started again perhaps? These internal struggles had been laid to rest when
Johann had told her of his friend. A tradesman, like himself, and his wife who
had not been blessed with a family of their own wanted to provide a good and
welcome home for the child. But could she do it? Could she give this baby to
strangers?
Tears flowing freely
now, she felt a sturdy hand upon her. “Are you alright dear?” The older woman
patted her arm gently, face full of concern. Anna fumbled for her handkerchief,
and wiping away the tears in an effort to compose herself, she stood up. “Yes
thank you,” she replied, balancing against the rocking motion of the train. “I
think I just need some air.” Pushing her skirts between the seats, Anna stepped
into the corridor, emotions reeling, she needed to get out, fearful that in the
face of such kindness she would unburden her whole sordid story.
Bibliography
Swedish-Led Artic Expedition in a Balloon Led
to a Tragic End, accessed
online, http://www.historynet.com/swedish-led-artic-expedition-in-a-balloon-led-to-a-tragic-end.htm
The Kings Route, Germany - Sweden, accessed online, http://www.trains-worldexpresses.com/webships/700/705.htm
