‘And I have never forgiven myself. It was the greatest mistake of my life, to betray him, not to dare to fight for my one great love when he was there, holding me in his arms.’
Without warning, she raised her right hand and pulled the odd pewter ring from her ring finger.
‘I sent back the engagement ring in 1925. But I have always kept this. It was the first ring he bought for me. I think he got it for one krone. But it was as good as the only krone he had, and it was the first ring a man had ever given me. And as it turned out, I got it from the love of my life. So I am going to wear it until my dying day, to remind me of what was and what could have been.’
‘And your brother – did you ever forgive him?’
Her sigh was heavy.
‘I’m afraid I cannot say yes to that, even on the day after Magdalon’s death. It has lain between us for all these years, without us ever speaking about it. After I met my beloved again in 1935, I told him about the episode when I came home. But asking for forgiveness was not in Magdalon’s nature. Having heard what I had just been through, he did nothing, just sat there. He shook his head pensively, but said absolutely nothing. Then he turned back to his work and carried on in silence until I left. And I have waited and waited for him to ask me for forgiveness. He never did.’
Magdalena stubbed out her cigarette and finished her story in a determined voice.
‘People want to believe that the reason why we have spoken so little to each other in recent years is the war. But my old love story from 1925 left a deeper cleft between us. And it started to come to the fore again as I got older and was left sitting my own, alongside my brother’s steadily growing family. He thought he had the right to dismiss his only sister’s great love, but he could take whoever he wanted whenever it suited him. That did not make it any easier to forgive, not even for a sister who only had one brother left.’
I expressed my understanding. At the same time, I concluded that Magdalon Schelderup had been very sharp and astute in his telephone conversation with me. His closest circle was almost exclusively made up of people who might have wished him dead. And it was clear that even the deceased’s older sister had burnt with a deep passion.
I stayed in the cafe for some minutes after she had left and pondered the case. Then I got up, more thoughtful than ever, and went to my car, so I could drive up to the reading of the will at Schelderup Hall. This time I knew the content of the will to be read by Rønning Junior, but I was all the more anxious to see what reactions it caused.
