Who could tell me about Leonard Schelderup’s life now that his father was dead, his mother was asleep and his brother knew nothing, proved to be a good question.
The head of the institute at the University of Oslo was not of much help. ‘Young Mr Schelderup’ had had very good qualifications and made a favourable impression, but he had only been there for six months and so had not yet got to know his more senior colleagues. As his supervisor had been abroad on sabbatical, the young Mr Schelderup had mostly worked on his own. The head of the institute thought that he seemed very nice, if a bit shy. I agreed with this conclusion, even though it did little to help. The conversation ended with the head saying that they had no doubt lost a great talent and that it would unfortunately mean a lot of work for the institute as the stipend would have to be advertised again.
The athletics club was my next port of call, but there was not much to be had here either. The chairman of the club expressed his sorrow and said what a loss it would be to the team only days before the annual Holmenkollen relay race, and then gave me the number of the man who had been Leonard Schelderup’s trainer for many years.
Other than the dead boy’s mother, the trainer was the first person who sounded as though he would genuinely miss him. He said in a gentle voice that not only was Leonard Schelderup one of the greatest talents he had ever met, but also one of the greatest people. There was an incredible contrast between his iron will and competitive instinct on the track and his gentle, considerate nature otherwise. As far as the trainer could remember, he had never said no when the club asked him to do something. In the past couple of years, however, it had been generally understood that it was best not to ask without warning. They could see that it made him uncomfortable and they feared it might ruin his concentration in competitions.
The trainer had met Leonard Schelderup’s mother on numerous occasions, and also his stepmother and sister a couple of times, but he only knew his father through the media. Leonard had been in the club since he was fourteen, but only his mother ever drove him to training in those early years. Then, when he was sixteen, he started to come on a bike and, later, when he had turned eighteen, in a car. But always on his own, as far as he could remember. It was not generally known in the club whether he had ever had a girlfriend. If I wanted, I could have the names and numbers of some of the people he had run and trained with, but it was unlikely that any of them had ever been to his home.
