“We were just checking out the yoga lady out on the mountain,” she said, taking the stairs up to the porch in two long leaps.
Linn and Andreas stayed in the garden, chatting, and she could hear their voices through the front door that she had left open. Emelie dropped down onto the closest kitchen chair and sighed deeply. There was a bright red Christmas tablecloth on the table and she buried her face in it, shutting the world out for a moment. She was certain her face was exactly the same colour as the tablecloth. Suddenly a sound made her jump. It came from the cellar. A scratching sound, a bit like when you pulled a chair without furniture pads over a linoleum floor. But there were no linoleum floors in the cellar. Then she heard a thud - she certainly wasn’t imagining this! But Emelie couldn’t go down there now, wearing nothing but a towel. She quickly pulled on her jogging pants and a t-shirt and was just about to walk over to the cellar door when she froze. The sound was gone. No scratching, no thuds.
“Perhaps it was only a mouse,” she said to herself, and went back into the kitchen.
Chapter 9
Emilie walked up the cellar stairs with heavy steps. She had no idea how many times she’d made the same journey. As elves, Christmas curtains and Lucia brides found their way into properly marked boxes, the house was slowly transforming into a completely normal house without Christmas fever. She almost didn’t dare to count the number of boxes, and it wouldn’t be possible to keep them in the cellar forever; she had to figure out what to do with all these things. She heard the front door open and hurried up to greet Linn, who must have gotten off work early.
“Hello!”
Emilie sighed heavily, it wasn’t Linn but the walking specter, Birgitta. She chuckled, if Birgitta only knew what her and the girls called her behind her back, since she kept popping up without warning.
“Hello Birgitta”, she said.
“Ah, there you are, I didn’t think there was anybody home.”
Birgitta almost sounded a bit disappointed, but why would she come to visit if she thought that nobody was home?
“To what do I owe the honour?”
“Oh, nothing in particular, I was just passing by and figured I could pop in and see how you were doing?”
Birgitta looked lost and confused standing in Emelie’s kitchen. Her flowery, purple blouse had probably been fashionable and fit her ten years ago, but now the colours were faded and it looked uncomfortably tight over her chest and upper arms. Ever since Andreas had told Emelie about Birgitta’s fate and her sick and demanding husband, Emelie had a soft spot for the insistent old neighbour and now, a wave of tenderness swept over her.
“Do you have time for a cup of coffee? I was just making some coffee and I think it's perfect to sit outside under the apple trees right now”, she said, looking out over the back garden.
“But don’t you need help going through your cupboards and drawers?”
“I don’t want to look at another cardboard box or another Santa right now, thank you very much. Why don’t you go outside and put your feet up, and then I’ll come out with the coffee?”
When Emelie came out carrying a tray with a thermos, two cups with Santas on, Christmas napkins and a pack of biscuits, Birgitta was actually sitting in the white wooden sofa with her feet on the chair across from her. She had kicked off her sandals, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. When the tray hit the table she looked up. Emelie showed her the pack of biscuits.
“Nothing home-made or amazing, but some coffee and a small, store-bought biscuit.”
“Sounds lovely. It’s just so beautiful here in Astrid’s garden. Or, I meanyourgarden”, she said, and grabbed one of the biscuits.
“I understand that it will be Astrid’s house and Astrid’s garden for you for a long time to come, and it doesn't matter. The garden is mostly Andreas’ work and Astrid’s Christmas spirit is watching over the house,” Emelie answered with a chuckle.
As she was saying it, she felt that it was true. Things were starting to fall into place and she didn’t feel quite as stressed about all the things and Andreas’ presence anymore. As long as he stayed away from Linn. She peeked over at his little cottage. Perhaps she should ask him about those planks for a kitchen table anyways.
“So, you have gone through everything now?”
Birgitta slurped her coffee and took another biscuit.
“No, and now it's impossible to access the cellar, there are so many boxes there, so I really need to find a solution. I wonder where she got all those things, I bet she didn’t order them online?”
Birgitta seemed lost in her own thoughts, but then slowly shook her head.
“Yes, we really need to be able to find our way around the cellar,” she said distractedly.
She gave Emilie a distant look but then seemed to return to reality.
“What was that? You were wondering where she got everything? She was a collector for many, many years and everyone who ever went into town would always bring something back for her. I believe that Andreas is responsible of many of the items in that house. And then of course it was the market.”
“The market?”
“Yes, back in the day, up until perhaps seven or eight years ago, we always had a large Christmas market on the island, in the community centre to be exact. It was rather famous; people came from the mainland to visit it. Astrid was always there, her baking was famous, you see, and it sold like…yes, like hot cakes… and she always picked up some new Christmas things there”, Birgitta said, smiling at the memory.
