“Detention? I don’t know that word.”
The man frowned. “And I don’t know it in English or Farsi. We are stuck.” He held out his hand. “Alan Lund.”
Ben took the hand. “Ben Rider.”
§ § §
While they were eating and enjoying the very warm sunshine, Ben glanced over at Ingrid and asked hesitantly, “You taught young children, yes?”
She was browsing happily through his books and nodded. “Primary. Nearly forty years.”
“Did you ever…?” He stopped and busied himself feeding Radulf some more fish. “Did you ever teach??Ack, I don’t know the word.” He looked annoyed but added in English, “Twins?”
She wagged her finger at him. “No English. But, yes, of course, over forty years you teach many different children.”
“Boys. Nikolas and Aleksey Mikkelsen.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Godtfred’s grandsons?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.” She smiled at some private memory. “I teach Nikolas more than little Aleksey, though.”
“More?”
She laughed. “Aleksey didn’t like school very much. He preferred being absent.”
Ben felt as if he’d walked into sunlit uplands. He was sitting with someone who knew Nikolas—Aleksey—when he was a boy.
“You know Nikolas and Aleksey? That’s marvellous. I’ve not heard of them or the family since Nina died. It was so very sad. Poor boys.”
“I know Aleksey. Nikolas is dead.”
“Oh. Poor Aleksey. He adored his brother. Although he was a very wicked boy.” She chuckled. “He buried—this means dig him in like in the garden?—he buried Nikolas up to his neck in the sand one day and told him it was going to be a very high tide. Poor little mite was there for hours until he came back and dug him up again. Very bad boy.” The fond smile on her face told Ben another story.
“Tell me about Nina.”
She shook her head, remembering. “She was the most beautiful girl on the island. She came every summer from their estates near Copenhagen when she was a child. She played like an angel, the piano and the cello a little as well. She became quite famous—for Denmark. Then one day, we heard she was married. A Russian. I think she met him on tour. And then, what a surprise, she comes here with her two babies. And stayed, even after the summer was over. It must have been quite lonely for her. And she must have been very sad.”
“Was it a surprise? When she dead?”
“Died. When she died. Yes, it was. Very much so. The poor boys. Aleksey especially.”
“Why Aleksey?”
“Oh, he tried to find her. Swimming out to sea for her. Hours every day. He was such a good swimmer. They couldn’t stop him. He almost drowned, too. He was so little. Eight? Maybe younger, I don’t remember.”
“Ten. He was ten.”
“So old? He was very small. Is he still small?”
“No. Taller than me. A little.”
She smiled. “Is he a good man?”
Ben was tempted to say define good, but he didn’t know the word for define. He shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes no.”
“So, you’ve been here a month. How do you think your Danish is coming along?”
