CHAPTER TWO

Ilse remained at the Lausenstrom house for more than two years. Eventually Jorgen did acknowledge he had a third son, although he rarely spent any time with the baby. It had been the same when Lars and Leif were very young, only they had their mother to care for them. Jorgen simply hadn't known what to do with two babies and had preferred to leave their care to his wife as many of his friends did.

However, with Margaret gone, Hans spent his babyhood being cared for in the main by his grandmother. Until he was weaned the nursemaid remained, but after this Ilse insisted that Jorgen would not hire another woman to care for the baby; she would do it herself rather than allow him to be raised by a stranger.

Hans' twin brothers barely paid any attention to him either in the beginning, partially influenced by their father's attitude to the baby, but also lacking any interest in a child so small that he couldn't yet play with them. Ilse, known as 'Nana' to the boys, did her best to encourage them to spend time with Hans, but was largely unsuccessful. She spent hours each day telling the baby stories and playing with him and for long periods of time she was the only person he saw. The little boy's first word was "Nana" and she rapidly became his whole world until his second birthday.

Ilse had become homesick for Norway over the past months and longed to make a visit there, even for just a short while if she was still needed in Denver, but she hadn't dared leave Hans with a father and brothers who didn't seem to care whether he was there or not. However, when the little boy turned two, she made another concerted effort to bring the family together and amid some protest, arranged a birthday picnic for the Sunday after Hans' birthday. She ordered the carriage to take the five of them out of Denver to a spot beneath some trees and close to a creek, some two miles out into the country. The cook had packed up a delicious feast in a picnic basket for the family and around mid-morning they set off.

When the carriage halted beneath the trees, Jorgen jumped down and spread out a blanket they had brought with them onto the grass in the shade of a large oak, then helped Ilse down from the carriage, Hans in her arms. Lars and Leif leapt to the ground and ran excitedly towards the creek.

"Father, may we paddle?" they cried in unison.

"Very well. Try not to get wet," Jorgen agreed, lifting the picnic basket down from the carriage too and setting it on the blanket.

The two boys quickly unlaced their boots, rolled up their pants' legs as high as they could manage and eagerly waded into the water. Ilse sat down on the blanket and entertained Hans while Jorgen sat close by, watching the twins as they played in the creek and as usual paying little attention to anything Hans did. An hour later, Ilse unpacked the food and called the boys out of the water to eat. Everyone tucked into cold roast turkey, potato salad, meat pie, fruit pie, cake and other items until virtually nothing was left. Ilse had carefully hidden away a large slice of the cake with its sweet white frosting, knowing the boys would want another treat later.

After the feast, Lars and Leif returned to the creek for another game and Ilse leaned against the tree trunk, her stomach full and her eyelids drooping, the sun blazing down through the branches and eventually causing her to doze off. Relaxed for once, Jorgen removed his jacket, loosened his necktie and lay back on the blanket, his hands behind his head, staring up at the bright blue sky and wishing for the thousandth time that Margaret was there to share the moment with them. He squeezed his eyes shut, picturing her beautiful face, remembering the time they had spent together before she was cruelly snatched from him two years before. Would he ever be able to move on from her death?

Jorgen opened his eyes again slowly and watched Lars and Leif as they played and splashed, almost opening his mouth to shout at them for getting their clothes damp, but then relenting. He was aware he hadn't been much of a father to them since he had lost their mother. He'd done his best, but there had been no fun and games, no days out like this. He had always been a strict parent, but had still wanted the boys to enjoy themselves, even joining in with ball games on occasion when they were younger. He smiled a little wistfully as the two seven-year-olds tried a new game; climbing out of the water onto the bank and then taking flying leaps into the water to see how far across the creek they could get.

"Nana." Hans tugged at Ilse's skirt impatiently as she slept, bored with sitting still and wanting someone to talk to him. When there was no response, he tried again, pulling harder at the soft grey fabric of the dress. "Nana!"

In deep slumber, Ilse didn't stir. Jorgen glanced briefly towards them, noticing his youngest son sitting on the blanket beside his mother, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout of disappointment. Jorgen turned his attention back to the two boys in the creek and once again forgot about Hans. Eventually he too closed his eyes and dozed.

Having failed to get any response from his Nana, Hans turned his head from one side to the other, looking for something else to occupy him. His eyes fell upon his father, lying close by with his eyes closed, looking as grim and unapproachable in sleep as he did when awake. Even at such a young age he knew that any interruption wouldn't be appreciated and he got to his feet and watched his brothers for a moment as they started to build a dam in the creek with stones and fallen tree branches. He began to toddle towards them, thinking that the game looked like fun.

Lars and Leif raised their heads as one and watched their little brother approaching the shallow bank, surprised when he bent to pick up a large pebble and tossed it into the water where it landed on the pile of other stones they had gathered to make the dam.

"That's it, Hans," Leif said. "You can join in."

"Better take his shoes off, Father will go mad if he gets wet," Lars said and waded to the bank. "Sit down, Hans."

Hans plopped down onto his rear, starting to grin as Lars unfastened his shoes and pulled his socks off.

"There, now you can paddle."

Realising that Hans had probably grown up enough to join in their game at least a little, the older boys became more willing to accommodate him. Lars lifted him off the bank and placed him carefully on his feet in the shallow water.

"Be careful, don't fall down," Leif said, picking up a small boulder to add to the dam. "See if you can find some more stones and put them here, like this."

In less than an hour, the dam was complete, the water still finding a way to trickle through in places, but a large part of it becoming held up behind the heaps of stones, branches and mud. A deeper pool began to form and seeing their father and grandmother were both sleeping, Lars and Leif took the opportunity to strip down to their underwear and throw themselves bodily into the water. It wasn't really deep enough or wide enough to swim, but they could wallow and splash around.

Isle opened her eyes slowly, disoriented for a moment until she remembered they had all been having a picnic and that the heat from the sun must have sent her to sleep. She glanced over at her son where he lay sleeping and smiled to herself. Then her eyes lit on the blanket beside her where Hans had been playing. He was gone.

"Hans?" She pushed herself away from the tree trunk and sat up straight. She immediately caught sight of three blond heads just visible above the bank of the creek and heaved a sigh of relief, both that Hans was safe and that his brothers were spending time with him. Perhaps the picnic had been a success after all. She set about packing away the picnic things to save time later, leaving the three boys to their game.

"Nana, is there any cake left?" Lars asked suddenly, appearing at her side. Leif was close behind.

"Just a little piece. Where is Hans?"

"Paddling. He's alright," Leif said.

"He is too little to be left alone in the water," Ilse said anxiously. "Go and fetch him at once. Then you may all have a piece of cake."

Reluctantly the twins turned away and went back to the creek.

"Hans?" both of them said. "Hans, where are you?"

Ilse rose slowly to her feet, her heart thumping as she peered towards the water. There was no sign of Hans at all. Had he climbed out and wandered away?

"He's not there, Nana," Lars said as the pair walked back towards her.

"Jorgen, wake up!" Ilse exclaimed. She began to hurry to the creek herself, noticing that the boys' dam had been so effective that the water was almost up to the bank. Then much to her horror, Hans' head popped up across the other side of the man-made pool. He let out a choking squeal and then disappeared again.

"Jorgen!" Ilse screamed. "Hans is drowning!"

Jorgen jerked out of sleep and scrambled to his feet, his eyes first landing on the terrified white face of his mother, then his two sons, clad in only their underwear and soaking wet from head to foot. He swivelled towards the creek and caught a glimpse of the bright blue shirt Hans was wearing. For a brief moment he remained rooted to the spot, then his legs began to carry him towards the water before his brain had even engaged properly.

Lars and Leif watched in astonishment as their smart and proper father leapt off the bank, landing almost thigh deep in the water, trousers, shoes and all, and waded towards the floundering toddler, snatching him up in an instant and holding him tight to his chest, seemingly unconcerned that his crisp white shirt and dark grey vest were instantly sodden.

"Oh, dear God!" gasped Jorgen, patting the boy's back as he gasped and choked. He remained standing in the middle of the pool as he soothed the screaming child, his own heart thumping with shock and remorse.

"Margaret, can you ever forgive me?" he said under his breath.

Gradually Hans stopped spluttering and instead began to sob loudly, more concerned now at being grabbed by this virtual stranger who had all but ignored him up to this point.

"Nana!" he screamed, waving his arms towards his grandmother and struggling with all his might to extricate himself from Jorgen's grasp.

Jorgen waded slowly to the bank now and climbed out, heading towards his mother. He passed the boy to her at once, relieved when the screams instantly subsided although the terrible feeling of guilt in him remained.

"I'm so sorry, Mother," he said. "I've been a callous fool. Margaret would be ashamed."

Ilse smiled up at him. "Do not be too hard on yourself. Today you have turned a corner. Things will get easier now."

Jorgen nodded sadly and turned towards the twins. "Boys, go and break up that dam before it floods the whole county. Then we're going home."

Lars and Leif returned to the creek without a word and quickly dismantled the dam, then took off their soaked underclothes and pulled their shirts and pants onto their damp bodies, expecting their father to chastise them at any moment, first for getting wet and secondly for stripping to their skin outdoors. However, Jorgen remained silent and went to gather up Hans' shoes and socks from the bank, then stood watching while Ilse undressed the little boy and wrapped him in her shawl.

Jorgen rolled up the picnic blanket and placed that and the picnic basket into the carriage, then helped his mother into it. The boys climbed up and sat opposite, leaving Jorgen to take his place beside Ilse. He sat in silence, glancing frequently at Ilse as she held Hans on her lap, seemingly none the worse for his ducking in the creek. It was a great surprise to everyone when he reached down, opened up the basket and took out the last piece of cake, breaking off a chunk for each of the twins.

"Aren't you worried about crumbs, Father?" Leif asked, amazed that they were being invited to eat in the carriage and without even a plate.

"I think after today we can all agree there are more important things than a few crumbs," Jorgen said quietly. He held the last piece of cake out towards Hans. Hans stared back from wide eyes, not at the cake, but at Jorgen's face. The tall blond man with the stern face had never given him anything, not even his time.

"It's alright, Hans, you can have it," Jorgen said.

Two small hands reached out at last and took the piece of cake.

"Say 'thank you', Hans," Ilse reminded him.

"Fankoo," said Hans and began to cram the cake into his mouth with both hands.

Ilse looked over at her son and smiled warmly.

"You are all going to be alright," she said. "Margaret would be proud."