Alma Clausen had been pigeonholed ahead of time by her guest. Widow of a farmer, a woman in her midfifties. Pious and from Tarm—all data that in Poul Troulsen’s view stank of the cowshed, thickened sauces, narrow-mindedness, and plenty of room for intellectual improvement. Reality, however, proved quite different.
His expectations were initially met, however, in that Alma Clausen was a kindly, unassuming person, short and with a clothing style that he could describe only as drab. Her home was modest and nondescript. Flowery wallpaper, embroidered bell strings, and Amager shelves with porcelain figurines from Salzburg. Liver-paté-colored mediocrity. Only at an embarrassingly late stage did Troulsen finally realize that the woman was incredibly sharp. This as he slowly and loudly asked her about her life.
“I thought you had received a report about me. Haven’t you had a chance to read it?”
Haven’t had a chance was the polite version; haven’t bothered would be more accurate.
“What leads you to believe that we have a report about you?”
Her answer came without sarcasm: “Among other things because I spent an hour on the phone last night with the detective from Ringk?bing who was supposed to write it.”
“I am trying to get these facts straight from you.”
He could hear himself how unconvincing his explanation sounded. She glanced at his bag, then looked him in the eye and caught him out as if he were a child who had not done his homework.
“It is straight from me. Now I will get us something to eat. You can have a cup of coffee while you read.”
And so it went.
Alma Clausen graduated in 1972 from Copenhagen University with a degree in theoretical physics and was accepted by the Niels Bohr Institute in Copenhagen. In 1977 she defended her doctoral dissertation. That same year she gave up her academic career for a life as farmer’s wife in ?dum. She and her husband eventually celebrated their silver anniversary. When he died, she sold the farm and moved to Tarm. There she read up on the latest research in her discipline and was now an online instructor for the universities of Copenhagen, Berlin, and Stockholm. She had no children.
She called out to him from the kitchen, almost to the second when he was done reading.
“Come out and help me with the salad and I’ll tell you about my work.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to follow you.”
“Nonsense. Everyone understands it to some extent. No one understands it completely. That’s what’s so interesting about physics.”
She was right, it was genuinely interesting. He sliced away and listened with fascination.
It was almost four o’clock before he got to the heart of his errand, which was Per Clausen’s personality. By that time he had long ago turned off the tape recorder, which had appeared to irritate her. In turn she made every effort to answer his questions, as if one favor deserved another.
“How well did you really know your brother?”
“That’s difficult to say. We don’t see each other so often, and when we do, I’m almost always the one who comes to him, that is, except for last week. We sometimes e-mail and we call from time to time, often in regard to a mathematical problem.”
“You help him with mathematics?”
“Unfortunately, no. It’s always the other way around. He helps me. Per is the brains in the family.”
“And when you communicate, is it only about science?”
“You could say that. Mathematics, physics, and statistics mainly, but we also discuss other areas such as religion, for example.”
“Religion? Is your brother religious?”
“No, quite the opposite. I am, he is not.”
“What about relationship matters? Do you talk about that?”
She didn’t answer directly but continued to elaborate.
“It’s only these past few years that Per has started to show an interest in spirituality, and that should be understood very broadly. Not in Christianity, that is, more precisely in questions of faith, morality, hate, love, compassion, and judgment … those kind of things.”
“That strikes me as very lofty. No, that’s the wrong word. ‘Theoretical’ is more what I mean.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Per is always very practical. Would you like an example?”
“Yes, please.”