Nordstrum spent the week on business trying to assess what the Germans’ intentions were with the plant, and it was only when Einar contacted him, saying it was urgent they speak the following morning, that Nordstrum ventured into town. Natalie had crossed his mind many times in the past few days, but just as quickly he’d pushed the thought away, as something that might have had hope if he was not in the midst of a war, but now had no prospect. Not to mention she was an Austrian citizen who would be gone in a week, and in the meantime, was surrounded by a company of Germans.
Still, he did come down into town the night of the concert from the hut at Swansu to wait in the shadows of the Mercantile League building across from King Edvard Hall. He did not dare go in, of course. It was far too risky. He was still a hunted man, though it had been a year since the raid and his face was no longer on every door. But from across the street he did hear the pleasing sound of a cello from within, punctuated by peals of enthusiastic applause.
He had no real intention to meet her—there were far too many Germans around. Still, he was here, even if inside he couldn’t fully answer why.
After what he was sure was the final applause, the doors of the hall opened and spectators streamed out—mostly Germans of all ranks and a few Hirden, some with women on their arms, which made the bile in Nordstrum’s gut rise. There were collaborators in every crowd.
He waited across the street from the side entrance, the performers’ door. Several German officers and a few town dignitaries congregated there. A voice inside him told him to go. Go. He had no business here. But after a few minutes, the doors opened and Ritter and Natalie came out, to much attention. She was beautiful, dressed in a tasteful red dress with a brooch on her breast, her hair pinned up, a black wool coat covering her against the cold, and this time, to his amusement, she wore real boots. Still, her smile was as radiant as her dress as she greeted and shook the hands of the well-wishers, German and Norwegian alike, tied to her grandfather’s arm.
At a lull, her gaze drifted to the street, in some disappointment perhaps, as if expecting someone who did not show.
Nordstrum stepped out of the shadows.
She saw him. Her face lit up. There was no way to hide it. She waited for him to come over, but he motioned her over to him. After she shook another hand or two, she whispered something in her grandfather’s ear and, buttoning her coat, came across the street.
“I’m happy to see you,” she said brightly.
“Me, as well,” he said. “I found myself here after all. Would you mind stepping over here?” Out of the glare of the street, a few feet down the alley. The congratulations were ongoing. No one seemed to have noticed her departure.
“Were you at the concert?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Nordstrum lied, “music is not my passion. But I see you are now in the height of Norwegian fashion.” He acknowledged her laced boots.
“Yes, after your lesson I’m trying hard to fit in. We are going to have dinner back at the hotel with some of our hosts. Are you available to join us?”
“I’m afraid not,” he declined. His eye shot across the street to the crowd of officers and Hirden. “And I’m afraid I’m not dressed for the occasion.”
“I understand,” she said. “I told Papa I had a headache and would meet him back at the hotel. At the very least you can walk me there.”
It still wasn’t the smartest idea, but Nordstrum didn’t want to give her any cause to suspect him. Or disappoint her. The crowd had now dispersed. “It would be my pleasure.”
It was only two or three blocks. And while Rjukan was a tiny town, he led her to the side of the street. A couple of Germans went by, tipping their caps to Natalie. “Fraulein.” Maybe they had been inside.
Nordstrum averted his gaze as they went by.
“You don’t seem to be at home in the company of Germans,” Natalie observed.
“As I told you, they are occupiers of my country,” Nordstrum said. “I feel like a lot of the people do.”
“You know, to some, Austria is an occupied country as well. The Anschluss that merged our countries is not how all of us feel.”
“Still, your grandfather plays Beethoven and Bach, serenading the Nazis.”
“Yes, the Germans come to hear,” Natalie said. “A musician plays to his audience. So who is your audience, Mr. Holgersen? Besides saving ladies’ hats, what is it you do?”
“I was studying to be an engineer before the war.”
“An engineer. Buildings? Ships?”
“More like bridges and dams.”
“And whose bridges or dams would you be building these days, if you had the chance? Norway’s or the Reich’s?” She stopped. “In war, we all do things that are not a matter of choice. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course I understand,” he said. “The answer is, if directed to, I would not be building bridges or dams right now.”
He looked at her. Her eyes glistened in the lamplight. As bold as it would have been, if he wasn’t in public, with a hundred Germans only paces away, he might have kissed her right there.
“How long will you be staying?” he asked instead, taking her arm and continuing down the hill.
“We have another performance scheduled for the sixteenth. Next Sunday. Then we are off to Oslo and Copenhagen on the morning ferry Monday and back home. Are you around in Rjukan during that time?”
He didn’t answer right away. He had a job to do. Even to be here now was a risk. Her hotel was just ahead. As they approached, he noticed too many Hirden and Germans for him to go any farther. He led her to the side under a shop’s canopy. “I think it’s best I leave you here.”
“If I told my grandfather my headache would cause me to miss supper, would you be able to dine with me?”
“I can’t.” Though nothing would have pleased him more. “I’m sorry.”
She took his arm. “Well, anyway, I’m very pleased you showed up. I was wondering if you would. Perhaps I will see you again before we leave.”
“That would be my wish.”
“My wish as well.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She said with a wry smile, “I’m not sure you could be building any bridges these days, Mr. Holgersen, given how you seem to keep to yourself.”
He squeezed her hand as she went into the lobby. She turned back once with a smile, and then he saw her being greeted by the throng of fawning German officers. “Ah, Fraulein Ritter…”
Averting his face, Nordstrum headed back up the hill. He wished this war would be over at last. He was tired of having to live life in the shadows.
61
Dieter Lund heard August Ritter’s performance at the concert hall, seated in the third row, next to Trudi, who was bulging a bit out of some new bright red dress she had ordered from Copenhagen, and Major Ficht, newly in charge of the security team at Vemork.
The old cellist held the house spellbound, playing Brahms, Mozart, and Beethoven, and finishing with a Grieg concerto.
At the end, the hall stood and erupted in applause.