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Authors: Ragna Sigurðardóttir

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BOOK: The Perfect Landscape
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Hanna is deep in thought when Gudny gets up to go. She hugs them good-bye while talking on the phone, and is still talking as she pays the bill and disappears. Her driver is waiting.

Laufey appears in no hurry, and Hanna is quick to suggest a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. She needs to talk to her and preferably in private. This is an ideal opportunity, and she has been thinking all morning how to approach the subject of Steinn.

He has been off sick. “Steinn, who is never ill,” said Edda over the coffee machine that morning. “I’ve worked with Steinn for seven years and he’s never had a single sick day.”

Hanna had immediately suspected what was wrong but said nothing. The previous week she had looked up glaucoma on the
Internet and read about the symptoms of slow onset glaucoma. These could well explain Steinn’s behavior. A person’s peripheral vision deteriorates slowly but surely, creating blind spots, but the central vision remains largely untouched. If nothing is done about it, the condition will progress and cause blindness; people frequently do not notice the deterioration until it is too late. Acute glaucoma, on the other hand, can cause blindness in a very short space of time, in a matter of hours if nothing is done. Hanna does not know if slow onset glaucoma can change into acute or what is really the matter with Steinn, who is never ill. She doesn’t really feel she can call him; she can’t think up a good reason that doesn’t sound odd. Questioning him about his health seems almost like a vote of no confidence, and it would be inappropriate to keep asking him about it. She has decided to be patient, and besides she knows that Steinn doesn’t care for help or sympathy; he is a very proud man. She hopes that someone else, someone close to him, will see to it that he gets the help he needs, but she is not so sure.

The slices of cake arrive at the table immediately. Hanna and Laufey are probably getting the benefit of Gudny’s ministerial status, even though she has left. Hanna needs to get straight to the point because neither of them has much time. She tells Laufey what she thinks Steinn is suffering from and asks for her professional opinion as a doctor, what she should do. Laufey gives her a curious look.

“So you’re taking quite an interest in this man?”

Hanna does not deny it. She decides to be frank. “I’m not exactly falling for him, but there’s something about him, Laufey. I don’t quite know. Anyway, there’s nothing between us. Besides, he’s married.”

“And so are you,” says Laufey, smiling. Hanna smiles back.

“Whether I like Steinn is not the point. I’m just concerned about him.”

“How is Frederico anyway?” Laufey interrupts. “How is the long-distance relationship going?”

Hanna sighs silently. Laufey always senses what is on Hanna’s mind. She can’t get away from it.

“Things aren’t entirely OK between us,” she says, setting her fork and a delicious bit of cake back down on the plate. Then she comes out with it. Says it out loud for the first time since she stumbled on what was going on; she feels as if she is looking down into an abyss. “He’s been seeing someone else.”

The words sound banal and ordinary. She does not look at Laufey as she says it, not into her warm dark eyes, but past her, at the people at the next table, a young couple who are eating soup. They look as if they are in love. She looks at the girl; she seems so young, too young to have a boyfriend. She looks past them and out onto the street, looks at the scene through Frederico’s eyes, as he saw it, that winter when he tried to live here. It is cold, gray, and ugly. She feels so downcast.

Laufey must see it, too, because she lays her hand on Hanna’s arm. They sit in silence for a while. Laufey carries on eating. She waits, giving Hanna the opportunity to say something further, but she doesn’t.

“Steinn is just a friend,” she says instead. “He’s been a friend to me ever since I began there.” Hanna feels Laufey’s eyes on her, senses the doubts she does not put into words, and for a second she is uncertain of herself. Is Steinn really a friend or does he just need a helping hand? She is not entirely sure but leans toward the feeling of friendship. Yes, he is a true friend.

“I don’t know how I can put this to him or get him to go to the doctor’s. Or how he can get an appointment at the hospital. I think it’s too important for him to delay any longer.” Hanna forces herself to eat the chocolate cake, and after she has swallowed a few mouthfuls she feels better. She knows that Laufey will not mention Frederico again, and she is grateful to her for that. She won’t talk to anyone else about it either, and Hanna is relieved to have a friend she can trust.

“What about his wife?” asks Laufey.

“She is an artist, and they have two children, quite small I think,” replies Hanna.

“Do you know her?”

Hanna shakes her head.

“You should just tell him straight-out, Hanna, ask the man about it. Give him a kick,” says Laufey. “It can’t go on like this. You can point him in the right direction, to the eye clinic at the hospital. I wish I could help more, but I have to go now.”

Laufey and Hanna both get up and hug each other and all that is left unsaid between them is expressed in that embrace. For the first time since Hanna realized what was going on, she finds herself holding back her tears. Until now, her anger at her husband has been overwhelming, but Laufey’s empathy helps dissolve those feelings. Hanna needs to make up her mind whether she wants to stay in the marriage. She needs to know in her heart whether she is doing it for her own sake or for Heba, and she hasn’t yet made that decision.

When Hanna gets back to the gallery, an e-mail from the auction house where Elisabet Valsdottir bought
The Birches
is waiting for her. She is surprised to hear back from Mr. Jensen. The e-mail reveals the name of the first auction house, the one
that sold the paintings from the butcher’s collection, where
The Birches
was originally bought, but not the name of the middleman. Hanna can see that Steinn is right; this kind of information is not handed out on a plate. She contacts the auction house immediately and quickly receives an e-mail listing all the works the auction house sold from the butcher’s collection. Not one of them is attributed to Gudrun Johannsdottir, and the list doesn’t include photos of the paintings. It only gives the title, subject matter, size, and artist’s name, but in some cases the painter is unknown. There is only one oil painting the same size as
The Birches
. It is dated the first half of the twentieth century. The motif is given as a birch thicket, but no mention of a mountain or of Iceland. The painter is listed as unknown, the value a fraction of the eight million kronur that Elisabet paid for it. Hanna goes through the list carefully. There is only one work that is a possibility. Finally she sends a note of thanks and asks for a photo of painting number thirty-seven, painter unknown.

Something doesn’t ring quite true. Why is the landscape just listed as a birch copse when Mount Baula is such a critical element in the painting? And it clearly is not a Danish landscape. Hanna is deep in thought when she hears Steinn’s voice out front. So he can’t be very ill, which is a relief.

Edda and Steinn are standing in the corridor and Hanna rushes out, eager and happy. She is pleased that there’s nothing seriously wrong with Steinn, and she wants to tell him about the e-mail from the auction house. She is even more relieved when she hears him tell Edda that he has been to the doctor and says, “My wife sent me to the optometrist!”

Hanna walks toward Steinn with a smile, hardly noticing the dark-haired woman standing with him and Edda. She
assumes the woman is there to see Edda because they are chatting and laughing at something.

“So you’re here!” she says. She looks at him happily, but is taken aback when she sees that he is holding the dark-haired woman by the hand. She is tall and slender and very good-looking. Hanna immediately realizes that this must be Steinn’s wife. She instinctively adopts the en garde position, winds down her delight at seeing Steinn again, and pulls her face back to neutral, dulling the glow in her eyes.

The two women size each other up. Hanna makes sure she keeps her expression detached and holds out her hand.

“You must be Helga. Steinn has told me about you. I’m Hanna—I’m the director of the Annexe.”

Helga smiles wholeheartedly at her, evidently concluding that she has nothing to fear where Hanna is concerned. To be so unexciting is hurtful to Hanna; maybe this is why Frederico was unfaithful?

Helga and Steinn are tall and make a stunning couple. They seem to have a happy, loving relationship, and Hanna feels a flare of bitter envy and jealousy at their happiness.

“Nice to meet you,” says Helga. “Steinn speaks highly of you.”

Hanna becomes mindful of the fact that she has not mentioned Steinn to Frederico.

“Helga is an artist,” says Steinn, and Hanna can hear the pride in his voice.

“I’m familiar with your work,” says Hanna, as if she were on the fencing piste about to attack. She falls silent, which speaks volumes about Helga’s painting. Touche, she thinks to herself. She is ashamed of her unseemly behavior but cannot
help herself. She has been put in the balance and found wanting. The only course in this situation is self-defense.

When Steinn comes into the office a moment later, he is on his own.

“Were you ill?” asks Hanna cautiously, not sure how he might react to her question or whether he picked up on the tension between her and Helga, but Steinn gives no indication if he has.

“No, no,” he says calmly. “Helga sent me to the optometrist, and we made an appointment at the hospital. I need an operation. But there’s a long wait, a few months.” He feels in his shirt pocket and pulls out a little vial of drops. “Until then I have to use these. And I’m not allowed to drive. That’s why Helga is here. She’s looking after me like a baby.”

Hanna nods and doesn’t ask any further questions, doesn’t even mention the glaucoma.

“I’ve been in contact with both auction houses,” she says. Steinn looks at her quizzically. “I still haven’t found out who bought the painting before Elisabet. But I’m waiting for a photo from the first auction house,” she adds. “So we can be sure it’s the same painting.”

“Hmm,” says Steinn but nothing more.

Hanna does not know what he is thinking. She hears Edda’s footsteps approaching from behind.

“I really ought to show you something, Hanna,” says Steinn hurriedly. “Have you got a moment to have a quick look now?”

Hanna agrees straightaway. She also wants to talk about this in private, so she follows Steinn out of the office and down to the basement, where
The Birches
is standing on an easel against a wall. Hanna has come to really dislike this work she once thought was so beautiful.

“You don’t think we can actually continue with this, do you?” she asks, partly hoping that Steinn will be in agreement. She is not sure she wants to turn up every possible stone, but she is also ashamed of thinking like that. Not to bother investigating the painting to the fullest would be like taking part in the forgery herself, if indeed it is a forgery.

But Steinn doesn’t respond. He clutches his head in his hands and staggers forward. Hanna sees beads of sweat appear on his upper lip; he groans and leans heavily against the table. Hanna reaches out her hand.

“Is everything all right?”

“No, I don’t think it is.” Steinn sits down on a stool, holding his head. When he looks up, one eye is red and bloodshot.

“I can’t see,” he says, trying to stand, but he loses his balance and stumbles. Hanna goes to steady him, but he falls to the floor with his hands to his head.

Hanna crouches down next to him, makes sure he is breathing, grabs her cell phone out of her pocket, and calls for an ambulance and then up to Edda. Within seconds Edda and the other women are down in the basement. Hanna tells them not to panic; the ambulance is on its way. Agusta goes back up to watch for it, and Edda calls Helga, who left only a short while ago.

Hanna is scared. She feels her heart thumping in her chest; she feels frightened for Steinn lying there unconscious on the floor. She crouches down next to him and holds his cold, clammy hand. What could it have been that he wanted to show her? He must have gotten the X-ray of the painting. Curious, she looks around but can’t see anything. Besides, it’s even more cluttered with paintings and various artifacts down here than usual.

It has been a busy week preparing for the opening next weekend. The walls had to be repainted, so the paintings that would otherwise permanently hang in the gallery have been moved. Steinn has removed Sigfus Gunnarsson’s painting,
Composition in Blue
, which the gallery was given the year before, down from the wall on the staircase and temporarily made space for it in the basement. It is now standing on the floor, shrouded in Bubble Wrap, in Hanna’s line of vision as she crouches down holding Steinn’s hand.

She keeps half an eye on Steinn, who is breathing evenly, although he’s pale and beads of perspiration glisten on his forehead.

The outlines of the painting are clearer through the plastic. There is a half-moon, divided by a diagonal line. She has seen this line before, this shape, but she can’t remember where, she is in such a state. The painting is on its side, and Hanna sees it from a new perspective. But she doesn’t think about that; she is thinking about Steinn. She is fond of him; she cannot imagine losing his friendship. He has supported her from her very first day, he has kept an eye on her at work, and he has been there for her whenever she has needed him. She stares at him, then at the painting, back at Steinn, and then finally, after what seems like an eternity, she hears footsteps and the EMTs’ voices. She explains what happened, tells them about the headaches, the shooting pain in his eye, and how it went all bloodshot.

“I think he’s had an attack of acute glaucoma,” says Hanna.

“What makes you say that?” asks an EMT.

Hanna gives a hurried and rather muddled response because there’s no time to lose and she doesn’t think they are
really listening. “Just look in his shirt pocket—he’s got eye drops. He was at the optometrist yesterday.”

BOOK: The Perfect Landscape
9.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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