Satellite People - [32]

The only person at the table who appeared to be unruffled was, incredibly, the youngest. Maria Irene Schelderup’s face and body were both still completely relaxed. Her charming young girl’s hands lay open and still on the table.

‘However…’

A tense silence fell in the room as soon as the lawyer’s voice was heard. This time, I also stared at him in anticipation. This was not something he had mentioned on the telephone.

‘However, an earlier version of the will exists, which Magdalon Schelderup gave orally and which he wanted to be read out with his current will. It was written on 12 August 1968 and was then annulled when this new will was formalized on 6 May 1969. The annulled version is far shorter…’

He took another short, dramatic pause while he looked for the second sheet, and then apparently checked three times that it was the correct one.

‘The annulled will stated the following: With the exception of two million kroner to be paid to my wife Sandra Schelderup, 200,000 kroner to be paid to my son Fredrik Schelderup and 200,000 kroner to be paid to my son Leonard Schelderup, I hereby leave all my financial wealth and assets to my daughter Maria Irene Schelderup.’

Suddenly all the dammed-up emotions in the room broke loose. Audibly.

Hans Herlofsen heaved a sigh of relief, clutched his throat and loosened his tie further.

Fredrik Schelderup’s smile was even broader this time and he raised his glass with a jovial: ‘Here’s to the new will.’

Leonard Schelderup hid his face in his hands, but judging by the movements in his neck, he was chewing more frantically than ever on his gum.

Sandra Schelderup looked daggers at him a couple of times and then lost all composure. The atmosphere was electric and everyone, including Mr Rønning Junior himself, started when she flew into a rage, first slamming her fist down on the table and then shaking it threateningly at her two stepsons.

The only person who appeared not to be affected by this outburst was the very person my eyes were trained on.

As the annulled will was being read, I thought I saw the very tip of her tongue in the left-hand corner of her mouth. But afterwards, Maria Irene Schelderup was just as impassive as before.

I had to ask myself how I would have reacted in a similar situation, where a new will drawn up four days previously had cost me roughly 90 million kroner. Even though she was still to inherit 30 million or so, it was almost impossible not to be impressed by the eighteen-year-old’s self-control.

It was in that moment that I realized that I was, if not in love, certainly hugely fascinated by the late Magdalon Schelderup’s young and seriously wealthy daughter.

IX

The gathering soon broke up once the will had been read. Having downed his sherry, Fredrik Schelderup excused himself as he had ‘celebrations to attend’. He left the room and no one made any attempt to congratulate him.

Herlofsen and the Wendelboes were more polite in their retreat, but almost as fast.

Ingrid Schelderup embraced her son, who was still visibly shaken, and helped him, it would seem, to regain his composure. Schelderup’s former wife showed a new, sharper side when she thanked her hosts for their hospitality, despite not having touched a thing. It was almost possible to see the sparks in the air between Magdalon Schelderup’s two wives. Maria Irene saved the situation by clasping Ingrid Schelderup’s hand, quick as a flash, to thank her and wish her a good journey home. Her mother then pulled herself together enough to shake her guest’s hand and to whisper goodbye in a manner that was not too spiteful.

Leonard Schelderup had apparently still not regained the power of speech, but, he too did his best to smooth over any conflict by giving an apologetic shrug before leaving the room, and then the house, on light feet in the wake of his mother.

Edvard Rønning Junior the lawyer and I were suddenly left on our own with four women: the deceased’s wife, daughter, sister and mistress.

It was only now that I discovered that Magdalena Schelderup was sitting there with an inscrutable expression on her face and more than ever resembled an old owl. I would have given a lot to know what she was thinking. It struck me that there was something different about her but, rather annoyingly, I could not put my finger on what.

Synnøve Jensen sat as though frozen on the other side of the table in her plain clothes, with her face in her hands, only now her future and that of her unborn child had been secured.

You could almost touch the ice that chilled the air between the deceased’s wife and mistress. Again it was Maria Irene who suddenly saved the day – and this time without saying a word. She calmly put her hand on her mother’s shoulder and more or less pulled her from the room. Magdalena Schelderup followed them with her eyes but stayed seated, her face still thoughtful. She poured herself a cup of coffee. We watched her drink it in almost breathless silence, and waited for a message that never came.

It was Rønning Junior who first stirred to action. He informed Synnøve Jensen in a sombre tone that if she came by his office with her bank book tomorrow or the day after, he would arrange for her to be paid the 200,000 kroner as soon as possible. He then gave her his business card, and shook hands with those who were still there before leaving the room.