Little Swedish Nightingale

A piece of phiction which tells of events leading to the birth and childhood of Christine Daaé, beloved little nightingale of Papa Daaé - she who would become the Phantom’s Angel of Music

Part 1 – Karolina and Niklas

"Order for Table Number Five, Karolina," called the man from behind the bar. The young waitress smiled her acknowledgement and went to collect the tray of crockery and glasses.

Carrying the laden tray before her, the pretty fair girl deftly weaved her way between the tables, set out attractively on two levels. She wore a crisply starched broderie anglaise apron over her neat white pintucked blouse and long black skirt, her wheat-blonde hair hanging over one shoulder in a long plait. She smiled at the seated customers until she came to those whose order she was about to deliver. Removing the coffee cups from the tray she placed them before the couple seated there, followed by the pot of coffee, jug of cream and sugar bowl. There was a delicate glass of apricot liqueur for the lady and a balloon of golden brandy for the gentleman, who pressed a coin in her hand and complimented her excellent service. She in turn thanked him and his wife in the charming way that lit up her sparkling blue eyes, then made her way back to the kitchens.

The Kingfisher Restaurant was exceptionally busy. A well-known opera company from Italy was playing a short season at one of the town’s two theatres, and patrons had spilled into every bar, bistro and restaurant in the area following that evening’s performance of Così Fan Tutte. At the Kingfisher all the tables were occupied by contented diners enjoying the excellent cuisine of their favourite chef, and who were being served quickly and efficiently by two waiters and the young waitress.

Behind the bar stood Herr Stefan Daaé, vigorously polishing glasses prior to stacking them on shelves. A tall handsome man with thick dark curly hair streaked with grey, he possessed a pair of merry dark eyes which were twinkling with admiration as he watched the young girl make her progress back round the tables, smilingly taking more orders as she did so.

Herr Daaé, proprietor of The Kingfisher Restaurant, grinned at the girl when she glanced in his direction, nodding his warm approval. He was very pleased with young Fröken Karolina Bacht. She had proved herself a willing and adept worker, always so lively and good-natured that his customers quickly grew to know and appreciate her cheerful service.

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Karolina had been working at The Kingfisher for just over six weeks, serving both as a waitress and receptionist. She loved her job, for it was a friendly environment in which to work and where formality was dispensed with, the staff being known by their first names. In turn they were asked to address their employer by his own given name, for he disliked standing on ceremony.

Karolina also assisted Stefan with the accounts, for he had noted from the start her quick intelligence and that she was ably educated. At twenty years old she had come to the town of Sävja from the small village on the outskirts of Uppsala which was her home. Her father had died some ten months ago and after his funeral and all his outstanding debts had been paid, she and her mother were left with very little in the way of a regular income. Therefore, with her mother’s blessing, Karolina had left home to find work elsewhere, and was thus able to greatly help her widowed mother by sending her money each week from her wages and from the many gratuities she received.

The young waitress had found a clean and comfortable lodging with a kind friend of Herr Daaé. It was only a small room but adequately furnished and with her few treasures spread around her, she was perfectly happy with her surroundings. There was also a tiled bathroom to share with Fru Bakker, her landlady, and she took her meals in the cosy parlour with her hostess, an excellent cook and housekeeper. The good lady was also a skilled needlewoman who made, among other things, exquisitely embroidered tapestries and kneeling pads for the church.

Evi Bacht, Karolina's mother, had decided to sell her house near Uppsala and move to be near her daughter. While the sale of the house proceeded, Karolina wrote to her Mamma every week, enclosing some money with her letters and assuring her that she was well and happy.

Herr Daaé is an agreeable employer, she wrote, and I like him so much. The customers are generally kind, good-natured and most generous with tips, and I save as much as I can. The town is very large with well-stocked shops, restaurants and bars, a museum and lending library, two theatres and some fine churches. It is indeed very exciting!

There was also an added attraction that Karolina had not mentioned to Mamma. Not just yet, for it was all so new to her, but she hugged the secret knowledge close to her, and lost herself in her burgeoning dreams of love.

Herr Daaé had a son. His name was Niklas.

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Like his father Niklas Daaé was a handsome man, although rather shy and far more restrained in manner than the exuberant Stefan. He was tall, slim yet muscular, and had inherited that same thick dark hair which, no matter how often he damped it down, curled riotously over his head. His eyes were very blue and his smile beguiled everyone, for it always started in the warmth of his eyes, then his lips would part to display even white teeth above an attractively cleft chin.

Father and son were a good-looking pair, and there were many ladies in the town who would have been highly delighted to be seen on the arm of either one of them. Stefan was a widower of some eight years standing, having lost his dearly loved wife to an acute epidemic of influenza, which had also claimed the lives of three other acquaintances at that awful time. His grief had been profound, so much so that he had taken young Niklas away for several months to live in the wooden cabin he often used for fishing trips. It was set on the shores of a beautiful lake, where they stayed until Stefan felt he could face the world again. The peace and beauty of that solitary idyll had calmed his frenzied misery, and the eternal tranquillity of Nature had given him comfort and the strength to carry on.

On their return home, Stefan gave up his job in the town’s bakery in order to buy and refurbish The Kingfisher Restaurant. He threw himself into the venture with enthusiasm, completing much of the work himself. Then he hired staff and the best chef he could find; within a few weeks of opening, The Kingfisher had become one of the most popular social venues in the town. Stefan had relished the success of his hard work and as the weeks and months passed, had recovered much of his former equilibrium and joy of life. The dear memory of his Agneta, however, was always foremost in his heart and he knew he would not experience again the love he had felt for his wife.

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In all his twenty-two years, Niklas had never once lost his heart to a girl, although he had many friends in the town. He loved his work, adored his father and was happy with his life just as it was, although of course he still missed his mother. Not until lovely young Fröken Karolina Bacht came to work for his father did he ever imagine himself bewitched by a girl, but from that dreamlike moment when he had first been introduced to her, he had fallen head over heels in love. From the shy glances and smiles he received from her, his hopes were raised each time they saw each other that she might return his tender feelings.

Niklas did not work in the restaurant with his father but was a carpenter by trade. From a very young age he had loved the feel and texture of polished wood, silken and smooth beneath his caressing fingers. He was absorbed with his work, in preparing and honing different kinds of wood, and then carving and fashioning furniture, from the simplest wooden chair to an ornately beautiful cabinet. With any upholstery he was ably assisted by Fru Bakker, who helped him choose fabrics and made seat coverings for him.

Niklas Daaé took orders from rich and poor alike, and enjoyed the satisfaction of a good and varied trade but never charging more than people could afford. He also loved to make toys for the local children, who would gather round in his woodyard and watch in fascination as he created so many wonderful playthings with the tools of his trade. The children knew as well that once Herr Niklas had finished work for the day, he would often take out their favourite puppet theatre from the back of the shop and stage a little show for them, making them all laugh at the antics of the tiny wooden stringed toys.

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Karolina discovered that Niklas was also a talented musician who played the violin with great skill and the absolute dedication of a born musician, even though he had never had a lesson and was entirely self-taught.

"My mother was very musical, you see. Perhaps I have inherited her gifts, for certainly I don’t get them from Father!" He laughed, for his father cheerfully owned to all and sundry of being completely tone-deaf. Indeed, he was hard-pressed to even whistle in tune, although full of pride and admiration for his son’s wonderful musicianship.

Karolina thought on this and smiled, for it was very true! Stefan Daaé would happily hum or whistle rather tunelessly as he worked, but it was when he teasingly struck a pose and attempted to sing that all his patrons would pretend to cover their ears from his lamentable efforts.

"Stefan... please! What is that noise! Music, you say? Pshhhht! It’s sounds like a wailing cat - or a dying duck in a thunderstorm!"

The good Herr would carry on, regardless of their funning. The rackety singing continued – "I am happy, therefore I shall sing!" he carolled throatily. "I say to you all that my music is – how shall I put it? - unusual ... and ... and should be treasured! I will not be silenced!" protested the patron, with a grin as large as a canyon.

"Oh, it is such fun to work here!" Karolina thought gleefully. She loved every moment spent in the restaurant, even when she was rushed off her feet. She would go back to her lodgings every night and sleep like the dead. Come the morning and she was up with the lark, humming to herself as she washed, dressed and braided her long blonde hair. For work, she sometimes pinned the plaits neatly around her head, sometimes threading a ribbon through them, so that when she brushed her hair each night before bed, it would fall in thick rippling waves down past her slim waist.

*********************

Today was Tuesday and the sun was streaming in her open window where a playful little breeze lifted the white lace curtains. Karolina ran lightly downstairs to the kitchen where she helped Fru Bakker prepare their breakfast of oatmeal and fruit puree. Her kindly hostess said with a smile that her young lodger seemed as gay as the bright morning.

"Oh yes! Who could not be happy on such a day – the sun is high in a sky of clearest blue, the birds are gaily singing, this coffee tastes like nectar – oh, who could possibly be miserable today!"

"True, my dear, very true." Sipping her coffee, Fru Bakker studied the pretty picture that was the fresh young girl sitting opposite her. Dressed in an embroidered blouse with a ruffled neckline and cuffs which was tucked into a neat dark skirt, her hair a shining halo around her head, clear eyes sparkling with joie de vivre, she was a heart-lifting sight.

"And ... dare I ask if a certain young man comes into this equation?" Fru Bakker asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Karolina flushed rosily. "Oh, Madame, I ... I don’t know what you mean", she stammered. "Really, I don’t - Heavens, is that the time? I must be off now - I will see you this evening! 'Bye-bye!" She took her satchel from the back of the chair, flung a shawl round her shoulders and skipped out the door with a wave of her hand, leaving Fru Bakker smiling to herself as she set about clearing the table. Oh yes indeed, her pretty companion was obviously smitten with young Niklas!

*********************

Arriving at the restaurant, Karolina tied a protective apron over her clothes in order to start work. Herr Daaé had swept and washed the floors, tidied the tables and chairs and wiped down the bar. He greeted his employee, saying how gloriously fresh and alive she appeared - such a lovely sight for his bleary old eyes!

Karolina laughed as she wished him good morning. She was about to go to the large cabinet where crockery and cutlery was stored in order to start laying the tables for lunch when Niklas walked through the door from the family quarters above. Her heart thudded at sight of him. She could do nothing about the blush that suffused her cheeks but try to hide it by turning her head to fiddle with her apron strings.

Watching interestedly as his son suddenly stopped in his tracks with eyes all aglow, Herr Daaé looked on with paternal benevolence as his boy and young Karolina shyly greeted each other. "Here’s a case", he thought, "my quiet young Nik is head over heels in love, and I could not be happier. She is adorable!"

To Stefan’s delight, and that of Karolina’s mother, Evi Bacht, within a few weeks the young couple had become inseparable and very soon declared their love for each other. Niklas asked Karolina to marry him and ecstatically, she agreed. He bought her a sapphire engagement ring because, he touchingly confided, it was the same colour as her eyes.

Those deep blue eyes filled with happy tears as he placed it on her finger.

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Part 2 – Wedding Bells

The regular customers of The Kingfisher Restaurant clubbed together and bought the betrothed pair a plot of land for Niklas to build a house. With the help of their many friends a fine new house took shape, painted the colour of a peach and adorned with wooden cladding into which the young carpenter carved attractive designs. A garden was laid out, young trees planted, shrubberies and a small white gazebo added in which the couple could sit during the warmer months of the year. Niklas made furniture as Karolina busily fashioned cushions, curtains to drape at the windows and a padded quilt for the bed.

Their wedding day dawned, a bright frosty day in late November. Karolina looked ethereally beautiful in a gown of heavy creamy-white satin brocade, trimmed with pearls at the neck of the sculpted bodice and halfway up the long, pointed sleeves. Her hair was simply dressed, parted in the middle and swept up softly in a loose knot with one long curl hanging over her left shoulder, while her short misty veil of cobweb lace was held in place with white flowers nestling in their greenery. She carried a posy of white roses, but with a touch of colour in the two or three rich pink roses given to her by her mother.

The service was held at the Church of St Antoni, which they both attended regularly with their parents. Evi looked on with love and joy - and a good few tears - as her daughter took her marriage vows. Stefan’s heart swelled with pride at sight of his tall young son swearing to love and cherish. Came the wonderful moment they were declared man and wife, Niklas gave his young bride a tender kiss as a collective sigh of pleasure echoed around the little church. It was packed with the townsfolk who had come to wish the young couple well at the start of their married life together.

The newly-weds and their families and friends enjoyed the wedding breakfast held in the hall adjacent to the church, which Evi had decorated with trailing ivy and briar roses. Toasts were drunk, much good food and wine consumed, the bridal cake was cut and then there was music and dancing. The groom was called upon to play for them, which he did willingly, the notes of his violin dipping and soaring melodiously. Then in a charming interlude, he played a piece he had composed especially for his bride and which he had called simply To My Sweet Lina. There was thunderous applause and calls for an encore. Niklas drew his bow across the violin when, to everyone’s surprised delight, his wife went to stand beside him and began to sing.

The room fell silent. The voice that issued from the throat of the young woman was astonishingly pure and clear, holding the listeners in its crystalline thrall. Karolina’s eyes rested on her mother’s beloved face and she sang with all her heart, a song she knew had been a favourite of her darling Papa. Evi listened with pride and happiness as her daughter’s lovely voice enchanted all those present, remembering fondly how Karolina used to love singing with her Papa, and how much her late husband had adored his only child.

As the final notes of the song died away, the room erupted with cries of pleasure and loud applause. For long moments the cheers rang out, rising to a crescendo as Niklas took his bride in his arms and kissed her. Karolina curtsied, Niklas bowed, then she flung back her head and laughed with sheer happiness.

At midnight, tired but contented, the bridal couple wished everyone an affectionate goodnight and left the reception to take the short walk to their new home. Several friends threw rose petals around them and called out good wishes as they accompanied them to their door. A few of the more intoxicated also attempted the walk but most fell by the wayside in a sprawl of flailing arms and legs, to be rescued by laughing friends and dragged back into the warmth of the hall.

The night air was cold and clear, the stars twinkling far above in the blue-black sky. Many loving hours later as the sky lightened to herald the dawn of a new day, Niklas and his bride slept in each other’s arms.

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Part 3 – Love and Marriage

Karolina loved to keep her little house gleaming from top to bottom, greeting visitors with a beaming smile and offers of tea or coffee and her fresh-baked cakes, sometimes taken after a head-spinning glass of schnapps. She still helped her father-in-law in the restaurant, for it was always busy and he welcomed her lively assistance in keeping his customers served.

She was blissfully happy in her marriage, loving her quiet husband with all her heart. To add to her joy, they had helped her mother move into a small cottage nearby. Niklas was only too glad to have his Lina’s Mamma living nearby for he knew how close they were, and so pleased that Evi quickly became a good friend and companion to his own father.

The weeks passed happily as the long winter months melted into Spring when the world seemed to suddenly burst into bloom. Karolina began to spend hours in her little garden, lovingly planting new seedlings and tending her sprouting young fruit trees. She planned to make lots of preserves for her storeroom, and indeed had several plans in mind for her home and garden. Picking a bunch of bright yellow daffodils for the dining table one day, she hummed a little melody.

"I will make my darling husband so proud of me!" she happily sang to the air around her.

Evi visited often for a cup of coffee and a motherly fund of advice for her daughter. Come May, however, and Niklas had even more reason to be glad of his mother-in-law's proximity, for his wife had just told him the wonderful news that they were to have a child!

They had been married for six months when, two mornings ago Lina rose from the breakfast table with a hand to her head, saying she felt a little dizzy. Next moment she had collapsed fainting onto the floor. Alarmed and shaken, Niklas gathered her in his arms, giving a heartfelt sigh of relief as he saw that already she was coming round. Lifting her from the floor, he carried her back upstairs and laid her on the bed, saying that he would fetch the doctor.

"No, darling, I am fine, I promise you", she assured him. "It was only a little momentary giddiness. I probably rushed around too much yesterday evening, for the restaurant was terribly busy and I did not have a chance to eat my supper." She smiled up at him, urging him to go to work for she was very well and would get up shortly.

"Why not go to see Mamma?" Niklas suggested, "Spend a nice morning with her and rest awhile. You have been doing too much recently, my love. Dashing here, there and everywhere. I will tell Papa you cannot work this evening."

"Very well" she replied, giving him a kiss. "I will see you at dinner, my Nik."

Niklas returned her kiss, gathered up his toolbag and set off for work. Karolina fell back on the pillows and hugged herself, laughing and gleeful. She had a very good idea why she had swooned, and could not wait to ask Mamma if this was a sign of impending motherhood!

On the way back from her mother’s house, Karolina called into the doctor’s surgery and told him she thought she might be with child. After examining the young woman, a little breathless with excited anticipation, Dr Lundgren gave a broad smile and confirmed her suspicions. She was two months into her pregnancy and the child could be expected sometime in late December, perhaps even on Juldagen!

Karolina was overjoyed, especially at thought of a Christmas Day baby, and was about to run back to tell her mother when she stopped, thinking that the first person to know should be her husband. She would tell Mamma tomorrow that her suspicions had been absolutely right and had been confirmed by the good doctor.

Niklas was jubilant, of course. Relieved beyond measure that her fainting fit was nothing more than a symptom of early pregnancy, he picked her up by her still slender waist and swung her round, laughing and crying at the same time.

"We are having a baby!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "We are having a BABY!"

He smothered her with kisses, beside himself with joy and delight. Karolina laughed at his exuberance.

"Soon you will be Papa Daaé, my darling – imagine! And Stefan and Mamma will be grandparents! You will make a beautiful crib for our little one, and oh.... I am so happy!"

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Part 4 – Papa Daaé

Summer passed into Autumn, the long sunny days dwindling into the misty mornings of September and October, the greens of the surrounding trees and bushes turning to golden yellows and reds before the leaves finally withered and curled, falling to the ground to be crunched crisply underfoot come November. The young Daaés celebrated the first anniversary of their wedding with a candlelit dinner, when Niklas gave his wife dainty ormolu clock and a pair of beautiful decorative combs for her hair, while she presented him a new set of tortoiseshell-backed brushes.

Apart from a few instances when she had felt rather faint and on occasion a little breathless, Karolina was in blooming health, spending as much time out of doors as she could, walking in the parks with Mamma or a friend, or tending her pretty garden. Reassured by his wife that the giddy spells were often experienced at such times, Niklas was not unduly alarmed and understood that there were many little irregularities of health that happened to expectant ladies and were accepted as part of a pregnancy.

During the long dark evenings Karolina sat by the fire and worked on her baby’s layette, sewing tiny garments and knitting lacy, delicate shawls and warm cot blankets of pastel-coloured wools. Her mother was also engaged in the same enjoyable tasks, looking forward immensely to the birth of her first grandchild.

At The Kingfisher, his loyal customers asked Herr Daaé regularly about the health of his daughter-in-law, some of whom would gently rib him by remarking on how handsome and elegant a grandfather he would be! Stefan would puff out his chest and take a grinning bow, then ask slyly if anyone would like to hear him sing the lullaby with which he planned to serenade his new grandchild.

"No thank you, old friend!" was the jesting reply, "and do not sing to the baby, or you will give the poor little thing a bad case of colic!" Stefan was given many little gifts for the coming baby, for everyone was very fond of Niklas and his lovely young wife.

Life continued happily for Niklas and his Lina as they eagerly awaited the birth of their child until one morning, six weeks or so before the baby was due to be born, something happened which again caused Niklas to be concerned for his wife’s health.

Karolina had risen from their bed in order to dress and prepare breakfast when she suddenly felt very unwell. There was a strange fluttering sensation in her chest and her head seemed to be stuffed with thick wool. The room became overly hot and airless as nausea rose in her throat.

Dizziness enveloped her as her breath came in rapid, shallow gasps. She fell back onto the bed in a state of semi-consciousness. It was by good fortune that her husband had then returned to the bedroom from the kitchen downstairs where he had been loading logs into the stove. The weather had turned very cold, with a hint of snow in the air. Blowing on his chilled hands, he was about to speak when he saw that his wife was half-lying across the bed, her arms flung out above her dreadfully pale face.

"Lina!" He cried out in alarm, running to the bedside. "Lina ... my love! What is wrong?"

He lifted her fully onto the bed, frantically trying to revive her by rubbing her hands, then opening the window a little to give her some air. She felt so hot to his touch, but soon a gentle wisp of the pure, cold air drifted towards them. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and she whispered a request for some water. Still holding her with one arm around her shoulders, Niklas managed to pour some water into the glass from the jug that always stood on her bedside table, holding it to her lips as she sipped gratefully.

When she had finished, Niklas put her gently back on the pillows, brushing her tangled hair away from her face that thankfully had regained some of its colour. He covered her with the quilt and went into the small bathroom, where he dipped her facecloth into warm water to tenderly wipe her face and hands. As he dried them, he said he would ask their neighbour to come and sit with her whilst he ran to get Dr Lundgren. She nodded and smiled, then closed her eyes and seemed to fall into a natural sleep. He closed the window for the air was far too cold to blow around her, even though she had felt so hot. He touched her forehead, relieved to find that it felt quite normal.

An hour later, Dr Lundgren came downstairs to where Niklas was anxiously awaiting him.

"Is she better, Sven? Will she be all right now?"

His voice trembled slightly. The doctor regarded the young man sympathetically over the top of his spectacles and rested a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"Don’t worry, Nik. Karolina will be fine, but I’m afraid she must rest from now until the birth is due. By that I mean she must stay in bed, or failing that, stay as immobile as possible on the sofa should she wish to leave the bedroom. You see, there is a very slight irregularity in her heartbeat, but with complete rest and care, all should be well and she will have a strong, healthy baby."

Dr Lundgren spoke in his calm way to the young man, telling him exactly what his diagnosis entailed.

"Does ... does this mean that there is something wrong with Lina’s heart?" her husband stammered in fear.

"No, I believe her heart to be quite sound and that it is her condition which has perhaps triggered this slight case of arrhythmia. Pregnancy is a normal, natural process but sometimes the expectant mother can suffer from discomfort in many ways. Terrible nausea, for instance. Attacks of migraine headaches, indigestion or heartburn, exhausted fatigue and so on. Some even experience the desire to eat strangely – I have heard of ladies who have yearned to eat coal, or earth, or shoe polish."

The doctor smiled at the expression of disbelief on the young man’s face, recalling how one of his patients actually started to eat a bar of the green soap used by her maid to do the laundry. Happily, the bemused maid and her concerned husband dissuaded her from making further inroads into the soap.

Striving to reassure Niklas, he spoke quite cheerfully in his moderate way.

"Such conditions are not generally severe and the pregnancy progresses to a normal outcome. However, I have to say that there are those who suffer from rather more serious disorders which can be worsened through pregnancy, although I do not believe Karolina’s momentary breathlessness and palpitations are due to a serious heart problem."

"I can only pray that you are right, Sven. Lina is always so lively and joyous, loving the fresh air and outdoors, dancing around so full of health and energy."

"Of course. She is young and vigorous, but I want to be on the safe side and recommend that she has definite bed rest for the next few weeks whilst I monitor her condition very carefully. I’m sure she will want to do what is best for the baby, for she is a sensible girl."

"Sven, we will do exactly as you say," vowed Niklas. "Her Mamma will come and stay with us and see that Lina complies with all you ask. Between us, we will look after my darling girl. I know how she longs to be a mother and to hold her baby in her arms."

Dr Lundgren patted Niklas on the shoulder. "Fine. An excellent idea. Now remember, please call on me at any time of day or night if you are at all worried, Nik. Meanwhile, I have left her feeling quite comfortable and she is waiting to see you, so off you go to her side, and I will see myself out."

The doctor smiled, replacing his hat on his greying hair as he took his medical bag from the table and bade the young man a cheery goodbye.

Niklas flew up the stairs to their bedroom, relieved to see Karolina sitting up in bed awaiting him with a loving smile. She assured him that she was quite well and that she was sure the quivering sensation in her chest was merely caused by the baby leaping around inside her!

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Part 5 – Little Angel

Fru Bacht came to stay with the Daaés that very day. She made quite certain her daughter obeyed the doctor’s instructions in taking complete rest and suspending any kind of effort for the remainder of her pregnancy. Karolina was a little disappointed at having to give up her daily routine, but at least she could remain occupied by sewing several more little garments for her child. Mamma allowed her to come downstairs so long as she stayed on the comfortable couch with her feet up, a light blanket covering her lower half. Time passed pleasantly in Mamma’s care with no further ado, and Karolina could also appreciate the fact that Mamma always ensured her darling Nik came home to a hot bath and good dinner.

Christmas was just a week away and the birth was imminent. Evi and Niklas hung decorations around the room and Niklas brought home a fir tree, which Evi dressed with twinkling stars and strings of silver tinsel. Karolina made a silver angel with golden wings to place at the very top of the tree.

Evi arranged a dear little crib scene that Niklas had crafted with loving care, placing it on a low table alongside the couch where her daughter lay. Karolina would often look at the tiny figure of the Christ Child in the miniature wooden crib and marvel at her darling husband’s skills. She thought of her own baby so soon to be born, and was content.

Snow was gently falling in delicately patterned flakes when one week later, at twenty minutes past midnight on Christmas Day 1861, a daughter was born to Karolina and Niklas Daaé.

They named the child for the Lord’s birthday by calling her Christine.

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It had been a long labour, as is often the case with a first baby, but the midwife and Dr Lundgren had been in attendance from the beginning. The doctor monitored Karolina’s condition and the progress of the baby with great care, for in spite of his assurances to Niklas, there was some slight anxiety regarding the occasional bout of rapid heartbeat. Fru Morgens suggested it was because the young mother was highly excited, but happily all went well and the midwife ensured that Karolina was kept as comfortable as possible during her labour.

At first, Niklas sat by Karolina’s side, holding her hand and giving her comfort with his love, but then the doctor gently ordered him out of the room as the time grew near for the birth. Niklas kissed his wife and told her that he loved her with his life. She smiled as best she could through the severity of the pain that was filling her world, and gave herself wholly to the doctor’s ministrations.

Niklas sat with Mamma downstairs, but was forever jumping up and pacing about the room, worrying and fretting at the long wait. His nerves were so terribly on edge that he was unable to eat, although he gulped down several cups of coffee. Mamma sat placidly sewing, outwardly quite calm although her mind was churning restlessly and her ears straining for any kind of sound.

She tried to relieve the expectant father’s worries by going upstairs every so often and reporting back to him on Karolina’s progress. As the evening drew into night she dozed off in her chair while Niklas stood by the fire, staring down into the flames. He prayed with all his soul for the safe deliverance of his beloved wife. Outside, the snow was drifting silently down from a moonlit sky, turning the world to an ethereal pageant of white and silver.

After what seemed an eternity to the anxious young man, at last he heard the sound for which he had so long been awaiting - the first wailing little cries of a newly born infant! He woke Evi, almost crushing her fingers in his excitement, and tore out of the room.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he knocked at the bedroom door while holding on to the wall, for he was shaking from head to foot. Fru Morgens answered his knock and ushered him in, beaming from ear to ear as she tucked a strand of hair back underneath her spotless linen cap. Dr Lundgren was drying his hands on a towel, looking very pleased with his patient, for the new young mother was sitting propped up by several pillows looking quite radiant. Karolina beckoned eagerly to her husband as he crossed the room to her side, and gave a little joyful laugh as she presented their daughter to him.

The doctor clapped Niklas on the shoulder and offered his congratulations, whilst the midwife looked on fondly at the little tableau before her of the proud young parents with their new baby. The tiny infant, wrapped in a white shawl, was lying peacefully in her mother's arms.

"Nik, oh my darling! See our little girl! Oh Nik, we have the most beautiful Christmas gift in the world!"

Niklas realised he had been holding his breath as he tip-toed forward, and was able to release it on one long, ecstatic sigh as he saw his wife’s serenely happy face, her relaxed air of well-being. He bent forward to kiss her, then looked at his tiny daughter for the first time … and lost his heart completely.

********************

Little Fröken Christine Madelina Daaé proved to be a contented baby, healthy and rosy-cheeked as she grew prettier with each day that passed. Her eyes were so dark a blue as to be almost violet and her thatch of dark curls was like that of her father, who loved to cradle her head in his hands and stroke the soft curls.

Her parents were besotted with her, as indeed were her two grandparents. Niklas referred to Christine as his little angel, while her grandparents called her their darling, and every time Karolina took her baby out for a walk, people would stop her so they could peep into the bassinet and coo at the enchanting cherub within. The infant would blow bubbles and gurgle, give a wide toothless grin or a series of endearing chuckles.

The child thrived and her mother bloomed with a maternal tenderness, which enhanced her fair features to that of serene beauty. She loved to dress her baby girl in the little lacy garments so carefully sewn with her tiny stitching, and the delicate woollen jackets that Evi had knitted. By the time the long days of summer came to an end the baby was crawling, and one of her favourite tricks was in trying to keep up with Benny, their tabby cat. He was a docile animal who patiently bore the baby’s inquisitive little hands in his fur.

Soon, Christine was able to pull herself upright and stagger about on her adorably chubby little legs, and when she saw her Papa walk through the door after his day’s work, she would totter towards him as fast as she could. Beaming with delight, Niklas would swoop her up in his arms and swing her around, loving the sound of that chuckling baby laughter.

Whenever Niklas played his violin and Karolina sat at the piano to accompany him, or perhaps to sing as she played, the baby would sit at their feet looking absolutely fascinated. Her sweet face was aglow as she clapped her tiny hands and burbled rapturously. Nik was elated by the discovery of Christine's fascination with music and expressed the opinion that their little angel was born to sing. Among the several toys he made for her was a miniature harp with which she spent many absorbed hours plucking at the strings.

Christine loved all her toys and soon had a large collection. Evi fashioned a rag doll for her, which she dragged around everywhere, naming it "Sisi" in her baby language.

********************

Part 6 – Sorrows

Another contented family year passed. Little Christine was almost two years old when Karolina joyfully discovered that she was expecting another child.

She hoped for a boy this time - a brother for Christine and a son for her beloved Niklas. The new baby was due in the month of June so plans were made to furnish the third upstairs room as a pretty bedroom for Christine, and the coming baby would then occupy the nursery next to the main bedroom. Karolina was exhilarated, telling her small daughter that she would soon have a dear brother or sister.

The weeks and months passed and it was Christmas once more, when Christine had her birthday party surrounded by the Christmas decorations. She had two lots of presents, those for her birthday and those as Christmas gifts. The family attended the church service on Juldagen, when many of their friends gave Christine yet more exciting parcels, and she was kissed and hugged many times.

Karolina was in her third month of pregnancy, blissfully happy and feeling so well when the first ominous sign occurred that all was not well, raising much concern among the members of her family. During the week of the New Year celebrations, she suffered another fainting fit brought about by a suddenly accelerated heartbeat. Fortunately, her mother was present and managed to half-carry her to her bed, sending immediately for Dr Lundgren by way of a passing neighbour in the street outside.

At the time of his arrival Karolina was fully conscious, though extremely pale and shaken. The doctor examined her thoroughly as Evi stood at the foot of the bed, having earlier put Christine down for her afternoon nap. Dr Lundgren put away his stethoscope and smiled at Karolina, but as he took hold of her hands, the expression on his face was quite grave.

"My dear," he said in his fatherly way, "not for the world would I wish to alarm you, but again I’m afraid it is a question of bed rest for you, at least until these first vulnerable months are safely by. Only then may we see if the state of your health will allow you to resume your normal daily life."

The doctor paused for a moment to glance up at Evi, whose concerned eyes met his in a look of understanding. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement and carried on speaking to Karolina.

"Karolina, I must warn you that if I think it best you stay prone for the full term of your pregnancy, then I’m afraid that is what must be." The doctor pressed her slim fingers reassuringly.

"Be that as it may, however, I do not wish to distress you unduly and I can tell you that the baby is fine and should not be affected by your condition".

Karolina nodded, unable to speak as she tried to blink away the tears gathering in her eyes.

"Try not to worry, little one. You have those around you with your best interests at heart and who will take care of you. Your Mamma will be here during the day to help look after you and little Christine."

Dr Lundgren smiled as Evi vigorously nodded her head in accord. "And of course Nik will be with you at all other times, so please – I beg you – don’t worry and fret unnecessarily."

Karolina looked disconsolate as the doctor’s words sank in, but managed a smile that won his approval.

"Good girl! The time will soon pass and God willing, you will have a fine, healthy child."

Patting her hand in his kindly manner, Dr Lundgren bade her good day. Nonetheless, he had a worried little frown on his brow as downstairs in the drawing room, he spoke to Fru Bacht.

"Truth to tell, Evi, I am rather unhappy about these palpitations, although my young patient is perfectly healthy in every other way."

"Sven, I promise I will ensure my daughter does as you say", Evi said quietly, "but I am afraid for her, a little. You see, my husband had a heart condition that eventually... killed him." Her expression was bleak as she stumbled on the last two words.

"No ... no, you must not think that, my dear", the doctor protested. "Your husband worked much too hard and had many business worries. I remember you told me he was facing bankruptcy when he began to have severe chest pains and his breathing took on a harsh rasping quality. That is indeed an indication of malfunction of the heart. He was a man in his fifties, terribly worried about his business and in trying to hide all that from you, his heart was overwhelmed by stress and strain, thereby causing his apoplexy."

Dr Lundgren took hold of Evi’s hand and pressed it gently within his warm fingers before letting it go. He put away his medical accoutrements in the black leather case.

"I believe the two cases are very different, Evi. It is not uncommon for expectant mothers to experience faintness, as you know. Her father's system was ageing and laboured under intense pressure, when the struggle became too much for his heart to bear. Karolina has youth on her side, and her rapid heartbeat could simply be from nervous excitement, for she is quite highly-strung despite her friendly confidence."

"You are right, Sven. Karolina is like a young colt, so full of energy, taking life at a gallop, yet often seemingly unable to quieten down once in the grip of this nervous excitement," her mother agreed.

The doctor nodded, frowning slightly. He took his leave of Evi, saying he would come back next day to check on his young patient. Evi went back upstairs to comfort her daughter with words of loving encouragement.

Two weeks passed as Karolina lay helplessly in bed whilst Evi cared for Christine. The little girl would climb carefully onto the bed to sit beside her mother and play quietly with her dolls, sometimes cuddling closer to gently pat and stroke Karolina's pale cheeks.

But it was not to be, for all too soon the doctor’s disquiet was sadly realised when late one evening, Karolina suffered a miscarriage. She was heartbroken and wept endlessly on her husband’s shoulder for their lost child.

"It is my fault – I blame myself, my stupid inability to carry our child safely. Oh Nik, my love, I have failed you. Forgive me." She sobbed desolately, her tears streaming down her wan face. Her wretchedness was unbearably poignant to her husband.

"Sweetheart, there is nothing to forgive. Don't - don't - blame yourself, I beg you."

Niklas held her close, trying to ease her despair with his love and devotion. He insisted that there must have been a simple cause for their tragedy, whether it was medical or otherwise.

"You mustn't reproach yourself, my darling. You are not at fault - no, I will not let you say so! The Good Lord has taken our baby into his loving care, for He has His reasons - we both know that. But - He will bless us with more children, I am certain of that. We are young and the years ahead will give us more than enough time to extend our family."

Niklas tenderly fingered the damp hair away from Karolina’s tearful face. He kissed her swollen eyelids, and on tasting those tears such a great swell of love consumed him that he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his embrace and never let her go.

She opened her eyes and smiled tremulously, trying to swallow her grief as she tightened her hold on him.

"You are right, my love", she whispered. "We will pray for more children, every day we will pray, but even if ... if it does not happen, even if I cannot have ... more, we have our beloved little Christine, and we are so blessed, are we not?"

********************

Part 7 – Little Swedish Nightingale

Their pretty child was growing fast, delighting all those who came in contact with her. She had inherited her father’s dark curls and his rather shy demeanour, but she had her mother’s deep blue eyes and sunny disposition, and such endearing ways that everyone adored her. As for her doting grandfather, she could twist him around her small fingers. Stefan loved to have her with him in The Kingfisher, watching with a wide grin as she attempted to help polish the tables. His lunchtime customers gave her pennies to save in her moneybox, or little gifts such as a picture book or ribbons for her hair.

On her fourth birthday, Stefan gave her a music box made from gleaming black enamel and colourfully decorated with painted butterflies. The little girl was thrilled, and when she had opened the lid to listen to the tinkling tune, something rather startling and wonderful happened. She opened her rosebud mouth and sang to the music, revealing an astonishingly clear and musically accurate singing voice. Stefan was enchanted, for it was obvious that she had inherited her father’s musicality and her mother’s crystal tones, yet in a child so young her singing voice was quite extraordinary.

When her parents came to collect her, Stefan bade the little girl sing for Mamma and Papa along with the music box, as she had done earlier. She clapped her hands with glee as she opened the lid, and as the familiar tune began to play she sang with the music. Niklas and Karolina were overwhelmed, yet not completely surprised, for their daughter seemed to have the gift of music which was perfectly natural as was his own innate musicality, that instinctive need to express this inner music either with an instrument or with the voice. Karolina’s own voice was sweet and true. It was no wonder their child should be so musically gifted.

From that day, Niklas referred to her as his little Swedish Nightingale. He began to teach her all that he knew of music, whilst Karolina sang with her as she played their old piano. Christine was so eager to learn that both her parents felt sure she was destined to be a great singer. Every day the little girl would practice her notes on the piano and sing to the melodies. She also loved to dance, light as a fairy on her feet as she pointed her toes gracefully and pirouetted around the room.

Niklas watched his beautiful child with pride, telling his wife that when she was a little older, their daughter should have the best singing lessons and tutor they could afford.

********************

Part 8 – Angels

Karolina adored her dainty little daughter and was so happy in her marriage that she thanked God every day for her blessings.

What she did hide, however, was her desperate yearning for another child. Every day she prayed, whether in the privacy of her bedchamber or in a pew at St Antoni, and in those prayers she asked for the health and strength to bear another child. She asked further for guidance, for the strange sensations in her chest had begun to occur rather too often. Her heart would race in such a way that it caused her to feel faint and light-headed, so much so that she would have to stop whatever she was doing, sit down and remain quite still until she recovered her equilibrium.

She tried to conceal the symptoms from her loved ones as best she could, although little Christine had once told her Daddy that Mamma "fell down on the floor and went to sleep".

Karolina had laughed away the sudden anxiety on her husband’s face, telling him that she had only been playing a game with their daughter. When Niklas later gently questioned his child about Mamma on the floor, Christine had replied, "Mamma fell down like this, Daddy." The little girl imitated by bending her knees and keeling over onto her back.

"She was fast asleep on the floor, but a nice angel came and touched her, and she got up and was all awaked again."

"An angel, poppet?" Niklas queried with a little smile as he pulled her upright and into his arms.

"Yes Daddy, a beautiful angel with golden hair and shiny big wings. He floated down through the ceiling and made Mamma better again", Christine told her father as she played with his hair. "Do you suppose it was the Angel of Music, Daddy?" asked the child.

"I ... I cannot be sure, Christine. Did you really see ... an angel?"

"Yes Daddy. He was all bright and shimmery, like the sun, but he didn’t have a harp or sing with a lovely voice, so p’raps it wasn’t the Angel of Music. P’raps it was an ordinary angel, like I am an ordinary girl, Daddy. P’raps they have ordinary angels in Heaven who don’t sing, just do other things, like ... like cook God’s dinner or dust His house."

Niklas smiled lovingly at her innocent logic. "I am sure they are just as important as the higher celestial beings, darling, such as the Angel of Music." He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and hugged her close.

"I think … I think you probably saw Mamma’s guardian angel, Christine."

*******************

During the summer following Christine’s fifth birthday, her parents learned that they could expect another child to be born in the following February. Once more Karolina was ecstatic in hoping that she could give her husband a son. Once more she miscarried the child after three months and was ordered to bed in a state of complete despair by Dr Lundgren, who ordered her to stay there until he was satisfied she had regained her strength. He prescribed a sleeping draught to help her through those first long nights of devastated misery.

Truth to tell, the good doctor was increasingly worried about Karolina, and had to admit that her heart was not as sound as it should be. Although her condition was not severe, if left untreated it might in time impair her general health and mobility. He took Niklas to one side and quietly expressed his concerns

"Nik, I think it is time that a doctor who specialises in diseases of the heart should examine Karolina. I cannot allow her health to be further impaired and urge you not to let her consider another pregnancy before she is seen by an expert in these matters."

This statement horrified Niklas. Shaken to the very core of his being, he asked Dr Lundgren how ill she really was, remembering how she had recently tried to laugh off his concerns about her bouts of dizziness.

"All females faint, my love!" she had stated gaily. "It is something we all experience during our ... our fertile years, and sometimes because of silly fashions! We females sometimes bring it upon ourselves with our idiotic corsets and other uncomfortably tight garments!" She’d laughed, and pulled at her wide embroidered belt as indication.

"But your belt is tied loosely and you do not wear corsets, my love", protested her husband with some concern, "nor have you for as long as we have been married."

"No", she said quietly, looking down at her hands in order to hide her all-too-expressive eyes. She twisted her wedding rings for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet his once again.

"You must not worry, darling. I’m fine, truly I am. There’s nothing wrong with me."

She took a deep breath and took his hands in hers.

"Mamma told me that when I was a very young child, I was taken ill with a high fever which lasted for days. She said they … feared for my life at one point, but I recovered, although it left me weak and helpless for long weeks afterwards. Perhaps it was that illness which has affected my heart a little ... oh, just a little."

She flung her arms around his neck and held him tightly. "Truly, my Nik, I feel very well."

In her head she asked God to forgive the untruth while reaching up to kiss her husband. They held each other tightly, and Niklas in his turn prayed that the dear falsehood with which she had just tried to reassure him would indeed become the reality.

Dr Lundgren had recommended a renowned heart specialist named Herr Konstantin to the young couple, and arranged an appointment for them to consult him at his clinic in Uppsala. Leaving Christine in the care of Evi, the Daaés set forth in their small carriage for the city. As they drew up in front of the imposing façade of the house, Niklas saw the brass plaque on the wall next to the big double doors which read "August Konstantin – Physician".

He noted the impressive number of official letters behind that name which indicated the fact that Herr Konstantin was a very great man in the field of medicine. Niklas felt as though a cold hand had taken a tight grip of his insides, causing him to shiver, but he helped his wife down from the carriage and gave over the equipage to a stable lad whilst they went inside for the appointment.

Two hours later they were on the journey home. Niklas wrapped a rug round Karolina’s knees as she lay back against the leather squabs. He tried to concentrate on steering the carriage safely through the city streets and onto the road back home, but his mind was in turmoil.

"A vein which leads from the lungs to the heart ... weakened by a childhood illness ... advisable not to have another pregnancy ... more pressure on the heart could be critical to the patient’s future well-being ... could possibly involve surgery ..."

Herr Konstantin had been so kind. They had sat facing him across his desk, both pale and shocked by what he told them following his examination of Karolina. He had prescribed some medication should the attacks become more frequent, but he emphasised that with care and attention to her health, there was no reason why she should not live a long and happy life.

The consultant had shown much compassion when he advised them strongly against having more children, but Karolina had not been able to control her feelings and had wept inconsolably. Herr Konstantin had ordered a tray of coffee to be brought to his office and left them alone together until his young patient felt able to compose herself for the journey home.

Christine was sound asleep in bed when they reached home, but Evi was awaiting them with a meal of cold meat, salad and bread. One look at her daughter’s face told her that she must expect to hear something of an upsetting nature. She guided Karolina to a chair and sat her gently down on it before handing her a cup of hot tea. Karolina’s fingers shook as she sipped the welcoming drink, but a little colour gradually returned to her cheeks as she drank. A little later, she was able to tell her mother about the doctor’s diagnosis. The three of them sat in quiet discussion until Niklas left them for a moment in order to open the door to his father and usher him in. Stefan was told the news and they talked composedly together until it was time for Karolina to go to bed.

********************

Part 9 – Heart’s Desire

Two years passed by in perfect tranquillity. Although the dearest wish of her heart was to have another child, Karolina had resigned herself to the fact that she would have no more children, and therefore devoted herself to her little daughter and her adored husband. Dr Lundgren had prescribed the necessary medication for her condition on the advice of the respected consultant, so whenever she felt faintness overcome her as a result of a lapse in the rhythm of her heartbeat, she was able to take the required medicinal draught followed by complete rest. In this way, she kept fit and reasonably healthy.

Christine was growing into beautiful young girlhood. At nearly nine years old, she was a slender, graceful child with flawless skin and a cloud of dark brown hair, which hung in shining curls down to her waist. Her great blue eyes held the soft depth and colour of woodland pansies. She attended the small local school, which had been started some ten years ago by two spinster sisters who had been willed some money by an uncle. The sisters had decided to use the money to set up a school and take in about twenty local children. It had been a very successful venture and one that the town looked on with pride.

Christine loved school and was a diligent, bright and popular pupil, although still rather shy. She loved music best of all, and looked forward eagerly to her music lessons with Fröken Engkvist, her favourite teacher and one who had long since recognised that little Christine Daaé was an exceptionally talented child with the gift of a potentially superb singing voice.

Christine cared for her mother with a maturity far beyond her young age. Months ago, Niklas had gently told his daughter that Mamma was not as well as she once was, and they must all take very good care of her. The child listened with big, solemn eyes as her father explained about Mamma’s heart and the fact that sometimes she had to rest and do nothing until she felt better. Christine had cried a little, fearing that her adored mother might die, but Papa had cuddled her close and told her that as long as Mamma rested and took her medicine when her naughty heart misbehaved, then all would be well.

Christine had heaved a big sigh of relief and promised Daddy that she would look after Mamma when he was at work and she was home from school. Of course, Grandmama Evi came every day to visit Mamma and their kind neighbours, the Johansens, were always at hand, having been made aware of the circumstances by Niklas.

********************

One day Christine was playing in the garden with Benny. The cat was now a very old gentleman but one of her dearest companions and she adored him. She was on her own because several of her friends had succumbed to a mild illness that had spread rapidly throughout the school, culminating in an itchy rash of tiny red spots and a dry, hoarse cough. Because of her mother's delicate health Christine had been kept away from her friends in order to avoid passing on the infection. She played quite happily on her own with a sleepy Benny as her audience. She danced for him, sang a little song and recited a poem or two. He blinked his yellow eyes several times in approval, then yawned, stretched and turned around two or three times before settling once again with his paws tucked neatly underneath him, purring in a highly contented fashion.

Christine swept him a curtsey, holding up the hem of her daisy-patterned blue dress and white cotton petticoat as she pointed a dainty foot. The sound of someone clapping in enthusiastic applause came from above her and looking up, she saw Mamma’s face at the open window. She turned and curtsied to Mamma, then blew her several kisses. Mamma smiled and returned the kisses, but a sudden rush of tears pricked her eyes as she looked down on her pretty daughter. Propped up by several cushions, she reclined on the chaise-longue which Niklas had placed directly under the window of their bedroom. In this way she could comfortably look out at the flower-filled garden during those times of enforced rest.

Christine waved her hand, then gathered up the soft furry bulk of the cat to her chest and waved his paw. Mamma laughed gaily and blew another kiss … and it was at that very moment when Christine saw a shimmering light appear round her mother. Holding the cat close in her arms, she watched with great, wondering eyes as a shape materialised from the light.

An angel stood beside her mother, radiant in his beauty and tenderness.

The angel reached out a white-clad arm and gently touched her mother's soft blonde hair. Christine saw Mamma smile, her face illuminated with a lovely serenity as she lay back against the cushions and closed her eyes in sleep. The angel raised both hands in a gesture of loving reassurance to the silently watching child. As the light slowly dimmed around him his lips parted in a smile of great sweetness, and then he was no more.

One month later from that day Karolina joyfully told her husband that she was to have a child.

His initial reaction was to gasp in fear and disbelief.

"Karolina, it cannot be! We have taken such care … to keep you safe. I can't let you go through with it … the risk to your health … oh my darling, this is not possible."

"Hush, my love." The look of radiant composure on his wife’s face momentarily stilled his protestations of alarm.

"I shall give you a son, my darling. I am quite well, and this time I shall bear a strong, healthy child."

She kissed him tenderly, serene and beautiful in the knowledge of a new life within her. They held each other tightly. Niklas buried his face in her neck, closed his eyes and silently mouthed a heartfelt prayer, a desperate plea to God to keep her well, keep her safe. Never before in the whole of his life had he prayed with such fervour in imploring the Lord for guidance.

Karolina smiled blissfully in her husband's embrace. She would have this baby, a strong and healthy boy to make their little family complete. She would take the greatest care of herself and not let her silly heart run astray.

She glowed with happiness. At last she would realise her heart’s desire.

********************

The time that followed was of peaceful anticipation, for Karolina’s pregnancy progressed well and without the tragic problems of the last two. She suffered no more fainting fits or those frightening palpitations, and obeyed her doctor’s strict instructions for complete bed rest. Evi ensured that her daughter did nothing that would harm her health or that of the coming child, and took pleasure in caring for Karolina as her shape changed and the bulk of the baby grew with each passing month.

Christine loved to help Grandmama look after her Mamma. Under Evi’s watchful eye she was allowed to measure out a spoonful of medicine and hold it to Mamma’s lips to drink. Karolina would pretend it was horrible and pull a face as she swallowed, causing Christine’s enchanting gurgle of laughter to fill the room. The little girl would tuck a light blanket around her mother as she lay on her chaise-longue by the window, then stand back to admire the pretty picture of her Mamma as she reclined on her elegant chaise of green brocade. Indeed, so taken was she with the chaise that she wished she could have one in her own bedroom.

Mamma reached for her hand and smilingly promised to ask Papa if he would make another chaise-longue especially for Christine, and the child’s eyes lit with sparkling delight.

"Oh will you? Thank you, Mamma! I should love to have one just like yours, for it is so pretty and I shall look like a gracious, elegant lady! Now, what colour shall we choose? Perhaps pink, like strawberries, or maybe yellow, or ... or blue or - I know – crimson! Rich, shiny crimson like those lovely fat cherries in the garden. What do you think of that?"

Christine chattered on excitedly as Karolina and Evi looked fondly at her animated little face.

"I’m sure you will have elegant and gracious dreams if you fall asleep on your chaise-longue, darling," Evi teased. "Perhaps of a handsome and charming prince, or a knight in shining armour riding a magnificent white horse. Perhaps a bold, fearless and fair champion will rescue you from a ... dragon, or an ogre ... or a monster with three eyes in its terrible face."

She laughed at Christine's changing expressions as her big violet eyes mirrored each emotion. Gazing at her granddaughter’s appealing features, Evi caught her breath. The child’s heart was openly displayed in those eyes. If and when she ever falls in love, she will commit that heart with every ounce of her being.

Lost in thought, Christine gazed pensively into the middle distance.

"I do have lots of dreams, Grandmama", she confided after a moment or two.

"Do you, my love? I hope they are all very pleasant – no nasty nightmares," replied Evi.

"Sometimes they are a bit strange and so muddled that I cannot ever remember them. But I do have a dream that is lovely, Grandmama. Remember I told you about the man all dressed in black, Mamma? I often dream about him."

"Oh, you have had many of the same dreams, dear?", asked Evi.

"Yes, I dream often of a shadow man. He - the shadow - is very tall, like Daddy. He is dressed all in black, and wears a long cloak and a big hat. He seems to be so sad, Grandmama. So sad and lonely, and always he covers his face with his arms, like this." Christine held her crossed arms raised in front of her face.

"Is he someone of whom you read in your books of fairy stories, Christine? Perhaps a character has remained in your mind," suggested her grandmother.

"No Granny. He just ... appeared in a dream one night. And Granny ... he sings to me. He turns his face away so that I cannot see him, but he sings such beautiful music. His voice is like ... like an angel’s voice. But oh, he is so sad that I have a little cry, Grandmama." Christine’s deep blue eyes shimmered for a moment. "I always want to step into my dream and beg him not to be sad. I do so wish I could dream that he was happy, I really, really do."

Once again the thought took hold of Evi's mind that one day, this beautiful granddaughter of hers would meet a man and love him to the exclusion of all others. She could only hope this mystical being would return that love with all his heart.

********************

Niklas came in from a good day’s work, for he had a full order book and was busy from dawn to dusk. He washed his hands and face at the cold water pump in the garden, promising himself a hot bath later. Stripping off his overalls, he bounded upstairs to greet his wife as she lay by the open window. Christine had been singing to her and she was still caught up in the spell of her daughter’s lovely voice. Such a wondrous voice in one so young, and Karolina was both proud and grateful for her daughter’s gift of music.

Karolina held out a welcoming hand, giving her husband a loving smile as he trod softly across the carpet. Niklas took it in his own warm clasp, feeling the fragile bones of her fingers and the delicate slenderness of her wrist. Stark fear swept through him and once again he was held in the grip of a sudden terrible foreboding.

He could not seem to banish these feelings, and yet she looked well. Her cheeks held a pretty colour and her eyes were clear as a mountain stream. Her fair hair was brushed away from her face and held by a green ribbon at the nape of her neck. Her other hand was lying on her swollen belly, for she delighted in the vigorous kick of their child beneath the loose gown she wore for comfort.

Yes, she looked radiantly well, and yet ... and yet there was such an air of fragility about her, a shadowed, haunting quality about her eyes, despite their apparent liveliness. However, she greeted her husband with that wide sparkling smile and reached up for his kiss as he bent over her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in his own special smell - that of his own masculinity mixed with wood varnish and pipe tobacco.

"Hello, my love," she glinted up at him mischievously, "you look so handsome in your blue shirt! Give me another woody kiss before you have a bath!".

His heart turned over. She had so willingly accepted the long months of immobility for the sake of this child. Always so cheerful, so resolute in her fate. She looked angelically beautiful in her approaching motherhood, serene and happy in the knowledge that she was to give him another child. Her hand was warm in his, her breath sweet upon his face, her hair like a cascade of golden wheat over one shoulder, yet still he could not rid himself of that awful sense of impending doom. He shook himself mentally and tried to rid his mind of such gloomy thoughts by keeping a smile pinned to his face as he listened to her chatter about how her dear friends were always popping in to keep her company, how Evi fussed over her and kept her comfortable, and how adorable their little Christine looked in her new dress of apple-green.

Niklas had his bath while Evi sat with Karolina. He would carry his wife downstairs so that she could join them for supper, but firsthe put Christine to bed and told her a bedtime story. It was her favourite tale of Little Lotte and the Angel of Music. She said her prayers, asking the Good Lord to bless Mamma, Daddy, Grandmama and Grandpapa and asked Him to look after Mamma and the baby. She wound her arms around his neck as he kissed her goodnight.

"Goodnight Daddy. Don’t worry about Mamma because she will be guarded and guided along her own special path. The Angel told me so."

Niklas held his little daughter close against him, his face buried in her dark curls, his eyes shut tight against the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

Some time later Evi came downstairs to the parlour to take her leave of him after attending to Karolina. She found him sitting by the window, staring out at the approaching dusk but seeing nothing. She went to stand beside him, putting a hand on his neck in a gentle caress. He looked up ... and read in her eyes a message of complete understanding.

Evi knew, as he did only too well, that their beloved Karolina was slowly losing her hold on life and would eventually slip away from them. The very notion was unbearable - unthinkable - but they both knew they must prepare to face the tragedy that was hovering above them. They must accept the inevitable, for it was truly God’s will that their darling girl would soon be called to His side.

The coming weeks would assuredly put their innermost feelings to the deepest and most gruelling of testing times in keeping this knowledge from their loved ones.

********************

Part 10 – Partings

With tears welling in her eyes, the midwife laid the baby once more in Karolina’s arms, having gently cleansed him and wrapped him in a soft white shawl. Shaking her head sadly, she moved away from the bed, leaving the bereaved mother alone with her devastated husband. Niklas was on the bed with his arms around Karolina and their son, a tiny soul born into the world after a long and harrowing struggle. He lived just long enough to draw a few gasping breaths before his small face turned blue and he died in the arms of his anguished young mother.

Dr Lundgren sat in the parlour with Evi and Stefan, trying to drink the cup of hot coffee that Evi had handed him. All three faces were bleak and drawn in shocked and numbing disbelief. The labour had been relentlessly cruel, causing the young mother intolerable and endless pain. The doctor had tried his best to alleviate her sufferings by holding an ether-soaked cloth over her mouth and nostrils in an effort to moderate the pain, but to no avail. In desperation he had even contemplated surgery, but she was too far into the birth and he could not further risk her life if her heart was unable to cope with the ordeal of an operation.

Finally, Karolina reached a state of such mental and physical exhaustion that all she wanted in those long, tortured hours was to leave her pain-wracked world forever.

To go to sleep, never to awaken.

Instead she had to endure the agony until that final crescendo of appalling pain which tore at her body until the infant was finally released into the world. It was all over, but irreparable damage had been done to her body, and her longed-for child was to leave her before she even had the chance to tell him how much she loved him.

"Oh Lord, my sweet Lord, take our child into Thy loving care."

Karolina murmured her prayer over and over again as she stroked the downy little head. Silent tears of anguish slipped down her cheeks, many of which fell onto the baby’s sweet, still features.

Watching her, Niklas felt as though his heart was being slowly wrenched from his body, so overwhelming was his own grief. The baby was perfectly formed, a tiny angel-child who had died almost from the moment he had lived. His beautiful, beloved Lina had so yearned to give him a son, only to have her dream shattered and her body wrecked. The tragedy was wretchedly hard for her to bear, for she had taken such care during the long months of the pregnancy, and as the time had drawn near to her confinement she had dared to hope that at last her dream would be realised.

The midwife knocked on the door, calling softly that little Christine wanted to see her brother. Niklas looked at Karolina, his red-rimmed eyes questioning. She nodded, trying to smile as with infinitely gentle fingers, he wiped away her tears. He rose from the bed and went to open the door to find his little daughter there, the midwife’s hand on her shoulder.

"May I see Mamma and the baby now, please Daddy?" The child asked the question gravely, her eyes enormous in her small face.

"Of course, my sweet," Niklas managed to utter, and led Christine to where her mother lay with the baby in her arms.

The midwife stood aside to allow to Evi to enter the room, then quietly closed the door.

********************

He knew he was losing her, knew she was slipping away from him even as he watched. Her face was no less white than the sheets in which she lay, her long eyelashes forming little dark crescents on her pale cheeks, her lips tinged a dull and sickly grey.

Oh God! My Lina – my beautiful Lina is dying – what shall I do? How can I live without her?

Niklas felt a terrible numbness overcome his body, paralysing his limbs into rigid immobility. His mind went completely blank as he stared at the still figure on the bed, and he was lost in a dark world of drifting, meaningless shadows.

Evi could not bear to intrude on that poignant and terrible last goodbye between husband and wife. She trod quietly over to the chaise-longue by the window and sat down, blindly staring out of the window, her face stricken with absolute grief. The loss of her husband had been hard to bear, but the pain of losing her only child, her lovely, laughing young daughter was the greatest sorrow she had ever known.

Niklas watched his own daughter climb onto the bed and carefully edge towards her mother. Mamma was very sad and very ill because of the baby and Christine wanted to comfort her. She stretched out a small hand and touched her mother’s face with a little fluttering gesture of her fingers. For an instant, Karolina’s eyes flickered open to reveal their shadowed blue depths against the chalk-white face. She turned her head slightly to kiss the delicate fingers and spoke in a soft, breathless voice.

"Darling ... little girl, Mamma ... loves you ... dearly ... so very ... dearly."

She took the little hand in her own weak clasp.

"Give Mamma a sweet kiss, darling."

She smiled tremulously as Christine's rosy little mouth came down upon her own bloodless lips. Her voice sank to the merest whisper of sound.

"Lovely ... lovely little rosebud. My darling ... I have to ... leave you now. The ... little ones, you see, they need me. Look after ... Daddy, my ... dearest one."

She turned her head towards her husband. Their gaze met and held in a long look of pure love. Then she smiled, a sudden, wide smile while her eyes glowed with a pure, radiant light. It was as though she could see something quite, quite beautiful that was just beyond his reach. As he watched, those luminous eyes began to dim and she reached out a hand for one final, loving touch from his own. She spoke once more with little gasping breaths.

"I ... love you, my Nik. Love of ... my life. Take care of ... our ... little Christine. She is yours ... from now ... on. Name ... our darling son ... for you, and lay him ... with me."

Her eyes closed. She gave one long sighing breath of release, almost of contentment, and turned her head upon the pillow. He bent to kiss her pale lips.

"I love you beyond forever, my lovely girl, my own darling wife. Beloved Lina, always and forever."

Niklas knew she had gone.

********************

Christine slid down from the bed and ran to her father’s side to clutch hold of his hand. Silent tears streamed down his anguished face as he returned the clasp of those warm little fingers. She looked up at him, the earnest expression on her little face so sweet in its childish honesty.

"Don’t cry, Daddy. Mamma has gone to look after the babies. Look, the Angel has come to take her. See – he is picking her up and carrying her to Heaven. She will get better there."

A great wrenching sob escaped Niklas. "Angel ...? You can see ... see an Angel, my sweet?", he choked in a voice that was hoarse with shattered, disbelieving grief.

"Yes, Daddy. It is Mamma’s special Angel – the one who came to see her before. She always woke up when he touched her, but he is taking her with him this time. They are going to see God and all the angels. He is very beautiful, Daddy. Like my Angel."

"Your ... your angel, poppet?" Niklas touched her curly head and heaved back another sob. "Have you ... have you seen a special angel too?"

"No, I haven’t actually seen my angel, Daddy. I only hear him inside my head. He asks me to sing for him. He says – ‘sing for me – sing, my little one’. Do you suppose he is the Angel of Music?"

Christine looked up at her father. His eyes were was so terribly sad as he tried to answer her, tears raining down his face which looked so crushed with helpless misery that she flung her arms around his legs and began to cry and shout in frightened confusion.

"Daddy, Daddy, I want Mamma to wake up – why has the Angel taken her away? Oh, Daddy, make her wake up!"

The little girl’s cries were breaking his heart as he tried to comfort her. Evi rose up from her chair and gently took Christine by the hand, trying to soothe the crying child by promising her a lovely drink of hot chocolate and a gingerbread man. Afterwards she could lie on her bed and have a little sleep. Grandmama would tuck her in and sit with her to read a story before she went to sleep. Christine nodded, gulping back her tears as best she could, saying that she would like to do that.

Niklas silently watched as Evi led his bewildered little daughter from the room, and his heart broke afresh. She was finding it all so hard to understand.

He turned his gaze back upon his wife. How utterly beautiful and serene she looked, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her long lashes dark against her pale face. Their tiny baby son nestled in the crook of her arm, a fairylike little creature in his sweet but lifeless repose. In life his Karolina had been as fresh and lovely as the dawn itself. In death she was angelically fair in her last peaceful sleep.

Niklas fell to his knees beside the bed and began to pray.

Downstairs, Christine was sipping her chocolate drink as Evi drank some tea. On the table was a plate of gingerbread men biscuits and a fruit loaf. Christine still drew in little sobbing breaths whilst Evi's hands shook as she replaced her cup into the saucer. Evi was about to offer a biscuit to Christine when suddenly they heard the most awful, heart-stopping cry of disbelief from above.

Evi dropped her table napkin and ran out of the door with Christine at her heels. They sped up the stairs and into the room where Karolina lay, to find that Niklas was on his knees beside the bed.

He looked up at their entry, his eyes wild with grief. Evi thought she had never seen such heartbreak on a human face.

Thoroughly frightened by her Daddy’s terrible rasping sobs, Christine ran to him. When she saw the reason for his tears she too, burst into a storm of weeping.

There, lying on the floor half-hidden by the quilt, lay their beloved cat Benny. His claws were dug deeply into one of Mamma’s shawls where he had obviously pulled it from the back of the bedside chair whilst suffering some kind of seizure.

The little cat was quite dead.

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Part 11 – Farewells

Four days later, Karolina and her baby son were laid to rest beneath the shady peace of the trees in the graveyard adjoining the little church where she had so joyfully wed her Niklas. All the townsfolk attended, for she had been greatly loved and their sorrow was immense. In tears, the women watched and clung to their sombre menfolk as Niklas and his little daughter put their flowers on the grave. Stefan and Evi clung tightly to each other’s hands after laying their own floral tributes. The grave, with its poignantly new marble headstone, was covered in a great mass of blossoms.

Niklas stood for a long time with head bowed and eyes closed, his arm around Christine’s shoulders. Eventually, Stefan gently led him away and together they all walked back to their silent home.

Niklas had already buried Benny in the garden where the family held a little candlelight ceremony for him. The cat had originally belonged to Stefan, for he always liked to keep one at the restaurant to chase away any stray rodents. As he stood holding Christine's hand, Stefan remembered when Karolina had joined the staff, and the animal had immediately attached itself to her, following her around everywhere. She had fallen absolutely in love with the little rogue, cuddling and stroking him whenever she had the opportunity. On the day he had followed her home to her lodgings, Stefan had laughingly insisted that she keep him, for it was obvious that Benny had claimed her as his very own.

"I will get another cat for the restaurant, dear. No please, I insist you take him home with you. It’s quite obvious you were meant for each other!"

Stefan took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes as memories came flooding back of that laughing, carefree girl who had worked so cheerfully for him. It seemed that once more her beloved pet had followed her, faithful to the end.

Christine had put the little cat’s favourite toys in his burial box, and they wrapped the box in Mamma’s shawl. It was the one he had held steadfastly to him as he joined her on her final journey.

Christine cried many tears, sobbing endlessly for her Mamma and the cat. For many days afterwards she stumbled around with a look of dazed bewilderment on her face, infinitely touching to those who witnessed her sorrow. Indeed, she was hardly able to comprehend the tragedies that had befallen her precious family.

Her father was in a similar state, unable to eat or sleep. He began to lose weight at an alarming rate and his handsome face grew gaunt and drawn, his features sombre as he eyed a world which meant nothing to him.

Evi was practically living with them now, doing her best to look after them but heartsick with grief herself.

Two weeks Stefan became so worried about his son’s health that he urged him go away for a while; to do as he himself had done when the boy’s mother died all those years ago. For a soul in such torment, the peace and tranquillity of that beautiful lake in its majestic surroundings would surely bring some solace to his anguished spirit.

"Nik, boy, I want you to take yourself away from this house, away from the pall of grief that is shrouding you like a fog. I want you to take Christine to the cabin. There, you can breathe in the pure air of hope, let Mother Nature lay her healing touch upon your soul. Please, Nik, do as I ask," his father pleaded. "It worked for me, and I want it to do the same for you. Stay as long as you wish. Evi and I will take care of the house."

Stefan’s hand was warm against his neck. Niklas stared back at his father with haunted blue eyes and lips that trembled uncontrollably.

"Oh Papa, Papa ... I can’t go on without her ... I can’t see ... can't hear … there is nothing but dark emptiness," he whispered, fresh tears spilling painfully from eyes that were sore and gritty from constant weeping. "She was my life ... my soul ... there is nothing ... for me ... oh, Lina …"

His voice trailed off. He ran a shaking hand over his unshaven chin and reddened eyes, and then scrubbed them violently through the thick mass of his unkempt and unwashed curly hair. His father watched with eyes full of love and compassion, but then he grabbed at those hands and shook them quite fiercely.

"You have your daughter, Niklas! In Christine you have everything to live for, do you hear me? Do you really think that Karolina would have you neglect yourself, neglect Christine? Wake up, son! Come out of that trance! Look, I know how hard it is for you ..."

His words ended abruptly as Niklas pushed him away with a rough exclamation of irritation.

Stefan lost his temper then. He jumped to his feet and shouted at his son, his voice harsh with rage at both a present and a remembered grief.

"Just listen to me, Niklas! Yes, I do know how it is to grieve for a beloved wife, for I lost my wife too, you know! I lost my Agneta when she was still a young woman with everything to live for. Lost the mother of my child. My wife, my lover, my friend and life’s sweet companion. I do know how you feel, believe me!"

He broke off, distraught by the fact that he had raised his voice in anger at his son, his own dear boy who was sick with despair and bereavement, looking so abjectly lost as he sat with his head buried in his hands. Stefan’s eyes filled with tears as he whispered a broken apology.

"Nik, Nik, forgive me ... I did not mean ..."

Niklas raised his head, his ashen face twisted with anguished remorse.

"No! No, Father, I must beg your forgiveness. I am ... so sorry. We must not ... use each other so. Oh, Papa! Dearest Papa ...!"

He leapt up and hurled himself into his father's ready embrace. The two men stood together and cried in each other’s arms, cried out their grief and sorrow, sobbed out their anger and bitterness, their loss and longing. Later, both completely drained of all emotion and worn-out to the point of absolute fatigue, they sank down upon the couch and fell into an exhausted sleep. Evi found them two hours later, deeply asleep as Nik lay with his head on his father’s lap. She covered them with a blanket and let them sleep on.

********************

Three days later, their two-wheeled carriage stood at the door of the little house. Niklas emerged with two large bags and stowed them under the seat, then went back into the house to collect his daughter. Straightaway Christine went to Hansi's head to say good morning. The sturdy little brown cob whickered in a friendly manner as Christine stroked his velvety nose several times before allowing her father to lift her up into the trap. Evi tucked a blanket around her granddaughter’s legs so that they could drive along with the hood down as the morning was fine and sunny. She took Christine’s little face between her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. She was still pale and had not yet regained her youthful energy, yet beneath the brim of her bonnet her big blue eyes held a sparkle of excitement at the thought of the adventure ahead with her beloved Daddy.

Then it was Stefan's turn to reach into the carriage to give the little girl a hug and several kisses. He pressed a small parcel into her gloved hands as he drew back and said he and Grandmama hoped it would bring her luck as well as making her look even prettier.

Niklas kissed Evi fondly, holding her close for long moments. She returned his embrace, stepped back and reached up to caress his face, so thin where the weight had fallen away over the past few weeks.

"Take very great care of yourself, my love, and may God be with you both", she said softly.

He caught her hand in his and kissed it, unable to speak but nodding a mute acknowledgement. Then he turned to his father and held him in a bear-like embrace, kissing his care-worn cheek.

"God bless you, Papa", he whispered huskily.

Stefan blew his nose hard, causing Christine to ask if Grandpapa had caught a horrid cold.

"No, little angel, Grandpapa is simply a foolish old man who cries when his granddaughter goes gadding off in a carriage!"

He pulled a face and made her laugh. Then he put a playful fist under his son’s chin, trying to hold back his emotions as he told the boy to take good care of himself and his little angel, and to be sure to stay at the cabin on the lake for as long as he wished. He was not to worry about the house – his old Papa would look after everything.

Niklas nodded and swallowed a sudden constriction in his throat as he climbed up into the driver’s seat.

"Lina ...?", he managed to ask.

"We will go to her every single day, Nik. Every day, I promise you. Our darling’s resting place will always be well cared for, so please don’t worry." Evi and Stefan assured him.

"Thank you both."

The bereaved young husband whispered his acknowledgement. He took up the reins, looked down at Evi and Stefan and wished them a somewhat tremulous farewell.

"Adieu, my dear ones. We will both write to you."

He was about to let go the reins when he cast a glance over his shoulder to see if Christine was comfortable. She had opened her gift from Grandpapa and Grandmamma, the brown paper ripped into uneven strips as she had torn it open in eager anticipation.

"Look Daddy! Look at my lovely present – isn’t it beautiful!"

She held up the contents of the parcel and waved it at him.

It was a red scarf.

Little Swedish Nightingale ~ continued

© Jeanette Birt 2002