And he will also like thinking that the baroness getting to know the twins at Bule Marsh has something to do with what he is telling her about them, that it makes her interested, so to speak, so that she wants to be involved, take part in something.
She starts coming to the twins at Bule Marsh, precisely in the mornings.
They teach her to swim and she, who is widely traveled and knows a great deal about most things, talks to the girls about life and the world that is large, the many interesting places to visit, a lot of interesting things to see along the way. But the world in a metaphorical sense as well, like the world inside you: that you can be and become yourself. It being your duty as a human being to take advantage of all these possibilities. I have placed you in the center of the world… The baroness quotes Pico della Mirandola there at Bule Marsh. The world as a garden. Welcome girls to my lovely garden—
Pico della Mirandola, the Renaissance there at Bule Marsh, of course, you can smile a little. I have placed you in the center of the world. On the other hand, completely realistic.
And Tobias comes there often. Like a small family on the beach—or what should you call it; but a somewhat special kinship, a unit, a possibility. But in some way, at that time, he is already thinking—so fragile.
“I can’t swim, Tobias.” The baroness laughs as it were there on the veranda many times. “So it’s about time I learn. But funny girls—”
But, of course, on the veranda, they also talk about other things. Their own things, interests they share. About gardens, plants, the woods, and nature. “I’m going to have my winter garden here on the veranda.” The baroness laughs. “My hacienda. My own world.”
Below the Glass House, at the edge of the beach, there is a boathouse, a small hut on poles stuck between the rocks on the beach, a terrace facing the sea. That is where she spends her time, the American girl Eddie de Wire, a short time, a few months during the summer of 1969 when she is in the District.
She has come from America, the baroness has taken her under her wing, they are distant relations. She lived with her since the winter and comes with her to the summer residence on the Second Cape. Meets Björn who becomes her boyfriend and Bengt who is six years younger but the two of them become good friends as well, gradually spending a lot of time together, just the two of them.
But otherwise, Eddie de Wire, who is she? You do not really know. It is one summer—yet, like a question mark, a mystery. It is also a bit like this with the American girclass="underline" one day she is in the District, and few months later she is gone. Just nineteen years old when she falls from Lore Cliff at the beginning of the month of August and tumbles to her death in Bule Marsh.
“Blood is thicker than water.” It is the baroness who says that to Tobias on the veranda at the Glass House, where they are sitting, talking to each other that summer before all of the horrible things happen. She says it many times on various occasions, in various tones of voice. Sometimes ironically, sometimes excusing herself, sometimes as if “despite everything,” officiously and decidedly.
The blood, the water, the kinship. It is about the American girl, who is such a disappointment to her. She makes no secret of it either: after Eddie de Wire’s death several others in the District will be able to hear those words ringing in their ears, “such a disappointment.”
So Eddie de Wire living in the boathouse and not up in the Glass House with the baroness can be seen as an expulsion. Which the baroness, “Karin,” herself does not say outright, not even to Tobias but it can be gathered by the mood. Something that is suddenly so different this year: the baroness’s exhaustion, hesitation, anxiety—or, pure fear? Can also be seen in the mornings with the twins at Bule Marsh. Yes, the baroness is there this summer as well, but not as often. Clearly irritated sometimes, snaps at the girls, “Don’t stand there and dawdle like the cat’s got your tongue.” Says things like that, which make the girls confused, careful and clumsy, nervous. And then when she still tries to be like before, starts talking about all of her trips, about Italy, the world, Pico della Mirandola, the Renaissance… it often happens that she just stops. Does not get in the water, wraps her bathrobe more tightly around herself, remains sitting on the beach.
“Such a disappointment…” Not even with Tobias, when it is just the two of them on the veranda, does she explain it any further. On the other hand: Tobias does not ask, as if there were a distance between them that neither really understands. But at the same time, when they got together it was as if they were both so preoccupied with bridging the gap they were unable to focus on anything else.
Put your finger on what has changed, try and stumble your way forward to an old fellowship. “Karin,” “Tobias,” “Karin,” “Tobias”… and then they sit there saying staccato lines to each other that begin with the same terms of address, “Karin,” “Tobias,” meaningless, like an old parlor game. Find a manner… it slips away.
For example, a certain afternoon in the Glass House at the end of July 1969: “Karin,” “Tobias,” in the Winter Garden—Tobias who suddenly says to her that he is going away.
“To Italy?” “Karin” asks then. It comes out in a hurry, sharp and almost ill-tempered. Tobias laughs. “Well. Not now anyway.”
No, no, Karin: Tobias is going to an in-service training seminar in another city, will be gone almost a week, which he says with a sober severity in his voice too, as if he is reprimanding her, like the teacher he is in real life. With the purpose of underlining the difference between the two of them: he is never anywhere, much less abroad, does not have the possibility. It hits home, of course, “Karin” understands perfectly, laughs acidly, shrugs her shoulders, picks up a book. Once she came to him—now, all of this alienation, and he regrets it of course—at the same time, the reality in everything, when you understand that it is the last time. And at the same time: a dreadful parlor game, “Karin,” “Tobias.”
Like this too: in the next moment Tobias stands and walks to the window. Stands on the glassed-in veranda—of course, for real; glass against the world here—and looks out. The boathouse off to the side, where Eddie de Wire and Bengt can be found even on this late afternoon. On the terrace, just the two of them, babbling away.
Eddie and Bengt: feet dangling over the water, the sea opening up in front of them. Eddie with the guitar she is plucking at amusedly, Bengt drawing, talking. He who was always so quiet, as if transformed, suddenly something a bit happy about it.
And on the Second Cape otherwise, the summer life that is carrying on on its own, separate path. The children from the fancy houses, in the middle of their “sea life” with sailboats, skiffs that they devote themselves to as silly hobbies, fishing gear, motorboats.
But again, the unusual figures on the terrace of the boathouse. Brace yourself against them. In this moment, as if they ruled, were queen/king over everything. The boy’s babbling, the girl’s laughter, the only closeness.
They have a game, the Winter Garden.
The baroness, “Karin,” has at this point in time, July 1969, stopped saying “odd” about Bengt. Says, when speaking of Bengt and Eddie on the terrace of the boathouse, nothing. Pretends not to see them.