by Helena Halme
Kaisa didn’t mind, not really; she knew how all-consuming Peter’s job was. When, on occasion, there was a big news story affecting Finland, such as the Chernobyl disaster in Russia, when the Finnish authorities had initially kept silent about the increased levels of radiation in the atmosphere, and Finnish citizens had been evacuated from Ukraine, she’d been asked by the BBC to be on call. She hadn’t been able to relax for the whole of May, as news about the accident trickled through to Finland from the Soviet Union and the full horror of the disaster became known.
Besides, to talk about Duncan so close to where it had all happened was unthinkable anyway. Once again, for the thousandth time, she cursed Duncan and her own stupidity. How far-reaching could the consequences of her one mistake be?
Seven
Glasgow airport was deserted on the Wednesday morning when Peter walked into the arrivals hall. He was early; he’d made sure he left the base in Faslane in good time. The last thing he needed was for Kaisa to have to wait around for him. That would make her irritable, he knew that. To please her even more, he’d also managed to stop off at a garage just outside Dunbarton where they sold flowers; it wasn’t quite the customary single red rose, but he’d got a bunch of red tulips instead.
The plane was on time, and when Peter saw Kaisa descend the steps at the other side of the luggage carousel, he waved the flowers in her direction and was rewarded with a wide smile. He walked towards his wife, trying not to run; that would have been too much of a cliché, and would have aroused the interest of the other passengers as well as the Caledonian Airlines crew clad in their customary tartan uniforms.
They kissed for a long time. Kaisa’s lips were soft and sweet, and she smelled of her usual musky perfume. Peter had to concentrate to prevent an embarrassing bulge from rising in his trousers.
‘I’m so glad you could come. Good flight?’ Peter asked. He spotted Kaisa’s red holdall and picked it up from the moving luggage carousel.
‘Yes, thank you. And nice flowers,’ Kaisa added and gave Peter another peck on his lips. Peter placed his hand on her waist and guided her towards the exit.
She was wearing a blue dress, which Peter hadn’t seen before. He wondered what underwear she had on and whether she was wearing stockings or tights. Briefly, a memory of Kaisa wearing nothing but silky French knickers, suspenders and stockings flashed in Peter’s mind and again he had to remind himself to be patient. He’d take Kaisa into bed as soon as they arrived in Helensburgh. Unfortunately, the place he’d managed to wrangle out of the Housing Officer at short notice for the two days Kaisa was with him was on Smuggler’s Way, a few houses away from the married quarter where they’d lived as a newly married couple five years previously. He hoped Kaisa wouldn’t mind – it was either that or staying at the base where they would have no privacy at all from the crew and all the other officers he knew so well.
‘That dress suits you,’ he said and squeezed her close as they made their way towards the airport car park, adjusting their walk so that their steps matched exactly.
* * *
Looking out of the window during the drive to Helensburgh, Kaisa fiddled with the buckle of the cloth belt on her new dress. The silky dress, with shoulder pads and a pleated skirt, had been an impulse buy. She hadn’t intended to buy anything but Ravi had convinced her she must get it.
She looked across to Peter, who turned his head and smiled at her.
‘What’s up?’ he asked.
Kaisa shifted her eyes away from Peter to look at the view. They’d just turned onto the road that the locals called ‘Seafront’, which ran along the Gareloch. A few sailing boats were bobbing at the end of a wooden pier, but the wide pavement, meant for strolling beside the water, Kaisa assumed, was deserted. There was light rain falling onto the water and the asphalt.
‘Just tired, darling,’ she said, and turned to look back at Peter. ‘I see it’s raining,’ she added and smiled. The Navy had a joke for the weather in Faslane, ‘If it’s not raining it’s about to.’
How English I’ve become, Kaisa thought. When I don’t know what to say, or I am keeping a secret from my husband, I talk about the weather instead.
* * *
Peter drove past their old house on Smuggler’s Way quickly, and got Kaisa inside the flat before either of them could mention ‘the old times’.
Inside, they stood at the window admiring the view of the Gareloch. The rain had stopped and the sun was now high above the sky, glaring down on them from a sky threaded with grey clouds. The surface of the loch had a low mist hanging over it.
To the right, Peter could see the steel roofs of the base, which reminded him to check that the telephone in the flat was working, as had been promised. Peter hoped the problems with the navigating system would be fixed before there’d be any need for a Board of Inquiry about it. That would mean further delays in him travelling back home to London.
He couldn’t reveal any of this to Kaisa, and although they were both used to the secrets Peter had to keep from her, it bothered Peter more and more as the years went by, and Kaisa and he grew closer to each other. He knew it was still difficult for her.
Peter moved away from Kaisa, making her turn her head. When she saw him lift the receiver, she sighed, her shoulders moving up and down. She hadn’t yet taken off the mac she’d put on when they’d got out of the car, and the breeze from the Gareloch had hit them. When Peter heard the long dial tone, he returned to Kaisa and put his arms around her.
‘Take this off. I want to see you in that lovely new dress.’
But when he went to pull the coat off her, he noticed she was shaking. He turned her around and saw there were tears in her eyes.
‘Oh Peter,’ she said and buried her head into his neck.
‘Shh,’ Peter said and stroked Kaisa’s back. Over her shoulder, Peter looked at the eerie view of the misty lake. He realised now what a mistake it had been to rent the flat. How stupid and unthinking of him! He took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed Kaisa away from him so that he could see her face.
‘Look, we can go somewhere else.’
The past few times Kaisa had come up to see him, they’d either stayed with their good friends Nigel and Pammy, when Nigel was still based in Scotland, or Peter had rented a room in The Ardencaple, one of the hotels in town.
Kaisa sniffled and hung her head. She dug a tissue out of the pocket of her coat and blew her nose. ‘It’s not that,’ she whispered, before a new wave of crying took hold of her again.
Peter took a hankie out of his own pocket and wiped Kaisa’s tears away. ‘What’s the matter, darling?’
Kaisa took a deep breath in and blew her nose once more. ‘I had a …’ she hesitated and then brought her teary eyes up towards Peter, ‘I lost the baby again.’
* * *
Kaisa told Peter about the Poll Tax riot and how she’d tried to get closer to the action. She attempted to gauge his reaction as she carried on, telling him how she’d fallen, and how within 24 hours she’d started to bleed.
‘I’m not sure if it was that, or if it’s something else,’ Kaisa said, fiddling with the belt on her dress again.
But Peter’s face was full of concern, and he took Kaisa into his arms.
‘Darling, please stop crying. We’ll try again, won’t we?’ he said, pulling her away from him.
Kaisa nodded.
‘But they do make you work too hard,’ Peter said, his face suddenly grave.
Again Kaisa said nothing. She knew he was right, but what else was there for her to do when Peter was away?
She was proud to be the voice of the BBC in Finland. She knew it was pure snobbery on her part, but she couldn’t help the sense of superiority she felt each time she told someone she worked as a news reporter for the BBC’s World Service.
It also gave her a strange thrill to think how many people were listening to her in Finland while she read the news. Even more so when she had written the report herself. A combination of keeping
up to date with the news from Finland, and keeping Finns informed of the world news and the events in Britain, was both rewarding and interesting. Her job was now almost as important as Peter’s. She also worked for a large organisation that was well-respected all over the world.
But she didn’t say any of this now; she just looked down at her hands on her lap. She wanted so much to tell Peter about the test, about the horror that was hanging over her head, possibly over both their heads. She looked up at Peter, and opened her mouth, but at that moment, the telephone rang and Peter moved away to pick up the receiver in the hall.
Listening to Peter talk on the phone, promising whoever it was to see him later, Kaisa inhaled deeply and slowly let the air run out of her lungs. Had he been called out to the base? She could hardly be mad at him about it, but she wondered what she’d do in the cold apartment on her own. Alone, her thoughts would drive her crazy.
* * *
Later in the afternoon Peter lay in bed, with Kaisa in the crook of his arm. She’d not cried for long, and thank goodness he’d been able to comfort her. It was a bitter disappointment, losing another baby, so he hadn’t told Kaisa his good news yet. Instead, after the phone call, they’d climbed into bed, even though it was the middle of the day, just hugging and kissing. When Kaisa had begun unbuckling Peter’s trousers, he’d placed his hand on hers and, looking into her eyes, said, ‘Are you sure this is OK?’
Kaisa had just nodded and placed her fingers on his lips. ‘I have condoms in my bag.’
They made love gently, unhurriedly, even though they hadn’t seen each other for weeks. Irrationally, Peter was afraid he would somehow hurt Kaisa, but she kept assuring him it was OK. Afterwards, Peter lit a cigarette and said, ‘I’ve got some news too.’
Kaisa pulled herself half up and rested her head on her elbow. ‘A shore job?’
Peter saw how beautiful her bare breasts were, with the pink nipples still hard from the sex they’d just had. ‘No, I’m afraid not.’
‘What then?’ Kaisa took the cigarette from Peter and sat up to take a drag. Seeing Peter’s expression, she said, ‘One won’t hurt.’
Peter also sat up and leaned against the wall. ‘I’m going to be on the next Perisher!’
Kaisa got up onto her knees and stared at Peter.
‘Aren’t you pleased?’
‘That’s fantastic!’ Kaisa put the cigarette on the saucer that Peter had been using as an ashtray and placed her arms around his neck. She kissed him on the mouth and Peter took hold of her tiny waist, pulling her away.
‘I didn’t want to tell you when you’d been through the mill again with the baby …’
Kaisa looked down at her hands. Peter could see she was trying to control herself, biting her lower lip.
‘I’m not the youngest to be put forward, but considering my career, with the Court Martial, it’s quite an achievement. It seems someone has dropped out – one of the Canadian officers – so I got in a bit quicker than I’d anticipated.’
Kaisa was quiet again. Seeing her downcast face, with the beautiful, unruly blonde wisps of her shoulder-length hair half-covering her high cheekbones, Peter thought he was such an idiot. Why did he have to bring up the past just now, after what they’d just done, and after what Kaisa had told him?
But just then, she lifted her head, letting the hair fall off her eyes, and Peter saw to his relief that she was smiling. ‘I knew you’d do it! Well, done, darling. A captain, eh?’
‘All being well.’ Peter said, feeling a wide smile spread over his own face. ‘But, there’s a lot to do before I get that far. Besides, the failure rate is something like one in four, so …’
Kaisa nuzzled into him again. ‘You’ll do it, I know you will!’
‘But it means I don’t get any leave as planned. The course starts on Monday.’
At that, Kaisa got up and looked at him with those large blue eyes of hers. They were more intense now, and he was again worried she’d cry. ‘But I get some weekends off.’
‘OK,’ Kaisa said and laid back down, now a little away from Peter. ‘You’d better pass then,’ she said, and lifting her head up to face Peter, she kissed him fully on the mouth.
Eight
Listen, I’ve got another bit of news.’ Peter said.
They were back in the small, cold kitchen of the married quarter. Kaisa shivered from the chill, but also from seeing the stripey curtains, in garish green and yellow, which hung either side of the small window overlooking the steep hill, on which a group of concrete blocks of flats faced the dank waters of Gareloch. The curtains were too short for the window and hung limp on either side, neither blocking the faint light of the wet summer afternoon, nor keeping the drafts away from the kitchen. The horrible decor of the married quarter, the view of the loch, and the damp cold, which seemed to creep into every joint of her body, reminded Kaisa of the terrible few months she’d lived in Helensburgh as a newly married and lonely Navy wife. She shuddered again and tried not to think of the past, or what they might have to face in the future, but to concentrate on how happy she was now, this moment, together with Peter. Their life now was nothing like the first miserable year of their marriage.
‘Really? What?’ Kaisa said. She turned around, her hands dripping water.
Underneath the window with the awful curtains was a stainless steel sink at which Kaisa was washing a pair of tea mugs. She’d spotted a row of the smoked glass mugs in the cupboard on the left side of the window. She didn’t trust the previous occupiers to have washed them properly, so she insisted on giving them a run under the lukewarm water. She now dried the cups, added the tea bags, and Peter poured hot water over them. There was no coffee, and Kaisa had forgotten to bring her one-cup filters, so she settled for a cup of weak black tea. But as soon as she brought the mug up to her face and got the scent of the black liquid, she put the cup back down on the counter.
‘No good?’ Peter said and took a large gulp of his milky tea.
‘Sorry,’ Kaisa said and poured the tea down the sink. ‘I wonder if they might have my coffee filters in town?’
‘Might do. We’ll drive down and see,’ Peter said. He came over and put his hands on Kaisa’s waist. He gave her a peck on her lips and continued, ‘Look, I’m sorry but we’ve been invited out to dinner tonight.’
Kaisa moved away and leaned against the sink, letting Peter’s hands drop down. ‘Oh yes?’
‘Don’t be like that, Kaisa.’ Peter’s voice was soft. He was looking at Kaisa, not smiling. ‘It’s my Captain. I told him you were coming over yesterday, and his wife, you know her, Costa, phoned just now saying that since you were up here so rarely it would be lovely to have us over for supper. I couldn’t say no.’
Kaisa nodded. Oh, how she hated these suppers given by Navy wives. It puzzled her why they did it. No one seemed to enjoy themselves during these dinners, not the hostess, nor the guests, so why go to the trouble?
Peter had often told her it was important for the wives to get to know each other so that when the submarine went on patrol, they could support each other. ‘It’s easier if the wives have already met,’ he’d said. They’d ended the conversation there, because Peter knew how Kaisa felt about that support.
Apart from her friend Pammy, Kaisa hadn’t experienced any friendliness from the other wives when she’d lived in the married quarters; in fact, rather the opposite. Besides, she knew everyone at these dinner parties would disapprove of her lifestyle and career.
Apart from Pammy, people in the Navy were the only members of the population who seemed to think wives shouldn’t have careers of their own. They gave no recognition of achievement, and seemed to think she was being selfish by pursuing her own interests rather than supporting her husband’s Navy career. On the other hand, a dinner party tonight would buy Kaisa more time, and being with others would hopefully stop her from telling Peter about Duncan – and the virus.
‘What time?’ Kaisa asked.
Peter came closer to Kaisa a
nd took her into his embrace, ‘It’ll be OK.’
* * *
The Captain, Stewart Harding, and his wife, Costa, short for Constance, lived outside Helensburgh, by Loch Lomond, in a place called Arden. It was a tiny village and their house stood in a small cul-de-sac.
Kaisa remembered that Costa loved horses, and wasn’t surprised to see that they had stables as well as a paddock fenced off from the garden. Standing next to the stone-clad fireplace in their vast living room, with a gin and tonic in her hand, Kaisa listened to Peter’s Captain, a shortish man with a roundish belly overhanging his brown corduroy trousers, tell them how his wife loved the fillies more than she did him. From the conversation, Kaisa had gathered that Costa had bought a new horse each time one of their three children had been sent away to school. The Captain’s laughter filled the room. He directed his pale blue eyes at Kaisa and and nudged Peter’s side.
‘But I hear you are the brains of this marriage, dear?’
Kaisa smiled and shifted herself a little. The roaring log fire was beginning to burn Kaisa’s bum. She gazed at the Captain and wondered if he was about to refer to her as a ‘career woman’. In the Navy it seemed, women weren’t allowed to have careers unless they were unmarried WRENs. Kaisa opened her mouth to say something, and then saw Peter shoot her a warning look.
‘Not at all,’ Kaisa replied sweetly, but Stewart didn’t hear because at that moment the doorbell chimed. Placing his glass on a low coffee table, he excused himself.
When the Captain had gone into the hall, Peter came to stand next to Kaisa and put his arm around her waist. ‘Take a deep breath,’ he whispered into her ear and gave her a quick peck on the side of her mouth.
‘I’m OK,’ she said and smiled.
