by Helena Halme
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Peter thought about Kaisa. She would probably be glad if he failed; it might mean that his career in the Navy was over. He knew that, secretly, she wanted him out of the service. But of course, at the same time, she knew how much his Navy career meant to him, so she wished him the best. But to divorce him because he’d failed a commander’s course? That she’d never do, Peter was sure of that.
‘She had got it into her head that she’d be the Captain’s wife, I suppose,’ Dick said and emptied his glass.
A group of officers neither men knew entered the bar, and Peter and Dick moved to a table in the corner with another round of drinks that Peter had insisted on.
The older man told Peter how shocked he’d been by the whole procedure after his dismissal from Perisher. He said that by the time he was told he was going, he’d already expected to fail. During his last attack exercises, the Teacher had taken control of the submarine twice, and on the second time, he’d seen how the man had nodded to his steward, who’d disappeared down the gangway and packed Dick’s bag. It had been the dead of night, and the other three candidates left on the course had been visibly embarrassed when they’d said goodbye to Dick. He hadn’t seen them since.
‘All three got a drive,’ Dick said drily.
Peter didn’t ask which captains Dick was talking about. They didn’t seem a particularly supportive bunch.
‘Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand why they failed me. But not to be able to step onboard a sub again. That’s tough.’
Peter nodded. It was Dick’s turn to get the beers in and as Peter watched him at the bar, he noticed how he still had the submariner’s stoop. Dick was a little taller than even Peter, which was unusual in a submariner. The spaces in diesel boats in particular were so cramped that most taller men either never applied to serve in submarines or developed a crouching stance over the years. Something that was evidently difficult to shake off even after you were out, Peter thought.
Back at the table, Dick sat down with a heavy sigh and continued his monologue, which Peter wasn’t about to interrupt.
‘The worst is that people are embarrassed to mention it. As if I was a leper or something.’
Peter felt ashamed. As soon as Dick had begun talking to him, his first instinct had also been to flee. Then he thought back to his Court Martial. People had treated him the same way. At first no one had said anything, and went to great lengths to avoid him on the base. It was only after a few months that the jibes and insults started flying. He guessed failing a submarine course wasn’t that bad.
‘Yeah, I know all about that,’ Peter said and gave Dick a sideways smile.
‘Of course. Sorry. Had forgotten about your little mishap,’ Dick said.
‘It’s OK. What do you do now?’
‘That’s the best thing about it; I’ve now got a shore job.’
Peter gave his new friend a puzzled look. ‘Really?’
‘Missile Command. I head the unit up in Coulport.’
‘Oh.’
‘I work office hours, and have the same pay, more or less. Without the sea-time. Couldn’t be better.’ Dick sighed. ‘You’d have thought that would have suited Mary, but it seems she was quite happy, or even happier, when I was away.’
‘Marriage isn’t easy for us submariners,’ Peter commented, before he realised what he’d said. ‘Sorry, I mean for us in the Navy.’
Dick leaned back in his chair and gave a short laugh. ‘No need to apologise. I know what you mean. You’ve had your struggles in that department?’
Peter gazed at Dick. His expression was open; there seemed to be no malice there. ‘Water under the bridge now.’
Dick nodded, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to have a dig.’
‘It’s fine. Kaisa …’ again Peter hesitated. Apart from his best man, Jeff, and his best mate Nigel, he hadn’t spoken about his marital problems with anyone else. He looked around the bar, which was now half-full. They were sitting in the far corner, and couldn’t be overheard.
‘Kaisa was young, jobless and lonely. And with me away on a patrol, she was taken advantage of.’
‘Heard the bastard was thrown out of the Navy?’
‘Yeah, after I’d given him a good hiding. But that cost me a Court Martial and a knock-back on my career. So not something I’d recommend,’ Peter said and grinned.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ Dick said and finished his pint. ‘One for the road?’
‘Go on then,’ Peter said.
In bed that night, Peter thought how lucky he was. Even if he failed Perisher he knew he could count on Kaisa. He loved Kaisa more now than he ever had. And they had both calmed down a lot. They rarely argued now, just the occasional row, which usually ended in passionate love-making. So why was it so important to have a baby too? Although he knew they’d be happy without children, Peter knew a baby would cement their relationship. He wanted a family, wanted a daughter or a son to bring up, someone to teach right from wrong, not to lie, or be unkind to others. Peter thought what a wonderful mother Kaisa would make. He could see her with a baby in her arms, and the image made his heart ache. He closed his eyes and told himself to stop being silly. What was the point in brooding over something that might never happen? Instead he thought about Kaisa’s beautiful body, and imagined what he’d do to her if she were lying next to him now. He fell asleep dreaming of his wife.
Eleven
Kaisa sat in the doctor’s surgery, which was nothing more than an ordinary narrow hallway of a Victorian semi-detached house. Her throat was dry and she kept fidgeting with the strap on her handbag. She’d had a call from the receptionist that morning, ‘Your test results are in, Mrs Williams.’ Kaisa had wondered about the tone of the woman’s voice. Was there disapproval in it? She decided to ignore it even if there was, and made her way to the surgery for a ten o’clock appointment with Doctor Harris.
She’d been waiting for ten minutes, checking her watch every 30 seconds, trying to appear calm. The receptionist glanced over to her every now and then, and Kaisa knew she must be aware of the reason Kaisa was there. Did she also know the result of her test, Kaisa wondered? What if it was positive? She would have to tell Peter straightaway.
That weekend Peter had managed to come down from Faslane. They’d spent the two days cooking, going to their local, The Earl of Lonsdale, for a drink or two, doing some gardening and nothing much else, apart from copious amounts of love-making with a condom. Thank goodness she had the excuse of not being allowed to try for a baby too soon after the miscarriage.
On her own in bed last night, after Peter had flown back up to Scotland, Kaisa had woken up several times worrying about the test and not telling him about it. She kept thinking that it was the right thing to do, and that soon, the very next week, she’d know one way or the other. It was a blessing, really, that the phone call from the surgery had come this very morning, although now, sitting and waiting, she almost wished she had a few more days’ grace before she knew the result.
She had discussed it all with Rose during several long conversations, which always began with Kaisa asking after Duncan (who was still poorly), and ended with an in-depth analysis of the options Kaisa had.
They had both agreed that telling Peter before she knew the reality of her situation would be foolish. Even in normal circumstances it would be selfish to worry him over a situation that was completely of Kaisa’s own making (this was something Rose refuted, however: she still thought that the whole affair was Duncan’s fault), but now that Peter was on the critical Perisher course, he didn’t need any distractions.
What she’d do if she did have the virus, Kaisa hadn’t decided. That was something she hadn’t even dared to discuss with Rose. Her friend was convinced that the test would prove negative, and wouldn’t entertain any other option. How Kaisa wished Rose was right! If she did have the virus, the thought of telling Peter was unthinkable. She knew it would ruin everything.
* * *
L
ater that same evening she telephoned Rose.
‘I’m clear!’ she said.
Kaisa heard her friend let out a long sigh.
‘Thank God for that!’
‘How is he?’ Kaisa asked.
Rose didn’t reply, so Kaisa added, ‘Rose, is everything OK?’
‘Not really, ‘ Rose sighed. ‘He’s with us still, sleeping in the Yellow Room.’
Kaisa thought back to her one visit to Rose’s large house in Dorset. She and Peter had spent a weekend with Rose and her husband Roger, both of whom had now retired early from the newspaper business. They’d slept in the Yellow Room, which overlooked fields and a small stream in the distance. It was a beautiful place, which had made Peter want to move to the country. He’d even proposed leaving the Navy and moving somewhere near his parents’ home in Wiltshire. Kaisa had just laughed; she loved London and had decided never to move to a small place again, or to the countryside, where she’d feel out of touch and landlocked. She didn’t think Peter would enjoy it either, even though, as he’d reminded her at the time, he was ‘a country boy’.
Now Kaisa imagined Duncan sleeping in that same wrought-iron bed, looking over the same view of the fields and the stream.
‘Does he still have pneumonia?’ Kaisa had read that AIDS patients couldn’t fight off viruses.
‘Yes, he’s got a lung infection among other things. They’re trying out a set of different antibiotics at the moment.’
‘Oh,’ Kaisa said. She wondered if she should send him her love. No, not love, but perhaps regards? Instead she merely said, ‘I hope he gets better soon.’
Rose was quiet at the other end of the phone and Kaisa feared she’d said the wrong thing.
‘We wondered when you might be able to come down?’
Kaisa bit her lip. She had immediately regretted her promise to visit and had thought Rose would have forgotten, or rather, given up, on the thought of her going to see Duncan. It hadn’t been mentioned during their many conversations about Kaisa’s test.
‘Look, I’m sorry to do this to you, but there may not be much time,’ Rose said.
Kaisa could hear her voice falter. She looked at the wall calendar she kept above the telephone in the hall. In the next few days, there was a great big free space when she was off work. It was the week she and Peter had planned to take a little break, before he’d been selected for Perisher. They’d been planning to go and see his family in Wiltshire, but Peter had telephoned his parents over the weekend and told them the good news about the course, and the bad news about the visit. Kaisa didn’t want to go on her own, even though she overheard Peter’s mother suggesting she should. Kaisa had shaken her head silently at Peter as he stood in the hall, with the receiver half against his ear so that Kaisa could hear what his mother was saying. After all the years, Kaisa still didn’t feel conformable in his parents’ company. She felt sure his mother hadn’t forgiven what she’d done to her son during their first year of marriage.
Kaisa was now thinking hard. She could tell Peter she was going up to see Rose and Roger; the weather was hotting up and a heatwave was forecast. It would be a natural thing to want to get away from London, since she had the time off and he was busy with Perisher. And it wouldn’t be a lie.
‘OK, how about I come over tomorrow? I’m off work, so I could stay overnight.’
‘Kaisa, that’s wonderful! Will you take the first cheap train to Sherborne? I think it leaves at 10.15. I’ll come and pick you up from the station.’
That evening when Peter phoned Kaisa, she felt such relief. The threat of the virus had been lifted and now all she had to do was to see Duncan once, and then forget all about it. She no longer needed to feel as though she was lying to Peter.
‘How is it going, darling?’
‘Well,’ Peter said. ‘First sea time starts tomorrow.’
‘Ah, that’s perfect! I’m going to see Rose and Roger in Dorset. It’s getting unbearably hot and I’m off work, so I thought I might as well get out of town.’
‘That’s an excellent idea. I only wish I could have come with you,’ Peter said.
Kaisa was quiet, she didn’t know how to reply. She couldn’t say, ‘Me too,’ because that would be a blatant lie. How was she getting herself into these horrible situations?
‘Rose asked me and I couldn’t say no.’ That at least was the truth, Kaisa thought.
‘Well, have fun and think of me when you’re lying in that wonderful bed.’
Peter’s words reminded Kaisa of making love in the Yellow Room, and how the old wrought iron bed had squeaked so badly that they worried Rose and her husband would hear them.
‘I shan’t be putting those springs through the same pressure,’ Kaisa said and giggled.
Twelve
Kaisa spotted Rose as soon as she stepped off the train. She was wearing a summery dress with small pink flowers on it. Laura Ashley, Kaisa thought, and saw how she blended into the surroundings.
Sherborne station was a pretty, stone-built building, with hanging baskets overflowing with pink and blue flowers swaying in the faint breeze. By the time Kaisa’s train had pulled out of Waterloo, the sun had already been high in the sky and she’d had to move seats to get out of the glare. She’d begun the journey with great trepidation. She felt guilty about telling Peter only part of the story; and she feared what she might see when she met Duncan. That image of the father with his dying son kept popping into her brain, however much she tried to shoo it away.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ Rose said.
She’d flung Kaisa’s overnight bag in the back of an old, muddy Land Rover, and was now sitting in the driver’s seat, leaning towards the windscreen as she negotiated a small roundabout.
The back of the car bore testament to Rose’s two Labradors: there were dog hairs all over old checked throws. Was this really the same woman who used to wear high heels and was so adept at hailing cabs on the London streets? Kaisa marvelled at the change in her friend; here, in the country, she seemed freer somehow, definitely more at home, but also more in control. Rose had always been the strong woman in Kaisa’s life, her career role model in many ways, so it still took her by surprise to see how much the country life suited her.
But Rose’s words and her grave face reminded Kaisa why she was here.
‘How is he?’
‘Duncan is strong, so we’re hopeful.’
While they were driving along narrow roads, bordered by high hedges with the occasional purple flowers, foxgloves she thought they were called, sticking out of them, Kaisa hoped her image of a dying man was not what she’d find in Rose’s Yellow Room.
As soon as she entered the white-clad house, which Rose and Roger referred to as ‘The Cottage’ even though it was at least twice the size of Kaisa’s terraced house in Notting Hill, Kaisa felt there was a different atmosphere.
When she’d visited with Peter, the house had been filled with light and laughter; one of the dogs had been a puppy then and had peed on the floor after Kaisa bent down to stroke and play with it. They had all chuckled and Roger had pulled the poor little puppy out of the house by the scruff of its neck, calling it a ‘naughty girl’ and putting on a stern face. He’d then made stiff gin and tonics for them all.
Rose had produced a huge salad and Roger had grilled steaks on the barbecue. They’d sat in the garden until dusk fell, watching the birds fly about, listening to their nocturnal singing, drinking wine and talking. When it grew fully dark, they’d moved inside to sit in Rose’s large kitchen until the early hours, drinking a bottle of rather good whisky that Roger had pulled out of the drinks cabinet.
Now the kitchen looked cold and gloomy, in spite of the full sunshine outside. Roger sat at the table, drinking coffee out of a large mug. Even the two dogs seemed subdued, greeting Kaisa with a couple of sniffs and lazy wags of their tails. There was a smell of disinfectant, and when Rose’s husband stood up to greet Kaisa, his face was serious. ‘So good of you to come,’ Roger said and k
issed Kaisa on both cheeks.
‘I wanted to,‘ Kaisa lied and set down her bag.
‘Oh, let me take that. You’re in the Pink Room at the back of the cottage.’ Roger turned and kissed Rose on the mouth. ‘You OK, love?’
‘Did he have the soup?’
Roger shook his head. The two stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Then Rose turned towards Kaisa, ‘Look, Roger will take you to your room and you can freshen up if you want. Are you hungry? Come down when you’re ready and I’ll make us a sandwich.’
Kaisa nodded and followed Roger upstairs. On the landing, she saw the door to the Yellow Room was slightly ajar. She glanced at Roger, who took hold of her arm and gently guided her along the landing. The Pink Room was opposite Roger and Rose’s bedroom.
‘There’s your bathroom just next door. I’m sorry this one doesn’t have an en suite,’ Roger said and left her alone.
Kaisa sat on the bed and looked out of the window. This side of the house overlooked the farmland beyond. Nearest to the back of the building was an overgrown orchard. Ripe plums were hanging from a couple of trees next to a stone wall separating the house from the track that led from the narrow road. The rest of the orchard had apple trees, scattered higgledy-piggledy around an area at least four times the size of Kaisa’s garden. Beyond the orchard was a field of rapeseed, its yellow flowers stark against the blue skies. The view was breathtaking and Kaisa wondered how a world that had produced such beauty could also produce an illness like AIDS. She overheard steps on the landing and there was a knock on the door.
‘Kaisa, are you OK?’ Rose came into the room. She was carrying towels and placed them on the bed. ‘Sorry, forgot to give you these.’
‘Thank you,’ Kaisa said. ‘How is he, really?’
Rose sat on the bed next to Kaisa. ‘I’m worried because he’s just not eating very much. And he needs to, to get better and to take the tablets. Otherwise, his tummy gets upset.’
