by Helena Halme
Kaisa found another place near the Helsinki train station, where they ordered some food. She watched Peter eat a steak, while she picked at a salad.
Over the meal he told her about his childhood, how he didn’t do as well at school as he should have done. ‘I was very lazy,’ he said. His father wanted him to join the Navy, and he did that as soon as he could after finishing school. ‘And I love it,’ he said, and smiled.
Kaisa in turn told him about her childhood, about all the schools she’d been to, about how her family moved to Stockholm when she was eleven, after which she’d hardly spent more than a year in one school.
‘How many languages do you speak?’
‘Just Swedish and English, and a little bit of French and German. And Finnish, obviously.’
‘Wow,’ Peter said.
‘But my English isn’t so good,’ she said.
‘You speak English wonderfully – I love your accent.’
Kaisa could feel her face grow hot and was afraid she’d blushed. She lowered her eyes. Peter took hold of her hands and bent over the table, closer to her. ‘I love everything about you.’
‘You mustn’t say that.’ Kaisa could feel Peter’s fingers over the ring on her left hand.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m engaged to be married.’
She saw Peter glance down at her left finger, with the white and yellow gold band on it, and let go of her hands.
There was a silence. Kaisa held her breath. This would surely be it; next he’ll say he has to get back to the ship. Kaisa stared at a piece of lettuce on her plate. It had gone brown at the edges.
At last Peter said, ‘But you’re not married.’
She looked into his dark eyes; again Kaisa felt like she could sink into them, ‘No.’
Kaisa was so relieved Peter still wanted to be with her even though he now knew that by being here with him she was betraying another man. She knew she should be strong and go back to her fiancé, but something pulled her back to this foreign man. She knew he’d leave soon and then would never see him again; still she remained there, fiddling with her engagement band, rooted to her seat.
‘So…you could come and see me in England?’ Peter said.
‘No, that’s impossible,’ Kaisa replied without thinking.
Peter took her hands into his again. His lips had turned up at the corners into a bright smile, ‘I told you – nothing is impossible!’
Kaisa smiled too. Peter began to lean towards her, but just then a waiter came over and, looking at Kaisa’s half-full plate of salad, asked if they’d finished. ‘Yes,’ Kaisa said. The waiter turned to Peter, pointed at his empty glass of beer and asked in Finnish if he wanted another one. Kaisa exchanged glances with Peter. The waiter was being rude on purpose; surely he’d heard them speaking in English.
‘We’re fine – just the bill please,’ Kaisa said in Finnish.
After the meal they did all the things would-be lovers with nowhere to go do. They walked along the Esplanade under the steel-coloured sky, flitted from one Helsinki bar to another. Kaisa was petrified that they’d meet someone she knew, especially as Peter, a handsome English naval officer, insisted on holding her close to him. So she steered him to places where her boyfriend’s posh family were unlikely to go. Of course, they bumped into his shipmates everywhere they went, inducing hilarity and cheering.
In Happy Days, a large bar that had opened only a few weeks before, Peter told Kaisa his commanding officer had warned him about her.
‘What do you mean?’
‘There are honey traps, you know.’
When Kaisa looked at him, not comprehending what he was talking about, he added, ‘KGB agents posing as beautiful young women to trap young officers.’
Kaisa laughed. She had to. Her as a KGB agent! In Helsinki! ‘But I’m not,’ she said and put her hand on his arm resting on the table.
‘I know you’re not. Very few of these honey traps wear an engagement ring, for one.’ He laughed and made Kaisa smile too.
‘So you noticed the ring from the start!’ she said.
He nodded.
‘But how, if you knew…’
Peter shrugged his shoulders and took her hand between his. ‘I couldn’t help myself. You’re very beautiful.’
Kaisa stared at him. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘And we sail tomorrow,’ Peter said. His eyes had grown even darker and Kaisa had to look away to stop herself from leaning over to kiss him.
It became embarrassing to stay inside the restaurant without ordering more food or drink, so they got up and once again braved the cold weather in Esplanade Park. At least it had stopped snowing. They sheltered from the chill wind by the statue of Eino Leino, the Finnish poet. Kaisa tried to remember some of his romantic works, but all she could recall was a verse from a poem about old age that she had to study at school, ‘Haihtuvi nuoruus niinkuin vierivä virta’. Kaisa translated for Peter, ‘Youth disappears as fast as a river flows.’ She looked up at the imposing figure, with its heavy cape, and wondered if the great man was trying to tell her something. The park was deserted and they were standing in the shadow of the statue. Kaisa was sure no one would be able to see them, and relaxed a little.
‘You’re lovely,’ Peter said, and he took Kaisa into his embrace. She forgot all about the poem, or being cold, or her boyfriend’s family. She felt safe in Peter’s arms. He took Kaisa’s face between his hands and kissed her. She kissed him back. He held her tight, kissing her neck, and lips again. His hands, now warmed by her body, were moving around inside Kaisa’s jumper; she didn’t tell him to stop. Kaisa couldn’t resist him. She felt his desire hard against her thigh and she wanted him so much her body ached.
‘Can’t we go to your flat?’ Peter asked breathlessly.
‘My boyfriend might be there.’ Kaisa freed herself a little from his grip, ‘He has a key.’
But Peter insisted; it felt as if he was expecting her to say no but eventually give in, if he kept at her. At last she had to tell him her fiancé had a hobby: guns. ‘He has a favourite handgun, which he sometimes carries.’
Peter stared at her, but didn’t ask about the flat again.
Kaisa’s last bus was due to leave soon, and Peter said he would walk her to the stop. ‘I’ll write, and you must promise to write back to me,’ he said, and took Kaisa’s hand. They walked slowly along the Boulevard, huddled against the cold. The wind swept hard along the tree-lined street and they had to hold each other close to keep warm. When Kaisa saw her bus turn a corner from Mannerheim Street, she felt tearful but swallowed her emotions and forced a smile. Peter took hold of her chin and looking into her eyes said, ‘We’ll see each other again, I promise.’ He pulled something out of the pocket of his coat and gave it to her. ‘It’s a tape of a band I really like, the Pretenders. The best track is Brass in Pocket. I want you to have this.’
Kaisa couldn’t speak; she held tightly onto the cassette.
‘Something to remember me by,’ he said and kissed her again.
The bus stopped and Kaisa tried to pull herself away from Peter. He held onto her hand and wouldn’t let go. ‘One more,’ he said and they embraced again. Kaisa saw the bus driver shrug. He closed the doors and pulled away.
‘That was the last one!’ she said, and they both laughed.
When, past midnight, Peter put her into a taxi, and Kaisa was alone, she finally let herself cry. She knew she’d never see the Englishman again.
Five
Kaisa dreaded going back to her flat. She wondered briefly if she should get the taxi driver to take her to her friend’s place in in town instead. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning; she couldn’t wake her up now. But she wanted to hold onto the image of Peter, preserve the feel of his kisses, to not lose the smell of him on her. Yet she knew she had to come clean to her fiancé at some point. When Kaisa opened the door she sighed with relief. There were no lights on. The flat was empty. She put the chain across the door and
leant back against it. She had another night to dream about Peter before having to confront her boyfriend.
Kaisa jumped when she heard Matti call her name. He was sitting in the dark on her bed, wearing a pair of brown cords and an Icelandic sweater that Kaisa had knitted last Christmas. Kaisa hung back in the doorway, not knowing what to say, or do.
Matti stood up and grabbed her arm, ‘Where have you been?’ His brown hair was neatly combed to one side and his eyes looked darker than usual. He wasn’t smiling.
When Kaisa told Matti about Peter he was quiet. So she talked more, trying to explain, ‘I know he’s a stranger, but it feels like I’ve known him all my life.’
Matti slumped back down onto the bed. He didn’t say anything, but made a noise as if she’d stabbed him. Kaisa carried on talking, ‘I didn’t go to the cocktail party in order to meet someone. It was just an accident.’
‘Accident!’ Matti’s voice was shrill. Suddenly her fiancé, who Kaisa had known for four years to be a calm, controlled man, was shouting at her.
‘You saw him again!’ he bellowed. ‘You’re no better than those girls who hang around ports, prostituting themselves to sailors. How much did he pay you?’
‘We didn’t do anything!’
‘Oh yeah? You expect me to believe you!’
Kaisa was scared. She’d never seen her fiancé like this. In spite of his love of guns, he was not a violent man. He was seven years older than Kaisa, and she guessed that had been part of his attraction. While the boys at school drank too much and hardly remembered what they’d done with you the night before, Matti would cook a wonderful meal, or take Kaisa for long walks in the forest, or read her poems. He was never in a hurry and he never did anything without considering the consequences. And he’d never said a cross word to her. Until now.
‘You know he’ll have a girl like you in every port.’
Kaisa felt sick. She was so tired that tears were running down her face. How long had they been sitting there on her bed, fully clothed?
‘And what do you know about him – nothing! I bet you’ll never set eyes on him again,’ Matti said.
Kaisa sobbed. She couldn’t look at him.
Suddenly Matti’s tone changed, ‘So what are you going to do?’
Kaisa looked at the brown eyes. It was as if the man she knew so well was back again.
‘I don’t know.’
They were both silent for a long time. Kaisa could hear a solitary car somewhere in the distance. She wished she was in it, she wished she was anywhere else but here.
Matti put his arm over Kaisa’s shoulders. ‘Let’s get into bed.’ He was pleading now. Kaisa nodded. It was late. She grabbed her nightdress and went into the bathroom. She needed to be alone. In his fury, her fiancé had expressed her own worries. What did she know about the Englishman? Peter was young, the same age as her. They had laughed when they found out they were born in the same year and month – just 18 days apart. He didn’t have a girlfriend, but he’d been writing to someone. Kaisa hated the girl already. Peter was tall, dark and handsome. He loved books and believed that character is fate. He told Kaisa to read Thomas Hardy. His lips were the softest and strongest she’d ever kissed. He laughed a lot, and when he did his eyes sparkled. He looked at Kaisa as if he wanted to wrap her up to protect her, and devour her, all at the same time.
Kaisa realised she’d never felt like this before. This was love. The stuff she’d read about in books since she was a teenager; the films she’d watched. This was how Ali MacGraw felt about Ryan O’Neal in Love Story, and Barbra Streisand about Robert Redford in The Way We Were. Kaisa grinned. She’d wanted to pose the same question to Peter that Katie had in the film to Hubbell, ‘Do you smile ALL the time?’
As she sat on the toilet seat, shivering in her thin nightwear, Kaisa couldn’t remove the image of Peter from her head. His smile, his dark eyes, his warm mouth. She sighed, flushed the empty toilet and ran the water for a second or two. She didn’t want her boyfriend to guess what she’d been doing in here – daydreaming about Peter.
Matti was already in bed. When Kaisa lay beside him, he turned his face close to her. His breath was hot on her and she knew what he wanted. ‘I’m really tired,’ she said as gently as she could, and turned her back to him. Kaisa could feel Matti’s body tense. He was lying on his back and from his breathing she knew his eyes were open. Kaisa curled herself into a ball and forced her eyes shut. She felt his body move and press against hers, but she remained motionless until his breathing was steady and she knew he was asleep.
In the morning Kaisa woke early and went to make some coffee. She felt as if she hadn’t slept a wink. The scene out of the little kitchen window was miserable; a hard drizzle was beating against the window pane. It was almost sleet. There was no one on the street below, and only a few lights shone brightly from the block of flats opposite. It was too early on a Saturday morning. She thought about Peter on board his ship. Had they sailed already? He’d said they’d leave early but not at what time. For a mad second Kaisa thought she’d get dressed and go to the harbour to wave him goodbye. How wonderful it would be to see him once more – she imagined his surprise when he spotted her on the quayside. Then she remembered her boyfriend, asleep in the bed next door. All her clothes were in the bedroom, and he would want to know where she was off to. Kaisa shivered when she thought about what he might do to stop her from meeting Peter again. Matti had woken up in the middle of the night, and seeing her awake had said, ‘You know if I ever set my eyes on that sailor I’ll kill him.’
The coffee machine started making gurgling noises and when Kaisa turned around she was startled by Matti’s large, looming figure. He was standing, fully dressed, in the open doorway to the kitchenette. He took a step forward and put his hands around Kaisa’s waist.
‘Coffee’s nearly ready,’ she said and turned away from him. She felt his strong grip on her skin and felt sick. What was happening to her? It was as if overnight she’d morphed into another person; a stupid girl who believed a foreign sailor loved her. Kaisa pushed her boyfriend’s hands away and fled to the bedroom. She closed the door behind her and got dressed quickly.
Returning to the lounge, Kaisa saw Matti’s wide back. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, facing the window.
‘Breakfast?’ she tried to sound normal, cheerful even.
He didn’t reply. He didn’t even move. Kaisa put out some ham and cheese and sliced the last piece of cucumber she had in the fridge. She’d bought some wheaten rolls from the small bakery opposite the bank a couple of days ago and decided they were still soft enough to eat. She sat down and waited for Matti. Eventually he turned slowly around and sat in his usual place opposite Kaisa, at the small table in one corner of the room.
‘So, are you coming to the cottage with us?’
She looked at her fiancé. He was holding half a roll in his hand, delicately balancing the cheese and two pieces of cucumber on top with his index finger. His face was serious, as if he was asking whether, with her new-found career as the local harlot, she’d given up all decent activities, such as taking his mother to the summer place. Every weekend between May and October – if the weather wasn’t too bad – Matti would drive to Haapamäki, two hours north, where they’d spend the weekend in the summer cottage.
Kaisa looked down at her plate. She’d forgotten all about the trip. When she didn’t reply, Matti said, ‘What shall I tell Mother?’
Kaisa shivered. ‘OK,’ she sighed. All she wanted to do was stay at home and think about Peter; perhaps go and see Tuuli and tell her all about the wonderful evening she’d spent with him. But she knew that if she didn’t go to the cottage she’d never hear the end of it. Matti wouldn’t lie to his mother, so she couldn’t even ask him to say she was ill. (Although she truly didn’t feel well.) Kaisa shook her head. What did she think was going to happen with Peter anyway? He was in the British Royal Navy and she lived in Finland. He sailed all over the world, met many prett
y girls. Kaisa needed to be realistic, to get back to normal. The cottage had to be made ready for the winter, when no one visited. She’d promised to help her boyfriend rake up the leaves, and had told his mother she’d help pack away the fine china and glasses. Every spring his mother brought a box of ‘her things’ to the cabin, and every autumn she made Matti carry the same box back again. This weekend was the last one they’d spend in the cottage and she had to keep her promise and go.
Six
The three of them drove up north in almost total silence. As usual Kaisa was in the back seat while Matti’s mother sat in the front. Kaisa didn’t know how to make conversation; all she wanted to do was stare out of the window at the greying landscape. The autumn colours were almost over; when they got out of Helsinki, a few trees by the roadside had crops of yellow leaves still clutching the branches. The sight of them added to Kaisa’s sense of hopelessness. Matti’s mother sat at the front and for the first few minutes tried to make conversation. ‘How are your studies going?’
‘I’m not back at university yet.’ She knew this; how come she always asked the same question?
‘That’s a very long summer holiday!’ Mother exclaimed and tried to turn to face Kaisa, but could bend her fair head only slightly towards the back seat. Matti’s mother wasn’t a well woman; she had rheumatism and made few trips without her son. She was quite large, but had very thin ankles and wrists, the way women who had once been slight do when they put on weight in older age. Her hair was carefully coiffured but thin; through the few strands of the up-do Kaisa could make out the pink of her skull. Today she was wearing very little make-up: only dusty pink lipstick and black eyeliner that had been shakily applied. Kaisa often wondered if she should help Mother with her make-up, but was afraid to offer in case she got angry.
At last they drove up the narrow country lane and turned into the cleared bit of land in front of the low-slung building. It was a typical Finnish summer cottage construction; clad with planks of timber and perching on blocks of concrete set to each corner of the cabin. Kaisa hated the dark recess of the house and was sure creepy crawlies, perhaps even snakes, lived in the damp soil underneath. The cabin itself was painted pale yellow and had large windows looking out to the lake. There were three rooms, a largish lounge with a table and four chairs and two small rattan sofas facing each other, with cushions covered in matching pink-and-purple flower-patterned fabric. The whole room had a red tinge in the early afternoon light. The main room had doors to two small bedrooms on one side, and a small kitchen on the other. The front door led directly to the kitchen, so if you were cooking at the old electric stove and someone came in, you had to move to let them pass. Washing-up was equally problematic, but Matti’s mother wouldn’t hear of using disposable dinnerware. Kaisa often stood at the sink after lunch, when the sun was beaming down outside, wanting to sunbathe instead of watching Matti’s mother pass her the dirty plates. Mother’s hands were swollen from rheumatism, but her long fingernails were perfectly manicured and painted with pink polish. They made her very clumsy but she wouldn’t hear of letting Kaisa do the washing-up on her own. During the whole long procedure Kaisa dreaded there’d be another accident and a broken plate or glass to clear up from the floor.
