The Island Affair

by Helena Halme

  Her reticence is soon rewarded.

  Patrick leans back in his chair and rubs his chin with his hand. He is gazing over Alicia's shoulder through the tall windows overlooking the sea.

  'She met someone last year. A successful businessman like her father. Not a useless liberal journalist like her husband. They all knew about it long before I did.'

  'When did you find out?' Alicia asks, trying to control her voice.

  Patrick looks at her again, but doesn't say anything.

  And then Alicia knows.

  Anger and jealousy again rise inside Alicia and she forces herself to breathe normally. She feels used. She gets up, but Patrick takes hold of her wrist.

  'Please, I can explain. You don't understand.'

  'No need, it's all clear. You got bad news and decided to take revenge with the first available woman. I'm glad I could be helpful.' She can hear the emotion in her voice and is ashamed. Her voice is trembling, she's sure of it. She has to get out. She moves toward the elevator again, the second time that evening.

  'You’ve got it all wrong!' Patrick says. When Alicia doesn't reply, he continues, ‘At least let me drive you home.'

  Alicia lets out a dry laugh, 'Please don't feel obliged!'

  But when she sees the expression on Patrick's face she once again changes her mind. He looks so drawn, so miserable, that she feels sorry for him. They have both used each other. Why did she allow herself to be kissed on Midsummer Eve? And why did she go willingly with him on a picnic to the archipelago? Wasn't it as much an act of revenge for her as she now knows it was for Patrick?

  They ride down the lift in silence, and do not speak during the fifteen-minute drive to Sjoland. As they cross the bridge, Alicia is about to ask Patrick to drop her off a few meters from the sauna cottage so that they won't be seen from Hilda and Uffe's house, but then decides against it. Patrick doesn't care who knows about them, and neither does she. Not now. Besides, this affair isn't going to carry on, so it really doesn't matter. Alicia can always say that Patrick was among the people she’d spent the evening with if her mother or Uffe sees her get out of Patrick's fancy car. She will think of something.

  She turns her head to look at Patrick's profile as he drives on the empty road. It's not dark even though it's gone 9pm, and she can see glimpses of the sea on the left-hand side of the road as it dips close to the shore. They are nearly at her sauna cottage.

  'Turn left down the track there,' she points to a small turning.

  As she gets out of the car, she bends down at the open door and asks, 'Does Mia know about me?'

  Patrick looks at her and says, 'You really don't think much of me, do you?'

  'Thank you for the ride,' Alicia says and closes the door.

  As she walks along the lane toward the sea and the sauna cottage, she can hear the engine of Patrick's car as he reverses up the small bank to the road. She is relieved to see that there are no lights on in the cottage. At least her mother isn't sitting there waiting for her. She gets the key from its hiding place under the flower pot on the decking and unlocks the door. It isn't until she's inside the cottage, lying on her sofa bed, that she relaxes and stretches out. What an evening!

  * * *

  Uffe is still up, sitting in his office, gazing at the sea, when he sees an unfamiliar car turn into the sauna cottage. His guts churn when he sees it's a black Mercedes. Surely Dudnikov wouldn't put the frighteners on his step-daughter too? Moments later, he can see the light in the cottage come on, and the car pull out and head back on the road to Mariehamn. He spots a blond man in the driving seat of the open-top car and feels such relief when he sees it is the Eriksson's son-in-law that he almost laughs out loud.

  Thirty-Six

  The water is cold, but Alicia likes it just so. She dives in, letting the chilling water run over her face, arms and legs. The freezing sea clears her mind and forces her to move her body faster, emptying her head of any other thoughts but the sensation of her heart pumping quicker, making the blood course through her veins. Soon, she feels as one with the water and begins to enjoy her own speed, her own agility. Alicia takes long strokes, and slowly the chill diminishes and disappears. Now the sea around her seems warmly embracing. This is the part she most enjoys; when her body acclimatizes and she feels strong and confident in her own ability in the water. She wonders if she could swim all the way to Finland. Stopping at the many islands on the way, she is sure she could do it. She tries to remember if anyone has attempted such a race, like swimming across the English Channel. Perhaps she could be the first, she thinks, when she finds herself near the shipping lane about a kilometer from the shore. Wonder what Patrick would think if I swam to Finland, she smiles.

  Don't think about him!

  Alicia turns back and sees the reeds along the shoreline swaying in the wind, either side of the jetty, where Uffe has cut them right down. She's swam farther than she's ever done before but decides to carry on. She has tons of energy left in her body; she could swim until she reaches a small inlet on the other side of the open water. She could rest there until she has to turn back.

  These early morning swims are her favorite hour of the day on the islands. When Stefan was small, this was the only time during the family holidays when she could please herself, stop being mum and just be Alicia.

  When Stefan was older, she would slip out of the house, safe in the knowledge that either Liam (if he was there—he often came over for just a day or two during the summer, while Alicia and Stefan spent weeks on the islands) or her mother would occupy Stefan while she was in the sea. She'd walk slowly down to the shore, listening to the birds and slip into the cold water.

  As she remembers, the calmness of the morning is suddenly broken by a loud motorboat, and a triangle of wash around and behind it cuts the scenery in half. She sees there's a Russian flag at the stern. Alicia stops and treads water. She realizes she may be in danger if she goes out any further. The boat looks far too close to her and has no intention of changing course.

  Suddenly alarmed, Alicia turns around and dives as deep as she can. Holding her breath, she concentrates on moving her legs and arms in a breaststroke just as her swimming teacher on the islands taught her all those years ago. 'It's all about the rhythm,' she had said. 'Keep the strokes strong and use your hands as paddles. Kick hard to propel your body, keeping the arms long. Don't rush and you'll go faster.'

  She hears the deep hum of the engines roar above her.

  When Alicia surfaces, she turns around and watches the boat make its speedy way toward the Sjoland canal. She can see a lone man at the helm. Didn't he spot her in the water?

  She takes a deep breath before making her way back toward the shore.

  Back on the wooden jetty, panting, she sits down and wraps a towel around her shoulders. Listening to the sounds of the sea birds all around her, Alicia closes her eyes and lets the sun warm her face. There is now a thin layer of cloud shading the sun, but the rays are still warming on her skin. She realizes she hasn't thought about Stefan for the past few minutes, while concentrating on getting back to the shore. She has also not let Patrick and his problems into her mind.

  It's over, she's convinced of it. She is ashamed that she let herself be seduced by someone like that, but she was vulnerable, so she must forgive herself.

  Whatever he says, Liam is probably at this very moment back in the arms of his nurse, so why shouldn't she try out another man? But Alicia cannot help but feel dirty and used; more than anything she feels stupid for thinking a man like Patrick would find her attractive and desirable. Images of their love-making—or sex—onboard the boat flash in front of her eyes. It did seem as if he was into her, but Alicia's emotions may have been blinded by her own desire. Alicia lifts her legs up and wraps her hands and the towel around her knees. She decides to ignore Patrick from now on. She has enough worries with Hilda and Uffe. How is she going to be able to broach the subject of money with her mother without a huge argument? Perhaps she should talk to
Uffe instead?

  Thirty-Seven

  'I hear you're sleeping with my husband,' Mia stands with her arms crossed outside the newspaper office.

  It's a Monday morning, past ten o'clock, and Alicia is running late because her mother has overslept. Reeking of alcohol, Hilda had allowed Alicia to drive. It wasn't Alicia's day in the newspaper office, but her mother should already have been in the shop, especially now that she’d given notice to her assistant to 'save money'. Getting her mother together and on the road was a novelty. As Alicia parked the car and said goodbye to her outside the little boutique, she resolved to talk to Uffe as soon as possible.

  That morning when she saw Hilda's red-rimmed eyes she knew she needed to ask her what was going on, but she was preoccupied by a message she’d received from Harri earlier that morning. The body of a boy had been found in the waters around Sjoland, near the sauna cottage, and he needed Alicia to cover the story. She wondered if she should inform him that she had never reported on crime, but Harri was the editor, and she wanted to make a good impression, so she typed 'I'm on my way,' got dressed quickly and ran to the main house to see if Hilda had yet left for work.

  Now Alicia, her head already full of concerns for her mother and the story she is required to cover but doesn't know how to write, regards Mia. She's wearing a huge pair of dark sunglasses, red lipstick and a sleek trouser suit. Not exactly summer wear for the islands; more like an office outfit one would wear in Stockholm or London.

  'I'm sorry, I'm running late,' Alicia says and she tries to walk around Mia to reach the door to the newspaper office.

  Mia steps in front of her again and leans in to speak, close to Alicia's ear, 'I always knew you were a little tart. At school you'd go around with that blond head of yours held high, like a primadonna, as if you were somebody. Which you weren't. And then after you moved to London, you blanked me every time I saw you in town.'

  Alicia sees how angry the woman is but she has no time for her now. Besides, she couldn't give a monkeys about Patrick and his little domestic argument. She is well out of it.

  'Look, I don't know what's going on, but I need to get to work.'

  'Are you, or are you not, sleeping with my husband?' Mia asks. 'I demand an answer.'

  Who's being a primadonna now?

  Alicia tries to keep calm. Mia has her arms crossed and appears taller than Alicia, and she wonders briefly how come she doesn't remember her being so lanky at school, but then she notices the sky-high heels.

  'No,' Alicia replies, trying to look Mia in the eyes through her dark lenses. She knows this is a half-lie, but at the same time, she has no intention of sleeping with Patrick again.

  Her reply seems to take Mia aback and she doesn't stop Alicia as she walks around her and into the Ålandsbladet building.

  'You're a liar,' she hears Mia shriek behind her back, but Alicia quickly runs up the stairs. She hopes the woman will not follow her. A scene with the jealous daughter of the owner in front of the editor is all she needs.

  * * *

  When Alicia enters the open-plan office, the first person she sees through the glass of the editor's office in the far corner is Patrick. He's standing opposite Harri's desk, with the leather satchel slung across his jacket. He's nodding to something Harri is saying. Neither he nor the editor have spotted Alicia yet.

  What the hell is he doing here—again?

  Alicia steadies herself and walks confidently past Frida and another junior reporter, who are both watching her. She nods to them and opens the door into Harri's glass cubicle.

  Patrick doesn't look surprised to see her. He glances at her without smiling and she nearly asks him, 'Do you know your wife is downstairs accosting reporters on their way to work?' but her thoughts are interrupted when Harri says, 'Oh, good, you're here. Patrick has offered to take you to the crime scene on his boat.'

  Alicia meet's Patrick's eyes. His hair is ruffled, which makes him look even more handsome than usual. She notices he has shaved this morning.

  When Alicia doesn't say anything, Harri asks, 'Did you read the police report I sent you?' 'Yes,' Alicia replies. She had quickly scanned it while waiting for Hilda to get ready.

  'Off you go then,' Harri says. He's gazing at both her and Patrick in turn, and Alicia is sure he's noticed the tension between them. When neither moves, Harri adds, 'Everything OK?'

  'Yes,' both Patrick and Alicia say in turn.

  'Get a move on then!'

  Thirty-Eight

  'You OK?' Patrick asks and touches Alicia's elbow.

  They are out of the office and walking down the stairs. His touch through the thin fabric of her cotton blouse runs through her body.

  How am I to resist this man?

  'Sure, but I ran into Mia outside the office,' she says, trying to pour cold water over both his tenderness and her own weakness.

  Patrick stops and stares at her, 'What, where?'

  'Outside, just now.'

  Patrick runs his hand over his face and Alicia notices that he's cut himself shaving again. There is a small nick at the side of his face, and a stream of blood has run down his chin where he has rubbed it.

  'You're bleeding...' Alicia says, taking a tissue out of her handbag and, after a moment's hesitation, handing it to Patrick rather than wiping his chin herself. She touches the side of her own face to indicate where the mark is.

  'Ah, thanks,' Patrick says and rubs the tissue against his face.

  'You OK?' Alicia asks.

  'Yeah,' Patrick says. He crunches the napkin in his palm and gazes at Alicia. She sees he too has red-rimmed eyes much like her mother. Has everyone else on the islands been binge-drinking overnight, Alicia wonders.

  'I didn't go home last night—I mean home to the Eriksson's summer place,' Patrick says. His voice is quiet.

  'Right,' Alicia says and carries on walking down the stairs, but Patrick stops her, taking hold of her arm again.

  'What happened with Mia?'

  Alicia is suddenly weary, fed up with being these wealthy people's piggy in the middle.

  'Nothing,' she replies and frees herself from Patrick's grip. 'You coming?' she says over her shoulder and hears Patrick following her down the stairs. When they reach street level, she's relieved to see Mia is no longer there.

  'The boat is docked in the East Harbor,' Patrick says and he chin nods toward the sea.

  'I know,' Alicia replies.

  Patrick gives Alicia a quick glance. 'Of course you do,' Patrick says and grins.

  * * *

  Patrick and Alicia hardly say a word to each to other on the way to the harbor. When they get to the moorings, Patrick offers Alicia his hand, but she lowers herself onto the boat without as much as a glance at him. When she's onboard she avoids looking at the ladder leading to the cabin below. She is trying hard not to think about the day they spent in the bunk, wrapped around each other.

  Harri has given them a grid reference for the place where the body has been found. At the Sjoland canal they see a police boat. Patrick nods to the three shapes onboard the other vessel. As they leave the canal, and speed up toward the open sea, Patrick says to Alicia, 'We can't go as fast, but I know the way.'

  Alicia nods. She digs out a hairband from her handbag and ties her hair back to avoid the wind blowing it into her face.

  Moments later, they dock on the side of a small rocky island, right next to the police boat. The three police officers are gathering equipment on top of a small hill. Alicia sees one of them walk toward the edge of the island, holding some police tape. His head dips down as he climbs down the bank.

  A policewoman turns around as they step off the yacht. 'It's Alicia, isn't it?'

  'Hi,' Alicia replies and adds, 'I didn't know you'd moved back to Åland, Ebba?'

  'Likewise.'

  Alicia walks the few paces along a rocky island and regards the policewoman. She's wearing a midnight-blue police overall and white rubber gloves. She's changed since their schooldays and looks more ass
ured, a little more filled out, although she is still lanky and a head taller than Alicia. Her dark hair is cut short and she isn't wearing any makeup at all, which makes her look freshly scrubbed. When, years ago, she bumped into Ebba in the corridors of Uppsala university and heard that she too was studying there (criminology, while Alicia was studying English), she thought they might become closer friends, but somehow it didn’t happen. She heard later that Ebba was working with the Stockholm Police.

  Alicia is brought back to the present by Ebba's voice. She's issuing commands to the other policeman. There are two men standing next to her old schoolfriend, one an older man, wearing shorts and carrying a case, and another one, a younger male police officer in an all-blue overall like Ebba's.

  'Simon, you help Gustav with the body and take the pictures. I'll deal with the press.'

  * * *

  'Where's the body?' Patrick asks Ebba. He is standing next to Alicia, and she is trying to ignore the effect the closeness of his body has on her. They are facing Ebba, who has her eyes on Alicia and Patrick, regarding them gravely.

  'How did you know about this?' Ebba asks.

  Patrick smiles, 'Oh, come on, Ebba, we get live police reports.'

  'You two know each other?' Alicia asks, glancing at Patrick and then at Ebba.

  'Everyone knows everyone else here, surely you know that?' Ebba says drily, and adds, 'But you've made a wasted visit. I can't let you near before we've made our investigations. And definitely no pictures,' she says as she sees Patrick dig his mobile out of his pocket.

  'Just for my own reference?' Patrick replies, holding firmly onto his phone.