‘This Pro Tem Head Sievänen arranged a composting toilet training session for the residents, can you imagine? At the end they passed the jars out and we all trundled off, carrying our chamber pots to our apartments. It took Tauno all day. You’re supposed to pee into a separate chamber, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out how to direct my stream into it. Fortunately, Ms Sievänen didn’t provide a demonstration. Have you tried your potty out yet, Siiri?’
‘Oh, it can’t be that difficult,’ Siiri said. ‘We’ve all had plenty of practice using more primitive set-ups. Tauno told me that he didn’t have his first indoor toilet until after the war, when he moved to the city to look for work.’
But their babbling did little to improve Anna-Liisa’s spirits, and Siiri didn’t dare pull out the mahogany jewellery box. She was holding a bouquet they’d bought at the best florist in Munkkiniemi, the one next to the upper Low Price Market, or UpLow. The florist always wanted to know who would be getting the flowers and what the occasion was, and when they’d informed her that the recipient was the ninety-four-year-old victim of a plumbing retrofit, she had whipped up a cheery orange bouquet. But there wasn’t a vase in sight.
‘I’ll go and look for a vase; you keep Anna-Liisa company,’ Siiri said. Irma dived right into a detailed description of the composting commodes, and Siiri stepped out into the corridor.
She heard cheerful chatter coming from the nurses’ desk, where six staff members sat at the computer, watching videos of cats doing silly things. Siiri watched one with them. It was of a cat falling into a bathtub, trying to climb out, and panicking as it kept slipping back in.
‘Excuse me, where could I find a vase for this bouquet?’ she asked, once the video was over and the cat had made it out of the tub, looking sheepish. A pretty nurse with dark skin rose and showed Siiri a cupboard where she could have her pick of tin jars. Siiri chose one and the nurse filled it with water and put the flowers in it.
‘Who are these for?’
The nurse knew Anna-Liisa, and said she was a good patient.
‘What makes for a good patient?’ Siiri asked out of curiosity.
‘I mean, Anna-Liisa is very nice to us nurses. Not everyone is. That’s all I can say; we have to respect patient confidentiality.’
Siiri went back to Anna-Liisa’s room and nearly had a heart attack when she stepped in. Irma was sitting at the window, and the sun-bronzed Ambassador was standing next to the bed in his summer suit. He had materialized from out of the blue to visit his spouse, who was sound asleep and, thus, oblivious to the return of her Peer Gynt. Siiri felt like giving this deserter a piece of her mind, but the Ambassador gazed at his slumbering, emaciated Anna-Liisa with such attentiveness that the words escaped her. Several weeks of rest at the villa with his kin had clearly done Onni good; he radiated sunshine and bracing sea air. Siiri glanced at Irma, who simply raised her eyebrows and spread her hands in bafflement. Apparently, the Ambassador hadn’t explained his unexpected reappearance. He stroked Anna-Liisa’s cheek tenderly and bent down to give her a peck on the forehead. Then he turned to Irma and Siiri.
‘Shall we go for coffee? Let’s leave Anna-Liisa to sleep off her worries.’
Worries, was that all they were? Siiri had read in the newspaper that many illnesses were psychological in nature and resulted from the patient being in a bad mood, stressed out, unhappy, or otherwise off-kilter. Perhaps the gutting of Sunset Grove was reason enough to send an elderly woman into a state of confusion. But where did the path out of this situation lie?
‘Döden, döden, döden,’ Irma trilled in a dramatic vibrato, and then pressed the elevator button that would carry them down to the hospital cafe.
‘Everything will be fine, my dear ladies,’ the Ambassador said with a winning smile. Siiri could smell the Ambassador’s aftershave in the confines of the elevator, and it reminded her of her own husband, and suddenly she was unbearably sad. She followed Irma and the Ambassador up to the counter with heavy steps, took a tray, and stood there holding it, feeling like a fool. Were coffee and a sweet bun going to do anything to ease an old widow’s longing?
‘Why not?’ Irma replied cheerfully, slapping a plate onto Siiri’s tray. It held a doughnut with light-green frosting. ‘Everyone’s eating these, these days, why don’t you try one, too?’
A smattering of wan patients dotted the canteen; there wasn’t a single visitor in sight. Apparently, July wasn’t any busier in the hospital than it was in the rest of the city. The Ambassador told them stories from his villa, and how he’d caught a decent-sized pike that he’d thrown back into the lake because pike didn’t make for good eating. Irma disagreed vehemently and tried to remember a good recipe for pike, and when she couldn’t, she pulled her green flaptop out of her handbag. The Ambassador was intrigued by Irma’s iPad, and they got sidetracked by a lengthy conversation about how wonderful it was, without ever finding the fish recipe Irma had meant to look for.
‘You bake the pike after stuffing it with all sorts of delicious ingredients,’ she remembered, licking her lips. The Ambassador was engrossed in playing cards on Irma’s tablet and was pleased when he beat himself twice in a row.
‘We have to move out of Sunset Grove,’ Siiri said, to put a stop to the stasis of the moment; it was what Anna-Liisa would have done. With Anna-Liisa missing, they were in constant danger of wandering off onto rhetorical side-paths instead of concentrating on the essential. The Ambassador gave the tablet to Irma, put his reading glasses in his breast pocket, and gave Siiri a sly look. Siiri had never noticed how penetratingly blue the Ambassador’s eyes were; they were exactly how she’d always imagined Jean Sibelius’s eyes. Many descriptions of the famous composer dedicated a line or two to them, how they were sky-blue, deep blue, delicate blue, or ice-blue, their gaze exceptionally intense and wise.
‘My dear ladies,’ the Ambassador began, ‘as you might be aware, I’m involved in a variety of enterprises, including several apartments I own in central Helsinki. They’re currently leased for various purposes, but, with a little rearranging, I might be able to free one temporarily so that we could escape the plumbing retrofit at Sunset Grove.’
Irma practically squealed in delight. ‘All of us? Move into some communist ménage, like Siiri’s been dreaming about?’
‘I knew it was a good idea, but you never took me seriously!’ Siiri said jubilantly.
‘It depends on the flat, of course. But at the moment it’s looking as if a sizable set of rooms at Hakaniemi may be freeing up in the near future. I was thinking that with Anneli in such poor shape, it might be best if several of us are looking after her.’
‘You want us to be Anna-Liisa’s caregivers?’ Irma asked. She was a nurse, although she hadn’t worked since the 1960s, when the last of her darlings was born.
‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind,’ the Ambassador said, pondering for a moment. ‘I haven’t thought it all the way through yet. But it’s plain we can’t live at Sunset Grove any longer. Anna-Liisa’s condition is such that if they throw her out of the hospital, she’ll die at Sunset Grove. And I can’t . . . I’m not prepared . . . something has to be done –’ He gulped and wiped his tears with a tissue. Siiri gathered that the Ambassador was having a hard time solving the problem on his own. This man, who had always managed his affairs with such a firm hand, needed their help and was visibly embarrassed at having gone soft. Siiri regretted suspecting Onni of engaging in hijinks while vacationing at the villa. He was exceptionally warm-hearted and fair. He must have his reasons for seeing his heirs from time to time.
‘I’ve been wanting to live in a commune all along,’ Siiri said cheerfully. ‘It will be fun. And it would only be temporary. The renovation can’t last forever, can it? We’ll be able to stand each other for four months. That’s a shorter ordeal than the Winter War. Or is it?’
‘A little longer. But much easier, I’m sure. After all, we see each other every day at Sunset Grove, too,’ the Ambassador said, already m
ore chipper.
‘Did you say the flat was in Hakaniemi? North of the bridge, the Pitkäsilta, where the Reds and labour unions hole up?’ Irma asked. She looked as if Hakaniemi were the most exciting thing she’d ever heard of. She’d refused to set foot north of the Pitkäsilta her entire life, and she found the opportunity to defy her own strictures invigorating, like everything else a bit naughty. ‘How big is this flat?’
‘It’s very large and quite unusual, but unfortunately I don’t have a very good grasp of the particulars. These apartments are investments for me and linked to my other businesses, so I’ve never set foot inside this specific unit. But to the best of my recollection, there are several bedrooms. Four or five.’
They started calculating that even three bedrooms would be enough for them. If there really were five, they could rescue a few more residents of Sunset Grove, too.
‘Shall we bring Tauno along? I like him,’ Irma suggested.
‘Or Margit, preferably? She’s in quite a jam, with Eino at that CrowsNest in eastern Helsinki.’
‘SquirrelsNest, Siiri. And Margit . . . Well, she’s a little unpredictable, and I don’t believe Anna-Liisa has ever enjoyed her company much.’
‘Hakaniemi is so much more convenient than Munkkiniemi. There’s a metro stop, several trams, and almost all the buses stop there at the square.’
Siiri had always liked the market at Hakaniemi Square. Sometimes she would hop off the tram at Hakaniemi with no particular destination in mind, wander through the market hall, and browse the stalls outside on the square. The place had the ambience of times past, somehow. And what could suit them better, ancient relics that they were?
‘And then there’s Ritva Lahtinen,’ Irma mused. ‘But she is most definitely not invited.’
‘Who’s that?’ The Ambassador’s curiosity was piqued, but when they explained that Ritva Lahtinen was a sixty-seven-year-old, tattooed corpse-cutter, his enthusiasm foundered. ‘I don’t suppose we can save everyone. No need to start playing Noah’s Ark.’
This was rather cleverly put. They shared a jolly laugh, finished their coffee, and continued out into the heat. They had a rollicking tram ride home, planning their new life in Hakaniemi. And their brilliant idea would, no doubt, breathe new life into Anna-Liisa, too.
Chapter 9
On a scorching July day, Siiri, Irma and the Ambassador were sitting in the courtyard at Sunset Grove, surrounded by old toilets, shower basins, bathtubs and grimy lengths of pipe. One of the nurses had carried out a table, a bench and a glass jar that was now brimming with cigarette butts, and this was where they were now having their rendezvous, because the Ambassador had looked into the Hakaniemi rental unit and had heard good news: the apartment could be vacated with very little warning. On top of that, it was already furnished, so the move would be easy and effortless.
‘Anna-Liisa needs her books; at least some of them. Or is there already a bookshelf? One with books?’ Siiri said. ‘Some people fill their bookshelves with knick-knacks and photographs.’
‘No, there aren’t any bookshelves. To my understanding, the Kallio Library is within walking distance. I’m sure Anna-Liisa can find herself plenty to read there.’
Anna-Liisa would be coming home from the hospital perhaps as early as the end of the week. The Ambassador had got right down to business and had acquired his wife’s medical records. Three of the documents were written by the nurses and read ‘Treatment Notes’ at the upper edge. The collated thoughts of the doctors had been copied on a separate sheet of paper, called a Report, even though it was clearly a discharge summary.
‘These nurses’ observations are quite funny,’ Irma said. Anna-Liisa had been highly praised in the Treatment Notes. She was friendly and polite, didn’t have much of an appetite and slept a lot, appeared confused on occasion. But when she’d refused to take all her medication, a shift in tone had appeared: ‘Remains recalcitrant and uncooperative’. Anna-Liisa had refused the mood boosters and other nonsense, and for this reason the nurses had gradually started to treat her like a psychiatric patient, and a hopeless case at that. Which had, naturally, offended Anna-Liisa. According to the nurses she had started acting increasingly aggressively and suspiciously.
‘Listen to this,’ Irma cried. ‘“Patient is delusional. Claims to have seen people in her room at night and can’t remember where she is. Constantly asks when she’ll be going home, without any comprehension of her present state.” And why do you think that might be! She’s ninety-four years old, locked up in a hospital room with loads of other patients, and pumped full of drugs. Then they sneak around, spying on her at all hours to see if she’s keeping up with what’s going on in the world. It’s a wonder they don’t wake her up in the middle of the night and ask who the president’s spouse is. Those are the kinds of stupid questions they use at the at the health centre to find out if you’ve got a screw loose.’ Irma glanced at them uncertainly. ‘It is Jenna, isn’t it?’
‘Jenni Haukio,’ the Ambassador said, pleased to be the only one who passed the test.
‘You only remember her because she’s young and pretty. I’m sure you’d have had trouble remembering the previous spouse’s name.’
‘You don’t remember it, either,’ Siiri said.
‘Of course I do: Pentti Arajärvi.’
‘He’s not the president’s former spouse!’
‘No, silly, he’s the former president’s spouse. You’re certainly getting featherbrained, Siiri. Besides, you’re leading this conversation off onto the wrong track completely.’
Irma was furious, not with the Ambassador, but with the hospital for questioning Anna-Liisa’s mental health. After she had cooled off a little, the Ambassador told them that Anna-Liisa had, indeed, taken fright in the middle of the night: numerous people had been walking in and out of the room. As a rule, nights at the hospital were extremely quiet; certainly there weren’t any nurses around if a patient happened to wake up and call for help. These nocturnal intruders had assumed that Anna-Liisa was sleeping, and she hadn’t dared say anything; she had just lain there stunned and completely still. From the nurses’ talk, Anna-Liisa had later deduced that the patient in the next bed had died earlier that night. That was why people had been running in and out, first a couple of nurses, then the doctor, and then several orderlies to remove the body. One of them had bumped Anna-Liisa’s bed, but she’d been too scared to say anything. And when she woke up again the next morning, a new, living patient was lying in the bed.
‘Then Anneli made the mistake of mentioning the incident, and she was pronounced insane,’ the Ambassador said and he laughed, because, in his eyes, the entire situation was the height of absurdity. In the end, Anna-Liisa’s name had been added to the list of patients waiting to see a psychiatrist.
‘Quite a punishment for demonstrating that you’re still sharp,’ Irma said.
For a moment no one spoke; they grew sombre at the thought. The construction workers were on their lunch break, and an unusual silence had fallen over Sunset Grove. They could hear chaffinches and chickadees singing, and that hadn’t happened in ages. Siiri tried to see which tree the songbirds were in, but she could only spot a scruffy crow croaking from the gutters of Sunset Grove. A middle-aged woman, presumably one of the staff, stood smoking a couple of yards away. The nurses no longer wore white coats while they were on duty; there was surely a good reason for this. Irma suggested that perhaps the idea was that if the staff wore striped T-shirts, it made Sunset Grove seem like a home, not an institution. The downside was that the residents couldn’t tell who was a nurse and who was a janitor.
‘It doesn’t matter; there aren’t any janitors here any more,’ she said, rummaging around in her handbag and pulling out a cigarette. Generally, she didn’t smoke until evening, but the clouds the employee was exhaling aroused Irma’s degenerate urges. She said her nose was stopped up from all the fresh air, which was why it made sense to smoke one nostril-opening cigarette. She searched for her matches and
reported on this hunt so volubly that the woman in the striped shirt came over to offer her a light. A pair of spectacles, a key chain, a handkerchief, a pack of cards, a wallet, a bottle of whisky, a tube of lipstick, and a package of nylons already lay on the table. The Ambassador discreetly trained his gaze on the horizon.
‘We nurses have red stripes. The practical nurses have green ones, and the supervisors wear blue,’ the nurse explained.
‘You don’t say? So there’s a system to it? Isn’t that something, I never realized. I’ve just been thinking you all look like jailbirds, although I’d say we’re the prisoners here.’
Irma managed to light her cigarette and she waved the smoke out of Siiri’s face, where a lazy breeze persistently steered it. The nurse said she’d overheard their conversation. She thought that what had happened to Anna-Liisa was nothing out of the ordinary, ‘totally normal’, in fact. They shouldn’t let it shock them.
‘There’s that word again!’ Irma cried. ‘Normal this and normal that. That’s what my darlings always say, too.’
‘She probably has a urinary tract infection; it’s common among older people,’ the nurse said. ‘It can be asymptomatic. Sometimes patients get a fever, and confusion is very common. It’s a typical symptom.’
‘Wouldn’t that mean the infection isn’t asymptomatic?’ the Ambassador asked. He wasn’t pleased that this cigarette-smoking nurse was butting into their conversation.
‘There are symptoms and then there are symptoms. Confusion can be a perpetual state. But if residential staff know their clientele, they’ll notice the change, they’ll notice that the confusion is temporary or a new development, which means they can look into the causes. I think we should be able to take urine samples at retirement homes; it’s so simple and a major cause of confusion for many old folks. It makes no sense for them to take a cab to the lab or lie around in a hospital for weeks just for that.’
Escape from Sunset Grove Page 8
