The English Heart

by Helena Halme

  ‘Really?’ Kaisa said, not really comprehending how she could be booked onto a flight and not have a seat reserved. An awful sensation came into her stomach: did this mean she’d miss the flight?

  The woman revealed a set of white teeth, ‘But, you’ve been upgraded to Business Class.’

  Kaisa looked at her. She was still feeling dizzy.

  ‘Have a good flight, Miss.’ She handed Kaisa the boarding pass and nodded politely, as if she’d suddenly become a more important person.

  Kaisa was wearing jeans and a T-shirt under a pale-blue jumper. Everyone else in business class wore a suit, and she was the only woman in the whole compartment. Apart from the air hostesses, of course, who surely knew Kaisa didn’t belong there.

  Even the business class compartment was completely full. Kaisa had a window seat next to an older Finnish man, who started talking to her as soon as they took off. ‘Going to London for work?’

  ‘No, I’m a student, going to see a friend.’

  ‘Do you study at Helsinki University?’ The man smiled to Kaisa in a kindly way, like a father to a daughter. She guessed his children were her age.

  ‘No, at Hanken, the Swedish School of Economics.’

  This really seemed to impress the man, ‘Oh!’ he said.

  Kaisa turned towards the window. They were hovering above white clouds. The air hostess brought a meal and Kaisa asked for orange juice. She looked at her watch: only two hours fifteen minutes until they’d land at Heathrow and she’d see Peter.

  ‘You must be excited about the elections then?’ the man said. He was chewing a piece of chicken and Kaisa wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

  ‘The elections?’

  ‘Yes, Margaret Thatcher! You must like her radical views on the economy?’

  Kaisa looked at the man. His thin hair was going grey at the temples. Kaisa didn’t know much about the politics of the newly re-elected British Prime Minister, only that she was very right-wing. But she agreed with everything the man said, trying to avoid further questions. Eventually he gave up when Kaisa dug the latest Graham Greene novel she’d borrowed from the British Council out of her handbag.

  Peter was waiting for Kaisa with a dark-red rose in his hand. He kissed her for a long, long time. Kaisa had forgotten how he smelled of cigarettes and the coconut shaving cream, and how his mouth tasted minty. She felt breathless; her heart beat so hard she felt sure everyone around must have heard it.

  The new car was on the second level of a concrete parking lot. It was a grey-and-black Ford Fiesta and looked dull compared to Peter’s old yellow Spitfire, but Peter told Kaisa how the old sports car was always breaking down.

  ‘I remember all those freezing cold mornings it wouldn’t start in Edinburgh!’ Kaisa said. Peter squeezed Kaisa’s shoulders and smiled at her. It felt good to be able to share something that had happened in the past. Something they had both experienced.

  The new Ford started like a dream. Peter kissed Kaisa on the mouth and drove the car out of the dank car park and into the bright sunshine. They headed down to Portsmouth and Kaisa was struck by the bright-green colour of the fields they passed. It was a hot June day. Some farmers were already cutting their crops of hay. In Finland they didn’t start doing that until at least a month later. Summer was so much further ahead here, she thought, and wished she could stay in England forever.

  ‘You didn’t forget your dress, did you?’ Peter said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘For the Dolphin Summer Ball?’

  ‘Yes, I remembered.’

  ‘Great. It’ll be good fun!’

  Peter had told Kaisa about the ball, which was held each summer at the submarine base in Portsmouth. She was nervous about meeting a new set of his friends. She’d brought the same dress (the only ball gown Kaisa owned) that she’d worn to the Hanken Ball in Helsinki a year and a half ago. Kaisa was afraid it would be far too ordinary-looking. She was sure the other girls would be wearing designer gowns, not ones that were made by a friend from cheap material.

  Peter and Kaisa were the only ones out of the old group of Navy friends who stayed in the terraced house in Southsea that summer. It belonged to Peter’s best mate, Jeff, who was now serving in Northern Ireland. The girl, Sandra, who had lived there two years previously, when Kaisa had been to stay the first time, was working for NATO in Brussels, and her boyfriend, Oliver, was in Faslane, where Peter had been. It seemed strange for everyone to be scattered around Europe, but as Peter put it, ‘That’s the Navy for you.’

  Again Kaisa and Peter fell into a routine. Each morning during Kaisa’s two-week stay in the little house in Southsea, after Peter left for work, looking handsome in his uniform, she walked down to the shops at the end of the street. Kaisa wanted to cook Peter Finnish dishes, and searched for the right ingredients at the small butcher’s and greengrocer’s.

  Kaisa made Karelian stew out of diced beef, pork and lamb’s kidney, pea soup from a hock of ham and dried peas, and fish chowder from cod and new potatoes. She struggled to work the gas oven and hob in the little kitchen at the back of the house, often burning her fingers with matches. It seemed so old-fashioned and dangerous to cook with gas, but Peter said it was much better and cheaper than electric. Kaisa felt like a little wife, but strangely this didn’t bother her anymore. What was most important was that Peter and she could spend every evening and night together, as well as the long weekends, when there was just the two of them and they could please themselves.

  * * *

  The long-awaited Dolphin Summer Ball took place two days before Kaisa was due to return to Helsinki. She’d been dreading it, and trying not to think about it. The invitation was written in the same kind of gold lettering, on a similar card, as the invitation to the cocktail party in Helsinki all that time ago. Looking at it took Kaisa back to the days before she’d met Peter. This time it was issued in Peter’s name. Underneath there was space for an avec, where he’d written Kaisa’s name.

  Peter wore his summer dress jacket, white with the gold lapels. When he was ready and Kaisa was still getting dressed, he kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘No rush, darling. I’ll go and fix you a gin and tonic.’

  He sounded so domesticated, or husbandlike, as if he’d just stepped off the set of an English TV series, like Bouquet of Barbed Wire, which Kaisa had watched in Finland with her shocked mother. Kaisa smiled to herself, took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t want to wear too much make-up but her reflection looked so pale that she added more blusher to her cheeks. It was another hot summer’s evening. It had rained only once during the whole two weeks Kaisa had spent in the house in Southsea. But tonight Kaisa felt a chill run through her body. She couldn’t understand why she was so nervous about this evening. Was it the fear of perhaps seeing the girl, Peter’s ‘accident’? They hadn’t discussed the past, or the future. But still, that girl had to be part of Peter’s social circle. She had to be someone Kaisa had already met – otherwise why would Peter not tell her who it was? The past two weeks had gone by in a blissful haze of domesticity. It was only now, when Kaisa knew they had to go out together, to meet other people, that it occurred to her that she still didn’t know if they were a proper couple. She’d again not been brave enough to talk about anything important with Peter and she certainly couldn’t do it right now.

  Peter drove the Fiesta to the jetty in HMS Vernon, where Kaisa and he boarded a pass-boat over to Gosport on the other side of the harbour. Peter went aboard first and gave Kaisa his hand to guide her onto the small vessel. She felt as if she’d entered the last century when she sat down next to two other women. The ladies in their evening gowns, made out of luxurious velvet and silk, and wearing long satin gloves, smiled. The men stood, holding onto the side of the boat. They took off their caps and nodded to Kaisa.

  ‘Good evening,’ one said.

  ‘Good evening,’ Kaisa replied. It was still warm, but she was shivering.

  Peter sat down ne
xt to her and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You OK?’

  ‘Are Lucinda and Roger going to be there?’

  Peter laughed. ‘No, I don’t think you’ll know anyone, but don’t worry. I’ll look after you,’ he whispered into Kaisa’s ear as the loud engine of the boat started and headed towards the other shore.

  The Dolphin Submarine School knew how to organise a party. There were different areas for food, dancing or just socialising. There was a disco, a Caribbean steel band, and a live group called The Smugglers, who played old-fashioned music from the Sixties. It felt appropriate to be listening to the Beatles’ songs in England, although the sound of Love, Love Me Do reminded Kaisa of her childhood summers spent in the wooden-clad cottage by a lake in Finland. One year, Sirkka and Kaisa played this same single, bought by their father in Stockholm, over and over. Kaisa felt as if those summers in Finland had happened to her in another life.

  Peter led Kaisa to a vast balcony overlooking Old Portsmouth and Southsea. He handed her a drink and introduced her to a string of his friends and their wives or girlfriends. As soon as they told Kaisa their names, she forgot them. She struggled to follow the conversation over the music, which flowed from the different rooms. Everyone was happy; the men were making jokes and the women laughed out loud. Kaisa smiled, too, trying to pretend she’d understood the punch lines.

  ‘You stay here, I’m going to check where we’re sitting for supper,’ Peter said and left.

  A slightly older man, who seemed to be on his own, came to stand next to Kaisa. He had watery eyes and thinning pale hair. His jacket had several gold rings on it so Kaisa guessed he must be more senior than Peter.

  ‘He’s not given you a set of Dolphins yet then?’ the man said, bending down to look at the top of Kaisa’s dress.

  Kaisa placed a hand over the low-cut cleavage. She felt very exposed, and cursed her decision not to buy a proper ball gown after all. Hers was made of very thin fabric and had narrow straps, making it impossible to wear a bra. Kaisa had asked Peter if he thought it too revealing but he’d just smiled and said she looked good.

  ‘Sorry, I don’t understand?’ Kaisa now said. The man pointed at a small brooch-like pin on his uniform jacket.

  ‘No, he hasn’t.’

  Peter had, of course, told Kaisa about the Dolphins, the emblem of the submarine service. Once you passed your exams and had done the sea time in a boat, you had to earn your Dolphins by catching the pin between your teeth from a glass of rum. She remembered how proud he’d sounded when he told her about the ceremony. But Kaisa didn’t realise the women could have them too.

  The man laughed at Kaisa’s confusion and said, ‘I don’t suppose he’s told you he can’t marry you, either?’

  Kaisa looked at the man’s red, flushed face.

  Just then Peter reappeared by her side. ‘C’mon, darling, there’s someone I want you to meet.’

  Kaisa was still staring at the man.

  ‘Excuse us, Sir,’ Peter said, and led Kaisa away.

  Nineteen

  Kaisa’s ears were ringing. Peter took her to the end of the long balcony. She saw how the lights from the other side of the harbour reflected against the dark water. The floor beneath her felt uneven, as if she was still on the boat. Or floating in the water. Noises around her seemed muffled. Had she gone deaf? Peter rested one hand on Kaisa’s waist, drinking a pint of beer with the other. He was half-leaning over the low balcony wall, talking to three other officers, who’d appeared from nowhere. Kaisa wondered if she’d met them before. Their laughter seemed to come from somewhere far, far away.

  Kaisa shook her head and slowly regained her hearing. She finished her drink in a few large gulps and asked Peter to get her another one. They were still standing by a low balcony wall at the Dolphin mess. Music was flowing out from the rooms beyond, and people were moving in and out of the long, wide outdoor space overlooking the harbour mouth. Lights from Old Portsmouth opposite flickered against the dark water. Men were handsome in their pressed uniforms and polished boots, women glamorous in their long ball gowns.

  ‘Alright darling, what would you like?’ Peter asked with a puzzled look on his face. Ladies weren’t supposed to ask for a drink, they were supposed to wait to be asked, Kaisa thought. But she didn’t care. She saw the large beer glass in Peter’s hand and nodded towards it.

  ‘A pint? Are you sure?’

  Kaisa said nothing; she just looked at Peter.

  ‘I’ll get these, it’s my round,’ said one of the other guys Peter had been talking to as he walked inside the noisy mess. He too was on the OPS course and had also been with Peter at Dartmouth Naval College. ‘He’s really, really rich,’ Peter whispered into Kaisa’s ear.

  She might have been impressed, but all Kaisa could think about was what the old man had said to her.

  ‘Who was that man I was talking to before,’ Kaisa said, trying to sound nonchalant, as if she was just making conversation.

  ‘He’s Commander SM; he sort of runs this place. Why, what did he say?’

  But Peter didn’t really want to know. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was surveying the crowd. He waved his hand to someone. The buzzing sound returned to Kaisa’s ears. A pretty girl wearing a salmon-coloured silk satin gown, cinched in at her tiny waist, with a huge bow at the back, was walking towards them. She was flanked by three men in uniform.

  ‘Hello, handsome,’ she said to Peter and kissed him on the cheek.

  Peter introduced her. ‘This is the lovely Tash. The girl we were all in love with at Dartmouth.’

  Kaisa managed a smile, although her ears were buzzing ever louder and her face seemed to have frozen into an unmoveable stare.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Tash said. She dipped her chin and looked up at Peter, feigning shyness.

  The drinks arrived. As Kaisa was handed the pint, there was a silence. All eyes seemed to follow the glass of beer as it travelled from the tray to her hand.

  ‘Well, cheers,’ Peter said.

  ‘Cheers!’ all said in unison.

  ‘You know, I once knew an Australian girl who drank pints,’ one of Tash’s entourage said, nodding kindly to Kaisa.

  ‘Yes, and I’ve heard all the girls down under do!’ said the other.

  ‘Do girls in Norway drink pints, too?’ asked the man who’d bought Kaisa the drink.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘I’m from Finland.’

  Another silence.

  Peter took hold of Kaisa’s waist and said, ‘She can drink any of you under the table, though she hasn’t grown a beard yet.’

  Laughter.

  I’m now the butt of a joke, Kaisa thought, and she drank her beer quickly. When asked, jokingly, by the rich friend if she wanted another one, Kaisa nodded.

  When it was time to sit down to the meal Kaisa was drunk, but all she wanted was to drink more. Occasionally Peter took hold of her hand under the table, and asked if she was alright, but for the most part he laughed and talked loudly with the other people at their table, one of whom was the famously lovely Tash, or Natasha, as Peter said her full name was. ‘But everyone calls her Tash,’ he’d added.

  She was sitting on the other side of the round table, attended by a handsome naval officer on either side of her. Kaisa felt sorry for a dark-haired girl who sat next to one of Tash’s adoring fans. Her purple dress had a deep cleavage, showing off her plump breasts. Occasionally Kaisa would catch one of the guys around the table staring at her assets, but for the most part she was ignored, leaning across her partner to catch what Tash was saying.

  As soon as Peter left her side, or she went to find the ladies’, other uniformed men approached Kaisa as if she was fair game. She thought somehow they’d guessed she was foreign, and therefore thought her inferior, even desperate. Just like their famous nurses. Peter had said there was a joke among young naval officers, ‘There are only two certainties in life: death and nurses.’

  They weren’t home in the little house in Southsea until gone two
o’clock. Kaisa was sick in the bathroom all night. Even after she’d brought up everything she’d eaten and drunk that night, she couldn’t sleep and sat at the edge of the bed. She felt like crying. The alarm clock on the side table said 5.30. Sleepily, Peter put his head on her lap and said, ‘You got room spin?’

  Kaisa looked at his square face, ‘No.’

  Peter closed his eyes and lay back against the pillow, ‘Come to bed then.’

  Kaisa knew she should have done as he said. She should have lain beside him and slept. She should have waited until the morning to talk. It was a Saturday and they’d have the whole day together. Their last whole day before Kaisa was going back home to Helsinki. But, still drunk, she couldn’t help herself.

  ‘You’re never going to marry me, are you?’

  There was no response. Kaisa turned around to see if Peter had gone back to sleep. If he’d dared…Anger surged inside her.

  But he was lying on his back, eyes wide open, looking at the ceiling. Kaisa turned away from him again. She felt such rage at him for putting her through the evening. He must have known what the people would be like, looking down their noses at her, a foreign girl daring to dream that an Englishman, a British Naval Officer, would ever marry her. Introducing Kaisa to a girl like Natasha, who, she’d learned later in the evening, was the daughter of an admiral and would be the perfect wife for Peter. She’d know how to behave at cocktail parties and naval dances. She’d not wear a dress that was obviously cheap and too revealing, or drink pints.

  ‘Well?’ Kaisa said.

  ‘Come here.’

  Oh, how she wanted to go and lie next to him. To feel his strong arms around her, to put her head against his warm chest, to cry about everything in his embrace. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t going to be charmed by his empty words, by his warm kisses, or by sex. Kaisa had to be strong, and not be seduced. She had to know if they had a future together.

  ‘No.’

  Kaisa heard Peter sit up. He yawned loudly. She waited, with her back to him. She heard him breathe heavily, deliberately, in and out. ‘You know how much I love you.’