Eva and the Irishman

by Janne E Toivonen

  Eva and the Irishman

  A Novel by

  Janne E. Toivonen

  Copyright 2017 by Janne E. Toivonen

  Published by Janne E. Toivonen at Smashwords

  Cover Design by Vila Design

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and recommended for adults only. All characters depicted in graphic sexual content are adults 18 years or older. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my two editors, Kate Gleason and Z Egloff, for teaching me the finer art of fiction writing, encouraging me the whole way. A special thank you to Annette Toivonen, my sister, who gave me extraordinary, unflagging support through positive living, and who also acted as my "admin" doing all the hard work of converting this novel to ebook.

  Dedication

  To all my ancestors known and unknown.

  Table of Contents

  Part One: Origins

  Part Two: Unexpected Changes

  Part Three: Fight or Flight

  Finnish Pronunciation Guide

  About Janne E. Toivonen

  Other Books by Janne E. Toivonen

  Connect with Janne E. Toivonen

  Part One: Origins

  Chapter 1

  Belfast, Ireland

  Liam did not want to go downstairs. That would mean spending time with his mother and father, who continuously boasted they were of the upper crust of the pro-British, Protestant society of Belfast. He viewed them to be both boorish and bigoted. Yes, his father was a vice-president at Harland and Wolff, but he, Liam, was not of that ilk. He had nothing against money. He just hated listening to his mother prattle on about her position and all her society friends. A short, plump, aging redhead who wore expensive gowns and suits when it wasn’t necessary, she was continually planning her next moves as to how to keep herself in the midst of the highest society, as if it were her career. Liam despised her behavior.

  “Liam! Come downstairs. It’s your birthday dinner. Your cousins are here,” his mother called from the bottom of the stairs.

  Liam rolled his eyes and grimaced at the thought of his sniveling, vapid cousins. They were all alike, cretins every one of them. All he wanted to do was read his medical texts. His dream was to go to the Royal School for Surgeons in Edinburgh this coming fall. He had wasted enough time on aimlessness. He should’ve been in school long ago and finished by now. Without his parents knowing, he had taken all the entrance examinations and was ready to apply to the prestigious, long-standing medical school. He couldn’t wait to move there. Though there was one person here he would truly miss, the cook Annie, a petite, auburn-haired widow about his mother’s age. Annie, a poor Catholic, was the only one in the Dady mansion who had treated Liam with love and kindness. Ever since she’d come to work here when he was fifteen-years-old, she’d been more like a mother to him than his own mother. Annie's husband had died about two years before the death of her only child, a boy named Conor.

  “Conor died of an infectious fever,” she’d told Liam when she first started as their cook. “He would’ve been your age, Liam.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry Annie,” Liam had said and hugged her in the warm, homey kitchen.

  As Annie wiped her tears with her crumpled kerchief, Liam got an idea. “Maybe I can be a son of sorts for ye,” he said. He didn’t want her to be lonely.

  “What a truly lovely idea, Liam.”

  Over the next nine years, Liam felt nurtured by Annie as she fed him, consoled him, and cleaned his cuts and scrapes and iced his fight injuries. She would admonish him when he came home in the evening after school, knowing he had been in the Catholic neighborhoods with his secret friend, Patrick, prowling and fighting against his own Protestants.

  “Jesus, Liam, yer father will skin ye alive if he found out ye’ve been in West Belfast.” Annie took his chin and made him look at her. “What if some of yer own congregation discovered ye’re on the Catholic side, coverin’ yer face with a hood?” She took a deep breath. “It could kill ye, bein’ over there, do ye understand?”

  He could see her fear. Not anger, but fear. “Don’t worry, Annie. Patrick and I know all the hidin’ places. We’re fast and the old fogies can’t catch us, those Protestant bastards.”

  “Liam! Watch yer tongue.”

  “Sorry.” He respected his surrogate mother and was contrite.

  “Please love, don’t go there anymore. At least stop the fightin’. I know the O’Brien’s, and I know very well what Patrick and his gang do.”

  Liam sat at the kitchen table for his supper, thankful he was home with Annie caring for him. He gave her a faint smile. He picked up a piece of soda bread and covered it with butter.

  Annie frowned. “I lose sleep over ye when ye’re out late doin’ those risky things. She put a bowl of fragrant, piping hot lamb stew in front of him and sighed.

  “I’ll always be careful for ye, Annie.”

  Now, from his room on his twenty-fourth birthday, Liam wished it were Annie calling him instead of his mother bellowing like a great cow. He thumped his anatomy book shut, got up from his desk, and girded himself for the evening of babbling. At least he would be eating the delicious raisin cake that Annie made for him for his birthday. He’d spend the time with his parents as long as he needed to, and then he would spend the rest of the evening helping Annie clean up. After, they would sit companionably in the kitchen having coffee and talking.

  His aunt and uncle were there, along with his two younger cousins. Liam had never paid attention to his cousins, and he didn’t plan to start now. He could see that his father and uncle were in the parlor, having a glass of top-shelf Irish whiskey. His Uncle Thomas worked for Harland and Wolff in the division that oversaw the building of the vessels.

  “Liam, come in here for a glass,” his father beckoned gruffly. “Have a birthday drink. Time you started getting to know people in the firm and behaving more like a man.”

  William Dady was not a man anyone said ‘no’ to. “Thank you, Father,” Liam said. He kept check on what his face was conveying as he took the proffered glass of whiskey. Liam had put on his gray wool flannel suit with a freshly starched white shirt. The collar was horrendously stiff and he felt as though he were choking.

  “It’s good to see you dressed for dinner,” Father said.

  Liam knew this meant that his father would’ve sent him back upstairs if he had come down improperly dressed. Liam had to play things right, otherwise he would be out on the street, with no money, although he believed his mother would have no such thing done to him, if only to avoid a scandal. Still, he was getting tired of being in a powerless position.

  The dinner bell rang before Father could say anything else. Liam put the half-empty crystal glass down on a polished, dust-free, mahogany side table, and then followed his father into the gaudy and meticulously-set dining room. Liam was embarrassed at the overly-done table. Who’s comin’ to dinner, the fuckin’ Queen? He looked at his babbling mother and her purple silk gown, her rouged cheeks and lips, and felt even deeper disgust at the whole scene.
He was on a simmer, and it wasn’t going to take much to reach a full boil.

  Mrs. Dady rang the bell—that fuckin’ annoying bell—that summoned Annie and the housekeeper Katie, another Catholic. Annie stepped out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

  “Yes, Mum?” she said.

  “Annie, bring the soup out,” Mother barked. Leaning to her sister-in-law, she prattled, “She’s made this quaint nettle soup. All the poor people eat it, but I find it charming.”

  Annie vanished into the kitchen and returned with a tureen of steaming-hot soup and a ladle.

  “You can start serving, Annie,” Mother said.

  Liam rolled his eyes. “Say ‘Please’ Mother, when ye ask someone to do somethin'.”

  His mother ignored his request and kept on babbling to her blank-faced sister-in-law. “We are so lucky to have found a decent cook, as hard as it is to find help. We had to resort to hiring a Catholic, but she’s easy enough to work with.”

  That was the breaking point for Liam. His hand slammed the dinner table, rattling the stemware and knocking over a silver candlestick. His mother seemed to jump a mile out of her chair.

  “Damn it, Mother! Why do you have to be deliberately rude?” He stood up, knocking his chair over backward. It clattered noisily to the floor.

  “Watch the furniture, Liam!” his father bellowed. “Do you know how expensive that mahogany is?”

  “You’re concerned about the chair?” Liam’s face felt hot. “Is that—? What are you people about, for God’s sake?”

  “Get out of my house, you ingrate!” Father blurted.

  Liam stormed out of the dining room through the kitchen. He could hear his mother crying, but he didn’t care.

  Annie and Katie joined him in the kitchen moments later.

  “I’m sorry, Annie, Katie," Liam said as respectfully as possible. "I hope the rest of the dinner is better for ye.” He put on his coat and cap.

  “Ye can’t let the shite bother ye,” Annie said quietly. “I ignore it all the time. I’m just glad I’m workin’.”

  “I’ll be back later, for sure.” He ran back to Annie and kissed her on the forehead, holding her by her shoulders. “I’ll stay safe for ye.”

  Liam flew out the back door. He ducked under the dining room windows, to hide from those within, and ran from his home as fast as he could. He had no idea where he was heading. He only wanted to get away.

  Chapter 2

  Finland, Duchy of Russia

  “Eva, I heard rain this morning. Don’t forget your shawl and scarf,” Mamma quietly called from the bedroom. Eva was getting ready to leave for work at the Mattson farm. Her father and two sisters were still asleep. She didn’t mind the hard work and long days because a certain someone lived at the farm. Or two certain someones, now. All of a sudden it was two brothers instead of the one, one alluring and worldly, the other as vexing as he was handsome. Eva was beginning to feel a tug of war beginning, with her as the prize. It was a baffling place to be, yet exciting at the same time.

  Eva Elisabet Maki had just had a birthday. It was a milestone. She was a woman now. Like her sisters, she was a tall, blue-eyed, strawberry-blond beauty.

  “Don’t worry Mamma, I’ll take them with me,” Eva said as she stood in the doorway of her parents’ bedroom. “I have made coffee and cut some nisu for you and Pappa.” She spoke quietly, so as not to disturb her father. “It’s on a plate on the shelf above the stove.” Eva had covered the nisu, a sweet, cardimon flavored coffee bread, with a clean but well-used linen towel before placing it above the wood stove they used for cooking and central heating.

  “Thank you, Eva,” Mamma said and smiled.

  “Do you need help getting into the kitchen, Mamma?” Eva worried about Mamma who was beginning to lose her sight. Eva, as the eldest child, felt it was her duty to help out around the household and take over the larger farm duties, working with Mrs. Mattson.

  “No. I’m fine," Mamma said. “I’ve walked into the kitchen thousands of times. I can do it. You go to Mattson’s. I will see you this evening.” She began to make her way out of the bedroom.

  Eva pushed a lock of her mother’s graying strawberry blond hair back from her face and gave her a kiss. “I can come home early if you like.”

  Pappa spoke from bed, “I’m up, Eva. I will help.” He began to cough, a wretched cough. It broke Eva's heart every time she heard it. Pappa, a former sailor, had contracted tuberculosis years ago from the unsanitary conditions of ships and ports. The disease was slowly eating away at the once-strong, fair-haired, blue-eyed Finn.

  Trusting that all would be well, Eva said, “I’m leaving now. I love you both.” She threw her shawl around her shoulders and walked to the bedroom she shared with her two sisters to make sure they would be getting up soon.

  “Wake up, Liisa. Wake up, Aili.”

  Eva smiled as she heard moans and groans muffled by quilts and feather pillows. She walked back out into the main room of their two-bedroom house. She left the house by the center front door with its covered entryway, so the vicious winter winds wouldn’t blow directly into the main room. She made her way across the rain-drenched grass of the front yard. It had stopped raining, but she put on her scarf, folded into a triangle and tied under her chin. The morning air was damp and cool.

  Eva remembered when it had been Pappa instead of her who used to leave for work as the Mattson’s farmhand, but his advancing tuberculosis prevented him from doing so any longer. He was able to do small things around their own tenant’s farm on the Mattson property, however, with the three girls helping.

  Eva missed graduating with the Mattson boys, but felt fortunate to have at least finished all of grade school and some high school. She knew that this job would keep the family fed and clothed, especially in the brutal winter months this far north in Europe.

  As Eva walked down the narrow country lane, she breathed in the wet forest fragrance, sharp and piney. Her thoughts went to the Mattson middle brother, Eino. The same age, they’d grown up close friends. They had always been sweet on each other, but lately he had been pursuing her in a more grown-up way, catching her alone and cajoling her into kissing him. Just the day before, she had been collecting the eggs for Mamma Mattson. With a full basket, she turned to leave the coop. She startled when she discovered Eino standing in the doorway, leaning on the jamb. His penetrating blue eyes and lusty look made her rouse.

  He smiled. “Here you are again, Eva. All alone.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “You are always sneaking up on me.” Then she tried to temper her giddiness. “Yes, I’ve kissed you before, but I’ve told you I don’t love you.” She felt the untruth in the statement.

  His eyes peered deep into hers. “That’s not what your kisses say to me.”

  “You are like a brother to me, nothing more,” she said. Yet she throbbed at his nearness, and she liked it. His pursuing her had made her feel special, but then his older brother Victor had started to pay attention to her. Having two brothers pursue her, especially with Victor being nineteen, was very enticing to her.

  Eino frowned. “I don’t believe you,” he said and walked right up close to her, making her take a half-step back. His lusty look came back.

  She peered around him to the door, nervous yet drawn to him. She saw no one outside. No one could see them. He put his hand behind her back and pulled her close. She felt her knees buckle and she gasped for air, her desire an electric tingle where their bodies met. She could not take her eyes off his. He leaned into her and put his lips on hers. She found herself kissing him back.

  When the kiss ended, he looked into her eyes. One corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile. “You like my kisses. I can tell.”

  “But I don’t love you, Eino,” she fibbed again.

  His smile disappeared, and his eyes lost the twinkle. Disappointment, then anger, shrouded his handsome face.

  She tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  His eyes
stayed on hers. “It’s Victor, isn’t it? I’ve seen you two together lately.” His eyes blazed with jealousy.

  “We’re just friends,” she said, though she knew that, too, was a lie.

  “I don’t know what you see in him. He’s a Mamma’s boy.”

  “Just because he doesn’t give your mother a hard time the way you sometimes do, doesn’t make him a Mamma’s boy.”

  “Sure, it does. He’s always been my parents’ favorite. Perfect Victor. They have no idea—and now he thinks he can just push me aside and—”

  “Stop! You are jealous of Victor’s and my friendship.” She put her forearms in between their bodies and pushed hard to loosen his grip on her.

  He let her go, but said, “It’s been you and me all along. I don’t believe that you don’t love me. I tell you, you are making a mis—”

  “You don’t get to choose. I do. Now let me by.” It unnerved her that he read her so well, but she refused to let him tell her whom she should choose. She took the egg basket and left promptly before he could see anything else in her face that belied her words.

  Now, as she headed to the farm that morning, remembering Eino’s kiss and how it had made her swoon, she felt overwhelmed and confused. She could not easily forget their lifelong friendship, even though she wanted to with her burgeoning attraction to Victor. She and Victor had been kissing, too, when no one was looking. And now he says he wants to lay with me. I feel that way, too, but I am not ready for that.

  Up ahead in the road she spotted a snowshoe rabbit and her little ones, cautiously crossing the dirt road to feed on the bright green grass of a hay field. She stopped for a moment so she wouldn’t frighten them away. They saw her, the mamma thumped her foot, and they scampered into the forest once again. Eva kept going. She could hear the forest alive with birds, chirping madly. It was more than a month before juhannus. The daylight hours were increasing each day, but the steel gray blanket of shower clouds made it a little darker that morning.