by Helena Halme
'OK?' Patrick says, leaning back in the chair.
At that very moment, Harri steps into the kitchen.
'This is very cozy,' he says.
'Just talking about the case,' Patrick says and Alicia nods.
* * *
After the editor has left, Patrick and Alicia write their thousand words without mentioning anything about Daniel’s personality. They decide to simply say that he had friends on the islands and worked on Uffe's farm. The decision to mention Uffe was difficult. In the end, Patrick convinced Alicia that they had to give Harri something.
Forty-Six
When Patrick and Alicia walk out into the late afternoon sunshine, they are tired but relieved. It had been hard to convince Harri that the article contained everything they knew about the death of that poor boy. She could tell the editor sensed there was something they weren't telling him.
When they're outside, Patrick takes Alicia's hand. 'Look I know you don't believe me, but Mia and I are over.'
For a moment she doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at him. But she doesn't remove her hand from his either. When, at last, she lifts her pale eyes up to him, he has to fight the urge to kiss her. Instead he says, 'Why don't you let me take you out to dinner? I know a fantastic place.'
She gazes at him and hesitates. 'I don't know. I'm not dressed for going out.'
Seeing his chance, he moves a little closer to her, making sure he doesn't lose eye contact. 'It's a place in the archipelago used by sailors, so no one dresses up to go there. They cook freshly caught fish and have their own smoker for abborre.'
He knows most islanders who live abroad miss the local delicacy of wood-smoked perch. The fish taste different here, sweeter than the European species, because it swims in the brackish waters of the Baltic.
Alicia bites her lower lip and again Patrick has to control himself not to bend down, take her into his arms and press his mouth onto hers. But he has to be patient. He sees she's tempted.
'I'll behave, I promise,' he says and grins.
And that does it.
'OK,' Alicia says.
* * *
Alicia is again sitting next to Patrick on his boat. This time she's wearing more suitable clothes, a pair of jeans and one of Patrick's jumpers over her T-shirt. When she saw the Henri Lloyd logo on the navy knit, she smiled, but pulled it over her head anyway. The garment smells of him, and wearing it makes Alicia feel excited and safe at the same time. They've passed Sjoland canal and Uffe's farm, and her sauna cottage. Patrick said it would take about 45 minutes to reach the small Getviken island where the restaurant is. He sends a text to the owner to make a reservation.
'As I thought, Bertil’s got freshly caught abborre in the smoker,' Patrick told Alicia as he read the reply.
Alicia smiles at Patrick now. They are traveling fast, so there's no point in trying to talk. Instead Alicia enjoys the fresh sea breeze on her face and leans back to catch the rays of the sun.
The restaurant is as remote as Patrick had promised. Five or six tables are set in a small wooden building. The owner, Bertil, a gray-haired, shortish man with a round belly, greets Patrick and Alicia at the jetty with a wide smile. Alicia wonders if he knows Mia and whether everyone on the islands will know about Patrick and her after tonight, but she decides not to care, if Patrick doesn't. Which he doesn't seem to. Instead, he jokes and laughs with Bertil, whose lined, weather-beaten face reflects a life spent fishing in the waters around his island. He takes Alicia and Patrick around the back of the restaurant to the smoker, where the delicious smell of charred fish fills Alicia's nostrils. Suddenly she's famished.
Patrick places his hand protectively around Alicia's waist. 'Alicia here has come back home just because of this.'
Bertil laughs and Alicia explains that she's lived in London for the past eighteen years.
'Oh,' Bertil exclaims. 'Well, you won't get anything like this in England,' he says and adds, 'Now you two, aren't you thirsty after your long journey? Go inside and Miriam will give you something to drink. I'll bring these little fellows in when they're ready.'
* * *
Alicia cannot remember when she last enjoyed food so much. Before the abborre, which is served with new potatoes covered in chopped dill, Bertil brings them gravad siik. The whitefish is marinated in salt, sugar and pepper to perfection and goes perfectly with the sweet rye bread and homemade butter, which Bertil proudly explains is his wife, Miriam's, specialty.
To Alicia's relief, the restaurant is almost full with tourists. There's a large group of men from Finland who've arrived in three sailing boats, which are docked at the small harbor, as well as two other couples. Everyone is served at the same time from a small selection of freshly cooked dishes made from locally sourced fish and meat. The Finns take schnapps and sing drinking songs, and Alicia, Patrick and the other couples occasionally join in.
They sit opposite each other in a corner of the fishing cottage. The table has a small candle in the middle, but the place is shrouded in half-light due to the low ceiling and tiny windows. All evening, Patrick's eyes are fixed on Alicia's. It's impossible not to be affected by the general happy mood of the place, or Patrick's attentions.
As they are served coffee, she wants to ask Patrick so many questions about himself, Mia, and the situation. But she doesn't want to break the mood of the evening. She refuses dessert, but when she hears it's homemade Åland's Pannkaka, she gives in and agrees to share a portion with Patrick.
* * *
After the meal, which Patrick insists on buying, they step into the pale light of the day’s end. Patrick takes her hand and they gaze beyond the small jetty to the sea. Boats rock gently against their moorings and the scenery is even more breathtaking than at home in Sjoland. The sun is going down, suffusing the horizon in flaming orange, red and yellow. The light is reflected on the still water. There is no wind at all, and the sea beyond the cove has a surface like glass.
'Shall we have a swim?' Alicia asks Patrick. It's a spur of the moment suggestion. Really, she wants to talk to Patrick about his marriage, what will happen to his daughters, and about Frida and her pregnancy. But the evening, after such an incredible day with the news of the baby, has been so wonderful that she decides the conversation can wait. Perhaps Patrick will tell her about his future plans of his own accord, when he is ready.
She can see he's surprised by her suggestion, but says, 'Wait here. There's a place around the back that's private.' He walks down to the jetty and disappears inside his boat. A moment later he comes out carrying two large striped towels and a blanket.
Neither has brought swimming costumes.
When they get to the small rocky cove, Patrick spreads the blanket on a little grassy mound between two large rocks. He gives Alicia a grin and takes his shirt off. Following his example, Alicia pulls her jeans down and her T-shirt over her head. She doesn't dare to look at Patrick when she unhooks her bra and slips her knickers off. Instead she runs into the water and shrieks as the cold hits her calves and legs. She should be used to it by now, she thinks, as she lowers herself down and begins to take long strokes, her body relaxing into the cooler temperature of the sea. Suddenly, Patrick pops up from under the water and takes hold of her. They kiss, until breathless.
'We need to swim, it's too cold,' Alicia says.
'You think so?' Patrick says and grins. He's staring at her nipples, which are half-covered by the water. 'I rather like the effect.'
Alicia laughs and splashes water over him. She turns toward the open sea and begins to make strong strokes. As usual, the sensation of the water on her body calms and excites her in equal measure. It's almost too pleasurable.
After the swim, they sit wrapped up in the towels, watching a seagull bullying a flock of smaller birds. The only sounds are the bird calls and some music from the restaurant on the other side of the island. Patrick leans over to kiss Alicia and she lets him. But when he begins to explore her naked body beneath the towel, she stops. 'What
if someone sees us?'
'Hmm?' Patrick murmurs, not hearing what she said. He's caressing her left nipple while kissing her neck, his other hand moving downwards from her belly.
Alicia pushes him gently away. 'Let's get dressed and take the boat somewhere more secluded?'
Forty-Seven
Liam drives along the road from Mariehamn to Sjoland, thankful that he doesn't have to stop to wait for the bridge to open. He sees from the dashboard that it's quarter to midnight, yet the horizon is still pale yellow. The nightless nights always take him by surprise. In London it would be pitch-black now—except for the streetlights of course. He's pleased how quickly he’d disembarked. He is sure they got stuck in long lines in the past, though to be honest, he doesn't really remember. Because he didn't plan this trip, he’d ended up paying over the odds for the flight to Stockholm, and for the car at Stockholm airport. He’d got to the ferry port in Kapellskär just as the previous ferry was leaving, so had a long wait for the last transport of the day. For some reason he felt he needed to get onto the islands that same night.
During his long four-hour wait he had time to think as well as sleep. Several times he wondered if he should send Alicia a message, but he resisted the temptation. He knew he had let her down with his earlier behavior, and leaving like he did, so he wasn't sure she would want to see him now. It was best to surprise her, he thought.
He wonders now, as he makes his way along the deserted road toward Hilda and Uffe's place, if—once again—he is being stupid, coming after his wife like this, but he thinks he needs to give it one more chance. He knows he's been a fool, having an affair behind Alicia's back. She is the one he wants. He needs her, especially now.
He's glad to see a light in the sauna cottage as he turns into the little lane. He thinks back to all those summers they spent here, where he never felt at ease, but could see how happy it made Alicia to be home. He could understand her delight in how Stefan took to the islands; almost as if he had been born there. Perhaps Liam was jealous of the close connection between his son and wife? He doesn't know. All he is certain of now is that he was stupid not to see how much Alicia will always mean to him, and how much the islands mean to Alicia. But he is here now. He will even try to enjoy the sauna, if that's what it takes to get Alicia back.
* * *
'Do you know that you just had sex with a soon-to-be grandmother?' Alicia says and laughs. She's in Patrick's arms and for the first time since she doesn't remember when she feels almost completely happy. They are in Alicia's sauna cottage, lying on her sofa bed, listening to the evening chorus of the birds outside. After leaving Getviken, Alicia surprised herself by suggesting they drive back to Sjoland. She's fed up with going around worrying what people think. She will tell Uffe and Hilda the truth if they see her with Patrick. She can't wait to tell them about Frida's pregnancy anyway. After the news about Stefan's baby, she's almost giddy with the possibilities for the future. And Patrick could be part of her life here.
Patrick squeezes Alicia closer and kisses the top of her head. Alicia is amazed how quickly they fell back into each other’s arms, and how quickly she felt comfortable being naked with a new man. She lifts herself up on her elbows to look at him, to make sure he's real. With the movement, she reveals her breasts and Patrick gives them an approving glance.
Laughing, Alicia takes hold of his chin and says, 'What again?'
'Well, if you insist?'
As they start to kiss, they are interrupted by the sound of an engine outside. Wheels are crunching against the small lane Uffe prepared with hardcore.
Forty-Eight
When Liam knocks on door, he is nervous. There's a blind covering the windows overlooking the decking, but he can make out movements inside. Next, he hears steps on the wooden floorboards of the sauna cottage.
'Who is it?' Alicia says through the door.
'It's me, Liam.'
There is a long silence, and then more commotion inside. Liam doesn't understand. It sounds as if Alicia is talking to someone, but the voices are low and Liam can't hear what is being said. It sounds as if they are speaking in Swedish.
Eventually, Alicia opens the door. The first thing Liam sees is the unmade sofa bed. To one side of it, stands a man, wearing a white shirt, rumpled and unbuttoned, with a pair of chinos, with bare feet. He thinks he recognizes him, but he can’t process who he is. Liam turns to Alicia, who is also barefoot, wearing a long striped Marimekko T-shirt. The shirt, or dress, barely covers Alicia's buttocks. Liam notes how bronzed and slender her legs are, and then how ruffled her long hair is. She looks blonder and her face has a healthy tan, like the rest of her body. Is that a blush on her cheeks?
And then it hits him. Suddenly he realizes what he is seeing. As if in slow motion, he notices the man is putting on his shoes, picking up a set of car keys and walking toward Alicia, who is still holding the door open to Liam. The man bends down to kiss her—his wife, for God's sake—on the lips (lips!).
'Are you sure you are OK?' the man asks Alicia.
She nods and touches his arm briefly. Intimately.
The man nods to Liam, with a serious face, brushing past Liam's jacket and disappearing out of the door. Bizarrely the first thought that comes to Liam is where this man's car could be, but he ignores his stupid old brain and tries to concentrate on understanding what his eyes are seeing in front of him.
Alicia, his wife, is looking at him. The room is messy, and filled with the sofa bed. The duvet is half on top of the sheets and half on the floor; one of the two pillows is also on the floor. There's a bottle of beer on the floor too, with a glass of wine on the narrow coffee table, which has been pushed to the side of the room. Liam tries to remember when he last saw a scene like this and suddenly realizes he is thinking about his son's bedroom when he’d had friends over. They too had been drinking beer and wine, and there was a similar mess. He remembers telling them off and asking where the alcohol had come from.
'You've turned into a teenager, now, have you?' he asks Alicia.
What a stupid thing to say.
He hears the sarcasm in his voice and tries to calm himself. His thoughts are filled with the image of the man and Alicia in that bed, drinking beer and wine.
'Are you coming in?' Alicia now says. She has her arms crossed over her body, no longer holding onto the door.
Liam realizes he hasn't moved from the threshold of the sauna cottage, so he steps inside the messy room.
Alicia removes some clothing from one of the wood-framed chairs. Liam remembers joking that they must be pre-war, because the woollen fabric was so threadbare. Now his jibe seems childish, or even visceral, a betrayal of his deep resentment against Alicia’s close connection to these islands.
Betrayal, that's the word.
* * *
Alicia is sitting on the bed, facing Liam. She's dumbfounded by his sudden appearance. Acutely aware of the shortness of her night-shirt, she tugs at the hem, and then lifts her legs up and tucks them underneath herself. She thinks with horror about the scent of sex that must surely linger in the air of the small cottage and fidgets with her wedding band. She's only aware of this because she sees Liam glance at her finger. She stops and forces herself to speak.
'You should have let me know you were coming.'
'Clearly,' Liam replies in the crisp, cool, sarcastic tone she used to hate.
Alicia regards her husband with what she hopes is a cool gaze. What right does he have to sit there and judge her? Obviously, it would have been better if he hadn't walked in on her and Patrick, but really, she has every right to find someone to comfort her, considering he has been sleeping with another woman for months.
'How's your little nurse?' Alicia asks. She is angry now and wants Liam to understand that she does not feel any shame. Why would she?
She can see her words take him aback. He presses his hair down at the back of his head and looks away from Alicia, toward the small window at the side of the cottage. Alicia sees he's we
aring his light wool 'traveling' jacket over a crisp checked shirt, a pair of chinos and his old brown Dockers on his feet. He's not wearing any socks, and Alicia can see a few dark hairs peeking out between the tops of his shoes and trouser legs. He looks younger and slimmer, and she wonders briefly, out of old habit and before she can stop herself, if he's been feeding himself. He looks tired too, with untidy (for him) longish hair that lands on the collar of his jacket and half covers his ears. Alicia's anger subdues a little. How familiar Liam's athletic shape is, as he sits opposite her in the small sauna cottage, where they often slept.
'It's over,' Liam says, lifting his eyes to Alicia.
'That's alright then,' Alicia says. It's her turn to be sarcastic, but she regrets her words as soon as they've come out.
Liam is slumped in the chair. He's holding onto the old wooden arm rests. It's as if what he witnessed as he entered the sauna cottage is only just registering. His eyes are downcast and he looks crestfallen when he says, 'I don't suppose it matters now.'
Alicia then takes a snap decision.
'We're going to be grandparents.'
Liam straightens his back and stares at Alicia.
'What do you mean?'
'It's a miracle, I know. Frida, a girl from Åland, was Stefan's girlfriend and she is about to have his baby.'
Alicia tells Liam about the newspaper office and about Frida, Daniel, and how she found out. When Liam doesn't say anything, Alicia moves toward her husband and squats next to him, taking his hand. 'I know it's a lot to take in and believe me, I was equally shocked. Frida is a lovely girl, a bit different, but a really nice young woman at the bottom of it all. She is eight months gone, so there's not long to wait now. Just imagine, we will have a little Stefan in our lives!'