by Helena Halme
Patrick nods and stretches out his hand, replying also in English, 'What about?'
The man ignores his hand and says, 'You know perfectly well.'
Patrick sighs.
'I want to talk to you about Alicia,' the man says after a short silence.
Patrick gestures toward his boat. They're standing right by Mirabella. Patrick steps onboard and begins to uncover the cockpit seats. 'I promise we won't leave the jetty,' he says glancing back at Liam.
I can spot a non-sailor a mile off.
After a while Liam steps uncertainly onto the deck and resumes his legs-wide-apart stance. He goes to take hold of the gunwale, but sees him watching, so sits down instead. Patrick smiles and opens the fridge. He pulls out two cans of beer and hands one of them to the man. He opens the tin and takes a swig.
'So, what is it? You left your woman and now you want her back, that it?'
Liam holds the unopened can, looking down at his feet. He's wearing a pair of Dockers at least, Patrick thinks.
Trying to blend in and look the part. But anyone can see he's not from the islands by his tidy checked shirt tucked into his pristine chinos.
‘We’ve been married for 18 years,' Liam says in a quiet, calm voice, looking directly at Patrick. When he doesn't reply, the man continues, 'And we were happy—very happy—until,' here he pauses for a moment. 'Until we lost Stefan.'
Patrick holds Liam's gaze. He can't but feel sorry for him. He read somewhere in a magazine article that there are no words, not in English, Spanish, Arabic, or Hebrew, that have been invented to explain what it's like to lose a child. How true, he thought, and the most overwhelming sense of gratitude, an almost spiritual experience, for having escaped that inexplicable grief, overwhelms him. He remembers how happy he and Mia had been at their luck. Of course, he now thinks bitterly, he didn't then know about their doomed future together. That reminds him of what he knows about Liam.
'So happy that you had have an affair?'
The expression on Liam's face tightens.
'You don't understand anything,' he says, getting up. His movement makes the boat shift, and he takes hold of the edge of the seat to keep his balance.
Patrick puts his can down and opens up his palms. 'Look, if Alicia had been happy, she wouldn't have turned to me,' he says. He has no desire to fight with the guy. 'She's her own woman.'
‘That she certainly is,’ Liam says and steps off onto the jetty. But instead of walking away, he turns back toward Patrick. 'She's been through a lot. I just don't want her to get hurt again. What I really wanted to ask you is how well do you know Frida Anttila?'
The sun is in Patrick's eyes and he lifts his hand to shade them in order to see the man's face. Liam is standing slightly above him.
'She's a good kid.'
'Would she lie about the baby's father?'
Patrick thinks for a moment, 'No, I don't think so. Why would she?'
Liam sighs and says, 'Money, of course.'
'She doesn't need money! Her dad is loaded.'
Liam stares at Patrick for a moment. 'Thank you for your time.'
'No worries,' Patrick says, but Liam doesn't hear him because he's already striding along the jetty toward the road and the low buildings in the center of Mariehamn.
Fifty-Four
Hilda is shivering inside the shop in spite of the sun blazing down from a clear sky outside. It's one of those early July days when it was possible to imagine she was somewhere completely different, like Estepona in Spain, where Uffe had taken her during their first year together.
Hilda sighs. Before their marriage, when Uffe was attentive, booking the best table at the Arkipelag, they'd dance the night away. They would often be the last ones in their group of friends to go home.
Uffe has lived on the islands all his life, so knows almost everyone, and in those days they had a large social circle. Slowly, this circle had disappeared. One of the couples now lives in Spain half of the year, several have since divorced and moved to Finland or Sweden. The rest are such miserable company that Hilda refuses to go out with them. Uffe has the odd beer out with his old classmates in town, but that’s it.
The lack of a social life, however, is not the reason Hilda is out of sorts this morning. Naturally the death of the Romanian boy has upset both of them, as has pressure to repay her loan to the Russians, which Uffe eventually agreed to foot. But it's the news that her son-in-law delivered yesterday afternoon that is playing on Hilda's mind. Hilda's English isn't as good as it used to be, but she got the main points of Liam’s revelations, she's sure of that.
Hilda can't believe that her wonderful grandson would have associated himself with someone like Frida Anttila. She hasn't spoken to the girl much but has seen her around. She would be difficult to miss with her awful spiky hair and strange clothes. What is it with young women these days, Hilda wonders, and she shakes her head. She looks around her shop, at the beautiful things she has filled it with, none of which the girls in the town want to buy, it seems.
Uffe's ultimatum to shut the shop down at the end of the summer if her sales don't improve plays on her mind briefly, but the prospect of having a great-grandchild by that awful girl consumes her. She knows her mother of course.
Sirpa Anttila worked at Arkipelag as a waitress for years and years. She's from Finland like Hilda, but more than ten years younger. She had Frida at a late age and Hilda remembers the rumors about who the father was, fueled when she suddenly moved into one of the expensive new apartments in the center of town. A rich Russian oligarch, they said, but neither Hilda or Uffe ever saw her with anyone. She brought up Frida alone.
The poor woman became an alcoholic, although no one knew until one day she had a stroke right in the middle of the Arkipelag restaurant. Uffe had taken Hilda for a rare night out just before Christmas a couple of years ago, when they heard the most awful noise. The tray of empty glasses and bottles that Sirpa had been carrying clattered to the floor and the woman fell down like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Frida, who had been in Stockholm Gymnasium studying for her Baccalaureate exams at the time, immediately came home to take care of her, but couldn't cope in the end. Sirpa Anttila was now in the old people's home in town. Hilda heard from one of Uffe's friends that the girl visits her mother every day and that the bills for the home are paid by an unknown benefactor.
Frida's Russian father?
Hilda pulls her sand-colored cashmere shawl tighter around her shoulders and thinks about the awful possibility that her great-grandchild may have Russian blood. And that's not all. Hilda is nowhere near old enough to become a great-grandmother! Alicia herself is only 38!
No, the whole affair cannot be true, Hilda thinks. Where is the evidence that Stefan had been with the girl? Hilda, nor Uffe, had ever seen them together. Plus, they were so young! Hilda suddenly remembers that she herself fell pregnant with Alicia at the age of seventeen. She gave birth two weeks after her eighteenth birthday.
But times were different then, she thinks. At least Alicia's father did the right thing and married her. That he then left when Alicia was only a baby is another matter. Good riddance, Hilda had thought at the time. He was a selfish pig of a man and Hilda is glad she kept him away from Alicia all these years. In the beginning, it hadn't been hard, but when Alicia began to grow up and start asking questions, Hilda had decided to tell her he was dead. It was as good as true, anyway. She had hidden all the letters that her old landlady in Finland had forwarded.
In those days it was so much easier, without all this internet activity. Luckily, in the end he gave up when she moved to Åland and married Uffe and was able to change her and Alicia's surname without him knowing.
But what to do about Frida and the baby? Liam had given Hilda quite a shock when he walked into the shop yesterday. She didn't know he'd come back to the islands, but she was glad. Alicia would be foolish to let such a good man go. A surgeon! But Liam hadn't wanted to talk about Alicia. No, he just said that there was no prob
lem, that he and Alicia would be staying at the Arkipelag for a few days, to 'talk'. Imagine Hilda's surprise when she saw her daughter on Uffe's old bicycle in Sjoland, riding fast toward Mariehamn that same morning. She’d turned her nose up at that same bike only days before. She had a good mind to send a text to her daughter asking what an earth was going on, but Uffe convinced her not to interfere.
'Let them sort it out themselves,' he said over the rim of his breakfast coffee.
Uffe was a man of few words, so when he did speak, Hilda usually took notice, even if this particular dilemma had nothing to do with Uffe, strictly speaking.
In any case, when Liam had dropped the baby bomb in this same shop twenty-four hours earlier, she forgot all about her daughter's marital worries. She was so shocked she didn't ask many questions.
'Can you try to convince your daughter that this is not a cut and dried thing?' Liam said.
Hilda nodded, 'You think Frida’s lying?'
Her son-in-law nodded, 'Most certainly.'
'But why?' Hilda had spluttered. Even if she isn't particularly fond of the idea, she couldn't for the life of her think why Frida Anttila would feel the need to lie about it.
'I don't know.' Liam had crossed his arms over his chest. He’d been wearing nice clothes, Hilda had noticed. To impress Alicia? His striped shirt looked expensive, as had the dark brown chinos. On his feet he’d been wearing his brown Dockers.
A thought now enters Hilda's mind. There was something very different about Liam yesterday. He seemed more confident, more approachable. Not happier, but more settled in himself and more assertive.
Perhaps he's got another woman already?
As the owner of a fashion shop, Hilda knew that the first thing a woman changes in a man is his appearance. Perhaps that's why he is staying at the Arkipelag rather than in the sauna cottage with Alicia? Hilda puts her hand over her mouth and decides she must do something. Whatever Uffe said last night. Neither of them understood the severity of the situation then. She goes over to the door to turn the 'Sorry, we're shut' sign on. She glances at her watch and sees that it is nearly 10am. She locks the door of the shop behind her, and with a determined gait, crosses the road and heads toward the Ålandsbladet offices.
* * *
Alicia is typing furiously at her computer when Liam enters the newspaper office.
'What are you doing here,' she says before she has time to think how rude this sounds. I'm already going back to being a Finn, she thinks, and adds, 'Sorry.'
She gets up and steps closer to Liam. Out of old habit she slips her hand around his waist and brushes her lips over his.
Liam stands as if frozen into place. He touches his lips and says, 'Can you talk?' He glances sideways at the other two people working in the open-plan office. One of them is Frida, who is pretending she didn't see Liam enter, and isn’t covertly watching him and Alicia. But Alicia notices the glance and says, 'Frida, would you join us for a coffee?'
‘Let's go into the kitchen,' Alicia adds and stretches her hand toward the door at the side. Frida rolls her eyes but gets up and walks into the kitchen. She's wearing a bright yellow dress over a pair of see-through black leggings and her red Doc Martens. Her tummy is very visible now, and as Alicia glances toward the editor in his glass cubicle, she wonders if Frida has finally told their boss about her condition. Alicia sees that Harri is watching them. 'I'll just have a word here,' she says in a quiet voice to Liam, nodding toward the glass office. 'Be nice!' she adds, widening her eyes at Liam.
Liam nods and follows Frida.
Fifty-Five
Patrick has been sitting in his boat for the last half-hour, thinking about why Liam came to see him. He's decided it wasn't to do with Alicia, but with Frida and the baby. The man seemed fairly confident about his relationship with Alicia. Is the baby the only reason, or has he managed to worm his way back into Alicia's good books? What happened to her the other day? Did she sleep with her husband?
Patrick doesn't understand how Alicia could possibly forgive Liam for his affair. He knows how it hurts to think about someone you love—loved—with another person. The images of Mia with someone else keep flashing in front of his eyes. He hasn't met the guy yet, but he knows exactly who it is from his internet searches. Good-looking, muscular, a little shorter than Patrick, but a successful property developer. Patrick doesn't care about Mia any longer, but he knows how he felt when he first found out about the affair. Even now, twelve months later, it sometimes hurts when she doesn't look at him the way she used to.
Patrick sighs. Just as he thought he had found someone else, the ex comes flying in (literally). Well, this time he isn't going to give up without a fight. Patrick gets up, locks the cabin door in the boat and steps onto the jetty. He knows Alicia cannot resist him if he gets her on his own. It's worth a try at least, he thinks.
* * *
When Alicia opens the door to the kitchen, she is faced with a silence. Frida is standing by the window, looking at the boats bobbing gently up and down in the East Harbor. The wind had been strong last night, before a band of rain swept through the islands in the small hours. Alicia had been up worrying about Liam and Frida and the baby. Now the sun is out and the temperature is in the twenties. Alicia looks at Liam, who's sitting down. The only sound is the burbling of the percolator on the kitchen top.
Alicia takes a deep breath, but just as she is about to speak, the door opens and Hilda bursts in.
'Here you are!' she says looking from Alicia to Liam. When she spots Frida, who's turned away from the window, she opens her mouth and blurts out, 'Ah, Frida.' Even just saying her name, Hilda sounds disapproving and formal. Alicia doesn't know what to do. Should she ask her mother to leave?
'This is nice—the whole family together!' Frida says with such sarcasm in her voice that Alicia feels the heavy weight of the difficult conversation they are about to have. She sits down at the table. She might as well let her mother weigh in too; they will all have to get used being one family.
Frida remains standing, with her arms crossed over her now quite considerable belly, as does Hilda, who seems to be unable to move.
Liam is the first one to speak.
'Look, Frida, you must understand our shock over your news. We are all delighted, of course, if ...' Liam looks from Frida to Alicia to Hilda.
Alicia notices that he's chosen his words carefully, so that he is understood in English.
'Why don't you sit down, Hilda. And Frida?' Alicia says in Swedish.
The older woman sits down first, next to Alicia, taking her hand and squeezing it, as if Alicia is ill. Alicia gives her mother a 'be nice' look, and Hilda smiles and nods at her. Alicia returns the smile and takes her hand away.
'Please, Frida, can we now talk about this?' she says, pleading with the girl. Alicia has switched to English. 'Liam — and I — would very much like to know about you and our son.'
Frida pauses, looks at them and shrugs. Dropping her arms by her side, she walks to the round table and sits on the other side of Alicia.
Liam places his arms on the table and knits his fingers together. Again he speaks.
'Thank you, Frida. As you know, Alicia and I—and the whole family—were devastated when we lost Stefan.'
'As was I!' Frida says. Her voice is loud, but shaky, and Alicia sees she's near to breaking down. She puts her arm around the girl and is surprised when she doesn't shrug it away. 'It's OK. We just want to help and understand, you know?'
Frida nods. She lowers her eyes and leans in toward Alicia.
Both Hilda and Liam are looking at Alicia and Frida. Alicia raises her eyebrows at them. She wants her mother to remain calm and to make Liam understand that Hilda's involvement will only make matters worse.
'OK, Frida, you have no idea what wonderful news it is that you are having our son's baby,' Liam says, at which Frida lifts her eyes toward him.
Alicia watches her mother.
So she already knows!
'But,' Lia
m continues, and Frida says, 'I knew it!' But she stays seated, letting Alicia hold her.
'You must understand that we are puzzled. We never saw you together, and nor did Hilda,' Liam nods to Alicia's mother and continues, 'So to hear that you were, hmm, that close, is a surprise to us. A wonderful surprise, but perhaps you could tell us more about what—and how—well, perhaps not how, but when did you meet, and where, and that sort of thing?'
Frida is fiddling with a ring on her finger and mutters, 'I already told Alicia.'
'Yes, but we need to hear it too. Hilda will be a great-grandmother and I will be a grandfather.' At the last word Liam suddenly stops. Alicia sees that the news has finally hit him.
He's beginning to believe it.
'And we will have something of what we lost with our dear son,' he continues, more quietly now. Alicia stretches out her other hand and puts it over Liam's fingers, which are still laced together on the table. He gives her a grateful smile and continues in a more steady tone.
'I would love to hear all of it.'
Liam looks around the table and adds, 'As I am sure we all would.'
Fifty-Six
'At first we were just friends, but then we fell in love.'
When Frida begins to talk, it's in a low, barely audible voice at first, but slowly she begins to gain confidence. Alicia can hear the joy and love she shared with Stefan. Frida tells them how she first met Stefan at a summer camp years ago, and then fell in love at the reunion last summer. How Stefan had made her laugh, and how they'd agreed to see each other again. The day after the reunion they met in Mariehamn, mostly in the English Park, just talking until Alicia came to collect Stefan.
'He was going home the next day but we kept in touch online,' Frida says and looks at Liam, whose face is now softer. He nods and Frida continues her story.