by Helena Halme
Kaisa cursed herself. She should have been braver. If this was true, she needed to stay married for at least seven years to be able to say and work in England. Otherwise she’d have to apply for a work permit, which she knew she wouldn’t get for her job at Adam’s Apple. Every week they got a letter or two asking if there were any jobs going at the magazine from school leavers, and even graduates in journalism. Most of the letters were written in terrible English, but some of them were good, and these were kept in a special file on the shelf behind Rose’s desk. Any one of those girls could replace Kaisa in the blink of an eye.
When she got back to Colville Terrace, Kaisa took out the scrap of paper on which she’d written Ravi’s number.
‘Hi Ravi, I’m feeling better.’
Kaisa didn’t come clean to Ravi about why she wanted to see him until they were sitting opposite each other in a Chinese restaurant. She’d planned to tell him on the phone, but he had sounded so elated about her change of heart that she couldn’t bring herself to spoil it. When she saw his wide smile outside Tottenham Court Road tube station, she walked up to him and let him kiss her on the cheek. He suggested going to see a film, Letter to Brezhnev, at nearby Leicester Square Odeon. When they were out of the cinema, sitting in a restaurant in China Town, Ravi said, ‘That wasn’t very diplomatic of me, was it?’
Kaisa smiled, ‘Actually, the theme sort of touched upon the reason I wanted to see you.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, finding, and, in my case, losing love during the Cold War. My husband wants a divorce.’
Ravi’s beautiful face was suddenly serious. There was also a look of disappointment in the line of his mouth. Kaisa wanted to tell him that she also really liked his company, but that she just wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. She might have been, had she not seen Peter again. But she couldn’t tell him the truth about last night, not yet. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve come out with you under false pretences. I need your help,’ Kaisa said.
Ravi gazed at Kaisa for a long time. ‘I’m not a divorce lawyer,’ he said finally.
‘I know, and that’s not what I meant.’ Kaisa told Ravi about what she’d found out in the library. The man sat opposite her and listened. The restaurant was a large room, where round tables, covered in crisp white linen, were set out in the middle of the room. Small Chinese women walked in and out of a set of swing door at the far end, pushing a trolley filled with bamboo steamers and bowls covered with small silver domes. Each time they moved through the doors, smells of cooking wafted into the dining room. Ravi had ordered for them both, because Kaisa had never been to a Chinese restaurant before, and the menu didn’t have an English translation. They’d been given bowls of rice and a sticky vegetable dish, but they hadn’t touched them yet. Kaisa hoped Ravi wouldn’t be angry with her. She didn’t know him at all, but she was desperate. Ravi was the only lawyer she knew.
When Kaisa had finished speaking, Ravi picked up a set of chopsticks and smartly moved a piece of courgette from the dish into his mouth. Kaisa watched him and waited.
‘OK,’ Ravi said and carefully set down his chopsticks on a side plate. Absentmindedly, Kaisa noticed how slender his fingers were.
‘This is not my area of expertise. I’m a commercial lawyer, but I have dealt with a few work permits for Swiss residents in the bank.’ He lifted his eyes up to Kaisa and continued. ‘You are correct in that you will lose your right to stay in Britain, and your work permit, if you divorce. If you had had a child with your husband, that would be a different matter. In that case, you’d be able to stay as you are now. Another issue is the length of marriage. Here there are two problems. Firstly, since the marriage has been so short, less than seven years, as you correctly found out, you will simply lose your leave to stay. Secondly, and here I need to give a word of caution, if it is deemed that your marriage was a sham, in other words, you married under false pretences, both of you could be charged with an offence against the Immigration Act. It will normally only result in a fine, so there’s no danger of a custodial sentence. However, if you were to stay after your divorce, then you may be detained under the Immigration Act, until you are deported back to Finland.’
Kaisa noticed how he avoided saying Peter’s name and couldn’t help but smile, which she suppressed as soon as she saw Ravi’s serious expression. ‘I see,’ she said, and added, ‘What do you think I should do?’
Their conversation was interrupted by the delivery of more food. A smiling lady placed a steaming bamboo dish from her trolley in front of them and bowed. ‘Please,’ she said and carried on towards the next table.
Kaisa picked up a hot dumpling. ‘This is delicious!’ she said, and now Ravi smiled.
‘Look, you really need to go and see a family lawyer, or someone who specialises in immigration law. You could try the Citizens Advice Bureau.’ Ravi lifted his dark eyes at Kaisa. ‘But I think the best option is to stay married.’
* * *
On Monday, when Kaisa got to the office, Rose was already there.
‘So, how did it go on Friday?’
Kaisa slumped down in her chair and said, ‘He wants a divorce.’
Rose came over and perched herself on Kaisa’s desk, ‘Oh, my dearest. But, you know, this might be for the best.’
‘Yes,’ Kaisa said and added, ‘so I went out with Ravi on Saturday.’
Rose smiled, ‘Good girl!’
Kaisa didn’t tell Rose why she’d met up with Ravi. She didn’t want Rose to think she might lose her permit to stay in England, so she just smiled and picked up the list of companies Rose had given her the previous week. With the increased reader figures, the magazine was writing to as many potential advertisers as possible. Rose had told Kaisa that the magazine was still losing money. The letters all said the same, but Rose didn’t want to send photocopies. ‘Not personal enough,’ she said, so Kaisa’s job was to write fifty letters that were identical apart from the person’s name and address. It was boring work, but Kaisa didn’t mind it. As long as she could stay in London and work for Adam’s Apple, she’d be happy. The idea of asking Peter to forget about a divorce and stay married to her for another six years so that she’d be able to stay in the UK sent a chill down her spine. How would she be able to ask Peter that? She decided she’d just have to get in touch with him and explain the situation. At the end of their unusually unromantic evening, Ravi had asked her if she wanted to see him again. His eyes were so very brown and his mouth so very full that Kaisa couldn’t resist him and had said, ‘Yes, but I am a bit confused, so …’
Ravi had taken her hands into his over the table and said, ‘I understand.’
He was such a gentleman, and so good-looking, but Kaisa had noticed how they’d received sideways glances by people on the street. When they’d queued up to buy their tickets at Tottenham Court Road tube station, an older man had stared at them so intently that Kaisa thought he would say something. Not letting go of Kaisa, Ravi had straightened himself up and looked back at the man. Eventually the man had muttered something under his breath and turned towards the woman behind the glass. Ravi lived in north London, so they’d parted ways at the bottom of the escalator. ‘May I kiss you,’ Ravi had said, causing Kaisa to smile. After a moment’s hesitation she replied, ‘Yes.’
Ravi took hold of Kaisa’s waist, and pulled her close to him. His lips were soft, and when they met Kaisa’s mouth, she relaxed into Ravi’s arms. The kiss lasted just for a few seconds, but it was so gentle that Kaisa had an odd dreamy sensation all the way to Notting Hill Gate. In bed that night, she half wished she’d asked Ravi to come home with her, but she knew she couldn’t have gone through with anything. It was just lovely to be kissed by a man after such a long time. Kaisa tried to brush away the memory of Peter’s lips against hers in June. She must forget all romantic ideas she had of their continued relationship and move on. It was obvious he had. All she needed was for him to postpone the divorce. She hoped he’d agree to stay married for the sake of her work
permit – and career.
During her lunch hour, Kaisa used the telephone box on the street corner and telephoned the wardroom at Devonport. ‘Can I speak with Lieutenant Peter Williams, please?’
‘Just a moment, madam,’ came the reply from a man at the other end. Kaisa had half expected them to tell her he wasn’t available. Still, he probably didn’t know and had to check. Kaisa hoped that Peter hadn’t sailed yet; at the same time, she was nervous about having to speak with him. But she couldn’t risk him talking to a lawyer, and starting the divorce proceedings, before she’d told him what the consequences would be for her. Or perhaps he knew? No, that couldn’t be. Kaisa remembered how friendly their dinner had been – or more than friendly. It had been like old times until he’d dropped the bombshell.
‘Yes,’ the voice at the other end of the line said.
‘Peter?’ Kaisa found she was suddenly breathless.
‘Kaisa?’ Peter’s voice was full of surprise. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, no,’ Kaisa heard the concern in his voice. She was touched; he still cared for her! ‘But I need to speak to you about what we discussed on Friday.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, it’s a bit difficult on the phone. I’m in a telephone box outside my office, and, well, there’s a guy waiting to use the phone.’ Kaisa looked at the man through the dirty glass of the phone box. He was wearing a suit, watching her every move and listening to her every word. ‘It’s not very private,’ she added, giving the man a look, but he continued to stand there, close to the door.
‘Right,’ Peter said. He was quiet for a moment, thinking.
Kaisa didn’t dare say anything, and just waited.
‘Look, we’re sailing on Friday, and I don’t have any leave before that.’
‘I see.’
‘But, if you can get yourself here, I’m off till tomorrow evening.’
‘To Plymouth?’
‘Yes, unless it can wait six weeks?’
Kaisa was thinking hard. A return ticket to Plymouth would be expensive, but she could manage it. She’d have to leave work early, and come back with the last train of the day. Or perhaps with the milk train that ran through the night.
‘Ok,’ she said and Peter told her the train she needed to catch. He’d come and meet her at the station.
* * *
It took nearly four hours to get to Plymouth, so on the long journey she practised what she would say to Peter. She first thought she’d ask him why he wanted a divorce, but then realised that she didn’t want to hear his reasons. No, the best thing was just to come out and say it. Explain how much she loved working for Adam’s Apple, and that she needed to be married to continue working in the UK.
Twenty-Five
Plymouth
Peter was standing on the platform in Plymouth, wearing a pair of cords and a light blue cotton shirt. He’d tied a jumper around his shoulders. It was early September, but the weather was still warm, even with the sun just setting behind the drab-looking 1960s railway building. Kaisa walked nervously towards him, but couldn’t help but smile and quicken her step when she saw the grin on his face. For a moment, she felt as if everything that had happened during the past year was forgotten. As if any moment now, Peter would open up his arms and welcome her into his embrace. But when she got close to him, he continued to stand motionless, looking at her. She was conscious of the clothes she’d chosen for the journey. She was wearing a skirt for once, instead of her ‘boy clothes’, and her beige boots that she knew Peter liked. She wore a mohair jumper over a strappy vest, and had taken a small overnight case with make-up and a change of underwear in case she needed to go straight to the office from the train the next morning.
‘Hi,’ Kaisa said and stopped in front of him.
‘Am I allowed to hug you?’ Peter said, after they’d stood facing each other for a while. The train had emptied of people, most of whom had walked past them, some giving them odd looks for standing in the middle of the concourse, in their way. Now the platform was empty.
Kaisa didn’t say anything but nodded and moved closer to Peter. He put his arms around her, first tentatively, then firmly, and hugged her hard.
Kaisa breathed in Peter’s scent. He’d used his familiar coconut scented aftershave, and the smell of it made Kaisa feel faint. She’d dropped her bag on the platform, and now lifted her hands and wrapped them around him. His body felt taut, as he squeezed her hard. Quickly, he let go of her and took hold of her bag. ‘This way,’ Peter said and guided her through the low-slung building towards the car park. His new car was another sports model, but this time it was red and a lot bigger than the Fiesta, or the yellow Spitfire he’d had when Kaisa first visited him in Portsmouth five years ago.
‘Nice car,’ she said while Peter busied himself with getting the roof down. ‘A Golf GTI,’ he said with some pride. ‘Get in,’ he added and put on a pair of aviator sunglasses.
They drove through the city, which was a combination of old white-clad buildings and new high-rises. After the crowded streets of London, Plymouth seemed to be deserted. With the roof down, Kaisa could sense the presence of the sea, even though she hadn’t yet glimpsed it. There were the familiar calls of the seagulls and the unmistakable smell of seaweed. The place reminded Kaisa of Portsmouth, and also of Helensburgh. They drove through a street that had grey cement buildings set onto a hillside, just like the Scottish naval quarter estate. Kaisa looked away – she didn’t want to be reminded of that place. The sounds and smells of the sea did make her miss Portsmouth, however, and she wanted to share this with Peter, but she remained quiet. She didn’t want to start an argument, which reminiscing about old times might bring about. But she could still feel his strong arms around her, and if that wasn’t going back to old times, what was? She glanced at Peter’s profile. His mouth was set into a half-smile, as it always used to be, before Helensburgh. She couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes because of the sunglasses. She suddenly remembered that they hadn’t really argued properly since before Peter’s fight with Duncan.
Peter parked the car near the seafront, in an area he said was called the Barbican. ‘There’s a decent French restaurant here.’ They walked side by side down a narrow street, with stone-clad houses on either side and the dark blue sea beyond. The restaurant was called Chez Marie and Peter and Kaisa were shown to a table in the corner of a small room. It was covered with pink linen and set with long candles. Peter ordered himself a beer and Kaisa a G&T.
‘You look good,’ Peter said and grinned.
‘Thank you,’ Kaisa replied, and added, ‘so do you.’ Peter’s eyes looked intensely dark. He continued to smile at Kaisa, and she wondered if he knew what she was about to ask him. Or had he had a change of heart? The place was nearly full; only one other table was unoccupied, and there was a pleasant low murmur of other people’s conversations, which made Kaisa feel more comfortable about what she needed to talk to Peter about.
Kaisa turned her eyes towards the menu and asked if Peter had been there before.
‘Yes,’ he said.
Kaisa tried to look at his face, but he too had his head bent over the menu, a black folder in which the first two pages listed the choice of wines. Kaisa looked around the room. All the other tables were occupied by couples; this restaurant was obviously where you took a girlfriend, or your wife. So, who had Peter brought here? The dark-haired girl from the party?
‘I think I’ll have the Dover sole,’ Kaisa said.
‘You not having a starter?’
Kaisa glanced back at the menu and made a snap decision. ‘OK, I’ll have the moules marinieres.’
Peter looked up at her and grinned. ‘Good girl, I’ll have it too, and the steak with chips.’
As soon as they’d put down their menus, the waiter came to the table and took their order in heavily accented English. He nodded at Kaisa when she told him her choices, and looked deeply in her eyes when he said, ‘Very good, madam, the Dover sole is deliciou
s.’ Peter placed his order and asked for a bottle of white wine and a glass of red to have with his steak later.
When they were alone, Peter lifted his beer glass. ‘The food is very good here, so I hope you like it.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ Kaisa felt dizzy, the way Peter had told her she was a good girl reminded her of all the other times they’d eaten out. He knew she didn’t usually have starters, and only ordered one so that Peter could have one too. Peter was always hungry, whereas Kaisa’s appetite was much smaller. It was as if, since meeting at the station, they’d gone back in time, and were back in Portsmouth having a celebratory meal in one of the French places there.
The waiter brought the wine and there was the silly tasting bit, when Peter smiled at Kaisa as he sipped the wine and nodded his approval.
‘I have no idea if it’s any good or not!’ he said when the waiter had disappeared, and they both laughed.
‘We came here to celebrate one of the guys getting his Dolphins,’ Peter said, as if he’d known she was wondering about the girl.
‘Oh,’ Kaisa said.
‘Yes, he’s become a mate. Looks up to me a bit. Not that there’s much to look up to.’
‘Of course there is!’ Kaisa said. ‘Everyone was always telling me how good you are at your job,’ she added, before she could help herself.
Peter looked at her, and now his eyes had grown sad and serious. Kaisa knew she’d upset him with talk of the past. They were quiet for a while, both draining their glasses.
‘How’s Jeff?’ Kaisa said after another awkward silence.
Peter told Kaisa about Jeff’s wedding in Portsmouth Cathedral, and about the reception afterwards. ‘He asks after you,’ Peter said, and he lifted his eyes towards Kaisa.