by Helena Halme
‘Pia!’ screamed her mother.
‘Mum!’ Pia shouted. She started running towards Maija.
As she ran, Pia looked down Tehtaankatu and up the hill to Laivurintie – the man was gone. When she reached her mother, she looked breathless and angry.
‘Where the hell have you been, young girl!’
Pia looked into her eyes. They were as dark as the streets surrounding them. Her mother had never sworn at Pia before.
‘Well?’ her mother demanded, standing in front of Pia, suddenly taller, making her feel five years old.
‘Mum, please, let’s just go home. There was a man…’ Pia was shivering with the cold and fear. The foreign man could come back at any time. He might have just gone to get some help, an accomplice.
Pia’s mother gave Pia a long hard stare, ‘Yes, who was he? A drug dealer?’
‘No, I didn’t know him! He gripped me, if you hadn’t come, I don’t know what might have happened. Please, he might be back any minute!’
Her mother stared at her. ‘What have you got yourself involved with?’
‘Please Mum!’
Pia’s mother took hold of her wrist as if Pia was a child and started walking down the road. Pia felt tears well inside her.
Her mother dragged Pia along the street. Pia felt cold inside her down jacket. What was wrong with her mother? Why was she talking about drug dealers? Her mother was walking so fast, they were nearly running.
‘Mum, you’re hurting me!’ Maija let go of her. If only Pia had asked Heikki to come home with her. He would have hit the foreign man in the face, and afterwards they could have sat in her room and talked while her mother watched TV in the living room. Besides, Pia was sure her mother would not have acted so strangely in front of Heikki.
* * *
The snow fell faster, and everything looked as if it was covered in cotton wool. Maija walked in front of Pia without saying a word. Pia glanced behind them – the Russian man could turn up at any minute and do something horrible to her mother. Pia didn’t understand any of it.
Her mother opened the heavy outer door to the block of flats.
Pia said, ‘I want to tell you everything.’
Maija turned to look at Pia with her dark and angry eyes and said, ‘We’ll speak when we’re inside the flat. I don’t want the whole world to hear what you’ve been up to!’
Pia couldn’t understand why her mother was so angry. It wasn’t even eight o’clock. Hardly late for a grown-up daughter to come home, she thought.
* * *
Inside the flat, Maija acted like a KGB officer. She took Pia’s coat off, looked into all the pockets, sniffed her breath and examined her eyes. ‘You smell of cigarettes, or smoking, or whatever it is you’ve taken,’ she said.
Heikki’s smoking, Pia thought. ‘I went to Happy Days and everyone smoked there.’
Pia’s mother gave her an incredulous stare and told Pia to go and sit down at the kitchen table. Her hands shook as she filled the coffee machine.
‘I know everything, Pia.’
Pia stared at her mother. Underneath her coat she was wearing a cotton tracksuit the colour of baby’s vomit. She’d tucked the trouser bottoms inside woollen socks. The outfit made her look old.
‘Iain told me about the drugs!’ she said and put a hand over her mouth, to muffle a cry. Iain? Thought Pia. What’s happened to the Admiral?
‘Iain, is it now?’ Pia said. ‘Whatever the Admiral has told you, he’s lying. I have no idea what you are talking about. None of us take that stuff. It’s for kids who don’t know better!’
But Maija didn’t listen. She whispered, ‘Pia, I know it’s my fault. Oh, Pia! But I can only do so much on my own.’ She turned around and her shoulders started shaking. The only sounds in the room were Pia’s mother’s sniffles and the gurgles of the machine, dripping black drops of coffee into the glass jug.
‘Who are you going to believe, your own daughter or your fancy English boyfriend, who by the way…’
‘What about him?’ Her mother was now hysterical, screaming the words.
‘Oh nothing,’ Pia said. For Anni’s sake she must not tell her mother about the British Council. Pia couldn’t understand what the Admiral was playing at. Or had her mother got the wrong idea?
‘Iain said he had contacts, and that he knew that if not you, then some of your friends are taking drugs. And then the money went missing!’
‘The money?’
‘Last night I had two five hundred mark notes in my purse and now I only have one.’
‘And you think I took it,’ Pia whispered. She was hurt. Why was her mother being so stupid?
‘From now on you are not to go out in the evenings. And I forbid you to take part in that Russian Competition!’
‘Forbid me? You’re crazy!’ Pia had had enough, ‘Believe what you like,’ she said and went into her room. She turned the key in the lock and lay on her bed crying. Silently. She didn’t want her mother to hear. Let her wail and cry like an old Saami woman. If she wanted to believe the worst of Pia, it was her problem. What had got into her? And what did she have against the Friendship Tournament? Or did she just say that to be nasty? Why had the Admiral, or Iain, told her such lies? Typical that she would flip just as Pia needed her. Hadn’t she seen how close she had been to being abducted by some man? Pia shuddered and felt a dread in her chest. Who was the man with the stinking breath and what did he want with her?
Maija knocked on the door. She shouted Pia’s name, but soon stopped. Pia knew her mother wouldn’t want the neighbours to hear them fight.
* * *
Iain saw the lights on inside Maija’s flat. He considered whether he could make an unannounced visit late at night without arousing suspicions. He saw Maija reach and close the curtains, so sheer that you could see right through them. Maija seemed to be waving her arms about. But Iain could not make out if anyone was in the room with her. Lights came on in the room next to the kitchen, but the Venetian blinds were closed.
Iain stood for a long while hidden in the porch of the block of flats opposite Maija’s, watching for any more movement behind the kitchen curtains. He glanced at his watch; four minutes to nine. The lights in the kitchen went out and he could see a woman’s faint silhouette leaving the room. Iain decided to use the phone box by the Johannes Church.
‘I think they’re both at home.’
‘You think?’ Iain heard the sarcasm in the Colonel’s voice.
‘Well, I can’t believe Maija would go to bed without her daughter at home, Sir. Or do you wish me to make an approach? Might seem highly suspicious.’
The Colonel was quiet for a moment. The phone box smelled of urine. Iain wanted desperately to go back to his flat and get into a warm, clean bed instead of standing in the bitter Helsinki night, feeling unappreciated.
‘Alright, Collins, but tomorrow morning, before you leave, I want you there in the same spot to confirm that the girl is inside. Catch sight of her before she goes to school and report back to me.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And Collins – that boy, the girl’s boyfriend. No sight of him at the Council.’
‘Oh,’ said Iain. He had definitely seen him go in. And he’d locked the door after himself. ‘Must have heard your men and slipped out.’
‘Or heard you and fled before we got there.’ The Colonel said dryly. ‘But don’t concern yourself with him. I’ve got a pair of eyes following the lad’s every move now.’
Iain decided to walk home. He made his way back to Kasarminkatu for one last look at Maija’s windows, before he headed south towards his street. When he turned the corner, he saw a blond man, without a hat, walking a few paces in front of him. The ankle-length black leather coat made him look sinister and out of place. Iain ducked into a porch. The man walked along the snow-covered Kasarminkatu. He seemed in no hurry, despite the Helsinki chill. The man stopped outside Maija’s block of flats, looked up to the building opposite him and took a swig out of a
hip flask. Iain recognised him immediately: Vladsislas Kovtun.
8
Pia and Maija didn’t speak to each other the next morning. Over breakfast they sat silently eating bread and cheese. Pia was glad her mother had decided to keep her mad accusations to herself and relived when she heard the front door close. But she was also sad. Her anger towards her mother had evaporated during the long, sleepless night. Why did her mother have to be so stupid to think that Pia would get involved with drugs? But she was like that. Once she got something into her head, however trivial, she wouldn’t believe anybody. Pia remembered when she insisted that Bobby in Dallas was really called Jimmy. Pia had argued and argued, getting more and more angry, until they’d next seen the programme. Her mother had really been embarrassed then! If only she’d known how frightened Pia was now, not being able to sleep, and thinking about the man all night long. How had her mother missed the whole incident last night?
Pia watched from the kitchen window as Maija, with her head bent against the cold wind, walked briskly towards the tram stop. The night had brought more snow. Pia had heard the snow ploughs working since before dawn.
Some mornings Maija and Pia took the tram into town together. Pia got to school early, but she didn’t mind. It was nice to talk to her mother on the tram, instead of watching the same miserable people every day. Pia wished she’d gone with her mother after all. Now she’d have to face the tram on her own. What if the Russian was outside, waiting for her?
Pia ate more rye bread and drank black coffee. The dishes from the night before were still in the sink. Her mother had also left her own dirty breakfast things at the table for Pia to clear up. But she couldn’t move a muscle. She was so tired. The block of flats was quiet. The only noise was the humming of the engine outside, as the snow plough moved slowly past the building, its orange warning lights flickering against the grey dawn. Pia wanted to climb back into bed. She could see the wind lifting snow from the top of the piles the plough had created either side of the street. Spirals of white flew upwards as the wind took hold of the newly fallen flakes.
Should she bunk off school today? No, she needed to train with Miss Joutila. And there was a chance Anni would be back. Plus she didn’t want to miss seeing Heikki. She would tell him about the man and ask him to protect her. Pia thought of his lips. Would he hold her hand as they walked into the classroom this morning? Or would Heikki think that wasn’t cool? She decided to call Anni. It was only half past eight, she might still be at home. Pia let the phone ring for a long time, in case Anni was far away from the hall, in the depths of that large apartment. But there was no answer.
Pia put her feet into the fur-lined boots her father gave her last Christmas and added a long scarf with multi-coloured stripes. She’d be warm enough. After one final look in the hall mirror, Pia ran down the stairs and into the snowy street outside.
* * *
Heikki was waiting for her at the top of the stairs leading to the entrance of the Lyceum. He stood with his feet apart, his hands in the pockets of his short jacket. He wasn’t wearing a hat either, and Pia was glad she’d left hers at home. She knew her mother would complain about it later.
‘Alright, hon?’ Heikki said, and took Pia’s hand.
‘Yeah, cool,’ she said, feeling breathless at the touch of his warm, strong fingers. They walked hand in hand through the front door, past the smaller kids, who looked at them in awe, then past the lockers, where Pia saw Sasha taking off her ankle-length Puffa coat. Sasha turned and immediately saw their hands. Pia flicked her hair back and tilted her head towards Heikki’s shoulder. As they walked towards the staircase, Pia turned back and scanned the entrance, but there was no sign of Anni. Heikki gave her a light kiss on her mouth as they parted at the top of the stairs.
When the Swedish teacher, a slight woman with wispy blonde hair done up in a complicated hair-do, took the register and called out Anni’s name, Pia looked at the empty desk next to her.
For the rest of the day, Pia didn’t share any lessons with Anni or Heikki. Her lunchtime was taken up by a gruelling session on the mats, for which she felt totally useless. All through the session she kept wondering how she was going to be able to do well at the tournament. Miss Joutila made her do the whole competition routine twice, so by the time she’d got to the canteen, Heikki was leaving and just waved to her. Pia cursed Wednesdays. Before, they’d meant a lovely long afternoon, with two free periods at the end of the day, when she and Anni would go either into the Rixi Bar or to her flat for the afternoon. Now she tried to concoct a reason for staying at school for another two hours, by which time Heikki’s maths class would be over. She needed to talk to him properly. But he’d know she’d been waiting at school, all that time for him. And going to the Rixi Bar on her own was out of the question too.
Why was Anni not at school? Why were the Admiral and the other man so interested in Anni and her parents? Pia shook her head. She mustn’t let her overactive imagination get the better of her. Whatever was going on with Anni’s father and the Admiral, surely it had nothing to do with Anni. She was probably down with flu and would eventually come back to school. The preliminary exams were in three months’ time in May.
‘In the two years of the sixth form, there simply isn’t enough time to go through the curriculum, so it is very important not to miss any lessons at all.’
Pia frowned as she remembered the Old Crow’s regular lecture on the looming baccalaureate exams. Surely Anni’s parents wanted her to do well. Even though Anni was so much brighter than anyone in the class, the Old Crow had warned her, ‘Only hard work pays off in the end!’ That had been one of the few times the Old Crow had come even close to telling Anni off. Not like Pia, who had to suffer the Old Crow’s lectures and death beams every day. And she had so much to tell Anni! What would she say when she heard she and Heikki were now officially going out. Not to mention how publicly Heikki held her hand at school. How at the smoking place he’d put his arm around Pia, right under Sasha’s nose. Pia needed to talk to Anni now.
* * *
Tehtaankatu was quiet in the early afternoon. The Embassy was lit up as usual, but there was no one about. Pia leant against the front door of Anni’s block, and was surprised when it gave way. Someone must have left it ajar. As Pia walked into the hallway, she heard the lock click as the heavy door shut behind her. Everything in the hallway looked normal. The spiral staircase, with its windows overlooking the inner courtyard, made the dark space seem lighter even in the afternoon. Pia felt foolish. What if there was a simple, rational explanation to Anni’s absence from school. Anni probably just had a bit of a cold and now Pia was skulking around asking after her. As if she couldn’t do without her friend. But Pia felt sure things were not right. Why would a real British colonel say Anni was in danger if that was not the case? Pia pressed the bell to Anni’s flat. She moved away from the door to avoid being seen through the spy-hole, and leant against the wall. She listened. There seemed to be no noise or movement inside the flat. Stepping in front of the heavy-looking door, she tried the bell again. This time the door opened immediately. A man in a black coat with thick blond hair and piercing blue eyes opened the door. Mr Kovtun! Pia wanted to flee, but her feet seemed glued to the spot.
‘Ah, Pia,’ he said in his foreign accent, and grabbed her.
‘No!’ Pia shrieked.
The heavy door closed behind her and the man took her past the hall with its gilded mirror and table with the telephone into the kitchen at the far end, where light was filtering through the windows, revealing specs of dust in the air.
The Russian turned to face Pia, grabbed her hands and tied them together while Pia tried to kick out. The man only smiled at her and tutted, ‘A wildcat? Powerful legs, eh, like a good little gymnast!’ The man was very strong.
He placed a black tape over her mouth and led Pia into a small back room, which Pia knew had once been a servant’s bedroom. There was just a single bed in the corner, covered with a lace bedspread.
Heavy curtains at the small window made it hard for Pia to see the hunched-up figures sitting on the floor. When her eyes adjusted she saw Anni. The man pushed her down next to her friend in the corner.
‘You promise, hush, yes?’ Kovtun put one gloved finger over his lips and nodded to Pia. Her heart was beating so hard she was shaking. She wanted to nod, but no movement came.
‘Please, Pia, you must promise,’ Anni whispered, touching Pia’s arm. Pia hadn’t noticed Anni’s arms were free. She looked at the man and nodded.
The ripping of the tape hurt, but Pia suppressed the scream. The man stood before them and now Pia could see that the other figure sitting on the floor, next to Anni, with his back to the wall, was her father. Kovtun stood in front of them, staring at Pia, with his arms folded. Just inside his coat, a shiny object was tucked into his pants. It was a gun! Pia felt sick. She swallowed hard and fought the nausea. ‘You sit and wait,’ he said. ‘Quiet and good girls and boys, yes?’
With that, he disappeared into the kitchen. Pia heard a cabinet being opened and a glass being filled with something. Then there were voices and the sound of clinking glasses.
Suddenly Pia’s father started shuffling towards her. He crawled past Anni and came to kneel in front of Pia.
‘Pia, you must not say anything. It is very important.’
Pia was staring at the diplomat. His arms were tied behind his back and she saw that he had dry blood at the corner of his mouth. Seeing Pia’s look, he wiped his mouth against the shoulder of his jacket and carried on, ‘You shouldn’t be here. This is a mistake. We’ll get help soon, so just be brave and say nothing at all.’