Cold Courage

by Pekka Hiltunen

  The weight had not disappeared. Now it was around her, pressing in on her from every side.

  She felt faint. Her legs buckled. She found herself falling.

  Lia collapsed to her knees. Her reactions were still functioning well enough that she managed to get her hands out in front of her as the ground rushed up.

  She had fallen into darkness. Her head pounded, and the only thing she was able to think about were bloodstains.

  Bloodstains on the concrete pit surrounding her. The remains of another human being.

  The scream came from deep within her. Lia did not know she was screaming, but then next to her a bright light flashed and someone came running and grabbed her.

  This only made Lia scream more. Her agony was naked and intense.

  Paddy ran to Lia with a torch in his hand. When her scream turned to a howl of terror at his touch, he released his grip.

  Lights went on in both camper vans, casting cones of light onto the black ground. Lia was on her knees, leaning on her hands, as if someone had struck her down. Paddy knew what had happened.

  The trauma from two days before had broken through.

  Elza and Berg came out but stopped when they saw Lia. Ausma hid behind Elza, staring on in terror behind.

  They heard Lia gasping for breath. Suddenly she stopped screaming. She stayed on all fours on the ground, her body shaking, coughing and trying to get oxygen.

  Cautiously Elza approached Lia and lowered herself to the ground in front of her.

  Paddy illuminated Elza with his torch, so Lia could see who she was. Lia stared without recognition, but gradually her expression changed. In a torrent of tears, the fear began to escape from her.

  Elza touched her carefully with her hand, and Lia moved towards her, looking for refuge.

  Mari answered the phone immediately, as though she had already been awake.

  Paddy briefly explained the situation. They had managed to get Lia laid down, with blankets under her on the ground, and her breathing had stabilised.

  Elza was sitting next to her, holding her hand.

  ‘I was afraid of this,’ Mari said.

  Frightening experiences had to come out, but Mari had hoped they would discharge more peacefully, over time.

  ‘I’ll call a psychiatrist. I know one who specialises in victims of violence.’

  ‘How can you get a psychiatric specialist on the phone in the middle of the night?’

  Mari said she had already called her twice about Lia and Henriete. The psychiatrist had encouraged her to wait, because people reacted to catastrophes and threats in such different ways. Sometimes thrashing them out with other people just made the problems worse. But the danger of a strong reaction had always been there, so Mari had arranged for her to be able to ring her acquaintance for aid at any time.

  Mari rang Paddy back a few minutes later.

  ‘Take her to hospital.’

  The psychiatrist had decided that due to her respiratory distress, Lia had to be taken to hospital, but not by ambulance, which might intensify her fear. And not in Paddy’s car, because that was the one they were using when it all happened.

  ‘Take one of the camper vans to Princess Royal Hospital Haywards Heath. It’s closest. I’ll call them right now. We have to get Lia breathing properly first. Then we can think about other things.’

  Paddy carried Lia to a bed in the smaller camper van. Lia did not react to Paddy’s touch.

  ‘Breathe,’ Paddy said to her. ‘Concentrate on breathing. We’ll get you help soon.’

  Elza also went. Berg stayed with the women in the other vehicle. No one could sleep after being awakened so upsettingly, so Berg began making tea.

  The A&E department at Princess Royal Hospital was expecting them. They also knew they were accepting a traumatic shock victim – Mari had arranged everything over the phone.

  The orderlies retrieved Lia from the camper van, and within a matter of seconds had her inside. They connected machines to monitor her vital signs, and the nurses also began checking her pulse, temperature and pupillary response.

  Paddy hesitated to give the hospital Lia’s real name and personal information, but secrecy would have been pointless.

  The doctor made significant progress in only a few minutes. He seemed like a competent professional. Joe Alderite had clearly been working in A&E for a long time and was used to extraordinary situations.

  ‘What sort of mental trauma?’ Alderite asked.

  ‘Kidnapping. She was in mortal danger for several hours. But she doesn’t want to involve the police.’

  Alderite’s eyebrows went up and he wrote some notes.

  ‘And who are you?’

  ‘A colleague from work. One of the people who helped her out of the situation.’

  Alderite moved into the examination room where Lia lay. Paddy left out that Lia had also recently been in close proximity when two people were shot to death.

  A bad case of shock, Alderite announced when he returned. Lia’s breathing was stable, but her EEG and pulse showed that all was not well by any stretch. She was in an overstimulated state that was too much for her body. She was unresponsive when spoken to. Alderite guessed that responding to speech was too great an effort for Lia right now.

  Because Lia had no known illnesses and her general state of health was excellent, Dr Alderite believed that slow, carefully monitored care would be best for now. Lia had been put on an intravenous drip, but she was only being given mild sedatives. They wanted to leave room for more medication should the situation change.

  Paddy and Elza stayed at hospital to wait, and half an hour later Mari arrived as well. After a short conference, they decided that Mari would stay on watch at the hospital while the others returned to the campsite.

  When Mari announced at the hospital reception that she was Lia’s next of kin and wanted to monitor her recovery, they asked for her personal data as well.

  ‘What relation are you to the patient?’

  ‘Her sister.’

  42

  Mari sits in a room at Princess Royal Hospital and looks at Lia lying on the bed.

  Lia is sleeping, or resting in a state reminiscent of sleep. She does not seem to be aware of where she is or that Mari is by her side.

  Lia’s breathing is deep and unbroken. Mari watches her unceasingly.

  Mari has seen traumatised people. Lia’s condition isn’t the worst, but it is serious.

  The question Mari must resolve immediately in order to move forward is whether Lia is here because of her.

  No. She is not.

  Lia is lying in a bed in hospital, with a liquid solution of sedatives slowly dripping into her veins because in April in the City of London on her way to work she saw a white Volvo and was incapable of passing by that car and its monstrous contents without something changing within her.

  Mari is partially to blame. She participated in making this possible. Lia met death, first last April at a distance and now face to face, and it was painful for her.

  Mari looks at Lia and evaluates the situation. She thinks that Lia will pull through.

  If the events of the previous days had happened to the Lia she was just a little while ago, she would surely be in a worse condition now. But Lia has changed, as she has seen herself. She is better prepared for bad things to happen now.

  People handle problems according to the scale they are accustomed to.

  For many people, seeing a murder or having someone point a weapon at them would be completely incomprehensible. And so it should be. But for Lia, overcoming that sort of fear is already within reach.

  Mari’s own scale for processing shock and fear is wide, exceptionally large. It grew in situations that caused her an almost paralysing amount of pain and anguish, but she passed through them.

  The night slowly marches on. Mari sits next to Lia and watches her.

  Early in the morning before dawn she leaves the room for a moment to visit the toilet and to ask the nurse whether
she can use her mobile phone in the room. After receiving permission, she returns to the room. She sits down and takes Lia by the hand, the one without the IV tube. Lia does not wake up.

  Mari begins scanning the news online with her phone.

  Lia is next to her and Arthur Fried is out there somewhere far away – but Mari has a hold on him as well.

  43

  Lia awoke to a clinking sound. She opened her eyes ever so slightly and tried to focus her gaze.

  A hospital room.

  She realised she was drugged and lying in a hospital bed. Next to her sat Mari eating breakfast from an ugly yellow tray. Mari noticed her move.

  ‘Sorry. They don’t have plastic mugs. Just these porcelain cups that clatter,’ Mari said.

  Lia smiled, trying to get herself back up to speed. Then she remembered.

  The bald man. The car boot. The gunshots. The bloodstains. The camper vans. The family of Latvian women. The lawyer, Fiona Gould. The feeling of safety. That feeling disappearing.

  A quiver ran across her face.

  ‘Everything is fine,’ Mari said quickly. ‘There’s no problem. The doctor who examined you said that he wishes he were in as good a shape as you.’

  Lia stared at her, and as she slowly gained control of her thoughts once again, she smiled.

  ‘You should take care of your health,’ she said. ‘All that time indoors at the Studio. Not good.’

  Lia was not hungry, but Mari helped her drink some juice.

  Lia asked about the situation at the caravan site. Mari quickly gave her the bare facts so Lia would not fret too much: Paddy and Berg were still there. Most of the women would leave that day. Their passports were almost ready, and Maggie would arrange their travel.

  Elza and Ausma would likely remain at the campsite for a few more days, and Lia could see them soon if she wanted and if she had the strength.

  ‘Everything is fine. And you don’t have to do anything.’

  At the door a nurse appeared, saying that the doctor would be coming in five minutes to check Lia’s status before he ended his shift. The nurse was happy to see Lia sitting up in bed and talking.

  Mari said that she was leaving.

  ‘Rico or someone else will come by. You won’t have to be alone for long.’

  ‘I don’t want to stay here.’

  ‘I imagine they intend to keep you for observation for a little while. If they try to move you to a room with other people, tell them you need your own room and that I’ll foot the bill.’

  Lia laughed.

  ‘Maybe I want to stay after all.’

  Mari said she would arrange a meeting for her with a crisis therapist.

  ‘You’re quite enough,’ Lia said. ‘You and your mentalist tricks.’

  Mari was unwilling to make light of the situation.

  ‘I’m a psychologist, not a psychiatrist. And besides, I’m part of the problem. I feel responsible for this, at least in a small way. Not completely, because you wanted to investigate Daiga Vītola’s death yourself. But I had my part in it. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that you’re here in hospital.’

  Lia waved her hand.

  ‘I’m fine. I’ve got this far by myself. Get out of here.’

  The doctor was prepared to release Lia from hospital almost immediately. Her vital signs had been stable all night, and she answered all of his questions with clarity and good humour, reflecting a return of mental equilibrium.

  Lia pronounced the doctor’s name from his badge and asked him where he was from.

  Alderite said he came from the Philippines.

  ‘How much do you know about it?’ he asked.

  Imelda Marcos’ shoes, Lia said. The Philippines had had female presidents, like Tarja Halonen in Finland. And karaoke.

  ‘You all love karaoke, like most Finns, unfortunately.’

  ‘Don’t you like music?’ Alderite asked in amusement.

  ‘Yes. But karaoke isn’t music; it’s just the noisy side of drunkenness.’

  The doctor laughed.

  ‘You’re ready to leave.’

  However, he would not let her go without a clear plan for ongoing treatment.

  ‘You absolutely must talk to a therapist and probably keep going for a good while. The intensity of your stress reaction tells me that the situation you experienced was really bad. You don’t just get over things like that. Your sister said that she already has a crisis therapist lined up.’

  My sister?

  Lia took a deep breath while she formulated her answer.

  ‘Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be sure to take your advice. My sister is actually one of those people I’ll probably need a therapist to survive.’

  ‘She seems like a very capable woman,’ Alderite observed. In addition to her own contact information, Mari had left at reception the number of her solicitor, whom the hospital staff could contact if necessary. Mari had even given them the name of the taxi service they should use if Lia was discharged.

  ‘Apparently she’s already paid the fare,’ Alderite said.

  ‘Of course. That’s the kind of sister she is.’

  After Lia had had a chance to shower and eat, Rico appeared.

  He was glad to see Lia on her feet. What did not delight him was that Lia wanted them to go to the Twineham Green Caravan Site.

  ‘Mari told me to take you to see the therapist.’

  ‘Mari probably has it all set up,’ Lia said. ‘But first we’re going to the campsite.’

  One of Rico’s good qualities was the ability to play things by ear, so they set out for Twineham Green in the taxi Mari had booked.

  The two camper vans at the campsite were in upheaval. Bags were being packed, contact information was being exchanged and goodbyes were being said. When Lia and Rico arrived, all of the women wanted to hug Lia and hear how she was.

  Lia hugged everyone and said her goodbyes to the ones who were on their way home. Seeing this recently fledged family before they began scattering to the wind was important for her.

  All six Latvian women cried, even Elza and Ausma who were staying in London.

  The hardest thing for Lia was saying goodbye to Henriete, Daiga Vītola’s mother. Her eyes were hard, and Lia knew the source of that hardness was her grief.

  She’s lost her daughter and been imprisoned with her granddaughter. And she’s killed two men.

  I’m having attacks that make it impossible to breathe. She isn’t.

  I’ll probably recover from this. She won’t.

  They did not talk much. Henriete mostly just repeated one thing: thank you. Lia had no way to reply to that other than by embracing her long and hard.

  Paddy offered the ones who were leaving a lift in his car, whose windscreen he had had repaired. He would take them to London, where they would begin their long three-day journey by bus. Flying would have been faster, but passport control was stricter at airports.

  Elza and Ausma would stay at the caravan site alone in the meantime, since Berg wanted to go home for a bit.

  Lia and Rico took the taxi to the address Mari had given them. Rico accompanied Lia to the waiting room and said he would wait until the session was over. Lia did not resist.

  The psychiatrist, Elizabeth Brooke, had been expecting them, so Lia only had to wait fifteen minutes to get in.

  Brooke was a small, slender woman, who looked at Lia kindly through large glasses.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Lia said. ‘I’m sure I’ll need help, but I think I could start off more slowly.’

  ‘I heard a little from your friend about how dangerous the situation was you were in. Can you tell me more?’ Brooke asked.

  She reminded Lia that she was bound by doctor–patient confidentiality regarding everything Lia might tell her unless an extremely serious crime was involved.

  How do you define extremely serious crime? Lia thought.

  She said that her life had been in danger and that she had seen other people die. She did not say how she had ende
d up in these situations or exactly what had happened.

  ‘You seem quite brave talking about such shocking things. You’re speaking quite calmly,’ Brooke said.

  Lia nodded.

  ‘I imagine that probably has something to do with feeling like… like I was doing something that was worth it. That it was worth what I went through.’

  ‘Why?’

  Lia thought of the four Latvian women who were on their way back to Riga, and of Elza and Ausma at the small campsite in Twineham Green contemplating their new life.

  ‘I can’t talk about it. But it was worth it.’

  They talked for an hour, and it was easier than Lia had expected. Brooke respected Lia’s decision to keep most of the details to herself.

  Mostly the psychiatrist asked about everything else in Lia’s life. At the end of the hour, Lia realised why.

  She’s figuring out what my life is like and giving it back to me. Sending me back to the safe version of myself.

  Talking to Brooke, Lia found that the great anxiety she had been carrying was gone. The previous night’s outburst had drained her dry. Now it felt so far away.

  They arranged to meet next one week later. As she was preparing to leave, one question remained in Lia’s mind.

  ‘Can what happened last night happen again? Do you think it will keep coming back?’

  ‘That’s impossible to say. People react to these situations in such different ways. Usually getting past them takes time. But I think you’re doing remarkably well given the circumstances.’

  Rico escorted Lia to the taxi and home to Kidderpore Avenue. Sensing that she did not want to be walked all the way to the door, Rico said goodbye and asked the cabbie to drive on.

  Lia walked into her basement flat. She was home. She showered again and changed her clothes.

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon.

  She called Level and said she was getting over her flu and was well enough to come to work the following day.