The Faithful Heart

by Helena Halme

  All that evening she waited for the phone to ring, and by ten o’clock she was feeling desperately confused and worried. How could Peter be so busy that he couldn’t find time to talk to her? Had something happened to him? Or didn’t he miss her at all? Kaisa’s heart ached at not being close to Peter – she couldn’t sleep at night for missing his shape next to her in their bed.

  Peter finally called at 11pm, when Kaisa was about to go upstairs to bed. Just hearing his voice made Kaisa feel wonderful again. She forgot all about her desperation when he told her the news: he’d be back at the weekend.

  ‘That’s why I didn’t call before,’ he said, ‘because I didn’t want to tell you before it was confirmed – we’ve all got leave because the sea trials went so well.’

  Kaisa hugged the telephone. At that moment she felt so happy she could hardly breathe. It was Friday night and Kaisa would see Peter the next day. She spent the next few hours tidying up the flat, late into the night, and in bed she dreamed about their first kiss.

  The next morning there was more news: a letter from the employment agency was waiting for Kaisa on the doormat when she got up. They had a job for her! Kaisa was so happy, she nearly phoned her mum, but decided against it. Telephone calls home were so expensive; besides, she needed to get herself and the flat ready for Peter.

  Four

  Peter looked weathered – all tanned and grinning widely – when Kaisa met him off the train at Southsea Harbour. It was early Saturday evening, and Kaisa had been awake since 9am because she had so much to organise. She wanted the maisonette to look as tidy and homely as she could make it. She’d even ironed one of the linen tablecloths from Finlayson, a wedding present from her grandmother, and spread it over the dining room table. The pattern of pink roses badly clashed with the sofa, but Kaisa decided not to care. She didn’t think Peter would notice. She laid the table for a dinner of steak and salad, which she’d half prepared. She’d put the steak in a red wine marinade – a Finnish recipe – ready to fry later. She wanted the stage set for the news she was going to deliver that evening. She dressed carefully, in a skirt and blouse, and wore her lacy French knickers and suspenders. Looking at herself in the mirror, before leaving for the station, she’d been pleased; the sun and sea in Southsea had bleached her hair and made it curlier than it was in Finland, a look that suited her. She’d put on some pink lip gloss and hurried out of the door.

  When Peter first stepped off the train he didn’t see her, but when she waved like a madwoman he waved back and walked briskly towards her. He scooped Kaisa up in his arms and kissed her for so long that she felt embarrassed. Peter kept grabbing her bottom, and kissing her fully on the lips as they walked towards the station exit. Other sailors, recognisable for their short, smart haircuts and the Pusser’s grips they, too, were carrying, grinned at them, but an elderly couple, descending from the first-class compartment on the same train, viewed Kaisa and Peter with disdain.

  ‘We’re married,’ Kaisa wanted to shout out to them, but instead she smiled in their direction. The man nodded, but the woman looked pointedly away. Peter and Kaisa giggled and ran out of the station.

  ‘Do you want to go to the pub?’ Kaisa asked once they were outside. It was Saturday, and they were passing Jeff’s parents’ pub. Peter kissed her again and whispered in her ear, ‘No, I want to go home and take you to bed.’

  It wasn’t until later that evening, after they’d finished their steak and salad, that Kaisa was able to tell Peter her news.

  ‘I’ve got a job!’

  ‘That’s great news!’ Peter gave Kaisa a peck on her cheek.

  Kaisa told him about how nice the woman at Bayleys had been, and how she’d been offered a temporary job at Information Data Services, or IDS as everyone called the large American company. Peter hugged her. ‘I said you’d get a job, didn’t I?’ Then he yawned. ‘God, I’m tired! We had a few beers last night, with an early start today and no sleep at all on that bloody train from Helensburgh to Glasgow. It was full of matelots, home for the weekend, and already plastered.’ He’d changed into his jeans and a blue T-shirt after they’d been to bed. Kaisa looked at his slim torso, and went over and put her hands around his neck.

  The next morning when Peter woke up early, Kaisa stayed in bed. She could hear him opening and slamming doors downstairs in the kitchen, and soon he was coming up again with a cup of black coffee for her. Kaisa sat up, yawned, and looked out of their bedroom window. Like the kitchen below, the bedroom overlooked the back of the houses opposite. There was also a nursery school with a playground, where Kaisa had seen mothers drop off their children. The sky was bright blue and the sun was shining into the bedroom.

  ‘It’s fantastic to be back home with you,’ Peter planted a kiss on her mouth. He slipped back in between the sheets and they made love again, more slowly this time. Afterwards, when they were lying in bed, with the covers off because the heat of the day had made the room stuffy and their exertions made them hot, Kaisa placed her head in the crook of Peter’s arm and said, ‘I’ve got a good feeling about this job.’ She told Peter that she was going to be working at the Purchase Ledger Department of the new IDS headquarters in Cosham. ‘I feel that I’m on my way to a proper career!’

  ‘That’s great, but right now, unless you want me to devour you again, I need some food!’ Peter stood up and pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt. He took the stairs down two, three at a time and while Kaisa was getting dressed shouted up to her, ‘I think we need to go shopping!’ Kaisa started hurrying. As she brushed her teeth, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was aglow; she was even happier than before, if that was possible: happy to be married, happy to be in Portsmouth, happy to be a Navy wife.

  That lunchtime they went out with Jeff and his new girlfriend, Catherine, who Peter said was a ‘bloody Welshie’.

  ‘I like her,’ Kaisa told him when they were walking home. Peter put his arm around Kaisa and said, ‘Well, I’m glad. Let’s just hope he sticks to this one. With his past record, I’m not sure he will.’

  When Peter left on the Sunday afternoon, Kaisa decided not to go and see him off at the station. Waving goodbye again would make her tearful, and she’d decided that this time she was going to act like a grown-up. She was a career woman now and career women didn’t shed tears over men!

  On the Monday morning Kaisa was due to attend the Cosham office at 10am. There she would meet her manager, who would allocate her a job. On Sunday evening, she went to bed early, and put the radio alarm clock on the highest possible setting, a whole two hours before she needed to leave the flat.

  The IDS building was a large modern complex with green hanging plants suspended from wide balconies. The bus Kaisa had been told to take was staff transport and everyone on board knew each other and chatted loudly. She was given the occasional glance, but there was one other girl who sat by herself, so Kaisa didn’t feel that much out of place. In the large reception area, with glass walls and long pine reception desks, she was greeted by a thin woman in a suit jacket, wearing a tight skirt and flat pointy shoes. She introduced herself as Kerry, Account Manager in the UK Purchase Ledger Department. They were joined by the other girl, called Susan, who’d sat on her own in the bus, and they all took a lift to the fourth floor and a vast room filled with desks and people either busy on the phones or shuffling papers.

  ‘Where are you from?’ Kerry asked Kaisa as she led the three of them past several desks towards an office separated from the large room by a glass partition.

  ‘Oh, me?’ Kaisa was taken by surprise, since during the ride in the lift Kerry had mostly ignored her, and instead chatted to Susan, who’d been recruited by the same agency as Kaisa. Susan had told Kerry she was from Yorkshire. She spoke loudly, but was very slight with pale skin and long, black hair swept off her face in a tight ponytail.

  Kerry stopped by the open door to the glass-framed office, where a man in shirtsleeves sat behind a large desk.

  ‘Richard, this is Susan an
d Kaisa. They’ve come to help us from Bayleys.’

  Richard’s handshake was firm, and while he held Kaisa’s hand his pale blue eyes ran briefly over her body, making Kaisa wish she’d worn her interview suit instead of the summery skirt she’d made while working at Stockmann’s in Helsinki. She’d fallen in love with the fabric, which had an Alpine landscape drawn across the hem, and had bought two metres to make a gathered skirt to wear in summer. Her top was home-made, too, a design she’d invented by simply sewing two squares together, leaving holes for arms and a larger boat neck for the head. That fabric, too, had been a favourite of hers when she worked at the haberdashery department in Stockmann’s. The only problem was that the opening at her neck was a bit larger than she’d intended and occasionally the top slid off to one side, revealing a bare shoulder. Kaisa knew it was a fashionable look, but suddenly, under the gaze of this important man at her new workplace, it didn’t seem appropriate wear at all.

  Richard asked Kaisa and Susan to take a seat and, while Kerry scurried out of the office, he perched on the front of his desk. The ankle of one of Richard’s legs, which he’d pulled up to the desk, was level with Kaisa’s eyes and she noticed there was a mass of dark hairs showing in between the hem of his trousers and a pair of bright red socks. Kaisa forced her eyes away and replied to the question that Kerry had asked, which her new boss was now repeating.

  ‘I’m from Finland.’

  ‘Ah, that’s interesting. I think we’ve had one girl from Finland here before. She was very good, efficient and a hard worker.’ Richard smiled briefly, letting his gaze linger on Kaisa. ‘And what brings you to England?’

  Kaisa told him about Peter, and about being married. ‘I don’t need a work permit,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. The agency sorts out that, thank goodness, so we don’t have to.’ Richard turned his face to Susan and then, with a serious face, spoke to Kaisa again. ‘I must stress that you do not work for IDS. You will be paid by the agency, and told how long you have to work with us, and so on. Of course, you will take your instructions on what to do from us, or Kerry in this case, but there is no contract between IDS and you. Is that understood?’

  Both Susan and Kaisa nodded and, as if by magic, as if she’d known when the conversation with Richard had come to a point that could be interrupted, Kerry appeared at the door and ushered the two of them out of the office.

  That same evening Kaisa phoned her mum and told her the good news about the job. She didn’t tell her it was temporary; she’d been so busy on her first day that she was hopeful they would keep her on longer than the four weeks that had been agreed. Although she was tired, Kaisa felt she’d got to grips with what Kerry wanted her to do right away. She was checking a list of figures on a printed report from the ledgers against statements that had been sent from the suppliers. Some of the sums didn’t match, and that’s when she needed to look at old records on microfilms. It was easy work, and really beneath her, but it was a start.

  That first weekend when she was alone again, Jeff and Catherine took Kaisa out shopping on Saturday. In the evening she went on a pub crawl with them, ending up in an ‘Officers only’ club called Pomme d’Or. Kaisa had heard Peter and Jeff talk about the place, but she’d never been inside. Whenever she’d suggested it, Peter had always said she wouldn’t like it there. Kaisa secretly thought that the reason he didn’t want to go was because there were girls there that he didn’t want Kaisa to meet. The door was painted black and Jeff had to show his Navy ID at the entrance. A set of stairs led to a dirty-looking cellar with red walls and carpet, and a bar at one end. There was a haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the air, and the music was so loud they had to shout to each other.

  ‘What do you want to drink?’ Jeff shouted in Catherine’s ear. She opted for half a pint of lager. Kaisa decided to have the same and when Jeff turned around to give the drink to her, she heard a voice close to her say, ‘Jeff, my man!’ As she turned around she saw a tallish man, with light blond hair and friendly eyes smiling at her.

  ‘Your taste in women has improved,’ he said to Jeff, still looking at Kaisa.

  Jeff coughed and, brushing his hair back from his eyes, said, ‘Kaisa, this is Duncan Lofthouse. This is Kaisa Williams, Peter’s new wife.’

  Duncan took Kaisa’s hand and kissed it, ‘Oh yes, the Scandinavian beauty Peter landed himself. But we have met, at Jackie’s party, up in town. Don’t you remember me, Keesi?’ Duncan continued to look deeply into Kaisa’s eyes, and, to say something, she leant over and spoke into his ear, ‘It’s K-a-i-s-a.’

  Duncan smiled and said into her ear, ‘Well, K-a-i-s-a, would you like to dance?’

  The four of them ended up spending the evening together and the next day they all met up for lunch at The Still and West in Old Portsmouth. The pub had a roof terrace that overlooked the Solent, and it was the place to be on a sunny summer’s day. They were sitting at a table with a weatherworn wooden bench against the wall, with two chairs opposite. Catherine and Jeff shared the bench, while Kaisa and Duncan settled themselves on the chairs. Kaisa pulled her chair slightly away from Duncan, to avoid the sun in her eyes, but also because she’d spent nearly all the previous evening dancing with him, and didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. During a slow piece, ‘Careless Whisper’, by George Michael, he’d pulled her a little too close, and Kaisa had had to push him away.

  ‘Look, Peter and I went to Dartmouth together, so you have nothing to worry about with me,’ Duncan had told her after the dance.

  When she’d woken up that morning, with a slight hangover, Kaisa had immediately regretted that she’d promised to meet the others for lunch. The night before it had seemed such a good idea. As many ideas were when you’ve drank too much! She’d wanted to celebrate her new job, or feel like a normal person going out with friends, even without Peter. They’d had such a laugh at the club, and when Duncan had hit on the idea of a pub lunch, and both Jeff and Catherine had insisted she should come along, Kaisa had relented. She also knew Peter would want her to enjoy herself.

  On the top of Still and West there was a light breeze from the sea. Kaisa began shivering as they waited for Jeff and Catherine, who were queuing up for their drinks and burgers.

  ‘Here, take my jumper,’ Duncan said and pulled off his light-yellow sweater, handing it to Kaisa. His polo shirt revealed muscular, strong arms. ‘That’s alright,’ said Kaisa, resisting looking at the veins in his arms as well as the chivalrous gesture. But Duncan wouldn’t accept her refusal, so she wrapped the jumper over her shoulders.

  ‘Go on, put it on,’ Duncan said.

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ Kaisa said but couldn’t stop herself shivering from the cold.

  ‘Well, in that case …’ Duncan pretended to get up and take hold of Kaisa, ‘Shall I?’

  ‘No, I’ll put it on.’ Kaisa giggled and pulled the soft cashmere sweater over her strappy top.

  When Kaisa got home from the pub – alone – she’d refused Duncan’s offer to walk her home – she wrote a letter to Peter. Before leaving, Peter had told Kaisa that she should write letters, but that the postal delivery was unreliable on the nuclear subs. ‘They bring the letters by a boat, which comes alongside, or sometimes by helicopter. But you know how much I love getting your letters, so you must keep writing, darling, even if you don’t hear back from me for a few days – or weeks. And don’t forget the perfume, or the ‘sports pages’. Kaisa had promised to sprinkle her perfume on the letter before she posted it, as she’d done since he asked her to do it when they were unmarried and living in separate countries. The ‘sports pages’ was harder for her. Peter had told her that all the wives and girlfriends wrote naughty bits in their letters, basically about sex, but Kaisa worried that their correspondence would go astray, and end up in the wrong hands. But she did write every day without fail, managing to end each letter with some saucy sentences.

  This time she first told him about her job, how she was checking a list of numbers
against another list, and although the work was tedious, she was enjoying being at work and feeling that she belonged. Her boss, Richard, seemed pleased with her work, and said she could take responsibility for a set of purchase ledger accounts soon. It felt a little like a promotion, and although Kaisa hadn’t quite got to know all the other people working in her department, she felt at home at IDS. She described the other girls in the office, including Susan, the other girl from the agency.

  When Kaisa had finished writing, she noticed the letter came to six sheets of paper. She’d included a naughty sentence at the end, but mentioned Duncan only fleetingly, deciding not to say how much she’d enjoyed his company.

  Five

  Peter had been away for just two weeks but Kaisa missed him terribly. It was so hard not to know where he was, or be able to talk to him. Peter had explained to Kaisa before he left that now he was on a nuclear powered submarine, he wouldn’t be able to get to a port as often as he had in the diesel boats, because the nuclear reactor onboard HMS Tempest meant they wouldn’t be allowed to dock just anywhere.

  ‘I don’t expect I’ll be able to call more than once or twice during the time we’re away,’ he’d said. ‘And you know the letters won’t be picked up as often as in diesel boats.’ Kaisa had nodded, she knew about the letters. She’d been horrified that Peter would be sleeping in a confined space with a reactor, but he’d assured her it was perfectly safe. He’d taken her into his arms and kissed her forehead, ‘You have nothing to worry about, my lovely. These boats are safer than the diesel ones by far. My old boat was like a tin can, compared to this one.’ So she’d tried not to worry and to prepare herself for the long period of no contact with Peter. She was delighted therefore when she got a surprise letter on Monday.