by Helena Halme
Now Kaisa’s biggest decision was what to wear to meet Peter off the train. He liked Kaisa in a skirt, so she considered wearing a new Liberty one she’d bought in London after the interview at Sonia magazine. She’d had a couple of hours to kill, and had suddenly found herself at the store on Regent Street. They had the most fantastic stuff there, and Kaisa found the self-assemble skirts in different Liberty prints in the haberdashery department. With her new sewing machine, she thought, it would be no job at all to sew the skirt together – just a few minutes’ work. It had taken her a long time to choose the right fabric, but finally she’d decided on a dark-blue paisley pattern, because it reminded Kaisa of a dress worn by her first teacher in Tampere. Now she decided to match it up with a long navy-blue jumper bought from Allders with her first salary from IDS, a tan belt and her blue court shoes. Kaisa looked at her watch; she had just time to run into Knight and Lee on Palmerston Road to get a pair of stockings. Peter so liked her in French knickers and suspenders. A few weeks ago, after she’d come back from Liverpool, Kaisa had bought a matching bra, suspender belt and knickers set in Marks & Spencer, since when the new satin underwear had been sitting in her drawer untouched. She had very nearly worn it on her trips up to London, but it felt wrong somehow. As if she’d expected someone (Duncan!) to see her in her underwear. Kaisa hoped the lingerie would help her tell Peter about the new job in London.
When Kaisa saw Peter get off the train, wearing his smart cords and Navy mac, her heart nearly stopped. He kissed Kaisa long and hard. ‘Let’s get a cab home. I need to have you now.’
His voice was so hoarse and sexy that Kaisa nearly fainted. In the back seat of the grubby taxi, with the driver sending backward glances at them, Kaisa told Peter how much she’d missed him. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other and when Peter realised what she was wearing, he kept stroking the top of Kaisa’s stockings through the thin fabric, or sneaking his hand inside her skirt. Kaisa was so happy.
After they’d been to bed he told Kaisa about his next job. The appointer had written to say that he was to serve in HMS Restless, the Polaris submarine, for a minimum of two years. ‘I will join the port crew on 19th of September.’ He sounded very proud. ‘We’ll have the house in Scotland, and I’ll be home for long periods of time,’ Peter said and kissed the top of Kaisa’s head. How was she going to tell him about the London job?
To buy time, Kaisa said, ‘You hungry?’
‘I’m starving,’ Peter said and jumped out of bed.
Kaisa got up too, and together they put out bread, cheese and a ham salad Kaisa had bought from Waitrose before walking to the station.
While they were sitting across from each other at the small table, Kaisa told him about the job offer in London. She blurted it out quickly, as if to minimise the effect.
‘The interview went really well, Rose wants me to start as soon as possible after I’ve taken a typing test. I’m a bit worried about that.’
Peter was quiet and wasn’t looking at Kaisa.
She stretched her arms across the table to take his hands into hers. ‘It’s such a huge opportunity for me. Just imagine it – a fashion magazine in London!’
‘And Duncan organised all this for you?’ Peter said and pulled his hands away from hers. He got up to get a glass of water.
‘It’s fine, he’s just helping me out.’
‘I bet,’ Peter said.
‘But the job, what do you think about the job?’ Kaisa held her breath while she waited for Peter’s reply.
‘So what are you going to be then? A secretary?’ Peter turned around and leaned against the sink, drinking the glass of water. His voice was dry and he had a non-committal, almost cold expression on his face. He was avoiding her eyes. Nothing like the man she’d made love to earlier, Kaisa thought.
‘No,’ Kaisa said and hesitated. She thought back to the interview with Rose. She’d used the word assistant; surely, that wasn’t the same as secretary? ‘Rose wants me to be her assistant,’ she said.
He turned away from Kaisa again and put the kettle on, ‘Same thing, I think you’ll find.’
Kaisa suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. She looked at the half-eaten sandwich she’d prepared from the thickly sliced brown bread Peter had cut for them.
He liked his bread that way rather than ready sliced. The ham sticking out of the side looked ugly to Kaisa now – why hadn’t she taken away the disgusting rind of fat from the piece?
Peter turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. Looking at Kaisa with cold eyes, he said, ‘But if you’d rather work as a secretary in town for Duncan’s cousin than be with me in Faslane, I’m not going to stop you.’
‘But Mercier, the Captain’s wife, works as an air hostess, and they live in London. She never lives where her husband is based; she stays put and they seem to be very happy.’
Peter sat down opposite Kaisa and took her hands in his, ‘But darling, they are rich. They inherited money from a relative and I think that’s how they can afford to live in London and fly out to meet each other wherever they are based. I wouldn’t be able to do that.’
Suddenly the noise of the kettle boiling filled the small kitchen.
* * *
Later that same night, when Peter was fast asleep, Kaisa got up quietly. Downstairs in the kitchen she saw it was 1am. She couldn’t sleep, and rather than toss and turn in bed she decided she’d go and make a cup of hot water and lemon. Now she was sitting at the kitchen table, unable to get up even to put the kettle on. The city around her was quiet; there wasn’t even the noise of the seagulls or the horns of ships navigating through the mist to disturb her thoughts.
After their late lunch, Peter and Kaisa had gone for walk along the seafront and then popped into Jeff’s parents’ pub. Jeff was away but his sister Maggie was working behind the bar, as were Jeff’s father and mother. They greeted Peter and Kaisa warmly and Peter told everyone about his new appointment. Apparently, it was very much a promotion (as Mary had told her) and he would get more money. Kaisa looked at Peter as he stood there talking to Jeff’s parents about the sub he was about to leave, HMS Tempest, about the refit and the testing they’d done. He was holding Kaisa’s hand but she felt more distant from him than she’d felt in all the years since they first met in Helsinki. Why hadn’t Peter told Kaisa any of these details before, when they’d sat at the kitchen table not talking or eating? Or later, when they’d walked along the Southsea seafront, looking at the sun glimmering on the sea. He should have at least told her about the money. And the promotion. Didn’t he think she would have understood?
In the pub, Kaisa tried to smile, and only jokingly said, ‘He never told me about the better pay,’ to which Jeff’s dad nudged Peter and said, winking, ‘Keep it that way, son, her indoors doesn’t need to know everything!’ He was stroking his grey beard, and Kaisa felt tiny next to Jeff’s father’s large shape. His beard seemed to have got greyer and his eyebrows bushier since she last saw him.
Peter just laughed and squeezed Kaisa’s waist and kissed her lightly on her lips. ‘She’s alright,’ he said.
‘You think that now,’ Jeff’s dad said, and puffed on his pipe.
They made love again when they got back home. Afterwards, Kaisa lay awake while Peter fell asleep immediately, his warm body enfolding her into his. For a while, she didn’t know how long, Kaisa closed her eyes and listened to his steady breathing. When he turned away from her, she tried to sleep, but gave up and slid out of bed and tiptoed into the kitchen.
Now, sitting in the dark, her mind was perfectly clear. With Peter’s raise, her small salary from Sonia would pale into insignificance. If she didn’t move up to Scotland, Peter would have to live in the Wardroom, which was another expense they could do without. With the travel costs, and the expense of lunch and other things in London, she would not be able to cover the extra charge of the Wardroom with her salary. Besides, Peter had said he’d rather come home to Kaisa in the evenings.
‘I
wouldn’t be able to fly down to Pompey more than a couple of times a year, so we would really see very little of each other.’ Peter said later on in the pub. They’d finally been able to speak a few words alone, settled in the corner, their usual seat in the pub. He’d added, ‘But of course it’s your decision.’
Kaisa had wondered how it was possible that he could do this. He knew how much a career meant to her. But Kaisa hadn’t said anything, not wishing to spoil Peter’s first day at home. When he’d noticed that she was quiet, Peter had held onto Kaisa’s hand and looked into her eyes. He said he had no choice, and that the new job was a really good one, ‘A huge step up in my career.’ The appointer had been very complimentary about his time in HMS Tempest.
Kaisa didn’t understand why Peter hadn’t told her what a huge change the move up to Scotland was. He must have known for weeks now what his future for the next few years (‘minimum of two years’) would be. Why didn’t he mention it in his latest letter, or in Liverpool? Kaisa rushed to the drawer where she kept Peter’s letters and noticed the last one was dated about a week ago. She hadn’t told him about the London job either, but that was because of Duncan. Duncan! Was this all to do with Duncan after all? No it couldn’t be, Peter just wasn’t jealous like that.
But really, Duncan didn’t matter; he wasn’t the problem here. The problem was that Kaisa needed to decide whether to go after a job in London or move to Scotland. She might have more luck with jobs in Scotland – who knew? Perhaps she could look into working in Edinburgh. And how could she be sure that the job Rose had offered her wasn’t just making coffee and typing letters? Why else would she have asked her to do a typing test? Perhaps Peter was right. She was too highly qualified for the job on the magazine. Although he hadn’t said it outright, Kaisa was sure that’s what he meant.
Fourteen
Kaisa took an early train up to London, leaving Peter asleep in their bed. For once, Peter had wanted to lie in rather than get up at the crack of dawn. Strangely, it had been Peter who convinced her to keep the appointment with Rose and the magazine. The train journey back and forth was an extra cost they could do without, so Kaisa was pleased that Peter approved of her making the trip. London was sunny and warm and, now that Kaisa knew exactly how to get to the Sonia offices in Soho, she was 20 minutes early. The girl at reception (whose name she’d forgotten) smiled at her as if she was already a member of staff, and showed her up to a room with several large daisywheel typewriters arranged on small tables. There was a large clock on the wall opposite, and a desk below it. The room looked like a small classroom. From the open windows to the left, Kaisa could hear traffic noises and shouts from deliverymen and sandwich boys. A moment after she’d sat down, and the girl from reception had disappeared, a woman she didn’t recognise from her previous visit came in and introduced herself as Mrs Rodgers.
‘I’m going to give you a sheet of written text and I’d like you to type it up, just as it is, with paragraphs and spaces where they are on the original. I will tell you when to start and when to stop.’
Kaisa was quite nervous, but not as much as she had thought she would be. Partly, she guessed, because she’d decided not to take the job. If she failed the test, it didn’t really matter. As it was, she managed to type most of the text on the page before Mrs Rodgers told her to stop, making only minor mistakes, which she was able to correct with the daisy wheel correction tape. Kaisa breathed a sigh of relief and thought how lucky she was that she’d been used to this new kind of typewriter at Hanken. Plus, having to use her grandmother’s old typewriter, without any correction facility, to write her theses meant that she was used to typing accurately.
‘Miss Cummings would like to see you before you go,’ Mrs Rodgers said. She led Kaisa once more through the busy office, where the people she’d met before nodded or said hello. Mrs Rodgers asked Kaisa to wait on a chair outside the office, while she went in. She had with her the typed sheet of paper that Kaisa had completed earlier and Kaisa felt her palms dampen as she thought about her test result. Would it be enough to get the job? She tried not to think about Peter and Scotland, because now she was here, she wanted to come back and work. She had the impression of everyone talking at the same time, some into telephones resting between their shoulder and ear while they typed fast, others standing around in groups discussing an idea or article. The office seemed even busier than before, but once Kaisa was shown into Rose’s office, all the hustle and bustle of the outer office faded away.
‘So, it seems your typing skills are even better than Jannica’s!’ Rose said and smiled. She’d waited for Mrs Rodgers to depart and close the door behind her, and for Kaisa to sit down on the chair opposite her. Unlike all the people who worked for her, Rose seemed to be calmness itself. ‘Are you looking forward to working with us?’ Rose asked and smiled broadly at Kaisa. She was wearing a bright red-and-blue checked jumper and a matching pair of bright blue harem pants, cinched at her narrow waist with a black belt.
Kaisa had been incredibly relieved and pleased to hear that the test had gone well, but now she shifted her eyes down to her hands. She was suddenly aware that she’d have to let Rose down. Of course there was no possibility of her taking this job! What an earth had she been imagining?
Rose had seen her face, ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
Afterwards, when Kaisa thought about that day in Rose’s office, she felt ashamed at how childishly she’d behaved. But she’d been so confused, not knowing what she should do, and Rose had been so kind. But to burst into tears in front of that powerful magazine editor! Rose had brought her tissues and after she’d calmed down a little, Kaisa told her about Scotland, Peter’s promotion, the better pay, and how if she did take the job, she and Peter would be worse off, not better off, financially. On top of that she wouldn’t be able to see her husband more than a couple of times per year.
‘I see,’ Rose said. She was now perching on the edge of her desk, ‘I was afraid something like this would happen.’ Rose thought for a moment. She reached out to her desk and took out a card. ‘Here’s my business card. Take it and if you ever come back to England again, give me a call.’ Rose showed Kaisa out of the office and, as if in a daze, Kaisa walked past the busy desks, down the stairs, past the girl at reception and out onto the street. It was barely twelve o’clock, and she’d only been inside the office of Sonia magazine for less than two hours, but it felt as if a lifetime had passed. It was her career and her life that she’d given up in that office, Kaisa thought. With tears of anger and frustration running down her cheeks, she made her way through the busy streets of Soho into the Underground station at Leicester Square. If she hurried, she could catch a train before 1pm, and be back in Pompey with Peter by early afternoon.
But already on the train back to Pompey, as the dirty-looking rows of houses were replaced by golden fields, she was looking forward to being in Peter’s arms, and put the job at Sonia magazine out of her mind. She’d come to England to be with her Englishman, and if that meant living in Scotland, so be it. Besides, she had a week in Finland with her mother and sister to look forward to.
* * *
Helsinki was colder than Southsea, but it was sunny and Kaisa enjoyed eating all the pickled herring and new potatoes her mother cooked for them, and the cinnamon buns she’d baked just for her. On the second night they were in Finland, Sirkka took Peter and Kaisa out on the town, but they were shocked by how expensive it was, especially alcohol, and didn’t really enjoy themselves, knowing how much they were spending. Kaisa kept thinking about Scotland, and how she’d manage there when Peter was away. They’d discussed the future only once more, on the afternoon Kaisa came back from London. When she told him she’d turned down the job and that Rose had been very nice about it, Peter took her into his arms and said, ‘You’re a star, she could see that. I’m sure you’ll find something up in Scotland.’
Her mother and Sirkka were delighted to see the two of them so happy, and even though Kaisa told them about the
move up to Scotland, and how she’d had to turn down a job on a fashion magazine in London, the women just nodded noncommittally. They didn’t seem to understand the significance of this, or else were preoccupied by their own problems. Kaisa told Sirkka in more detail about the dilemma she had faced, but her sister, too, just shrugged her shoulders. Sirkka seemed distant, and Kaisa never really got to talk to her properly, or alone, during the week they stayed in her flat. Sirkka was again working in a hotel on Mannerheim Street, and she was off for only two days – besides, she was yearning to go back to Lapland where her boyfriend was. ‘If they offer me a job up there for the skiing season, I think I’ll take it,’ she said to Kaisa. Kaisa thought her sister looked happy for once and didn’t want to disturb her with her own troubles.
* * *
Back in Southsea, Kaisa wished she’d been more patient with her mother and Sirkka. There had been no rows, but Kaisa had been short with both of them more than once. And she’d not really talked to them about her worries – or listened to theirs. It was more difficult when Peter was there with her; they had to speak English, and there was no time for long chats over coffee and cinnamon buns. The Finnish word for mother, äiti, brought tears to her eyes when she wrote it on a ‘thank you’ letter a few days after they’d got back to the flat in King’s Terrace. Why was Kaisa’s life always so complicated? Why couldn’t she have stayed in Finland, perhaps married a Finnish man (not Matti, though!), who would have been used to women having careers of their own. In Finland, she could have got a good job eventually (she had to admit it to herself, it wasn’t easy there either, but at least her degree would be recognised). Or she could have moved to Stockholm. Hanken was very well thought of in Sweden, as were Finns, these days recognised for their hard-working characteristics rather than the heavy drinking they’d been known for when she was a child. Her mother had hinted at how well she’d be regarded in Sweden, but had stopped talking about it when she’d seen Kaisa’s face.