by Anna Blix
A whimsical idea crossed his mind. What if they were calling him? What if he went and found out what they wanted? Was he meant to go to England? Follow the paper trail, as they said in the movies. See where it took him. How about that?
Niklas chuckled quietly to himself, then he laughed out loud. The sound echoed into the dark. “Ho ho ho.” Well, he wasn’t going back to Helsinki. There would be no begging Pekka Aho for a job. So why not London? It could be interesting.
He climbed back up the slope. It was a steep incline, and he had to use his bare hands to hold on to the ice and steady himself. When he finally reached the top of the hill, he was blinded by a bright light.
The airstrip’s floodlights had been switched on, and the pilot was about to board the plane. She was getting ready to leave.
This was his chance. He didn’t have to stay for two more weeks. He didn’t have to complete the handover. With a surge of relief, he realised he never needed to talk to Tom again. He could leave now. Right now. If he could only get to that plane in time.
Niklas ran towards it. “Anna!” he cried. “I mean Nina! I’m coming with you!” He ran with heavy strides, struggling through snow that found its way inside his boots and under his jeans, melting into icy water against his shins.
The red parka flapped open in the wind. And out of its pocket flew letters, fluttering to the ground in a trail behind him.
5
Niklas was eighteen years old the afternoon he watched his parents get in the taxi. Helsinki was in the middle of its dreamy summer lull and everybody with a bit of sense had gone to spend their holidays in the countryside, so the journey to the airport was going to be a quick one. The driver put their suitcases in the boot, walked around and sat in the front seat. Niklas’s mother smiled and blew him kisses. She seemed excited, and happier than he had seen her in a long time. His father gave instructions to the driver. Niklas had been granted free use of the family car and he waved to them with the Volkswagen keys in his hand. Then the taxi rolled out of the sweeping driveway and down the road, and he was left standing on the doorstep. He was on his own now. Surely he was old enough to live alone. He was an adult, most people would say. But he certainly didn’t feel like one.
He figured most eighteen-year-olds would have jumped at the chance of living alone in a big house. Being able to invite friends for parties, or to host movie night. He could put out bowls with popcorn and fill the bathtub with ice cubes and beer cans — they sold large plastic bags full of ice cubes at K-Supermarket. He would have to buy them on the day of the party; otherwise, they were sure to melt before everyone arrived.
But Niklas didn’t have any friends. He didn’t have anybody at all. No relatives — at least, none in Helsinki, not since his grandmother passed away last autumn. His mother had written down the phone number of one of her girlfriends and stuck it on the fridge with a magnet, but Niklas knew he would never contact her.
The following evening, his mother phoned from a hotel room. The flight had gone well, thank you. They were going to exchange documents on the house next week. Until then, there was so much to sort out, and afterwards too, of course. But she was happy. She couldn’t believe their dream was finally coming true. They had talked about it and dreamed about it for so long. Dad had worked hard to save up money, and then they had to wait until Niklas was old enough to live alone. Yes, it was for the best that Niklas didn’t come with them. He had a brighter future in Helsinki, without a doubt. But how was Niklas? Had he eaten the dinner she had left him with? Good. There was more in the freezer, but he had to remember to take it out in the morning to defrost. And had the hot weather continued? Yes, it was going to stay hot for another couple of weeks, or so said the newspaper she had read on the plane. Was he looking forward to starting university? Exciting, wasn’t it? It would only be a month, and then he would be making lots of new friends, she was sure.
She wished him a good night’s sleep. Niklas stared at the empty room. The table and the chairs.
6
Niklas ran through the deep snow towards the small jet-plane on the airstrip. His head pounded with every step, but he kept going. The floodlights cast their beams over the plane, and over the pilot, as she climbed aboard and turned to shut the door.
Niklas waved both arms above his head. She looked up, surprised.
“Nina, wait, I’m coming with you!” He reached the plane, wheezing for breath.
“Nick, you’ve finally learnt my name!” she shouted. “I didn’t know you were coming, but that’s fine. The more the merrier!”
Niklas heaved himself up on the plane’s wing and stooped to enter the small cabin. There were only four passenger seats, as the rear of the plane was used as cargo hold. In one of the seats was Juha.
Niklas had forgotten Juha was flying back today, or rather, he had been busy worrying about other things. This meant he could be in for an awkward journey, but as long as he minded his own business and pretended Juha was not there, it should be fine.
He sat in the free passenger seat across the aisle from Juha and strapped himself in. He sank back against the cool leather and glanced around the cabin, careful to avoid meeting Juha’s eyes. At the round windows, the plastic panels with their scuffmarks, the folding tray attached to the wall in front of him. He noticed there was a bottle of water on Juha’s table. He studied the clear liquid. His throat was dry and he had a bitter taste in his mouth. Niklas rubbed his forehead with cold fingers.
Nina sat in the pilot’s seat and put her headset on. She turned to face her two passengers. “We’re stopping to refuel in Longyearbyen, then we continue onwards to Oslo Gardermoen. It’ll be about five hours in total. Everyone ready?”
Juha nodded.
“Nina,” Niklas said. “Do you have drinking water on board?”
Juha sighed. He reached under his seat and produced another bottle of water from his overnight bag.
“Thanks, Juha,” Nina said. She turned her back to the two men and started going through her pilot’s checklist in preparation for take-off.
Niklas twisted the cap open and drank greedily, emptying the whole bottle in one go. The cold water ran down his throat and into his stomach.
“Leaving already?” Juha said.
“Yes.”
“Weren’t you going to stay on for another couple of weeks? Hand over your work to Tom?”
Niklas peered out of the window. It was nearly dark outside, and he could only just make out the contours of the main station.
“Have you made sure he knows everything already?”
If only he kept his back turned, it should discourage conversation. “We had a meeting. Tom assured me he will be fine.”
Nina taxied the plane to the start of the airstrip and aligned it. The noise from the engines grew louder, and Niklas leaned his head against the cool leather seat and gripped the armrests as the plane accelerated down the runway. The jet gained speed, bounced up and then down again, before the landing gear lost contact with the icy surface underneath. The plane ascended into grey mist. As they gained height, Niklas watched how the rock-like blocks of ice seemed smaller and smaller, before they faded away in the dull light. For the first time in fifteen years, he had left the Arctic.
He had almost forgotten the feeling he had when he first arrived, but now he remembered. The Petrov-Nielsen polar research station had not always seemed such a dull place. Niklas remembered the first time he felt the crisp Arctic air. It was the smell and feel of a new world, of adventure. Of escape. As days turned to weeks, the excitement turned into a sense of familiarity, and as weeks turned to months, the familiar became routine. When the first autumn came, and most of the others returned home before the long darkness set in, Niklas felt that he was already home. He volunteered to stay that first winter. Long dark days and nights in the company of books and science. He read and worked on his paper, which was going to cause a stir in the scientific community and make headlines all over the world.
Then the Arc
tic spring came with the light. Endless days and nights of sunshine. Niklas kept working, getting closer and closer to publishing his paper, but never quite there. What if it didn’t turn out to be the big breakthrough he had hoped? Maybe if he put just a little more work into it, he would succeed. Succeed in winning the approval and admiration of his peers.
Juha was always understanding. At least, so Niklas had thought. “Take the time you need,” he had said. Evidently not fifteen years, but still. Niklas had liked having Juha as his boss. Until yesterday happened.
“No luggage?” Juha asked. His voice made Niklas flinch.
“No.”
“I see. And did you clear out your room before you left?”
“No.” No need for that — the Italian student was already on top of it. He wondered what she was going to do with his letters. Burn them? Then he remembered the mess he had left in the corner and ran his hand over his face. He wished he had cleaned it up before he fled. But there was nothing he could do about it now.
“Well, I guess someone will take care of it.” Juha picked up a newspaper from his bag and read the front page. “I have a connection from Oslo to Helsinki. We can try to book you onto the same flight.”
Oslo to Helsinki. What was it, about an hour’s flight? Not much more. He would be there by the evening. What if he headed back to Helsinki after all? He wondered if Emma…
Niklas looked at Juha. “You said you could talk to Pekka…”
Juha turned the page of his newspaper. “I’ll have a word. He might be able to find you a new position. We’d have to make sure you get more… guidance… than you’ve had here.”
Niklas turned his empty water bottle around. The label was written in Finnish. “100% natural spring water”. He was drinking Finnish water.
“Are they still? Is he and…” He turned the water bottle around again and studied the blue label on the other side. “Are they still… together?”
“Who?”
“Pekka and…”
Juha looked up from his newspaper. “Emma? Of course they are. They’ve been married for…” He shrugged. “You should let it go, Niklas.”
The natural Finnish spring water tasted no different from the water they had at the station. Snow. Collected, melted and filtered, then mixed with treated wastewater from their showers and kitchen.
“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going to Helsinki.” Of course they were still together. Why had he even asked?
“No?”
He had to look ahead now; there was no use in dwelling on the past. Juha was right that he should let it go. “I’m going to London.”
“Really? Is that wise?”
The plane hit a spot of turbulence and Niklas squeezed his armrest. He pressed the back of his head against the seat and closed his eyes. Why did Juha talk to him like he was still a student? “Don’t worry, I’ve got something there.”
Juha raised his voice over the drone of the engines. “You’ve got a job lined up in London? Already?”
It wasn’t a job as much as a mission. He was following the paper trail of letters.
Suddenly, the plane dropped for what seemed like a hundred metres. Niklas jolted forward. It felt like he was lifted out of his seat and the 100% natural Finnish water rose in his stomach. Was this normal? He didn’t remember flying being like this.
Nina turned around. “We’ve hit a bit of rough air. It’s common over the Arctic Ocean.”
Niklas gazed out the window. Far below was the Arctic Ocean. Cold, merciless waters. What if they plummeted to their deaths in the icy sea, were eaten by a walrus, and never seen again? A rescue party would be sent out in vain. All that would be found was some chewed-up debris, and a bunch of children’s wish lists to Santa Claus, floating in the waves. Niklas squeezed his eyes shut.
“That was quick.”
“What?” He glanced over at Juha.
“Your new job.”
Niklas swallowed hard. “It turns out my skills are in high demand.”
The plane was shaking violently.
“Who are you joining? A university?”
“No.” He had to find out where those wish lists came from. That was his mission. Maybe he could even get them the things they wanted. Imagine the looks on their parents’ faces. “It’s more of a freelance kind of job.”
“Well, whoever they are, they must be keen.”
Niklas nodded. “Right now is the busy season. I’m needed straight away.”
He patted the outside of his coat pocket. It was completely flat. Where were the letters? He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up.
Juha stared at him. “What are you doing?”
Niklas put his hand in his pocket. “I had them in my pocket. I know I did.” He dug deeper.
“You’ve got to sit down, Nick,” Nina said. “We’re not through the turbulence yet.”
The letters were gone.
“What are you looking for?” Juha asked.
“Nothing…” Had he dropped them? “The letters.” He delved deeper and deeper.
“What letters?”
And there, deep down, at the bottom of his pocket, he found one scrunched-up envelope. He pulled it out. It smelled of violet. Niklas’s stomach contracted, but nothing came up. He sat back down, holding the letter out at arm’s length. It was Sophie’s letter. Sophie, who wanted a red scooter for Christmas. The only letter he had left. Maybe it was for the best. What would he have done with all those letters anyway?
“Otherwise, if you came back to Finland… I could maybe help you. Find you some professional—”
“I’m not going to Finland.” Niklas slipped the letter in his inner pocket and closed the zip.
Juha shrugged. “Well. Good luck then. At your new job. I’m sure it will be great.”
Niklas turned to the window, gazing into the darkness. How had he ended up here? No job, no friends, no family to rely on. Sitting in a small plane somewhere over the Arctic Ocean. He was going to have to try to find something new in London. Somehow, he had to find a new job there. Maybe he could even find a job in science. There had to be lots of opportunities in England. If only he could trick someone into giving him a chance. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Everything was going to be all right.
Juha laughed a strange laugh that Niklas had never heard before. “Niklas, please,” he said. “I want to help you. But I don’t know what else I can try.” The laugh silenced as abruptly as it had started. “It’s partly my fault, I know. I should have said something sooner, and not let you carry on for so long. Please come back to Helsinki with me. You’ll be on your own in London. We’ll be worried.”
Niklas snorted. “It’s a city with millions of people. I’ll hardly be on my own. And by the way, who exactly do you mean when you say we’ll be worried? You and Tom? Pekka?”
“I mean everybody, Niklas.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve made up my mind.” He turned away again. Maybe Juha was right. Maybe he should go back to Helsinki. It was the sensible thing to do. But today Niklas was not in a sensible mood.
And the plane continued its unsteady journey across the Arctic Ocean.
7
Eighteen-year-old Niklas had managed to keep himself alive for one month. He was proud of that, and today was the first day of university. The lecture theatre was filled to the brim with newly arrived first-year students and there was an electric tension in the air. Niklas sat near the back close to the doors, with a rickety foldout table in front of him, ready to take notes as soon as the professor way down at the front started his lecture.
His mother had phoned him every day to begin with, and then weekly. He had even spoken to his father a couple of times. They seemed to be doing well in Tenerife. Lots of work with the new house, but that was expected. Maybe Niklas could come and visit at Christmas-time? Unless he was too busy with his studies? His mother sounded cheerful — happier than she had been in Helsinki. There were often noises in the backgr
ound, people talking, laughing. They must have made new friends already. Niklas couldn’t remember them ever having people over in Helsinki.
The chatter in the room quietened when the lecturer stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat. He was a young man of stout build, wearing round spectacles, and he was dressed for the occasion in a brown suit and white shirt. His name was written in chalk on the board behind him — Juha Wirta — and he informed them he was a researcher at the physics department. The students were going to see a lot more of him over the next few years, he assured them. He told them when the exam was going to be and then he jumped straight into scribbling equations on the board.
There was a creak as the door eased open behind Niklas. A girl entered and slipped into the empty seat next to him. He glanced at her as she pulled a notebook out of her rucksack. She was wearing a pink pleated skirt and a white jumper and had blonde hair. She opened her notebook to the first page and wrote the date and subject at the top. Then she looked at Niklas and smiled. “What did I miss?” she whispered.
Niklas tapped his pen on his notes. “This is when the exam is going to be,” he whispered back.
The lecturer stopped his scribbling and squinted up at his audience. “I forgot to mention.” He lowered his hand holding the chalk. “You will be doing laboratory work as a requirement for passing the final grade. Make sure to pair up in groups of two, ahead of these exercises.”
There was an outbreak of chatter in the room. The pairing had begun, and Niklas had a feeling he would be the odd one out. He had always been the odd one out, so why would it be any different here? He looked down at his notes.
The lecturer, Juha Wirta, tapped the microphone to regain their attention. “More information can be found on the course website. Now back to today’s agenda.”
There was a tap on Niklas’s arm. The girl smiled at him. “Will you be my partner?”
Was she making fun of him? It didn’t seem like it. Niklas nodded.