Mari put the book down-she couldn’t concentrate. For lunch, they had had sausage soup, and it was still several hours till dinner. Nothing else was happening. Just outside the door to their room was some kind of weekly schedule. Today, it included some conversation groups, a cooking class, and art and music classes for kids, but Laura was probably too old for those.
She turned to look at her daughter, now reading on her stomach with her feet kicked up. Mari felt fairly comfortable-the place was safe, at least. And, for
once she had time to read. But something still nagged at her.
She picked up her book again, but was still unable to focus. She tried to pinpoint what it was that didn’t seem right, but came up empty. Her instincts told her that something was wrong. Well, damn right something’s wrong when she and her daughter are holed up in the woods hiding from murderers. But everything would work out, she assured herself. Joutsamo and Takamäki-indeed the entire police force-were on their side and would do everything in their power to protect them. The bodybuilder downstairs would keep them safe here and have droves of cops on the place if necessary. Everything was okay. Look at it like a free vacation, she told herself. Read a few classics and relax. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Kind of like a Mediterranean vacation without the swimming pools and beaches-just a hotel room and a book.
Mari wasn’t so sure about her attempts at being positive.
An incoming text message announced itself. Laura gave a passing glance as Mari got up, walked to the coat hooks at the door and fetched her phone out of her coat pocket, but the girl’s attention soon returned to her book.
Mari read the message-it was from her boss, Essi Saari: Hi. I chatted with the police. Lay low as long as you need. It’s paid leave. Good luck!
Mari read the message over and over again. Of course she was happy that her employer was being supportive, even promising to pay her, but “lay low as long as you need?”
Lay low-the wording seemed about as appealing as these four oppressive walls. The rules stated that she could go out in the yard, but no further.
“Who was it from?” asked Laura.
“Work.”
The girl stared at her mom for a while. “You know, this is actually kind of exciting. Kinda like a movie, you know…witnesses hiding out in a hotel room. The only person that ever knocks is room service, except for the one time that the killer comes to the door.”
“Stop it,” said Mari. Just then, a knock came at the door. Both of them startled.
“Don’t open it,” whispered Laura.
The knock came again. Mari shuddered, not that there was anything to worry about-this place definitely didn’t have room service. She slipped the door chain into the slot, unlocked the door and peeked through the gap.
“Hi,” said a dark-skinned woman with a smile. She looked about forty, wore an afro and had a three-inch laceration running down her cheek. The wound was old enough that the stitches were gone. She spoke with an accent. “I make some coffee. You like some?”
Mari didn’t know how to react. Were they allowed to speak with others here? The rulebook forbade revealing any personal details. Not even your own name.
The woman smiled, though her scar made her expression rather gruesome. “I’m Agatha. Come, come. It’s okay. I been here now two months. I know rules.”
Mari nodded. Agatha, huh? Was that her real name? “Laura, honey. I’m going to have a cup of coffee. I’ll be over in the common room.”
Laura looked up. “You’re leaving me? Can’t
I come?”
“Oh…of course.”
Laura slipped a bookmark into her book.
Mari turned and smiled at the woman waiting at the door. “Alright. We’ll be right there.”
Agatha had apparently put the coffee on before knocking on their door, as it was already waiting when Mari and Laura reached the common area. The chairs and table were a newer vintage than those in the rooms.
“You have beautiful girl,” said Agatha, her back turned toward them as she poured the coffees at the counter. Laura looked embarrassed.
“Yes,” said Mari, not knowing what else to say.
“Does she like coffee?” asked Agatha.
Mari glanced at Laura, who rolled her eyes as if to say that ‘no, isn’t there any tea?’ Mari shrugged. “No, she doesn’t.”
“What about tea?” said Agatha, turning to look at Laura.
Laura nodded with a smile. “Thanks.”
Agatha returned the smile, took a tea bag from the cabinet, put it in a cup and doused it with hot water from the pot. “It is no worry, but we pay for tea and coffee together. Easier for us if each just pays five euro per week, no matter if we drink tea or coffee. These I will buy,” said Agatha, and she gave Laura her tea. A bowl of sugar was on the table, and Laura added a couple of spoonfuls.
Agatha sat down at the table and gazed at Mari with her dark eyes. “So…what is your story?”
Mari hesitated. “I can’t say. The police…”
Agatha laughed. “Yes, we are not supposed to
talk. But here you have to. Or you go crazy. We are all here in same boat.”
Mari wasn’t so eager to break the rules, however, so she turned the question around. “What’s your story?”
“How long version you like?” Agatha smiled, and she continued without waiting for a response. “I tell you shorter one so your daughter not fall asleep. I am a Turkish Kurd and I come to Finland four years ago with my husband and my daughter. My husband had bad situation in Turkey, and we got residence permit. Life here was quite good. I got a job and Nabila, my daughter…”
“How old is she?” asked Mari.
“Six, now.” A flicker of sadness showed in the woman’s eyes. “She is not here.”
“Why not?”
Agatha raised her finger and smiled. “I will get to that. A year ago Nabila was in day care, and around same time Hamid get mixed up in some crimes. They steal some things and get caught by the police. Hamid got arrested, but got out quite soon. That starts a big fight. I tell him we have to obey the law for Nabila sake, but Hamid…he is very bitter because he cannot find work. Our fight just gets worse and worse, and so I go to get divorce. It takes forever, but finally the court gives me a divorce and papers to give me custody of Nabila.”
A pretty familiar story, thought Mari, but she just nodded.
“Hamid does not approve, so my friend at work told that I should get a restraining order. Well, this does not help much. Hamid just violates it, and they start deportation process because of his crimes. His hatred for me just grows. So I have to send Nabila back home to Turkey to be safe with my mother. When Hamid finds out about it, he tries to kill me. The police came in time, and Hamid goes to jail again. I was moved here because Hamid has many friends, and the police think I’m in danger.”
“Where did you live?”
“Savonlinna.”
Mari was cradling her coffee cup in her hands. “When did this happen?”
“Three months ago.”
“And?”
“Last week a policeman came and said that there is still danger.”
Laura was quietly sipping her sweetened tea, but she threw in a question, “How is Nabila doing?”
Agatha smiled. “I think she’s okay. She must wait there until everything is better. That can take some time.”
Mari looked at Laura, who went on, “Why don’t you go to her?”
“If I go, I lose residence permit. Things will settle down. Finland is better country than Turkey. I think Hamid will be deported and so he cannot travel to EU countries anymore. And Turkey will not become EU country for many years. After that, Nabila and I can be safe together.” Agatha sipped her coffee. “I have time to wait for what is best.”