“I see,” she coos. A new sharpness comes over her; a new game has begun. “All right. But only if you can guess what kind of ice cream I want. If you don’t, I’m leaving and we’ll never have anything more to do with each other. I’ll even take my book to another publisher.”
She says this with a smile. But Olli can see that she’s serious and has horrified even herself with what she has said.
“Fine,” Olli says, feigning confidence. He hasn’t the slightest idea what Greta’s favourite ice cream is, but he can play for time.
They start down the steps. At the bottom is an ice cream stand. They don’t say a word, just glance at each other now and then, Greta trying to hide her fear that Olli won’t remember, Olli trying not to look desperate. He has to calm down. His heart is pounding too fast; his ears are roaring so loud he can’t hear.
He can’t help but notice that the cinematic beauty of the woman beside him draws the attention of passers-by. This gives him pleasure, and a fatalistic calm. Whatever will be will be. Everything has its own meaning. He tries to focus on that. Don’t think of what you’ve wagered in the middle of the game.
When they reach the street, Greta sits down on the edge of the blue fountain. Olli goes to the kiosk window and looks at Greta one more time. Underneath her smile she’s like a frightened child.
Olli buys two ice cream cones, pays and turns around with the cones in his hands.
Greta’s eyes sparkle with joy.
Olli answers her smile.
He needs to sit down too, so his legs won’t fail him.
Just a moment earlier he was seeing in his mind’s eye how this meeting could end in catastrophe. Greta, offended at Olli’s forgetting, could leave him standing there at the bottom of the hill. The result: Book Tower would lose the author most important to its future, people would lose their jobs, the kidnappers would take revenge for his failure on Aino and his boy. Olli’s life would be ruined.
Then he remembered something about Greta and ice cream. The closer they got to the bottom of the steps, the clearer it grew in his mind.
And when he stepped up to the ice cream stand, the memory finally opened up completely: he and the girl in the pear-print dress stop at a little kiosk at the corner of Puistokatu and Tellervonkatu, thirty years ago. They’ve come to buy ice cream. When they left the house Greta said she wanted a strawberry ice cream cone. She grabbed Olli’s hand, looked deep into his eyes, and made him vow to remember forever that she never, ever ate any ice cream but strawberry.
Back then he never asked why strawberry, although he had wondered.
He asks now.
Greta demurs for a moment, but eventually says, “You must not remember it, but at the very beginning of our summer together I said I felt like having some ice cream. I didn’t have any money. You had half a markka. Enough to get one ice cream cone at Hjelt’s, which we ate together. It was strawberry, because they were out of everything else.”
They go back up Harju Ridge and sit on a park bench near the steps looking out over the city. People are climbing up and down. Olli remembers something from the Magical City Guide:
M-particle levels on the steps vary from one day to the next, but even at their most ordinary the steps offer a fine view of the great meetings and partings of life.
“So you’re still not tired of this flavour?” Olli asks.
Greta licks her cone and shakes her head. “In Paris, Brazil, Hollywood… everywhere I’ve been I’ve only eaten strawberry. In Bombay I thought I would have to go without, but then I had Amul strawberry ice cream. I was rather weak at the time, and the ice cream helped me cope. I might have died without it. My friends there bought it for me when they found out what it meant to me.”
Greta turns her face away, embarrassed. Her golden hair shines so brightly that it dazzles him.
“Oh, Olli,” she whispers. “We have so much to talk about. More than we could possibly have time to say, or hear, even if we sat here talking for the rest of our lives. And we don’t have… But never mind. You have to go to buy some liver casserole. I’m sure your family is expecting it.”
She gets up, puts on her large movie-star sunglasses, thanks him for the ice cream, and walks away towards the city.
Your mission is to buy her an ice cream and make her look forward to your next meeting.
Olli is left sitting on the bench, thinking. They succeeded in eating ice cream, but will he succeed in the next part of his mission?
The order to meet Greta Kara “by accident” on the Harju Steps came from the Blomroos siblings. The three of them got carried away and each one sent their own separate message.
Richard Blomroos wrote:
Hey there, Olli. How are you? Good, I hope, even if your family is away at the moment “on holiday”, if you don’t mind the expression. I’m sorry about that. But I’m even more sorry about what we did to Greta thirty years ago. Of course, we were just stupid kids, but that doesn’t absolve us of responsibility. We’ve thought a lot about what happened. We want to make it up to Greta, and to you. We took something important away from both of you.
Leo Blomroos’s message said:
Olli my friend, what happened to Greta late one summer is unforgivable. I wish I could blame Anne, who put us up to it. Or Richard, who never needed much encouragement to pull a prank, not even when he was older. (He’s been to jail a couple of times, thanks to his poor judgement.) But as the leader of the Tourula Five, I’m the one who’s ultimately responsible for everyone and everything, so I blame myself. I could have easily stopped them, but I didn’t. That makes me the guiltiest of all. I’ll be sorry for it for the rest of my days. I want to say that I’ll never do anything like that again, but unfortunately I don’t see any alternative right now, in spite of what my sense and my conscience tell me, but to go along with this thing, which I’m sure is causing you a great deal of stress. But it is an attempt of sorts to expiate our sins against that which we have broken. That means something, doesn’t it? I hope you understand, my friend, but I realize that you probably hate all of us right now.
The actual instructions, however, came from Anne, which didn’t surprise Olli:
Hi Olli, dear old friend (take my word for it, I think of you often with fondness and nostalgia, although I’m sure you prefer not to think about me)—I know of course that this is all probably rather tough for you, but I hope that you’re not too broken up to do what you have to do.
As you know, thirty years ago my brothers and I did a terrible thing. A criminal, traitorous, senseless thing for which there is no defence, not even the stupidity of youth or the jealousy that drove a young girl to desperate acts. Ever since then it has followed all of us, as it no doubt has our victim, Greta. There comes a time when such things must be settled, accounts balanced, sins atoned for. Due to unforeseen circumstances, it can’t be put off any longer.
Olli darling, I’m so awfully sorry but now I have to boss you around. Tomorrow afternoon you must go to the top of the Harju Steps. Start walking down the steps at exactly one o’clock. You will meet Greta on the steps, quite by accident. Your mission is to buy her an ice cream and make her look forward to your next meeting.
Do not say anything about this message or mention me or my brothers. She doesn’t want to hear anything about us. We did, after all, destroy her thirty years ago, in more ways than one. And don’t say anything about your family being gone—there’s no point in shocking her with such news. Make sure that she wants to see you again. You will receive further instructions later. And Olli, we will be aware of everything you do, so buddy, don’t do anything rash if you don’t want anybody to be hurt more than they already have been. That would break my heart.