‘Who are you going to believe, your own daughter or your fancy English boyfriend, who by the way…’
‘What about him?’ Her mother was now hysterical, screaming the words.
‘Oh nothing,’ Pia said. For Anni’s sake she must not tell her mother about the British Council. Pia couldn’t understand what the Admiral was playing at. Or had her mother got the wrong idea?
‘Iain said he had contacts, and that he knew that if not you, then some of your friends are taking drugs. And then the money went missing!’
‘The money?’
‘Last night I had two five hundred mark notes in my purse and now I only have one.’
‘And you think I took it,’ Pia whispered. She was hurt. Why was her mother being so stupid?
‘From now on you are not to go out in the evenings. And I forbid you to take part in that Russian Competition!’
‘Forbid me? You’re crazy!’ Pia had had enough, ‘Believe what you like,’ she said and went into her room. She turned the key in the lock and lay on her bed crying. Silently. She didn’t want her mother to hear. Let her wail and cry like an old Saami woman. If she wanted to believe the worst of Pia, it was her problem. What had got into her? And what did she have against the Friendship Tournament? Or did she just say that to be nasty? Why had the Admiral, or Iain, told her such lies? Typical that she would flip just as Pia needed her. Hadn’t she seen how close she had been to being abducted by some man? Pia shuddered and felt a dread in her chest. Who was the man with the stinking breath and what did he want with her?
Maija knocked on the door. She shouted Pia’s name, but soon stopped. Pia knew her mother wouldn’t want the neighbours to hear them fight.
Iain saw the lights on inside Maija’s flat. He considered whether he could make an unannounced visit late at night without arousing suspicions. He saw Maija reach and close the curtains, so sheer that you could see right through them. Maija seemed to be waving her arms about. But Iain could not make out if anyone was in the room with her. Lights came on in the room next to the kitchen, but the Venetian blinds were closed.
Iain stood for a long while hidden in the porch of the block of flats opposite Maija’s, watching for any more movement behind the kitchen curtains. He glanced at his watch; four minutes to nine. The lights in the kitchen went out and he could see a woman’s faint silhouette leaving the room. Iain decided to use the phone box by the Johannes Church.
‘I think they’re both at home.’
‘You think?’ Iain heard the sarcasm in the Colonel’s voice.
‘Well, I can’t believe Maija would go to bed without her daughter at home, Sir. Or do you wish me to make an approach? Might seem highly suspicious.’
The Colonel was quiet for a moment. The phone box smelled of urine. Iain wanted desperately to go back to his flat and get into a warm, clean bed instead of standing in the bitter Helsinki night, feeling unappreciated.
‘Alright, Collins, but tomorrow morning, before you leave, I want you there in the same spot to confirm that the girl is inside. Catch sight of her before she goes to school and report back to me.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And Collins – that boy, the girl’s boyfriend. No sight of him at the Council.’
‘Oh,’ said Iain. He had definitely seen him go in. And he’d locked the door after himself. ‘Must have heard your men and slipped out.’
‘Or heard you and fled before we got there.’ The Colonel said dryly. ‘But don’t concern yourself with him. I’ve got a pair of eyes following the lad’s every move now.’
Iain decided to walk home. He made his way back to Kasarminkatu for one last look at Maija’s windows, before he headed south towards his street. When he turned the corner, he saw a blond man, without a hat, walking a few paces in front of him. The ankle-length black leather coat made him look sinister and out of place. Iain ducked into a porch. The man walked along the snow-covered Kasarminkatu. He seemed in no hurry, despite the Helsinki chill. The man stopped outside Maija’s block of flats, looked up to the building opposite him and took a swig out of a hip flask. Iain recognised him immediately: Vladsislas Kovtun.
8
Pia and Maija didn’t speak to each other the next morning. Over breakfast they sat silently eating bread and cheese. Pia was glad her mother had decided to keep her mad accusations to herself and relived when she heard the front door close. But she was also sad. Her anger towards her mother had evaporated during the long, sleepless night. Why did her mother have to be so stupid to think that Pia would get involved with drugs? But she was like that. Once she got something into her head, however trivial, she wouldn’t believe anybody. Pia remembered when she insisted that Bobby in Dallas was really called Jimmy. Pia had argued and argued, getting more and more angry, until they’d next seen the programme. Her mother had really been embarrassed then! If only she’d known how frightened Pia was now, not being able to sleep, and thinking about the man all night long. How had her mother missed the whole incident last night?
Pia watched from the kitchen window as Maija, with her head bent against the cold wind, walked briskly towards the tram stop. The night had brought more snow. Pia had heard the snow ploughs working since before dawn.
Some mornings Maija and Pia took the tram into town together. Pia got to school early, but she didn’t mind. It was nice to talk to her mother on the tram, instead of watching the same miserable people every day. Pia wished she’d gone with her mother after all. Now she’d have to face the tram on her own. What if the Russian was outside, waiting for her?
Pia ate more rye bread and drank black coffee. The dishes from the night before were still in the sink. Her mother had also left her own dirty breakfast things at the table for Pia to clear up. But she couldn’t move a muscle. She was so tired. The block of flats was quiet. The only noise was the humming of the engine outside, as the snow plough moved slowly past the building, its orange warning lights flickering against the grey dawn. Pia wanted to climb back into bed. She could see the wind lifting snow from the top of the piles the plough had created either side of the street. Spirals of white flew upwards as the wind took hold of the newly fallen flakes.
Should she bunk off school today? No, she needed to train with Miss Joutila. And there was a chance Anni would be back. Plus she didn’t want to miss seeing Heikki. She would tell him about the man and ask him to protect her. Pia thought of his lips. Would he hold her hand as they walked into the classroom this morning? Or would Heikki think that wasn’t cool? She decided to call Anni. It was only half past eight, she might still be at home. Pia let the phone ring for a long time, in case Anni was far away from the hall, in the depths of that large apartment. But there was no answer.
Pia put her feet into the fur-lined boots her father gave her last Christmas and added a long scarf with multi-coloured stripes. She’d be warm enough. After one final look in the hall mirror, Pia ran down the stairs and into the snowy street outside.
Heikki was waiting for her at the top of the stairs leading to the entrance of the Lyceum. He stood with his feet apart, his hands in the pockets of his short jacket. He wasn’t wearing a hat either, and Pia was glad she’d left hers at home. She knew her mother would complain about it later.
‘Alright, hon?’ Heikki said, and took Pia’s hand.
‘Yeah, cool,’ she said, feeling breathless at the touch of his warm, strong fingers. They walked hand in hand through the front door, past the smaller kids, who looked at them in awe, then past the lockers, where Pia saw Sasha taking off her ankle-length Puffa coat. Sasha turned and immediately saw their hands. Pia flicked her hair back and tilted her head towards Heikki’s shoulder. As they walked towards the staircase, Pia turned back and scanned the entrance, but there was no sign of Anni. Heikki gave her a light kiss on her mouth as they parted at the top of the stairs.