At break time, Anni said, ‘Why do you want to be involved in some Communist gymnastics competition?’
‘Because I want to win.’
Anni wasn’t looking at Pia, but was walking resolutely towards the tuck shop. Pia felt in her jeans pockets for any coins but knew she would find nothing. She hadn’t had her allowance for two weeks now and it was getting embarrassing borrowing money all the time. Her mother would be paid tomorrow. The smell of freshly baked apple doughnuts became stronger as they got nearer the stall. It was only half past ten but Pia was starving.
Queuing up, Heikki stood next to Pia and Anni. Heikki said, ‘You two gorgeous birds don’t mind if I join you, do you?’
There were looks from the smaller kids down the line.
‘Yeah, sure, you just want to jump the queue,’ Pia said, her eyes on him. Heikki Tuomila was the best-looking guy in the school with his fair hair and broad shoulders. Today he wore a duck-egg blue shirt. His thumbs rested inside the back pockets of his faded jeans. Pia looked down the line but to her relief Sasha was nowhere to be seen.
‘So you’ll go for the competition, then?’ Heikki asked Pia. He was standing so close she could smell his aftershave. The kids were following her every move, eavesdropping on their conversation. ‘Might do,’ she said.
Anni looked at her, ‘What are you having?’
‘Nothing,’
‘You want cash?’
Pia lifted her eyes to her and said, ‘No, it’s OK.’
‘Two apple doughnuts,’ Anni said to the woman in a bright pink housecoat. She gave her the money and picked up the brown paper bag. The smell was unbearable. Then she took one doughnut out and gave it, wrapped around a paper napkin, to Pia. Anni was a real friend.
‘Thanks,’ Pia said.
Anni was the reason Pia had become one of the inside gang. Before she moved to the school, Pia had been a nobody. Anni’s parents were rich, her father was a diplomat and she’d lived all over the world. The family were only staying put in Helsinki for Anni’s education. She was planning to go to university in London or Paris. She lived in a huge old flat, with a bay window and a crystal chandelier in the salon. Sometimes when both Anni and Pia had a free period, they’d go and have lunch there. Anni’s kitchen overlooked a private leafy courtyard, with a lawn in the middle and benches. A secret garden in the middle of the city. Pia had never seen all the rooms in the flat. Anni told her there was a massive attic with windows, but that no one ever went there.
Anni’s father looked like an absent-minded professor, always in a worn-out cardigan, carrying books and papers. But he’d smile and say hello to Pia. She wished her own father was around more, though for years it had been only her and her mother in the little flat on Kasarminkatu.
Pia saw her father once or twice a year when he came over from Malmö in Southern Sweden to stay with Grandmother. The summer weeks by the lake with her dad were the best. They swam, fished and had a sauna nearly every night. Her dad called Pia his little sauna baby. He told her she’d only been two days old when she was taken into Grandmother’s dark, wood-fired sauna. ‘You never cried a bit, just laughed when the heat touched your little body.’ He squeezed Pia close to him. In the winter, just before Christmas, they had less time, but then he brought her nice presents. He bought them in Stockholm on his way through. Last Christmas he even went to Hennes and Mauritz to buy really fashionable clothes. He said the shop assistants helped him, although Pia suspected it was his new wife, whom she’d never met, that had chosen so well for her. Pia didn’t mind. She wished her father and his new wife could live a little closer to Helsinki. But he said his work at the car factory in Malmö couldn’t be moved. Once when Pia was younger, she’d asked if they didn’t need car mechanics in Finland. Her father laughed but didn’t answer the question. Of course, now Pia understood about the unemployment situation in Finland. Sometimes she wondered if the Old Crow ever talked about anything else while she nagged about the importance of a good education.
Walking between Heikki and Anni along the glass-fronted corridor towards the lockers, Pia stopped. Miss Joutila and the Russian were standing in the middle of the schoolyard. It was snowing lightly, and the Russian was wearing a black fur hat, making him stand even taller. Mrs Joutila also had a hat on, a woollen crochet beret. Pia shook her head, how unfashionable could the woman get? Miss Joutila and the man were laughing together. Something about how they stood so close together made Pia think they knew each other very well.
‘She’s a bit of a dark horse, eh,’ Pia said.
Heikki said nothing. He was munching on his doughnut.
Anni moved closer to the glass and said, ‘Traitor.’
‘What?’ Pia didn’t think she’d heard her friend right. What had got into her today?
Miss Joutila and the Russian walked to the gym hall by the side door. Pia decided this was her moment. She stuffed the rest of her doughnut into her mouth and said, ‘See you later.’
Pia was sure Miss Joutila would take the Russian to her little office next to the changing rooms. From the side door, a steel staircase took you up to the gym hall. Pia opened the heavy door and took off her boots. The red-faced caretaker was always telling the pupils off for walking on the polished wooden floor with their outdoor shoes.
Pia looked at the blue mats rolled to the side of the hall and at the climbing ropes tied together in the corner of the room. She felt at home here. She wished she could do a few front rolls on the blue mats instead of having to walk by them. She imagined a hall full of people, all cheering as she preformed her programme to perfection, each hand stand and each roll more gracious and controlled than the one before. She’d attempt a set of three or four back flips. Surely there’d be enough time to practise. She’d ask Miss Joutila.
When Pia reached Miss Joutila’s office, she heard voices.
‘You chosen the girl, yes?’
‘I…’
‘You take one with long brown hair.’ The Russian man’s voice was loud and clear. As if he was issuing instructions to an army.
The gym teacher was quiet, or perhaps Pia didn’t hear her answer.
‘What her name?’ the Russian said.
‘Mäkelä, Pia Mäkelä’
Pia stopped breathing. Her heart was beating so hard, she was afraid that Miss Joutila and the Russian would hear it. Quickly she tiptoed out of the hall, ran past the mats and put her boots back on. She skipped down the steel staircase, then realised how childish it must look and forced herself to walk normally back to the school building.
After the English lesson, Sasha came over to Pia.
‘You’re going for it then?’
‘Going for what?’
Sasha Roche laughed so that the mock blonde curls on her head shook. She was much shorter than Pia, but the hair made her head look twice its size. The whole effect was ridiculous. But her parents were rich. She had a swimming pool in her house and held the most amazing parties. So everyone wanted to be her friend.
Including Heikki.
‘Pia, take my advice. Forget about the Friendship Trophy. You know there are at least two people better on the mats than you. Anni isn’t going to take part. Her right-wing Nazi parents wouldn’t allow it. So that leaves me. So sorry, but we have to think what’s best for the Lyceum. We wouldn’t want to lose at the 25th Friendship Trophy, now would we?’
Sasha left Pia standing by her desk. She was glad she hadn’t said anything about what she’d overheard the Russian say to Miss Joutila. She would enjoy seeing Sasha’s face much more when the team, with Pia as the head gymnast, was announced in assembly.
What Sasha had said about Anni played on Pia’s mind as she sat on the tram on her way home. The number ten was full to bursting. Pia had managed to get a seat but as it approached the centre of the city more and more people came onboard. She had to give her seat to an older lady wearing a huge overcoat and laden with shopping bags. The woman didn’t even say thank you, just slid into the seat as if it was her right. Pia held onto a pole and thought that Anni’s father didn’t look like a Nazi. What was Sasha talking about? Pia hadn’t seen Anni since she’d left her and Heikki in the school corridor. Finnish was the only lesson they had together on Mondays. Even their lunch breaks clashed.