Helena Halme: The Red King of Helsinki: Lies, Spies and Gymnastics

Pia stepped off the tram and instead of walking up to Kasarminkatu, she turned left towards Tehtaankatu and Anni’s home. She couldn’t wait to tell Anni her news. The street was dark, and as the echoes of the tram disappeared behind her, Pia felt a shiver run down her spine. She quickened her step.

All the lights in Anni’s house were out. Pia stood on the pavement opposite for a while, looking at the large windows. The block was a very old one, ‘Jugenstil’, Pia had heard Mrs Härmänmaa once brag to Miss Joutila, ‘…a fabulous example of Finnish Art Nouveau.’

It was a beautiful house. Only four storeys high, with an attic on the top floor. It looked just as Pia imagined a Parisian building, with decorative golden window frames. The roof was slate, with smaller sash windows. Pia looked at the darkened third floor. Anni’s parents weren’t sitting in the dining room or the salon. Pia walked around the corner. Anni’s bedroom was dark too, with the curtains drawn and no light on inside. Pia moved to the other side of the street and stood under a large elm to get a better view. It was cold. She put her hands in the pockets of the white down jacket her father had bought in the autumn.

Pia gazed up at Anni’s flat. Even the bay window was dark. They had a small lamp there, on a dark mahogany table with two antique chairs either side. It was usually switched on, with the curtains tied back with heavy gold tassels. Now all the curtains were drawn. It looked like Anni’s parents were away. Pia walked back to the front door and pressed the intercom button. She stood and waited for a few minutes. Perhaps someone else living in the block would come home and let her in. But the street was quiet.

Opposite Anni’s beautiful building stood the vast Soviet Embassy. It was a modern, grey, three-storey structure, surrounded by a high steel fence and large gardens. The fence was topped by barbed wire. To keep people out or in? All the windows in the building were lit up. Pia hadn’t seen many people enter or leave the building when she’d been to visit Anni. Sometimes the large steel gates opened and a dark car with blacked-out windows drove in or out. Otherwise the vast three-storey building and the gardens surrounding it seemed void of people.

Pia hurried back down Tehtaankatu. As she turned into Kasarminkatu, her own street, a man in dark clothing nearly knocked her over. ‘Oi, watch it!’ Pia shouted, but the man didn’t even look at her. Pia stopped dead. She’d recognised him from that morning.

The Russian, Mr Kovtun, was running as fast as he could on the slippery street towards the tram stop.

Leena Joutila sat at her desk, smoking a cigarette. She should be getting ready for her next class, but she didn’t move from her seat. She tapped the fingers of her free hand against the heavy black telephone receiver on her desk. She thought about Vladsislas, or Vadi, as he had asked her to call him. How long had it been since Leena had last been this infatuated? She didn’t usually allow herself this kind of teenage behaviour, but Vadi was different. As soon as Leena heard his voice, or saw his eyes, she felt her armpits dampen, her breath quicken. He was also the first foreign man Leena had ever fallen for. Not that her love life had been that exciting. Leena pursed her mouth and smiled. Well, at least she would have something to tell the young girls who at that very moment were doing everything but what they’d been told to in the gym hall. As if they’d be interested. What the girls didn’t understand was how much Leena could help them if they allowed her to. Instead they didn’t listen, thought they knew everything already. Instead they were obnoxious, unruly and loud. Always giggling, always making faces behind her back. Oh, Leena was so tired of the Lyceum. Tired of Mrs Härmänmaa, who seemed to think Leena had no idea how to do her job. The Head should remember that Leena, at forty-four, had two years’ seniority to her.

Vadi was tall, blond and muscular. She saw how his arms flexed through the tight-fitting shirt as he clapped at the end of the performance in Moscow. The pupils at the Soviet school had been immaculately behaved at all times. They were so orderly during the gymnastics display Leena had attended at the end of the visit, it had left her breathless. Afterwards she and Vadi had shared a drink in the bar of the vast hotel where Leena was staying. Vladsislas’ Finnish was charmingly disjointed, but flirtatious. At the end of the evening he told her she was beautiful.

Leena didn’t worry about first or second date rules. She was grown-up after all and didn’t need to play games. She invited Vadi to her room and after a couple of vodkas Leena found herself amongst tangled sheets, admiring Vadi’s lean body.

Back in Helsinki, Vadi called her the next day. Leena was flattered. She cooked him a meal in her small flat in Töölö and bought Koskenkorva vodka for him. She even drank some to keep Vadi company. The liquor made her heady. When Vadi made his move, she was glad she’d put clean sheets on her bed. Afterwards he told her about his daughter. Leena had noticed the long-limbed, brown-haired girl was the star of the Moscow school team.

‘My daughter, she very beautiful. And talented. But so, so sad,’

‘Why?’

‘She cannot go home.’

‘Oh,’ Leena was puzzled. Why was he telling her all this? ‘Where is home?’

Vadi looked at Leena as if she had asked him to share his most intimate secret.

‘Minsk.’

‘And her mother?’

Vadi waved his hand, ‘No good.’

‘Oh.’ Leena didn’t know what to say next. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Alyona. Beautiful name, no?’

‘Yes.’ Again Leena struggled to know what the man was getting at.

‘They keep her jail, yes?’ Vadi looked at Leena.

‘Prisoner?’

‘Yes, yes, because she so good at jumping.’ Here Vadi made an arch with his arms like a ballet dancer.

Leena smiled.

Vadi fixed his dark eyes on her and continued with a serious face. Leena straightened her mouth.

‘But it terrible. Not enough food, very, very hard work. And school cold – you notice, yes?’

‘Yes.’ Leena was surprised at the man’s critical tone. In Moscow, Vadi had seemed a typical Soviet official, towing the party line. He hadn’t said a word about the lack of proper drink or food at the hotel, nor about the poorly-fitting costumes the girls wore during the performance. He’d hardly seemed to notice that the hall was cold, even though their breath steamed in the chilly space as they exchanged compliments on the girls’ performance. Had he been watched in Moscow? Leena didn’t say anything for a while. Vadi got out of bed. He had such a wonderful physique; no doubt where the girl got hers from. He pulled on his white trunks and trousers and poured himself more vodka.

‘So I want to help her,’ Vadi took Leena’s face into his strong hands, ‘and I ask you help too, yes?

It was now three days since he’d last been to the flat. Leena missed his strong body next to hers. Was it wrong of her to enjoy sex with him so much? He seemed to know instinctively how to touch her. She felt her cheeks redden when she thought of the power with which he entered her. Was she getting obsessed? She shrugged at the thought. Of course she wasn’t. She was a modern, single woman with a lover, that’s all. If only there weren’t all these complications. If only Vadi hadn’t told her about his problems. On that first time in Helsinki, she’d tried to control her emotions, but couldn’t help promising she’d do everything she could to help.

Leena inhaled deeply on her cigarette. How would it all end? To have a chance to win the Friendship Trophy was wonderful. But the level of achievement at the Moscow Girls’ School was far beyond that of Helsinki Lyceum. None of the girls in Leena’s school spent enough time training. How could they possibly win? Especially with Pia Mäkelä. Vadi had insisted that Pia had looked the most upright and enthusiastic, and that he’d spotted real talent in her at Christmas.