his room and put headphones on, then he could conduct the orchestra again, though he couldn’t properly take flight – there wasn’t enough space in his room.
‘Bye then! Give me a ring and we’ll go out!’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, again and again, and it was the truth: he really didn’t know. He turned and began plodding towards the front door, and no matter how hard he stared at his shoes they remained just a pair of beaten-up trainers, and he couldn’t make them chat to one another.
14. Something to tell you
‘Hi. How come you’re back so early?’
‘To be perfectly honest I’ve had a really shit day. First off this morning someone ended up under a train and all the lines were down. I didn’t get to Kontula until well after ten.’
‘Another suicide?’
‘How should I know? But it made me feel pretty bad. Even though I’m well aware that my fear of death is in fact a fear of rejection, it still doesn’t help.’
‘Cup of tea?’
‘Yes please,’ said Mikko, placing his briefcase on the floor. All of a sudden he could no longer understand why he had bothered carrying those few sheets of paper with him all day. He could just as well have left them at the office or at home that morning; he knew it all off by heart, like a poem: “Someone called out his name…” Maybe it was just a habit that had stuck from the days when he was able to write properly. He had had an almost irrational fear of losing his papers or that they would be destroyed in a fire or in some other terrible way, so he had always made numerous copies of everything and kept them in different places.
‘We’re going to take the flat, Dad. There’s just enough room for two and since we’ll be sharing the rent it’ll be fine.’
‘That’s great news,’ he sighed. He walked up to his daughter and put his arms around her, but a moment later that same uncertain guilt reawoke within him, and he began to explain, or rather, to defend himself. ‘You know it’s not that I’m kicking you out…’
‘I know, I know. Let’s not start that again.’
‘But I need you to understand. It’s just I can’t think or write with someone else under the same roof. It makes me nervous, like I’m always worried something’s going to happen and I’ll have to go and help. And I need to be able to walk around at night without worrying that I’m going to wake you up. And I talk to myself a lot… the characters’ lines.’
‘You think I haven’t noticed?’
‘Well, no and… To be honest, financially this is a bit overwhelming. I can only barely afford to pay rent on two flats, and then there’s the travelling. It doesn’t come cheap, you know.’
‘Dad, I know.’
‘I’m being silly; of course you know. But soon they’ll be out of the way, and then I can turn this place into a proper home – with a workroom – and when I jump out of bed I can be right in front of the computer, just like back in Kulosaari.’
Sanna turned and picked up the chopping board. Her movements had suddenly become stiff and angular, her neck tensed, and Mikko had the distinct impression that everything was not quite right. Perhaps he had been too excited about Sanna’s move and had offended her.
‘Listen,’ she began. He had been right: her voice was completely different from before; it was lower, almost as if she were holding back tears.
‘Yes?’
‘There’s something I need to tell you…’
‘Then you need to get it off your chest.’
‘I can’t…’
‘And why not?’ he asked, only to realise immediately how clumsy it sounded. He gently stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. At this Sanna spun round and hugged him tightly around theneck, the way she had done as a little girl. But something was terribly wrong. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her whole body heaving as she sobbed, as painfully as if she had just heard about the death of a loved one.
‘What on earth’s the matter? Are you…?’
‘N-no…
‘Bye then! Give me a ring and we’ll go out!’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, again and again, and it was the truth: he really didn’t know. He turned and began plodding towards the front door, and no matter how hard he stared at his shoes they remained just a pair of beaten-up trainers, and he couldn’t make them chat to one another.
14. Something to tell you
‘Hi. How come you’re back so early?’
‘To be perfectly honest I’ve had a really shit day. First off this morning someone ended up under a train and all the lines were down. I didn’t get to Kontula until well after ten.’
‘Another suicide?’
‘How should I know? But it made me feel pretty bad. Even though I’m well aware that my fear of death is in fact a fear of rejection, it still doesn’t help.’
‘Cup of tea?’
‘Yes please,’ said Mikko, placing his briefcase on the floor. All of a sudden he could no longer understand why he had bothered carrying those few sheets of paper with him all day. He could just as well have left them at the office or at home that morning; he knew it all off by heart, like a poem: “Someone called out his name…” Maybe it was just a habit that had stuck from the days when he was able to write properly. He had had an almost irrational fear of losing his papers or that they would be destroyed in a fire or in some other terrible way, so he had always made numerous copies of everything and kept them in different places.
‘We’re going to take the flat, Dad. There’s just enough room for two and since we’ll be sharing the rent it’ll be fine.’
‘That’s great news,’ he sighed. He walked up to his daughter and put his arms around her, but a moment later that same uncertain guilt reawoke within him, and he began to explain, or rather, to defend himself. ‘You know it’s not that I’m kicking you out…’
‘I know, I know. Let’s not start that again.’
‘But I need you to understand. It’s just I can’t think or write with someone else under the same roof. It makes me nervous, like I’m always worried something’s going to happen and I’ll have to go and help. And I need to be able to walk around at night without worrying that I’m going to wake you up. And I talk to myself a lot… the characters’ lines.’
‘You think I haven’t noticed?’
‘Well, no and… To be honest, financially this is a bit overwhelming. I can only barely afford to pay rent on two flats, and then there’s the travelling. It doesn’t come cheap, you know.’
‘Dad, I know.’
‘I’m being silly; of course you know. But soon they’ll be out of the way, and then I can turn this place into a proper home – with a workroom – and when I jump out of bed I can be right in front of the computer, just like back in Kulosaari.’
Sanna turned and picked up the chopping board. Her movements had suddenly become stiff and angular, her neck tensed, and Mikko had the distinct impression that everything was not quite right. Perhaps he had been too excited about Sanna’s move and had offended her.
‘Listen,’ she began. He had been right: her voice was completely different from before; it was lower, almost as if she were holding back tears.
‘Yes?’
‘There’s something I need to tell you…’
‘Then you need to get it off your chest.’
‘I can’t…’
‘And why not?’ he asked, only to realise immediately how clumsy it sounded. He gently stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. At this Sanna spun round and hugged him tightly around theneck, the way she had done as a little girl. But something was terribly wrong. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her whole body heaving as she sobbed, as painfully as if she had just heard about the death of a loved one.
‘What on earth’s the matter? Are you…?’
‘N-no…
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