The Hummingbird by Kati Hiekkapelto

cassava from a shared bowl.
Then the officers made a phone call. The interpreter told us we would have to wait a while longer – huh, we’d only been waiting for like ten hours already – then we’d be taken to a centre where we’d be given our own room and abbou everyone would have their own bed. And eventually they took us there in one of the border agency’s dark-green minibuses. It felt amazing, sitting in the bus looking out at the strange new city flashing past the window. It was evening already and it had started to rain, and all the street lights were reflected strangely in the raindrops on the window.
I pretended we were in a taxi on our way to a luxurious hotel somewhere.
Except that Mum was sitting next to me weeping and Dad was angry with her for it.

11
VIRVE SARLIN was a short girl with a very fair complexion and long, light-blonde hair. She gave off the sweet smell of incense and was dressed in a pair of baggy, red velvet trousers and a dark-green tunic. A collection of chains and wooden beads hung round her neck, and around her wrist jangled a bracelet of small bells. When she wasn’t twiddling a strand of hair round her forefinger, she was chewing her nails or fiddling with her abundant jewellery. Dark shadows loomed beneath her grey, make-up-free eyes and the area round her nose was reddened. She looked exhausted.
‘Hi, Virve. I’m Detective Constable Fekete Anna.’
Virve gave Anna an agitated glance.
‘So you’re Riikka’s best friend, is that right?’
Virve’s chin and nostrils began to tremble and she let out a gravelly squeal as she tried to hold back the tears.
‘She’s been my best friend since first grade.’ Virve’s voice was brittle, like a child’s.
Anna handed the girl a tissue. She felt like a therapist, the kind of person to whose office her own headmaster and head of year had sent her throughout middle school. There had always been a box of tissues on hand there too. Anna had never needed one. She had never told the therapist anything and had never burst into tears. After her third visit, she had informed the headmaster that she wouldn’t be attending any longer, that running was far more therapeutic. The headmaster said he was very concerned about her. She had laughed in his face.
‘Let it out,’ said Anna. ‘This has all been a big shock.’
‘It’s terrible. I can’t sleep properly – I’ve been wide awake from the moment Riikka’s mum called and told me what had happened. I keep seeing her going out on that run, pulling on that hideous tracksuit, again and again. It’s like a film stuck in my head, playing over and over.’
Anna’s heart skipped a beat. Had Virve been there when Riikka had set off on her final run? She bided her time and pulled the contact information for a crisis helpline from her desk drawer. She handed Virve the leaflet. The girl scrutinised it for a moment, thanked her and stuffed it into her tasselled jute bag.
‘You should make use of this service, especially since the state provides it free of charge. But I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you all sorts of questions. Are you up to it?’
Virve blew her nose on the tissue Anna had given her and nodded.
‘Right, let’s get started. Were you with Riikka on the day she died?’
‘Yes, yes. I mean, not all day, but almost. She lives … I mean, she used to live at my place.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘She lived at my place, has done since she split up with Jere.’
‘So Riikka and Jere were no longer together?’
‘That’s right. Split up at Midsummer. Riikka moved in with me straight afterwards.’
‘It seems Riikka’s parents didn’t know anything about this.’
‘You bet they didn’t. Riikka had decided to tell them once she’d moved to Jyväskylä. She was worried they’d try and force her to move back home, especially because they’d fretted so much about her moving in with Jere in the first place. She didn’t want to tell them anything about it, at least not for the