28
1945
Tuula saw Nils several evenings a week that summer. She didn’t like to leave the children, so he usually came over to her place when they had fallen asleep. Occasionally the children spent the night with Aino and Heikki, and then she and Nils were able to go for walks, have coffee and cakes somewhere, or have dinner at his home.
When the bakery closed for a week in July and everyone was given a week off, Nils suggested that Tuula and her kids accompany him to his summer cottage. “I want to go fishing as soon as we get there!” Matias said when Nils arrived to pick them up. Nils laughed and ruffled his hair, gave Tuula a kiss on the cheek, and patted Ritva’s shoulder. Matias had been beside himself with excitement ever since Tuula told them about the vacation. Ritva had been more reserved, but now she, too, was smiling expectantly. A remarkable sense of calm suffused Tuula’s body. This was the first time her little family had gone on a long journey together. An enjoyable journey, at least.
Tuula had been concerned about how the children would react when she started seeing Nils. She wasn’t worried about them feeling that their own father was being replaced—Ritva hardly knew her father, and Matias didn’t remember him at all. In fact, she was certain that it would be good for them to have Nils in their lives. But she was anxious about change. They had already been through so much, and for the first time in a long time their lives were stable. She could only hope that Nils would strengthen and contribute to that stability. To Tuula he meant security, and she thought he would be a good male role model for the children. Maybe she was jumping the gun, but their relationship felt so right. Someone who was so assured, so comfortable in their own skin would never desert her. She felt sure they would stay together.
The only fly in the ointment was that she had heard the gossip in the village. Things hadn’t improved after the incident last week. Tensions between the Swedes and the Finns remained high, and she worried whether Nils would cope with that. She glanced at him as he confidently drove along. If not, surely he would have left her already?
They traveled through the undulating landscape, past fields of wheat, huge meadows, and evergreen and deciduous forests. Nils stopped at a country store to buy groceries when they were only a few minutes from the cottage. They all went inside, and Tuula found herself hoping the children wouldn’t say anything. They usually spoke Swedish now, but of course they still had a Finnish accent. As long as the children kept quiet, no one would realize where they were from. With a bit of luck, they would be able to escape the stares and the gossip for a while. When the children started chattering away inside the store, she held her breath—but no one paid any attention to them. Tuula was ashamed of her thoughts. Who would accept them if Tuula herself didn’t stand up for her own children?
The cottage lay by a lake, surrounded by dense forest, with no close neighbors. The children ran straight down to the lake for a swim. Tuula followed with their towels, and when Nils had carried their luggage and groceries inside, he joined them with a basket containing sponge cake, coffee, and juice. When the children had finished swimming, they wrapped themselves in their towels and sat down. They munched on slices of sponge cake and giggled as the crumbs they dropped were borne away by hungry forest ants. Tuula savored her coffee, which tasted particularly good here in the shade of the tall pine trees, beside the sparkling waters of the lake, and with the rays of the sun warming her legs.
After their picnic, they went for a walk in the forest and picked blueberries and wild strawberries. That night, Tuula and Nils prepared dinner together. They enjoyed fried herring and boiled potatoes and blueberries with cream for dessert. Then they all took an evening dip.
The children fell asleep early, and Tuula and Nils sat on the veranda watching the sun go down behind the treetops on the far side of the lake. Nils fetched two glasses of cognac. They finished off the rest of the sponge cake, with whipped cream and the remaining berries.
“Do your parents know we’re here?” Tuula asked. The question had been nagging away at her. It wasn’t just the talk in the village that bothered her, but what they said—that Nils’s parents would never accept her.
Nils hesitated, then looked her in the eye. “I considered telling them that I was coming out here with friends, but I didn’t want to lie about it—about you.”
“And what did they say?”
“Mom didn’t say anything, but Dad yelled enough for both of them. But this is my grandfather’s house, which he left to me and Stig. My parents have looked after it over the years, but they have their own summer cottage. They don’t have any jurisdiction over this place, so they can’t stop me from being here.”
Tuula nodded. She appreciated his honesty, even if the answer was upsetting. “Do you and your father usually get along well?”
He nodded. “We’ve never had anything to fall out about. We generally agree about most things as far as the business is concerned.”
Never had anything to fall out about, she thought. Until now. She was overcome by a feeling of sorrow with a pang of bitterness, which took the joy out of the carefree summer evening. She knew she was the reason why Nils was at odds with his father.
As if he could read her mind, Nils put his index finger under her chin. “You’re not the problem. The problem is my father and his expectations.”
“Expectations? What does he expect of you?” Tuula just wanted to understand. She gazed at him in the golden light of the setting sun. He was wearing a white, short-sleeved polo shirt that showed off his muscular arms. He had a baker’s arms and broad shoulders, and his body was athletic—maybe thanks to the soccer. She had never seen his body properly, so to speak, but had admired him in his clothes many times.
“They had a girl in mind for me. The daughter of one of my father’s business associates.”
“So you’re ... promised to someone else?” The thought made her head spin. She couldn’t imagine him with another girl—he belonged to her. The very idea of someone else touching that firm upper body ... the soft skin at the nape of his neck ...
“No, no, absolutely not.” His dark-brown eyes almost glowed in the light. “It’s just ... My father wants me to ask her out. He’d like me to marry her to smooth the path for some of his business dealings.”
“I don’t want to get in the way,” she said quietly. The daughter of one of his father’s business associates. Of course she would be a better partner for Nils. Tuula stretched her legs.
He placed his hand on her thigh and stroked it gently. “You’re not getting in the way. I didn’t want to ask her out, and when you came into my life, it made my decision even simpler. You have to believe me when I say she is nothing to me.”
He leaned forward; she could smell his aftershave, his tanned skin. He kissed her softly, tentatively, and she responded in kind.
What was she going to do with this information? Now she knew his parents would never accept her and the children. His kiss deepened, as if to convince her, and she relaxed and pressed her body closer to his as his kisses became hungrier.
They had kissed like this before, but she had always stopped him before they took the next step. But here, with the lake and the forest as their only audience, and the cognac making her whole body feel pleasantly relaxed, she allowed herself to give in to the tingling sensation in her breast. It quickly spread down into her belly and beyond. She eagerly ran her hands over his shoulders and his arms, slipping them under his polo shirt, across his hard stomach. He kissed her neck as he continued to caress her thigh.
Eventually he pulled her to her feet and they staggered, still kissing, into the cottage and toward his bedroom. He undid a few buttons on her shirt, and then his warm hands were inside, stroking her shoulders.
She wanted this, but she couldn’t help worrying that the children might wake up.
He sensed her hesitation, stopped, and looked at her.
“Forgive me if I’m going too fast,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to do this for such a long time, but I completely understand if you’re not ready.”
“It’s not that, it’s the children. I ...” She glanced at their bedroom door.
“I get it,” he interrupted her. “You don’t need to explain.” He slowly released her, gave her a kiss on the lips, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s late, and I’m guessing Matias will want to make an early start on our fishing trip in the morning,” he said with a smile.
Tuula nodded slowly as she buttoned up her shirt.
They washed the dishes and tidied the kitchen, and then they said good night and went to their respective rooms. Tuula crawled into bed, but the silence made her feel restless. She tossed and turned, her desire for Nils pulsating through her entire body. She couldn’t just lie here. What should she do? Go for a dip in the lake to cool her burning passion? She sighed and sat up in bed. There was only one thing she wanted to do. She got up, opened the door, tiptoed along to the children’s room, and pushed the door open a fraction to check that they were both asleep. Then she headed for Nils’s bedroom.
He was standing there waiting for her. She threw herself into his arms, kicked the door shut behind her, and at long last they fell into bed together.
She pulled off his shirt and lay down on top of him. Inhaled his smell, kissed his neck. He took off her nightgown and cupped her breasts gently in his hands before he began to stroke them. She rolled onto her back, longing to have him inside her. He settled beside her, caressing her whole body.
What’s going on? she thought. Wasn’t he going to thrust himself into her? But no, he carried on stroking her slowly, every part of her, and her desire continued to build. His index finger circled her nipples, and she shuddered with pleasure, unable to contain her desire.
“I want to feel every bit of you,” he whispered. “And I want you to enjoy it.”
His hand moved to her stomach, then to her more intimate parts. He slipped a finger inside her. She whimpered. She wasn’t used to this. Juhani had been a tender lover, but it had all been over quite quickly. He had never taken his time like this, and she had never felt such pleasure.
He found the magic spot. Nils took his time, and Tuula’s pleasure grew and grew until she could no longer resist him. She pressed herself to him, kissing him and muffling a scream against his neck as the dam broke, leaving her whole body trembling.
She lay beside him, panting. “That was ...,” she gasped, unable to complete the sentence.
It wasn’t long before she wanted more. More of him .
She began to kiss him again and ran her hands over his broad chest. Caressed the nape of his neck, his curly hair. She wanted to feel all of him. Her hands moved down to his manhood. She wanted him, wanted him inside her.
“Please,” she whispered.
In the half light she saw his eyes sparkle, and those soft, full lips smiling. He rolled on top of her, kissing her as he entered her. He began to move rhythmically, and she heard herself moaning with each thrust. She pressed her hips against his, wanting him deeper inside her. He started to stroke that magic spot again, moving faster and faster as she responded. Then he let out a groan and gasped. She felt him grow inside her, and her pleasure spilled over again. Two more hard thrusts, and then he collapsed on top of her.
She would never be able to make love with another man. Not as long as Nils Eklund existed.
The days they spent at the cottage were like a long, blissful dream. The sun never stopped shining, they swam in the mornings, had lunch on the terrace, and in the afternoons they went for walks in the forest or Nils took the children fishing. They cooked and baked together. Tried out new recipes for bread and buns. Ate Tuula’s Tasty Bread for breakfast with butter and thick slices of cheese, made sandwiches with it for afternoon picnics. She didn’t want to return to Almtorp, and felt a pang of anxiety whenever she thought about the village. She worried the hatred toward the Finns would escalate when she was back.
On their last afternoon, Tuula had just put a batch of rolls in the oven and was standing on the terrace. Nils and the children were down on the jetty catching roach. She listened to the sound of a woodpecker hammering on a nearby tree as the smell of the bread reached her nostrils. She felt a strange sense of calm. Happiness, maybe? Perhaps she could begin to leave all her past difficulties behind her. Being here in this cottage with Nils and the children, it was as if she had become a different person, not the Tuula who was constantly thinking about the war, who lay awake at night thinking about her hometown and the house she had left behind. Her friends. Her mother and father. And Juhani, dead in a trench.
Here she was Tuula who had brought a pile of novels on vacation with her. Tuula who worked as a baker, swam in a lake, and spent her free time coming up with new recipes for cookies, buns, and bread. Tuula who weeded the flower beds around the cottage and packed picnic baskets for afternoon outings. Tuula who was in love.
Because it was true. She was in love with Nils. Everything was so easy, so carefree with him. He enjoyed beautiful sunsets, excellent dinners at the Stadshotell, a fun soccer match. And it allowed her to forget the war. Nils’s main aim in life seemed to be to make her happy. He wasn’t carrying any hidden trauma, he made her feel safe, and for the first time in several years, she was happy.