The Winter War Read Free Page B

promptly filled.
    An hour later they were sitting in a taxi, speaking to each other for the first time since the argument they’d had before leaving home.
    â€˜Can you explain to me why we spend any time with those people?’ said Max.
    Katriina was staring straight ahead. She was drunk – tonight maybe more than usual – and at first Max wondered whether she’d even heard what he said.
    After a moment she told him, ‘Because people spend time with each other, Max. It’s perfectly normal.’
    She sounded tired and resigned. Max should have stopped there, but he couldn’t resist. He’d had a whisky with Stefan and was feeling rowdy.
    â€˜Sure, but I’m talking about those specific people. We have nothing in common with them. Okay, maybe with Risto and Tuula, but not all the others … Take Stefan, for example. I swear, if he starts telling me one more time about some fucking peninsula off Borneo, I’m going to strangle him. Do you know what he said to me tonight? That I should start doing yoga so I’d have a better sex life.’
    Katriina giggled.
    â€˜For a man who spends his time researching the subject, you’re surprisingly sceptical about everything that has to do with sex,’ she said, putting her hand between his legs.
    Max glanced at the cab driver, wondering if he’d noticed. The driver was in his forties. He’s probably been driving in Helsinki long enough to have seen just about everything, thought Max. Then he tried looking at himself and Katriina from the driver’s perspective: yet another unhappy, spoiled, middle-aged couple who hate each other and start bickering the moment they get in the cab.
    â€˜Why do people have such a hard time understanding that my research has nothing to do with sex? I only published one study on it, and that was almost twenty years ago.’
    â€˜A study that set the course for your whole career. You really should be more grateful,’ said Katriina.
    â€˜I’m just saying that this is the last time I’m going to one of these dinner parties,’ he told her, without much conviction. He knew it wasn’t true. In a couple of weeks they’d probably be on their way home in a cab once again, having attended yet another party at the home of some friends.
    For a moment neither of them spoke. Suddenly Katriina asked her husband: ‘Do you know if Eva has a boyfriend?’
    Max was staring out of the window. ‘How should I know?’
    â€˜It’s just that I’m worried about her.’
    Max laughed.
    â€˜Why are you laughing?’
    â€˜Because she said the very same thing about you.’
    â€˜About me?’
    â€˜Yes, she said she was worried about you. “Dad, I think Mum is depressed.” Why do you have to tell her all your troubles? Why does she need to hear about your problems?’
    â€˜I don’t tell her my problems!’
    â€˜So explain to me, why is it that you’re depressed?’
    â€˜Just because I like to phone my children, it doesn’t have to be something pathological. When did you talk to her?’
    â€˜I don’t know. Day before yesterday.’
    â€˜She called you?’
    â€˜Called me? Yes, she did.’
    He knew this was going to upset Katriina. Eva never called her. But that wasn’t so strange, since she knew that her mother would phone sooner or later.
    They didn’t speak for the rest of the taxi ride. But once they got home and were brushing their teeth, Max went over to Katriina to explain things further. He hated not being allowed to make his point. She would simply fall silent and go and hide in the bathroom. But she pushed him away.
    â€˜I don’t want to hear it. I’m tired and I’m going to bed.’
    For an hour he sat on the living-room sofa in the dark, looking out at the rain. He poured himself a whisky, and then another, and when he’d finished his second drink he got up to