Never Turn Back (3 page)

The trek from the train station to Tuula’s apartment was between four and five kilometers. Meri discovered this when she stopped at a market to buy a map of her new city.

Adjacent to the market was a café. Meri’s stomach rumbled as she smelled the familiar scent of strong coffee mingled with a scrumptious aroma she had never experienced. Parisian bread. The delicate and buttery aroma saturated the air. Meri sat down to her first Parisian meal of a fresh baguette, Camembert cheese with various fruit preserves, and several cups of the richest coffee she had ever tasted.

She savored the French bread, worlds different from the dry, dense, dark breads of Finland.
This bread is light and refined. This is exactly what I imagined Paris to be—full of light and life. The opposite of Finland.
She raised her coffee cup in a toast to her new home. “To Paris! To your bread and your cheese and to your people who will offer me a new life!
Skål!
”

Meri sipped the last bit of her coffee and finished every crumb of the baguette. She wrapped up the small wedge of Camembert she hadn’t eaten, and paid her bill with the Francs she had exchanged for her Finn
Markkas
at a currency booth near the train station. With her new, crisp map in one hand and her old soft satchel in the other, she started walking the unfamiliar streets of Paris with a spring in her step, heading toward Tuula’s apartment.

Along the way, she experienced a lifetime’s worth of sights and sounds. Women in bright outfits, some of them quite risqué by Meri’s standards, held the arms of fancy-dressed men, not at all like the drab men of Finland—men like Arttu. These couples laughed and touched each other in public. Meri also noticed giggling children running around in parks and on the streets, often having to dodge loud horse-less carriages, whose occupants used their unnerving horns liberally. Music filled the air. Tunes came from the open windows of homes and eateries and musicians performing on the streets. Flowers embellished nearly everything in view—the private and public gardens she passed, table tops on sidewalk cafés, in the bags people carried, even as adornments on the people she encountered:  girls, women, and even on the lapels of some men.

Not everyone laughed or had flowers in their hair. Meri walked by poor and disabled people, too. But she squelched those images; she wanted to see only the sparkling, opulent, promising Paris—the prosperous city where her dreams would come true.

Although Meri had plenty of time to think about how she should introduce herself to Tuula, a stranger to her, she was not prepared to meet her. Meri stood outside
Rue
6 Grenata for a long time, long enough for passersby to ask her if she was lost or if she needed help. Most of them spoke French with a distinctly Finnish accent, so she knew responding in Finn would be understood.

Meri shook her head. “I’m supposed to meet someone here. I’m waiting for her.” Meri smiled and that seemed to be enough. She was a Finn among Finns in France.

Kaija’s note said Tuula expected me to come. How can she know when I will arrive? What if she isn’t prepared for me, then what will I do? How will we recognize each other? What if she’s not here? Oh, Kaija! Why did you have to complicate things for me by getting pregnant?

Meri had to make a decision. She either had to leave or go up to the Apartment 3C.
Rue
6 Grenata was part of an old and wilted neighborhood.
This is not the cheerful Paris I saw a little while ago. Maybe I should go back to one of those nicer areas…but where?  No one knows me in those more pleasant places. Someone is expecting me here…I hope.

After knocking on the door several times, a little boy came up to her and said in Finnish, “You don’t need to knock. It’s an apartment building. Just go up.”

“Oh,
Kiitos
.” Meri thanked him in Finnish as she blushed and opened the door.

She walked up two flights of stairs and found the door marked 3C. Meri tentatively knocked. The door rattled, as if it would open on its own if she knocked much harder.

The door finally opened just enough for a young girl to poke her head out. She was younger than Jani—perhaps seven—with thick, light brown, curly hair and blue eyes. “
Hei
,” she said with hesitation on her face and in her voice.

“
Hei. Nimeni on Meri.
” Meri introduced herself in her native tongue.

“Oh.” The little girl seemed unimpressed.

“Is Tuula here?”

“No.”

Kaija, I wish you were here so I could kill you!
Meri sighed and explained her situation to the little girl.

“Oh.”

“What’s your name?” Meri asked, hoping to get more than a one word reply.

“Elina.”

“Did Tuula tell you about her cousin, Kaija?”

She nodded. “I know Kaija! Is Kaija coming?” Elina spoke perfect Finn. The door opened so Meri could see half of Elina. She was a lanky girl, her thick, curly hair the biggest thing about her.

“No, she stayed in Raisio, but I came. Did Tuula tell you about Meri?”

“Hmmm. Maybe.”

“I’m Meri.” Meri searched her bag for Kaija’s letter, hoping Elina could read enough to see she was telling the truth.

“What’s going on here? Elina, I told you not to open the door to strangers!” A woman’s voice interrupted Meri’s search. The voice was low-pitched. Ominous.

Both Meri and Elina started talking at the same time. Their voices had taken on an annoying high pitch.

“Stop! Please! One at a time.” The woman looked at Meri. “Now, tell me, who are you and why are you at my door?”

“I’m Meri, Kajia’s friend. Do you know Tuula?” Meri, blushing, began searching for Kaija’s letter again.

The woman laughed. “
Juu
! I know Tuula, don’t I, Elina.”

“
Juu,
Mamma” Elina smiled a tentative smile, seemingly confused.

Frustrated at being the only one left out of the secret, Meri sighed as she spoke to the woman now standing beside her. “I’m looking for Tuula. Kaija is my friend and she sent me here. Can you tell me how to find Tuula?”

“I can. You found her,” Tuula said as she hugged Meri, which took Meri by surprise. “Now, please come in, Meri. We’ve been expecting you. I must write Kaija immediately to tell her you’re finally here. She’ll be so relieved.”

Elina opened the door. Tuula gestured to Meri to enter before her.

Meri had found her first, albeit temporary, home in Paris.

§

Apartment 3C was both tidy and tiny. Meri noticed the oddest mixture of a sweet fragrance mingled with a musty smell. She decided it was a rather cheap women’s perfume and the tell-tale odor of old curtains, bedding, and upholstered furniture.
This apartment needs open windows and fresh air. Do cities have fresh air?

“Our home is small, but you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like,” Tuula said as she placed a small bag filled with groceries on the round table that separated the living area from the functional but cramped kitchenette. Except for a modest glass vase filled with drooping lilies, the table was clear. A lace doily protected the wooden table top from the vase.

Tuula noticed Meri staring at the lace doily. “Do you like the lace?”

“
Juu,
very much. I do fine lace work. My Grandmamma taught me.”

Smiling, Tuula said, “Me too, but this is Elina’s work. I don’t want our Finnish craft to die, even if people here don’t appreciate our skills.”

“What do you mean?” Meri still held her satchel and had not yet taken off her coat. “This is the city of high fashion. Lace work must be highly valued!”

“Not if you’re a foreigner.” Tuula had turned her attention to putting away her groceries, so she did not notice Meri’s face, which had paled considerably.

“I don’t understand, Tuula.” Only Meri’s nostrils and chest moved to her increasingly heavy, fretful breaths. Standing there in her coat and holding her bag, it was hard to tell if she had just arrived or if she was just leaving.

Tuula turned around. “Oh, Meri! Please, let me take your things. You’ve had a long journey. We’ll have plenty of time for talking. Now it’s time for resting.” Meri let Tuula take her coat and satchel. Tuula instructed Elina to hang up Meri’s coat and escort Meri to Elina’s room.

“Please, Tuula, explain to me what you mean about foreigners.” Her brows furrowed and her voice trembled as she spoke.

“Don’t worry, Meri. I’m sure everything will be fine. You’ll find work. It’s just that Parisians like to give the best jobs to their own. You never know, though. In Paris, anything can happen! I didn’t mean to worry you in your first moments with us.” Tuula smiled. “Okay? Let’s worry about more important things for now…like where you’ll sleep. Elina’s giving you her room.”

Elina nodded, her smile stretching the width of her narrow face.

“But where will you sleep?” Meri asked Elina.

“I get to sleep with Mamma!” She spoke as if the new sleeping arrangement was a big adventure for her.

“And what about your Papa?”

Elina shrugged. “Papa is gone.”

Meri did not ask any more questions.
An absent father is tender territory for two people who have just met.
Meri simply said, “Oh.”

The apartment had two small bedrooms, a modest living room with the round table and four chairs plus a small formal settee and a miniscule kitchen equipped with a sink, gas stove, and an icebox. The “private facilities” were down the hallway, shared with apartments 3A and 3B.

“It’s not so bad,” Tuula said. We use the kitchen sink to wash our hair and other ‘essentials.’ See the container over there?” She pointed to a covered metal pot. “That’s for, ah, emergencies.”

Meri eyes widened.
This isn’t what I expected in the grand city of Paris!
But she kept this thought to herself. “I see.” Meri’s stiff words matched her posture.

Tuula laughed. “Meri, I can see this isn’t what you, ah, envisioned, coming from little Raisio to the big city of Paris. It’s not what I thought, either. You’ll get used to it, or you can always go back.”

“I’ll never go back!” Meri’s response was more forceful than any of them expected, even Meri. Meri blushed and spoke to her shoes. “I said my final farewells to my family and to Finland. Turning back is not an option. I’m sorry. I’m tired from my long days of travel.”

Tuula nodded. “Elina, take Meri into her room and help get her settled. Then show her down the hall to the washroom. Maybe then Meri can rest until dinner is ready?” Tuula looked at her daughter and her new roommate.

Elina and Meri shared a brief glance—a look that said
there’s no use in arguing
—and left Tuula to her work in the tiny kitchen.

In about an hour, Meri smelled garlic, onions, and other savory smells masking the odd odor she detected upon entering the apartment for the first time.
Tuula is a good cook! Perhaps she knows people in the fashion industry, too…

Meri came into the living area. Elina played quietly while Tuula finished setting the table for a late supper. “Your timing is perfect,” Tuula said.

“Your cooking smells perfect. I couldn’t stay away any longer. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Tuula waved her hand and shook her head. “No, just sit and relax. You should rest after such a long trip.”

Meri smiled and sat down on the chair Tuula indicated. “I had a thought as I was lying down. Do you know of anyone in the fashion district?”

Tuula rolled her eyes and sighed. “Didn’t Kaija tell you what to expect? I told you, Paris is not welcoming to foreigners.” Before giving Meri a chance to answer, Tuula ordered Elina to help get the food into serving dishes.

“When they see my fine needlework, I’m certain they’ll appreciate my talents no matter where I come from.” Meri smoothed her dress over her lap. Her stomach rumbled with hunger.

“Think what you like. I live here. I know Paris.” Tuula sat down abruptly.

“You don’t know me, Tuula. I’m not just any foreigner, so don’t treat me like one!” Meri put her hands on her hips and stared at Tuula.

Tuula raised one eyebrow and said in a low, calculated voice, “I don’t let anyone speak to me with that tone, especially in my home, do you understand, Meri?”

Meri shifted her gaze to the tired lilies at the center of the table. “I
am
determined, Tuula. My Mamma called me stubborn. I didn’t mean to upset or disrespect you. You’re kind to offer your home to a complete stranger. I should act more grateful. Please don’t be angry with me on my first night here. I’ll clean up after dinner to make things up to you.”

“No, not tonight. Tonight, you’re our guest. Tomorrow we’ll discuss the terms of your stay here.”