best position for the aerial.
‘You even watch the juniors playing?’ asked Pekka somewhere in the background.
‘We won’t ever really be up with the best if we don’t have promising youngsters coming through,’ replied Arvi.
The picture wasn’t particularly good, but it would just about do.
‘You might get yourselves a new set some time,’ said Arvi. ‘This one’s out of the Ark.’
‘We don’t really watch TV much here … and look, it’s okay,’ said Korvensuo, pointing to the screen. Sure enough, the picture was clearer now and the Finns had possession of the ball.
Korvensuo turned away and looked at the lake. The girls were standing in the evening sunlight, jostling one another about until Laura, screeching, fell into the water. Aku had put his clothes on again now and came running towards them shouting that he wanted ice cream.
‘Coming in a moment,’ called Marjatta.
Korvensuo sat down and let Arvi’s ramblings about the Finnish team lull him almost to sleep. From time to time Pekka added a comment. The game on the screen was soporific too, and the warmth of the evening enveloped him like a blanket. Now and then his eyes closed.
Marjatta brought out ice cream, the children chattered to each other and reached for the dishes that she was handing them. The sun had gone down now, but he almost felt the air was getting warmer and warmer. He saw a newsreader on the screen. He was about to ask Arvi whether the game was over or if this was half-time, but Marjatta asked him a question that he heard only indistinctly, because he was looking at something that had caught his attention.
‘What?’
‘I asked if you’d like ice cream too, or what little they’ve left,’ Marjatta repeated, holding the dish in front of his face, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the picture he was looking at, the picture that … And the girls were chattering away all round him, and Aku had started to cry.
‘I’ll just go and get another pack out of the fridge, then everyone will be happy including our little Aku,’ he heard Marjatta say, and he realized that he had risen to his feet and was on the move. ‘What’s going on there?’ he asked Arvi as he went past, but Arvi, deep in animated discussion with Pekka, didn’t hear him.
Aku had stopped crying.
‘I want some more ice cream too,’ said Laura.
Korvensuo knelt down in front of the TV, never taking his eyes off the screen, and tried to concentrate on the words coming out of the set. He groped for the volume button.
‘Anything special?’ he heard Marjatta ask. She was standing right behind his back as he carefully turned up the sound.
Marjatta put a hand on his shoulder.
He listened to the newsreader’s matter-of-fact voice.
‘Tum it up a bit louder, sounds like something’s happened,’ said Arvi.
There was a bicycle on the screen. A field. A field in the sunlight. Korvensuo made out a cross beside the bicycle. A cross standing just outside the field, and beyond it, in the field itself, was a bicycle. The bicycle lay there in the sun. The newsreader’s voice spoke of the cross and a similar case that was now thirty-three years in the past. A girl’s photograph came up on screen. The voice gave her name and age, and said the girl had been murdered thirty-three years ago.
‘How awful,’ he heard Johanna saying and then he saw a red car on the screen, not a photograph but a drawing of a small red car. He sat up abruptly. Something was trickling through his body. A warm feeling. Dry. Like sand. He moved past the others and back to the chair where he had been sitting, The rest of them were standing around the TV set talking, but he heard only Arvi’s voice as the dry, warm sand trickled through his body.
‘You wonder what kind of bastard would do a thing like that again,’ said Arvi. And when no one replied he added, ‘Enough to stop anyone wanting to have children.’
After that no one said anything for a while. The children were