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The players celebrated and Arvi said, ‘That’s how these stupid games always go. Three minutes before the final whistle.’
    ‘What’s the score?’ That was his own voice. ‘What’s the score now?’
    ‘One-all. I can see you’ve been concentrating!’ said Arvi.
    ‘That’s okay, then,’ said Korvensuo.
    ‘How do you mean, that’s okay? It’s not good enough. When it comes to the crunch that’ll only get them third or fourth place in the group.’
    The children were laughing down on the landing stage. To his right, Marjatta and Johanna now seemed to be talking about the murdered girl. Yes, they were saying how scared it made them feel. Korvensuo raised his cup to his mouth again and ate a chocolate biscuit. A player was being interviewed on the TV screen.
    ‘Do you know …’ Korvensuo began again.
    ‘What?’ asked Arvi.
    ‘How many matches are there still to go?’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘Well, how many games in the qualifying period? For the A team.’
    ‘No idea. Three, is it?’
    ‘Five,’ said Pekka.
    ‘But they still won’t make it,’ Arvi opined.
    Korvensuo nodded to himself and concentrated on the children’s laughter as they played cards on the landing stage. The flickering in front of his eyes was wearing off now, but sand was trickling through his body again, a slight but steady sensation. Arvi switched off the TV Marjatta picked up the empty coffee jug.
    ‘Let me do that,’ said Korvensuo. He had risen quickly and was fighting off mild nausea as he went into the house. In the kitchen he switched on the coffee machine and watched coffee dripping into the jug. He’d have to sort out his mind later. When their guests had gone. When Marjatta and the children were asleep. He would think certain things over then, perfectly calmly.
    Through the window he saw Arvi walking down the slope. He probably wanted to use the sauna again. Johanna and Marjatta were deep in lively but relaxed conversation, certainly no longer about what they’d seen on the news. Pekka was leaning back slightly with his face turned up to the sky. Korvensuo took the coffee jug and went outside.
    ‘Anything else? We have chilled drinks too. Lemonade, anyone?’ he asked when he had reached the table.
    ‘Sounds good,’ said Pekka.
    He went back into the house, into the kitchen, and took a bottle of lemonade out of the fridge. It felt cold in his hand, and in his head a vein burst. Or that was what it felt like. A hot sensation spreading from his forehead over his cheeks and down into his body.
    He went back out and handed Pekka the bottle. Pekka thanked him. Korvensuo nodded. He too felt thirsty. He went back into the house and helped himself to a lemonade from the fridge. He drank greedily, draining it in a single draught, then he felt himself swinging back his arm and bringing the bottle down on the sink with all his might. The bottle shattered in his hand. Through the window he saw them all jumping up outside.
    ‘It’s all right! I’ll clear it up. I just dropped a bottle,’ he called.
    Marjatta was running to the house.
    ‘It’s all right,’ he repeated when she reached the doorway. He turned his back to her and felt about in the cupboard for a dustpan and brush. ‘It won’t take me a moment to sweep it up. It’s all right.’
    ‘Do be careful with the broken glass,’ warned Marjatta.
    Korvensuo nodded. ‘No problem,’ he said.
    Most of the shards were in the sink. A few were clinging to his T-shirt and his arms. A little blood was flowing from one finger, but it was only a scratch. He stopped the blood with a handkerchief and tipped the broken glass into a bin bag.
    He looked through the window. Outside, Arvi was running out of the sauna and down to the lake where, to the children’s great amusement, he jumped into the water stark naked.
    3
    T he lake lay calm and still in bright daylight, although it was nearly eleven p.m.
    Nights of no night, Sanna always used to call them, adding that these