The Rain Circle, page 9
It is early evening in the Aalto household. Miro admires his wife sitting by their bedroom mirror applying lipstick and putting on earrings, although she has natural beauty that needs no enhancement by cosmetics or adornment. She sees the man standing behind her, all spruced up in his best shirt and jacket, and wishes him well for his boys’ night out. Should be fun, she smirks cheekily. From the adjacent room shared by their youngest girls they hear Emilia telling Venla she must not go to the concert looking like a schoolgirl. Emilia presents her best dress to her sister and says they are now about the same size, so try it on. It is a perfect fit, perhaps only for the waist being a bit too loose but this can be pinned in without anyone noticing. Venla excitedly enters her parents’ room and tells them to take a look.
‘Beautiful,’ Susanna and Miro say together.
‘Beautiful,’ Susanna repeats. ‘Your sister is very kind. Hey, you must tell me what’s in store for us tonight.’
‘Apart from the usual you’d expect from Sibelius like Finlandia and the violin concerto Maria Laakonen stars in, I think they’ll perform the Jaeger March and that one composed for university ceremonies. There’s a lot they can choose from. But I really don’t know, I’ve never been to a big concert like this. It will all be in the program, although I won’t need one. I know they’re always very expensive.’
‘Of course I’ll buy one for you. It will be a nice memory of your birthday,’
The evening weather is mild, so Miro chooses to walk to the hotel. He meets Edvard in the foyer and expresses genuine concern for how Maria is standing up with the demands of a concert on top of everything. Edvard’s normally stony face warms and he gives one of those satisfied grins where muscles tighten up each side of the face and the look in his eyes says he has probably been able to prepare her well.
‘I told her to remember when her older brother died two years ago, and she was the best placed person to deliver the eulogy,’ Edvards says. ‘I reminded her of how well she did even though she, more than anyone, was overwhelmed with grief. We talked about how, in respect of her brother, everyone must hear with clarity every word. Just as she had the honour to do something important at her brother’s funeral, she now has the honour to pay tribute to Sibelius. For just a short time to be the instrument delivering what people must hear, I said. Recall just before the funeral how I told you Collapse in sadness before and after if you will, but do your job of eulogist well for the sake of mourners and the sake of your brother. Now, when you perform tonight, especially when you first put that violin against your cheek, remember, it is your time to shine as the vehicle delivering something for an audience. And I joked that this audience, unlike those at a funeral, have paid to see her perform. She smiled a little at this comment, so I think my advice will be taken and we can only hope it works.’
‘Oh, I believe it will,’ Miro says reassuringly, steering Edvard towards the hotel bar and thinking he’s never heard the man say so much.
Sitting on stools at the bar, it is obvious to Miro that Edvard is unused to the setting and asks if he prefers a table, but his companion wants to do what is normal for locals. He is also happy for Miro to decide the choice of beer, which turns out to be Koff lager from the tap. The barman, a stern-looking balding man in a white shirt buttoned to the top, nods when Miro finishes his beer, and gets another for him. Edvard has yet to take a second sip although he is enjoying light conversation about what happens in Lahti on weekends and how the economy is faring. When asked about university funding, Edvard takes the chance to say it is scarce and this is why he is surprised at Miro’s mention on the phone that Christian has a job waiting for him at the University of Helsinki, offered by Professor Niemenen.
‘This is unusual because there has been a reduction in government funding and there’s a freeze on appointments,’ Edvard explains. ‘Very few positions that are vacated are filled. So it’s all very grim. Good on Christian if he’s been offered something but it seems unlikely and of course it doesn’t add up that he hasn’t told us.’
‘He hasn’t told you?
‘No. And nor has Professor Niemenen, who I often see in the staff dining room, said anything about offering work for my son. I’ll quiz Niemenen about it on Monday.’
~~~~
Back in Helsinki on Monday the professor is caught off guard when told by Edvard that Christian’s partner Inka believes an academic post has been offered. The excuse of a pressing appointment puts the conversation on hold, with the promise of returning to the question later in the day. It enables a call to be made to Christian to clarify what has been said to Inka. Although it is accepted that the young scientist only used the job story as a means of giving his partner a reason for phone contact with his former university supervisor, there is a lingering worry that the Laakkonens may unwittingly or otherwise disrupt the grand plan. This leads to a call seeking professional advice from the university’s communication director Wilma Jensen, who has been a member of the planning committee for the past year.
Professor Niemenen, with spectacles sitting half way down her long crooked nose, looks every bit a banking executive rather than a science professor in her light grey suit, Italian shirt and pastel blue tie. She has her arms behind her back with hands gently clasped and is looking out her window when there is a tap on the door. Without turning, Wilma Jensen is invited in and sits on one of the office’s leather chairs, with a pad and pencil on her lap.
I’ve dragged you and many others into this, haven’t I?’ the professor slowly remarks, observing students crossing the quadrangle in every direction as they saunter to lectures. ‘This university is like a home and family to me, yet I may be pulling its reputation down. Today I felt like such a deceitful beast, keeping the truth from an academic colleague.’
‘I don’t feel dragged into anything,’ Wilma offers. ‘When it’s over I want to retire anyway. This grey hair isn’t from dye you know. I’m past 60 and ready to relax.’
‘Well that’s no good,’ the professor interrupts. ‘I don’t want you to relax, I want you to help write my book. We’ll need some means of meeting the cost of litigation!’
Although the last part of her comment is made in jest it comes from awareness of the real possibility of legal action when protocols and rules are not followed.
Immediate considerations, however, are whether much will be made by the media of Christian Laakkonen’s role in the project and whether he can be persuaded to be open and honest with his partner and parents right now, to placate them.
‘Let us deal with the last bit first,’ Wilma suggests. ‘You know him far better than I do, so do you think he can be persuaded?’
‘I doubt it really,’ the professor answers. ‘He is steadfast in his wish to remain hidden if he can and he has always feared that his mother, in particular, will put him above the interests of the project. For instance, in a conversation last year he told me he could imagine his mother taking action to remove him from any perceived danger ahead of the test.’
‘Okay, so let’s go back to the first part of your question,’ Wilma says quickly. ‘My professional judgment is that if we put the most positive spin we can on the rainmaking event in Australia there will be a phase when everyone will just take what they are given without question. Initially we will be the providers of the information to major news organisations and social networks. The fourth estate is generally lazy, we know that. Not gatherers of information but receivers and disseminators. No-one will bother about whose scientific paper led to the exercise. This may only happen in phase two when a small minority in the media sector, the investigative journalists, decide to delve into the detail. And by this time there will be other news events, perhaps another terrorism atrocity, God forbid, that will take over the front-running in the media. So I’d be able to put a good case to Christian that he should be open with his family and simply ask for confidentiality until the rainmaking project in Australia is completed.’
‘I think it should be me who calls him,’ the professor remarks, undertaking to present what Wilma has outlined. ‘He may change his mind but he is so risk-averse that I’ll probably end up having to lie to his father and say there has been some confusion. Of course we know there are no academic positions open, I’ll tell him, but there is hope that something can be offered in the future. Maybe Christian is right anyway. Perhaps it is his insight and thoroughness that have made him a good scientist in the first place. If not an academic position after all this, there will surely be research opportunities.’
Wilma is asked about progress with media material and is reminded that some of the best images will be collected by drones on the day of the event, showing formation of clouds that bring rain to thirsty crops in Australia’s cereal belt. Meanwhile, media packs are being prepared with information on global warming and the environmental, social and economic potential of new rainmaking technology. They also have clips from supporters around the world endorsing the technology, including a piece from respected Australian graingrower Brian Ellson.
‘Oh I’d like to see the Ellson clip,’ Professor Neimenen says excitedly.
A program is opened on the professor’s screen and the clip in question is found by Wilma after skipping across folders containing graphics explaining the technology, proposals for commercialisation, and lists of sites around the globe where rainmaking systems are suited. Vision appears of Brian Ellson standing knee-deep in a dense green crop. As he begins to speak, Brian twists off an ear of wheat and holds it out a little to emphasise that this is the focus. Food.
‘We’ve been graingrowers for more than thirty years and like thousands of other food producers in the nation my family has lived with not knowing how much rain we’ll get, or when. Just imagine if we have rain almost made to order. The right amount at the right time. We’d have better weed control, early sowing, lasting subsoil moisture and great crops. Applying the rainmaking model that has been explained to me will mean I not only have protection against climate change, I will be able to double my normal yields or do even better. And this means more food for a hungry world. And while it is not my domain, I believe that the ability to fill water catchments that supply irrigated agriculture and city water supplies will further secure our future. Let’s embrace science and do what we should do for generations to come.’
The professor claps her hands with delight but the pleasure on her face fades when she takes a call from a collaborator in St Petersburg informing her that there will be a problem getting engineers to the project site in South Australia any time in August. News has just come through that monthly quotas on fossil fuel use will be revised downwards for several countries that have exceeded their limits in the current month and this affects, in particular, long haul flights. Keeping below agreed levels in August is the only way key personnel will be able to travel in September, which remains within the project’s window of opportunity. It is an interruption not welcome, as it means changing plans for a large number of people, including Bernadette O’Reilly.
Exasperation comes from knowing fossil fuel quotas are only in place because most countries did not have enough commitment to emission-reduction targets starting 40 years ago. It has only been a series of critical food shortages that has led to international agreements that toughen up on the causes of global warming. The professor is pleased there are restrictions on fossil fuels, of course, but is unhappy about the inconvenience caused at this important time. And she is annoyed that nuclear power is not acceptable for aircraft crossing certain state borders and that long flights like those to Australia are targeted when countries have to meet quotas.
As expected, Christian is unwilling to change his ways but says he will tell his parents that he is happy and well and enjoying some freedom in Australia. He will also follow the line that there has been no job offer, just a hope that one may be made in a year or so.
~~~~
Knowing Susanna and Miro Aalto will be in Helsinki at the end of the week, and wanting to report on his contact with Professor Niemenen, Edvard Laakkonen has invited them to Friday afternoon tea in his university office. He meets them in the foyer and escorts them to his office. Maria is there, standing by the window, anxious for any news of her son. The visitors from Lahti are not used to such opulence as they survey the medley of antique chairs. Aromas of polished timber and brewing coffee fill the air.
Maria lifts the lid of a cardboard box she has been holding to reveal pulla buns. It is a kind of connection with her son that extends hospitality.
‘Ah, Christian’s favourite and from the Franz bakery I assume?’ Miro asks.
‘Of course,’ Maria says with a look that means she is pleased with having done something special. ‘Oona Franz says she is glad I didn’t want fruit buns. Says dried fruit is extremely scarce and climate change is to blame. What nonsense she can speak.’
No-one is game enough to say Oona may be right. There is a long pause from small talk while coffee is poured, then the time arrives to discuss their children. Suddenly Susanna and Maria start to speak at the same time then apologise to each other for interrupting. It is a fumble with a uniting element. Maria says she was about to say they had finally heard from Christian who says he is just enjoying his immersion in Australia and apparently there was simply a mix up in understanding about the job offer.
Edvard does not look so convinced, feeling that both Christian and Professor Niemenen have been evasive. He offers the possibility that the parting of their children, even if temporary and harmonious, may have caused a level of sadness and uncertainty for both of them. This brings a rebuke from Maria who says that of course people can go into their shell when a separation occurs but this is nothing serious. Let him be for a while, that’s all we can do, and just look forward to him coming home for Christmas.
Omission by Maria of any mention of Inka, let alone any concern for her, is not lost on the others.
Miro does not say a word but reminds himself that it is unlikely Inka is confused about the job offer because she rarely gets things wrong. While the others are talking, his thoughts drift back to the conversation with Inka when she was in Maningrida. At the time, Susanna said their daughter’s voice was filled with sadness and loneliness. The words were bright and positive but the tone was not.
When a second round of coffee is poured, Edvard asks Miro about progress with restoration of the old church in Lahti, while Susanna congratulates Maria on the Sibelius concert, saying she enjoyed it very much, as did Venla.
‘And I am so sorry about Venla’s lack of manners,’ Susanna says with a frown, as she leans forward towards Maria. ‘We are a family of huggers. She should not have tried to give you a congratulatory hug after the concert. It was inappropriate and she’s been told so.’
‘Oh, I hope I did not offend her - and it is me who did not behave properly in Lahti,’ Maria answers with rare humility. ‘No excuses. First I was rude to your husband at the church then I didn’t behave properly with your daughter. I should not have rejected a hug and I should have asked if she enjoyed the concert. She must think I’m such a snob.’
Susanna says her husband quickly gets over these things and as for Venla, she will not have thought badly and in any case her mind is occupied with preparation for the music scholarship exam.
‘I will send her a card to wish her well in the examination,’ Maria offers. ‘Old-fashioned, I know, but there is something more meaningful about a hand-written note on a card, don’t you agree? These social media cards as they call them aren’t cards at all. Everything’s just so instant and impersonal these days.’
‘Oh, I do agree. Most certainly. She’ll love that encouragement. Thank you.’
~~~~
Driving home to Lahti that night the Aaltos talk about how nice it would be to be able to comfort Inka and help her through this difficult time. Susanna says she has thought about going to Australia to give their daughter support but she has a part-time job, the travel is expensive, and flights are restricted anyway.
‘You should go. We can get enough money together Susanna, don’t worry about that,’ Miro says encouragingly. ‘Surely someone can take your place for a while in the shop and as for the flight we can book straight away for September.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
Miro is going about his business a few days later when Jaako and Suvi return from showering at the YMCA and announce they will no longer have to walk very far to the bathroom. They have been offered a room that is part of the YMCA complex and it will be rent-free in return for some after-hours cleaning duties. A big smile comes over Miro’s face as he shares their joy. He is asked how the trip to Helsinki went and he tells them Susanna did some shopping and he was able to sign some building regulation documents at the Department of Planning.
‘No, we mean how your meeting went with your daughter’s in-laws,’ Jaako says.
‘Not exactly in-laws but, yes, we had our get-together. Over pulla buns and coffee. Best pulla bun I’ve ever eaten. And I think Susanna and Maria built a bridge, so to speak. As for Edvard, I think we’ve always had a connection of sorts even though we are different types of people, and I don’t dare poke the bear with Maria. But I believe we are getting along a whole lot better.’
‘You don’t sound that positive about it.’
‘Mm, there are just some things that don’t seem right. I mean I can’t understand why Inka and Christian parted in the first place and now it is claimed Inka made a mistake about the job offer.’
