Somewhere Else

Chapter 16: Forward Motion

I run my finger over the windowsill – it comes back mostly clean, which is a good sign – and look out through the glass pane. I see some trees in a park below, now starting to shed their new orange-and-red coats, and the apartment block from across the street.

It's a little reminiscent of the view from Aksel's apartment. If not for that reminder, this apartment would be perfect.

I turn back to the girl who is about to become my landlord. "I think it'll do," I say. "I saw on the website that the rent is..."

I trail off, letting her fill in my implied blank. She does, naming a figure that I've already calculated. With the loans I've gotten from Mama and Papa, coveting the rent wouldn't be much of a problem. And if the tutoring job comes through, I might be able to pay them back sooner than I expected.

I expected to be able to complete the transaction right away, but it turns out that things aren't that easy. The contract I have to sign is in Finnish. The landlord is sheepish as she tells me this.

"But you could get a lawyer to read it over for you," she adds quickly. "We can meet again this weekend to sign it."

A lawyer? I must have blanched at the implied cost, because she adds, "Or someone you trust who knows Finnish."

The first person who comes to mind isn't Priscilla, but she's a close second.

"Is it okay if I make a phone call?"

"Sure! Take your time."

I wander to a corner of the room, phone in hand.

"I'd love to help," Priscilla says, "but honestly, I don't think my Finnish is good enough to understand all the legal jargon."

"Shit," I mutter. The only other option is...

"What about Elina?" Priscilla suggests.

I hum as a response. "I don't know her well enough," I hedge, "to ask her for a favour like that."

"Think about it," urges Priscilla. "I'm sure she'll be glad to help."

As I walk back to speak with my future landlord, I let my mind shift back to the first name that had popped up in my mind the moment she said 'someone you trust who knows Finnish'.

"Maybe we can schedule an appointment for the weekend," I tell the girl. "In the meantime, I'll find someone."

She smiles at me. "No problem. What about this Saturday, at eleven in the morning?"

That night, lying in bed with only the glow of my phone screen to light my face, I text Aksel.

***

"Thanks for your help," I say. The door has just closed behind us. In my hand I grip the stack of signed documents that I have received from my new landlord.

Aksel slides his hands into his pockets. "You're welcome," he says. "It was no trouble."

It was probably a lot of trouble. He had had to read through the documents and then translate them to me in English. He hadn't done it half-heartedly – he had gone through every clause and line. Even without knowing Finnish, I'm sure I have a good understanding of every word in the contract now.

"I wanted to apologise, too," I shove the words out quickly, such that they stumble over each other. But like a stack of meticulously placed cars, they wobble and then hold.

"Apologise?"

"For that day," I clarify, darting a glance at him. "When you came to the uni."

He is still as a block. That's how I know he had been more deeply affected by the incident than I had thought.