“Not at all. This bread would be a real asset to our business.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and this time he left it there. They were standing very close to each other, and it was already very hot in the bakery. But Tuula suddenly felt even hotter. She longed for the coolness of the spring evening outside, but didn’t want to move away from his touch. After a while he removed his hand and finished off his slice of bread. “I’ll speak to my father. I assume you’re walking home—do you mind if I walk with you?”
Tuula inhaled sharply, and her heart beat faster. “Not at all, no.”
They cleared up, and Tuula changed out of her uniform. Nils locked up, collected his bike from the rack, and wheeled it onto the road. They set off side by side. It was still light, a sign that summer was on its way.
“So you’re from Rovaniemi?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I do, but at the same time I really want us to make a new life here. There’s nothing left up there. As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Germans burned everything,herrEklund.”
“I have. And there’s no need to call meherrEklund—it’s Nils.”
She smiled. “Nils. It’s strange—in a way I’m grieving for what we left behind, and yet I don’t want to go back.” When she found out what had happened to her hometown, she became all the more determined to create a fresh start for her family.
“I don’t think it’s strange at all. It’s hard to yearn for something that no longer exists.”
“True.”
Nils asked questions about the bread she had baked in Finland, and they became absorbed in details about different kinds of flour and proofing times. All too soon they had reached her street, and she stopped. “This is where I live.”
“And I live down by the square.”
“Thank you for your company,herr...” She broke off. “Thank you for your company, Nils.”
“No, thank you. It was good to have the chance to get to know you a little better.”
16
Could a sourdough starter be the closest thing you had to a family? Was it weird to think that way? It probably wasn’t fair to Bea, her best friend. Nora’s mind was whirling as she fed her beloved starter with flour and water. She stopped for a moment, inhaled the smell, allowed herself to simply be in the moment.
It was the morning after that horrible panic attack. She felt exhausted but calm, as though a violent storm had passed through her. And yet she couldn’t relax.
The production team had rushed to help her, and she had come around with her head on Henrik’s lap and Elnaz looking down at her. It was so humiliating! Thank goodness Hassan had been sitting beside her. He had held her hand, and it had been good to see a familiar face. They had led her into the changing room, where she had sunk down onto a bench. Elnaz and Hassan had eventually helped her up to her apartment. They had tried to persuade her to call someone to come and stay with her, but Nora just wanted to be left in peace.
She had slept deeply but had vivid dreams. She was woken by a text from Elnaz, wondering how she was feeling and telling her she didn’t need to come in for filming until lunchtime, and then only if she was up to it. They would spend the morning filming material around the town, plus a couple of scenes with Henrik on his own, so none of the team would be in the patisserie.
Henrik sent a message too:Hope you’re feeling better! Henrik
Was she feeling better? She didn’t know. It was as if she had been sedated.
After a quiet morning at home, she stood holding the sourdough starter in its jar. The glass beneath her fingertips was reassuring, but she decided she had too many other things to do, so she put it down. She really ought to call the bank and ask about her overdraft protection. She owed Hassan money, but she couldn’t face it. Instead she logged on and transferred the money to Hassan from her own personal account, which she could just about afford to do. Then she sent him a text to let him know that the payment had gone through.
She then got to work, doing a lot of preparation for the week ahead, which meant she wouldn’t have to call in the extra baker she sometimes used, which would save on expenses.
The afternoon’s filming was a lot less dramatic than the day before. They discussed the renovations for the café, and then she and Henrik baked some cookies. They didn’t talk much—the team was mainly looking for footage that could be used in montages at a later stage. Even Ted kept quiet, and fortunately Don wasn’t there.
Elnaz took her aside when they’d finished filming, asked how she was feeling, and informed her that the production company was happy to arrange for her to see a counselor if that would be helpful, but Nora smoothed the whole thing over. She couldn’t open up to these people—they weren’t her friends and didn’t want what was best for her. They would always put the show first.
There was to be a break in filming for a few days so that the renovations could be done. Henrik and Elnaz would head out to recordChristmas with the Eklundsduring that time. The thought of a break made everything seem a little easier, and there wouldn’t be much more filming after that. The thought of having to close for the renovations made her feel slightly panic-stricken again—that was the last thing the business needed—but she had no choice.
Although Nora was still exhausted when the workday ended, she showered and changed; packed her bike basket with cheese, marmalade,and crispbread; and cycled over to Bea’s, who had invited her to dinner. They were going to dig out the patisserie’s Christmas decorations, which she stored there after having an issue with dampness at the patisserie.
Nora let herself in when she arrived and stepped into the hallway, littered with muddy Wellingtons, winter boots, hats and gloves, and padded dungarees. The others were seated at the table, where dinner was already loudly underway. Max hurtled over to Nora and gave her a hug. Svea was in her high chair, and Nora ruffled her dark curls before she sat down.
Ahmat, Bea’s husband, served Nora a generous portion of lentil stew. Nora took the plate and inhaled the aroma of the spices.
