‘Pinkpancakes?’ I ask, nudging mine with my fork.
‘Blood pancakes,’ he replies.
I laugh, knowing this must be another of the famous jokes Finns make when they tease a friend, and I slice a bit off and take a bite, only to be struck by the savoury, floury, meaty taste; a little metallic, a little sweet.
All three of mylavvucompanions, I notice, are watching me as my jaw works and I try to figure out what’s happening to my taste buds.
‘Tastes like… tastes like… black pudding?’
‘Like I said, blood pancakes,’ Niilo smiles. ‘Made from whipped reindeer blood and… are you OK, Sylvie?’
I swallow, nod politely and wonder how on earth I can sneak this thing out to the huskies without anyone noticing. But everyone else seems to be tucking in, enjoying this course of our meal, and Nari’s engaging Niilo in friendly chatter every now and again.
Stellan, I notice, is eating quietly, staring into the flames. I never could tolerate someone being awkwardly silent, so I put my plate down and try to catch his eye, building up to saying something, but what, I don’t yet know.
‘Do you get used to the cold, Stellan?’ That’s not a bad opener, I think. ‘I’m guessing it’s a lot different to the winter you spent in Manchester?’
He looks shaken for a moment but lifts another forkful to his mouth. All three of us watch him chewing slowly and I’m aware of Nari and Niilo casting furtive, amused glances at each other. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the exchange trip? Maybe it irritates him, confirming his suspicions that I’m here to conduct a post-mortem on a love affair that’s been dead for fifteen years.
‘It’s not so bad if you dress well. It’s the darkness that’s hard to cope with,’ he says, and the whole time I’m analysing his voice.
He doesn’t sound cross or suspicious. He’s just neutral. I guess we’re just like any other tourists to him; nothing special or out of the ordinary.
Niilo laughs, and I see a slight shake of his head aimed at quiet, stuffy Stellan.
‘People wouldn’t come here if it were not for the cold and the dark. Think about it,’ says Niilo. ‘Most people fly in, head straight for their hotels, then they eat in heated restaurants, they sleep under glass domes or in cosy cabins, locked away from the outside world. A few venture out hiking, or husky-driving, or to the reindeer sled safaris. And mostly, they fly home straight afterwards with their souvenirs and their phones full of pretty pictures. They get what they came for, a taste of Lapland in winter, but I don’t think they’re seeing the real magic of this place. They want the tourist treatment mainly, and that’s fine, it’s lots of fun. But, for me, I welcome the cold and the dark when it stays around in January and February, when the flights are less frequent and Father Christmas has gone back to his workshop.’ He winks at Nari, and neither of us can help smiling. ‘I get my world back. The resort’s so quiet and I’m alone with my thoughts and the dogs and the herd. That’s when I can feel my family around me again.’
‘You can feel them? But… they’re not here?’ Nari asks cautiously.
‘No. I have nobody left, just friends, good friends. All my immediate family are spirits now.’ He looks into the fire, and Nari glances at me, alarmed, as we realise Niilo’s a man in mourning.
‘I’m sorry,’ she offers.
‘That’s OK. The landscape, my history, the dark nights and the snow, these things are very comforting. I have everything I need, now. And I have cousins in the south, and of course, I have Stellan.’ He laughs suddenly, coming out of himself again. ‘And, as you can tell, Stellan is full of entertaining stories and jokes to make the evenings fly.’
‘Oh! I could tell a few stories about you, if you like, Niilo, enough to make our guests’ hair stand on end,’ Stellan says. ‘Which shall I tell first?’ he adds. ‘The time you nearly got yourself trampled to death in that reindeer stampede, which you caused by dropping that bale of hay, or shall I tell them about the day you fell from the spa roof trying to clear the snow off?’
‘As long as you don’t mind me mentioning how your beer brewing experiment ended with your wardrobe doors getting exploded clean off?’ Niilo replies, with laughter raising his voice.
It’s heart-warming to see Stellan and Niilo face each other off with good-humoured camaraderie, like brothers.
I guess Nari’s thinking the same thing because she’s drawn her camera out from the pocket of her snowsuit and she quickly snaps a picture of our two hosts. Stellan notices and instantly clams up.
‘Be careful with that,’ he says, snappishly.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I usually ask first, but you two were laughing and it all looked so natural and festive, I guess I didn’t think. I instinctively snapped a quick picture for my blog. I’m sorry, I’ll delete it.’
‘He means be careful of letting your camera get cold. The batteries will drain away in minutes in these temperatures,’ reassures Niilo, but as I watch Stellan return to eating his meal without saying another word or meeting their eyes, I’m not so sure that is what he meant. The jollity of our shared meal seems to have been shattered and we silently drain our glasses.
Soon after, Niilo rises to his feet and clears away our empty dishes. There’s a basin of water by the fire and I offer to help him wash up. As I dry our plates and pack them away in one of the boxes, I listen to Nari trying to get Stellan to chat about the logistics of running the tourist wilderness trails. He answers and even accepts a few squares from her slab of chocolate, but I notice she’s treading carefully, and she doesn’t write down any quotes or take any more photos, and in spite of Nari’s uncharacteristic blunder – goodness knows she’s travelled enough to observe the etiquette for taking pictures – I’m still cross that he’s making her so uncomfortable.
‘You and Niilo are getting along all right then?’ I say, once me and Nari are finally alone outside petting the dogs after lunch.
‘He’s adorable, maybe a little bit shy though.’
‘Shy? You two haven’t stopped talking since we set off from the resort.’
‘Somebody had to fill the silence. Has Stellan used up his word ration for the year and he’s spinning out five a day until January?’
