‘Good! Can I make us both a hot chocolate?’ I offer.
‘I was actually thinking of another way to warm you up,’ he says, and we lock eyes again.
I peer at the towel, then back at Stellan, my incredulity written all over my face, and he’s got the cheek to just laugh.
‘A sauna?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you mean that shed thing by the jetty?’
‘Uh-huh.’
I look from the snow-covered hut back towards the lake house which I only got the briefest glimpse inside. It was luxurious and modern, and there was a massive white sofa in front of a fireplace where I’d happily have flopped down and put my feet up for a bit. I had a quick peek inside the downstairs bathroom too; maybe I could just have a nice hot bubble bath? I follow Stellan’s line of sight towards the wooden sweatbox and it holdszeroappeal.
‘You want me to strip out of these perfectly comfy thermal leggings to sit in a cramped, overheated, airless room and just… perspire?’
‘That’s the idea. It’s good for you.’
I remind myself that I came to Lapland to experience all that it has to offer, and I think of Nari raving about the cultural importance of saunas here. If I want to understand Stellan properly, I suppose I ought to at least try this cornerstone of life in Finnish Lapland.
I begrudgingly take the towel and make my way towards the jetty, following Stellan’s broad strides.
He turns the handle and the sauna’s outer door opens. ‘It wasn’t locked?’ I ask as we step inside.
‘No, it’s communal, anyone in the area can use it. In the spring there are hot tubs too. The neighbours all come over, we cook sausages on the sauna coals and drink beers. It’s cool.’
Stellan must have already come out to the sauna to start heating the coals while I was nipping to the loo back at the lake house because I can see the glass in the sauna room is already steamed up.
‘You have neighbours? But there isn’t another house for miles around,’ I say.
‘There are houses secreted all over this forest. We just live out of sight of each other. We’re kind of private.’
‘Except when you’re roasting your chestnuts in the sauna together?’
Enjoying the sound of Stellan’s laughter and hoping he’ll laugh again – and partly because I’m jabbering on to hide my nerves – I tell him about Piero, my elderly Italian neighbour in the flat below mine. I’ve met him three times now by the bins and we’ve chatted about the weather and how I can never keep track of when the recycling collection day is, and we’ve even had a cup of tea in his little kitchen, but in that entire time, it never once occurred to me to ask him if he’d like to strip out of his cable-knit cardi and hop in a steamy room with me and Marjorie, the retired bank clerk from 3A.
Stellan’s still laughing when it strikes me that he’s already out of his jacket and boots and is standing barefoot by the big baskets I’m clearly supposed to be putting my clothing in. Oh God, is he undressing? Right in front of me?He is!I don’t know where to look.
‘Is this OK, Sylvie? Honestly?’ he’s saying to me, though I can barely hear him over my heartbeat somehow pounding out a rhythm on my eardrums.
How do I answer that? If Stellan’s planning on stripping down to his birthday suit then I am definitely A-OK with the idea. It’s just reciprocating that’s going to be a problem. Thank Thor I ran a razor over my legs again this morning, but still, moving straight from two fully clothed kisses yesterday to non-sexual full frontal lounging around feels decidedly odd, and I know I’m blushing bright pink.
‘We can go back to the house, don’t worry. It was just an idea.’ He’s scrunched up the bottom of his T-shirt ready to peel it off – and I caught a tiny glimpse of belly button and firm muscle – but now he’s standing there unmoving, looking at me, cautious and concerned. I’m not sure where to put my eyes, but I hear myself speaking.
‘No, I want to. You go first.’
He grins and in an instant the T-shirt is chucked into the basket and… justwow!
‘So you’ve spent fifteen years doing bench presses then?’ I’ve said it before I can stop myself, and all I can do to recover is take a sudden interest in the straps of my snow boots. He laughs again and although I’m not looking, I can tell he’s setting to work on his bottom layers.
Failing to keep my cool, I turn my back to him entirely and make quick work of my snowsuit and boots, jumper and thermal leggings, thinking if I do it swiftly it’ll be less hideous. But as I turn back, checking to see if he’s watching me struggling with nervous fingers to get this damned bra unfastened, he’s gone.
I notice the coals’ glow through the steamy glass of the swinging sauna door and let out a relieved breath. And I do still have my towel. So, kicking my underwear into the basket and hiding my horrid beige long johns in the big pocket of my snowsuit, I quickly wrap the towel around me, wishing it was slightly less skimpy, and I reach for the sauna door handle.
There’s further comfort when I hear the hiss of beer bottle tops being opened and I see Stellan through the steam in the dim light, smiling reassuringly. There’s a towel around his waist.
I know my voice is shaking when I ask, ‘I thought Finns sauna naked?’
