‘I’ve already said so.’

She turns her back on me again. I move to the table. I draw a line in the dust shrouding it. Has the new maid been engaged only to receive free board? Mother begins nervously fingering those foolish porcelain knick-knacks collected on top of the chest of drawers: angels and horses and sheep and unicorns. Grotesque reminders of her urban childhood, long since lost. Though there is still something childlike about her, always will be. I would bet my boots she is itching to grab that bottle on the side table. So I go and pour myself a drink.

‘I hear Erik is in Vaasa with Mauri,’ I say. ‘The Farmhand told me.’

Her voice couldn’t get any more tense. ‘They seem to have more than enough business over there. But what do I know? It could be something really important. I made up my mind a long time ago that I don’t need to bother with the affairs of this house any more. Erik deals with all that. And I think I’ve earned a quiet life by now.’

‘Yes, for sure. And Erik has…’

‘A capable wife to support him? Is that what you were going to say?’

‘Capable, why not? Not a bad expression.’

She half-turns towards me. ‘Why did you come back?’ She seems to direct the question to a third person, hidden from view.

‘What sort of a question is that? Surely a man can come home.’

‘Home? No use trying to pull the wool over my eyes. I know full well there’s no such thing as home where you’re concerned.’

Strange, how at times the easiness of words can make your whole face feel light. ‘A man can’t always fathom his comings and goings. I felt there was unfinished business.’

‘Business?’

‘Yes. Certain business.’

She snorts, weakly but furiously. ‘It’d be better if you saw to your certain business elsewhere.’

‘But I happen to be here. So, not much you can do about it.’

I am about to step into the doorway when she says, ‘You obviously didn’t do that well in St Petersburg.’