She jumped out of bed and stretched. It was still early. Daidan would be at work in the library. The staff hadn’t arrived at the island yet. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out sensible, warm clothes, rather than her elegant, expensive designer wear. She wouldn’t need those where she was going this morning.
Daidan still hadn’t emerged from the library and Taina was able to pick up the key for the boat without him knowing. Not that he’d hidden it. She was sure that he wouldn’t know that she was an excellent sailor. In their short time together, she’d never had to demonstrate it.
By the time she made her way down through the terraced gardens, dew was on the grass and birdsong filled the air. She had to get out of there. She walked quickly to the boatshed and unlocked it. She glanced up at the house briefly to see if the whirring of the electronic doors had stirred anyone. There was no sign of activity. Presumably Daidan was either on the phone, Skyping, or immersed in his work.
She knew the drill, the security, how to work the boat. She’d lived most of her life on the island and knew boating inside out. It had been her only escape. It had been on one of her expeditions that she’d first met Daidan. It seemed so long ago.
Quietly she maneuvered the boat out into the bay, making sure to keep close to the shoreline, under the trees whose branches dipped and dragged in the current. She winced at the sound of the motor in the quiet of the morning. As soon as she was around the headland she opened up the throttle and headed to Helsinki at full speed. She’d get those designs she wanted from her mother’s studio in The Warehouse. And, more importantly, she’d get away from the island for a few hours.
Daidan pulled the phone away from his ear, trying to figure out what the noise was he’d just heard above the conference call he was on. Then he heard it, a change in gear of a small boat—his boat. Taina! He jumped up and opened the dressing room door. It was empty. Damn!
“Taina!” he bellowed, but he knew it was no good. She’d taken the boat. He just knew it. “Taina!” he called again as the other end of the house. But her name echoed around the huge space, taunting him with its empty sound.
He dressed quickly and picked up his phone. He had a message. Just a brief text from her, just saying she needed to get away for a few hours. On her own. But where? He looked across the waters to Helsinki and saw several boats. He got the binoculars and focused on one in particular—the flag snapping jauntily in the breeze. It was the Mustonen pennant. He narrowed his gaze as he punched a number into his phone.
“Get a helicopter over to me straight away and then get yourself and a couple of the men over to the quay, fast. Taina’s on her way over and she’s no idea as to the trouble she could run into.”
He slammed down the phone and looked over at the boat that grew smaller with each passing minute. She had no idea of the desperation of men whose livelihood their new company would impact on. No idea of the depths they’d stoop to. He just prayed that his men would get to her before the Russians.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Taina couldn’t remember the last time she’d made the crossing alone. But she hadn’t forgotten what to do, how to operate the boat, how to glide it carefully into position at that part of the quay that had belonged to her family—a couple of miles from where Daidan preferred to keep his boats. The family quay was on the island of Katajanokka which was separated from the city of Helsinki by a narrow canal. It was here, amongst the grand old buildings, the awe-inspiring Uspenski Cathedral, and the leafy parks, that her mother’s warehouse was situated. She needed to go there to pick up some design work. But that wasn’t the only reason. She simply needed to go there—to make peace with her mother, and her past.
After docking, with the help of a couple of surprised waterside workers, she jumped up onto the quay. With no bag, just the keys to the boat and The Warehouse and her wallet slipped in her pockets, she walked toward her mother’s warehouse. It was still early so the place was deserted. The summer holidays hadn’t begun in earnest so visitors were few and far between.
She walked past beautiful nineteenth-century stone buildings, painted in the softest of chalky hues—lemon, blue, brown, ochre—all blending together, making this historic area also one of the most picturesque in Helsinki. The trees that lined the wide street were heavy with new leaf and barely moved in the still air. It was going to be a hot day—and a humid one. She continued walking a block until she arrived at the quarter where The Warehouse was. With the sea on one side, and a large park on the other, the historic red-brick warehouse and its neighbors stood in a prime position. The other warehouses had also been converted into restaurants, business centers and hotels. Normally there was a buzz about the place but now, with so few people around, Taina looked upon it with different eyes. She stopped under the shelter of the trees and looked up at its age-softened façade with its beautifully proportioned, arched windows. She lifted her gaze higher to the topmost window into which the early morning sun was shining. She pictured the sunny window seat on the other side where she used to sit and watch her mother draw by the light of the window on the northern slide of the building.