The Unconsoled (76 page)

'He'll never be one of us. You've got to understand that, Boris. He'll never love you like a real father.'

More people pushed past me. I raised my hand in the air.

'Boris!' I called.

The little boy, hanging back in the throng, looked towards me once more.

'Boris! That bus ride, you remember it? That bus ride to the artificial lake. Remember, Boris, how good it was? How kind everyone was to us on the bus? The little presents they gave, the singing. You remember, Boris?'

Passengers had now started to disembark. Boris gave me one last glance and then disappeared from my view. More people pushed past and then the tram began to move again.

After a while I turned and made my way back to my seat. The electrician smiled cheerfully as I sat down again in front of him. Then I became aware of him leaning forward, patting my shoulder, and I realised I was sobbing.

'Listen,' he was saying, 'everything always seems very bad at the time. But it all passes, nothing's ever as bad as it looks. Do cheer up.' For a while he went on uttering such empty phrases while I continued to sob. Then I heard him say: 'Look, why don't you have some breakfast. Just have something to eat, like the rest of us. You're bound to feel a little better then. Come on. Go and get something to eat.'

I glanced up and saw that the electrician was holding a plate on his lap, on which was a half-finished croissant and a small knob of butter. His knees were covered in crumbs.

'Ah,' I said, straightening and recovering my composure. 'Where did you get that?'

The electrician indicated beyond my shoulder. Turning, I saw a crowd of passengers standing at the very rear of the tram where some sort of buffet had been laid out. I noticed too that the whole back half of the carriage had become quite crowded, and that all around us passengers were eating and drinking. The electrician's breakfast was modest in comparison to many being consumed; I could now see people working their way through large plates of eggs, bacon, tomatoes, sausages.

'Come on,' the electrician said again. 'Go and get yourself some breakfast. Then we'll talk about all your troubles. Or if you prefer, we can just forget about it all and talk about whatever you like, whatever's likely to cheer you up. Football, cinema. Anything you like. But the first thing to do is to get some breakfast. You look like you haven't eaten for some time.'

'You're quite right,' I said. 'Now I think of it, I haven't eaten for a very long time. But please tell me. Where is this tram going? I have to get to my hotel to pack my things. You see, I have a flight this morning to Helsinki. I have to get to my hotel pretty soon.'

'Oh, this tram will get you more or less anywhere you like in the city. This is what we call the morning circuit. Then there's the evening circuit. Twice a day a tram goes right the way round the entire circuit. Oh yes, you can go anywhere on this tram. It's the same again in the evening, but the atmosphere's quite different then. Oh yes, this is a marvellous tram.'

'How splendid. Well then, excuse me. I think I'll take up your suggestion and get some breakfast. In fact, you're quite right. Even the idea of it is making me feel better.'

'That's more the spirit,' the electrician said and raised his croissant in a salute.

I got up and went to the back of the carriage. Various aromas came wafting towards me. A number of people were in the act of serving themselves, but peering over their shoulders I saw a large buffet presented in a semi-circular arrangement directly beneath the rear window of the tram. There was on offer virtually everything one could wish for: scrambled eggs, fried eggs, a choice of cold meats and sausages, sauteed potatoes, mushrooms, cooked tomatoes. There was a large platter with rolled herrings and other fish preparations, two huge baskets filled with croissants and different sorts of rolls, a glass bowl of fresh fruit, numerous jugs of coffee and juices. Everyone around the buffet seemed more than eager to get to the food, and yet the atmosphere was extremely cordial, with people passing things to one another and exchanging cheerful remarks.

I took a plate, glancing up as I did so through the rear window with its receding view of the city streets, and could feel my spirits rising yet further. Things had not, after all, gone so badly. Whatever disappointments this city had brought, there was no doubting that my presence had been greatly appreciated - just as it had been everywhere else I had ever gone. And now here I was, my visit almost at its close, a thoroughly impressive buffet before me offering virtually everything I had ever wished to eat for breakfast. The croissants looked particularly promising. Indeed, from the manner in which passengers all around the carriage were devouring theirs, it was obvious they were extremely fresh and of the highest possible quality. Then again, nothing my gaze fell upon looked anything less than enticing.

I started to serve myself a little of everything. As I did so, I began to picture myself, already back in my seat, exchanging pleasant talk with the electrician, glancing out between mouthfuls at the early-morning streets. The electrician was in many ways the ideal person for me to talk to at this moment. He was clearly kind-hearted, but at the same time careful not to be intrusive. I could see him now, still eating his croissant, obviously in no hurry to get off the tram. In fact, he looked set to go on sitting there for a long time to come. And with the tram running a continuous circuit, if the two of us were enjoying our conversation, he was just the sort to delay getting off until the next time his stop came around. The buffet too was clearly here to stay for some time yet, so that we would be able to break off from our conversation every now and then to replenish our plates. I could even see us repeatedly persuading each other to have more. 'Go on! Just one more sausage! Here, give me your plate, I'll get it for you.' We would go on sitting there together, eating, exchanging views on football and whatever else took our fancy, while outside the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, brightening the streets and our side of the carriage. And only when we were thoroughly done, when we had eaten and talked all we could possibly want, the electrician might glance at his watch, give a sigh and point out that the stop for my hotel was coming round again. I too would sigh, and with some reluctance rise to my feet, brushing the crumbs off my lap. We would shake hands, wish each other a good day - he too would be having to get off before long, he would tell me - and I would go off to join the crowd of cheerful passengers gathering around the exit. Then, as the tram came to a halt, I would perhaps give the electrician one last wave and disembark, secure in the knowledge that I could look forward to Helsinki with pride and confidence.

I filled my coffee cup almost to the brim. Then, holding it carefully in one hand, my generously laden plate in the other, I began making my way back to my seat.