This story came about from messages I exchanged with Holly Snow. I had written that I was trying to set my stories in various places and she suggested that I write something about Northern Europe. I joked that I could call it ‘Antonia from Estonia’ and this is the result, some 65,000 words later.
Marianne

E’volvo’lution Chapter 1

I was sitting in my bedroom, playing a stupid game on my laptop, when my mother walked into my room without knocking, dropped a truck magazine on my keyboard and stood waiting for my reaction. I had looked through it already so asked her just what she wanted me to look at.

She just opened it at a page which had an advertisement for the big Truck Show, in a couple of weeks, in Tallinn, Estonia,

Now, much as I would love to go and look at a heap of show trucks, I was only just starting to put together a bank account of my own, after paying out for a motorbike a few years ago. Another factor was that my bedroom is situated in Uppsala, just a little way north of Stockholm, Sweden

I sat back and looked her in the eyes, “So?”

She reached over and pushed the off button on my laptop so I knew I was in for a serious talk.

“Come into the kitchen and I will make us a coffee and I will tell you what is going to happen.”

I sighed and, as I had nothing better to do I followed her with the magazine in my hand. As we sat with our drinks she laid her cards on the table.

“Anton,” she said, “I had a call from your father this morning. The trip has been extended and he will not be home again for another month or more.”

Now, my father, Mats Berg, is a long-distance truck driver with his own truck; a tractor model Volvo Globetrotter FHXXL. He specialises in heavy loads over long distances and had picked up a power-station generator in Tartu, Estonia, a couple of weeks ago. Last I had heard he was dropping it off somewhere in Germany.

She carried on, “He picked up a double trailer job in Berlin to go to Madrid and after that there is a wide-load mining truck that needs to go from Spain to Turkey and it can only travel at night.”

The truck we operated had all the comforts of home so he would be able to look after himself for the time he was away. It would be a very lucrative summer for the family.

I sighed as this would mean that I needed to find a job. I helped him service the truck. I had spent a few years working the summer months at the Volvo factory as well as a lot of time with the transport company my father worked with.

Unfortunately they had just put on a fully qualified diesel mechanic so didn’t need me now. Also, there was no space for me at Volvo this summer. You may wonder why I wasn’t driving myself and the answer is simple. Firstly, I had only just gained my heavy truck licence and, secondly, the transport firm didn’t think I was big enough to be in charge of a powerful truck.

My father was a typical truck driver, all a hundred and twenty kilo of him. He was actually the smallest of the drivers he worked with.

Me, well I was no more than sixty kilo soaking wet. On top of that I had inherited my looks from my mother and she had been a beauty queen from Sandvika.

My parents had actually met when my father was displaying a truck at a show and she was in the fashion parade. She joined him in the cab for the truck procession through Oslo and one thing, as they say; led to another and eventually my elder sister graced their lives.

I came into the world a few years later. I got on quite well with my sister, Halina, and took over her room when she got married. I became an uncle just over a year ago and was surprised when my mother carried on..

“Now, I also had a call from your sister and she wants to come home for a while. It seems that your brother-in-law hasn’t been a proper husband and she has been sent a picture of him kissing another woman from one of her friends. She thinks a short separation may do the trick. I think he’ll just move in with the other woman. She’ll need your room so the baby can sleep there as well; your old room in the attic is far too small.”

This made me sit up and take notice as it would now be far too small for me as well.

“When your father called we discussed this and he told me that he would give you three thousand euro as a belated twenty-first present so that you can take a trip to this truck show. He said it was something not to be missed. You have a few days to get yourself ready, load up your bike and get on a ferry. It will allow you to do a bit of travel, see some new things and allow your sister some time at home. There are cheaper places in Tallinn where you can stay. You never know, there may be somewhere there you can find work. The country is thriving and you won’t have a problem with the language as a lot of the people there speak Swedish as well as Estonian. I’ll transfer the money to your account tomorrow.”

Now, who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth so gave her a hug and went up to my room to sort out what I needed to take. I understood why my gift had not been given on my actual birthday as we had been paying off the new truck at the time but things were now much better and I thought that my father was feeling a little guilty.

I hadn’t really minded as I had grown up knowing the value of money. Halina had also been frugal but, luckily, didn’t need a great deal of spending on her to look good. She had also inherited our mothers’ looks and had been the local beauty queen at sixteen.

The clothing part of packing would not be a problem. A couple of pairs of jeans, a few shirts, some underwear and spare shoes would fit easily in my pannier boxes. The rest of my personal things and papers would go in the back-pack.

As I would be on my Husqvarna Svartpilen 250cc I would be in my leather jeans and a leather coat so I would have those if it did get cold while I was away. I looked up the temperatures for Tallinn and saw that they could be up to the low thirties centigrade over summer.

For many, just putting a bunch of clothing together and taking off would be out of the ordinary. In a trucking family it’s almost normal. I got my heavy vehicle licence earlier in the year and my first good drive was with my father, delivering a double-trailer load of steel from Stockholm to Moscow.

We went by ferry to Helsinki and then drove the rest of the way. Luckily, the weather was kind and we only needed chains a couple of days. Even more luckily, we got a return load as far as Saint Petersburg so it was a good earner as well. There was a ferry directly home from there but it was a choppy twenty-four hours!

I spent a few days servicing my motorbike and tidying up in the garage. I then moved all of my things I would be leaving into the attic room. I loaded up my bike with all the spare things I thought I would need, leaving enough room for my panniers.

I thoroughly cleaned the bedroom in preparation for her arrival. I don’t think my sister would notice much difference once I had cleared out, considering that I had done very little to change the décor when I moved in.

The paint may have been a bit pinker than the usual guys’ room but you usually are only there to sleep in the dark. I was going to have to leave my lap-top as that would be too heavy for me on the bike as well as being a thief-magnet.

I then took one day in our big garage making sure all of my tools were oiled and stored correctly. When I had finished that I felt pretty good with myself as I did like things tidy; and it was a real sign of a good mechanic when the tools are clean and ready to be used.

Halina arrived on the day before I was supposed to leave and we had a family hug.

She greeted me with, “Thank you, Ant, for giving me back my old room. I can see that it’s had its effect on you as you look more like me every day!”

My mother laughed and patted me, “It’s all right; she’s only showing you how much she loves you.”

My mother knew that I was very self-conscious about my looks and often asked why I kept my blonde locks long. I always replied that it was a simple act of defiance to those who had put me down at school. At least I was treated with the respect my skills as a mechanic deserved when I was in the transport workshop with my hair up in a cap.

I slept in the attic that night and it brought back the fears of a younger me. I had a dream where I was being harried by the school bullies who used to call me Antoinette.

Even after school it had an effect on my love life as most of the girls my age had been in classes with me. Even my longest lasting girlfriend had dropped me, saying that she could no longer stand being asked who her girlfriend was by those who had never met me. While I was no longer a virgin, I was not the most experienced twenty-three year-old around.

The next day I spent the morning with my sister and my niece. I went to pick the baby up once and she pulled my hair and called me ‘Mumma’, so sending Halina into hysterics.

We went out for lunch and it was very pleasant and then I attached my panniers to the bike, got myself kitted out, and kissed the two most precious women in my life and put the crash helmet on.

The ride from Uppsala down to the port at Stockholm was mostly on a highway so it was an easy one. At the shipping terminal I was directed by a guy who called “Down the road and to the right, Miss.”

As the trip takes about seventeen hours or so we would be leaving around four to arrive in Tallinn the following morning. I had shelled out for a cheap cabin as I had heard about people being robbed as they sleep on the way.

Cheap it was and Spartan does not go anywhere to describe it. I spent the night on a board, deep in the bowels of the ship, but, at least, I got some sleep and woke up with all of my property and a stiff back.

We off-loaded around ten and, after the usual customs delays, I was let loose in Estonia. I had a couple of days before the Truck Show so was able to spend some time looking around.

I bought a street map and found where my accommodation was so went there first to check in. Once again it was cheap and Spartan but the Krati Uurikorterid Ja Hostel (Krati Research Apartments and Hostel) was clean and tidy, even if it did look like a barrack block.

I put my panniers in the room and had a shower before putting on a clean tee-shirt. Back on the bike I went back to the city centre.

I parked in a safe place near the Toompea Castle and secured the bike with a thin, but strong, cable with a padlock. The cable also ran through the gap in my full-face helmet so kept that safe as well.

I had a pleasant walk around the castle and Saint Marys’ Cathedral before moving into the All-Linn (Old Town) to have a look at the sights after I had brought some lunch at a little café as well as a local pay as you go SIM card for my phone.

I was finding it hard at times to follow the signs in Estonian but there were some Swedish translations at the tourist spots as well as the shops and cafes close by.

Leaving the bike in place I took the bus to the Seaplane Harbour and the Museum, all on my Tallinn Card which I had bought on the ferry. During the day I took lots of selfies which I sent back to my mother.

I was getting pretty tired by the time I had an evening meal so just went back to the Hostel to crash for the evening, maybe some night life tomorrow!

The following day was really nice so I left the bike at the Hostel and found a bus to take me back to the city.

Today I planned to have a look at the Kadriorg and Pirita. The first has the Palace of Peter the Great and a good art Museum; the second is a Marina that was built for the Olympics hosted by Moscow. The first was very interesting and the second was a great place to sit and watch boats while having a drink.

In the afternoon I found the Song Festival Grounds where the Truck Show would be the next day. There were guys setting out fences and erecting a stage and it was quite a bustle of activity. A few trucks were already parked as they had come long distances and it was interesting to see these. There would be more the next day.

That evening I found a bar that had a band on stage and was hit on by a couple of guys wanting me to dance with them so left early to go back to the Hostel to get my beauty sleep – not that I needed it if those guys were to be believed.

Next morning I showered and dressed in my leather jeans and bike boots with a loose Volvo tee-shirt and carried my possessions in the back-pack. I took the bus to the Song Festival Grounds and it was a different place from the day before.

This time I had to pay to get in and there were lines of trucks, both old and new, as well as a good crowd with a lot of kids running around. Being where we were, the majority of the trucks were Scania but there were a number of other makes there as well.

Most were air-brushed to an amazing degree. The artwork was truly beautiful. I had got to a line with some Volvo trucks and was studying the first.

It was an FL Electric with a van body and was called Aldrig Innehall 2 – ‘Never Content 2’. The paintwork was all lightning flashes and the base colours went from blue to black.

I was taking a picture of it when a man standing beside me said something in Estonian and I turned to him, shrugged my shoulders and said “Swedish”

His face lit up, “Ah, at last there’s someone I can talk the true language with. I asked you what you thought of this truck.”

“I think it is absolutely beautiful but I think it will do better than a hundred kph.

He laughed again, “Ahah! Someone who also knows their history! I have a fleet of five of these, all painted the same. They do a run between the Kalev confectionary factory and the Tallinn Airport so are perfect for that. It’s a good contract and they actually do exceed eighty, but not often.”

“I‘m glad to meet someone who knows the name refers to the very first car to exceed 100 kph; also powered by electricity. There’re many who think that electric vehicles are new on the road.”

He told me that all of his were the four hundred and twenty-five Nm models with up to 300 Km range.

I told him that I had been on the Volvo production line last summer, putting these together and, for the last couple of weeks, driving them off the line to the inspection building.

He asked me if I had a proper licence so I pulled my paperwork out of my bag and showed him my Swedish Heavy Vehicle licence.

He noted that it was very new, as befitting my youthful looks, and asked if I had done any proper driving.

I told him that I had done one big trip so far, with my father, with a double trailer loaded with eighty tonnes of special steel from Stockholm to Moscow and back through Saint Petersburg.

“Not with an FL?” he asked.

“No, with our FHXXL Globetrotter,” I laughed.

He looked serious and asked me what other qualifications I had so I showed him my papers from all the modules of diesel mechanics I had completed.

“About the only ones I haven’t done yet are those involving the electrical systems and computers. The trucking firm I worked for outsources those jobs so I was just involved with the mechanical servicing. My first couple of summers in the Volvo factory was on the assembly line of FH models and then I did a summer in the engine building area.”

He smiled, “I see that your name is Anton Berg from this paperwork and it’s a real pleasure talking to you. There are not many in Tallinn with your background. I have a couple of other trucks in the show, perhaps I can walk with you and you can tell me what you think of them. My name is Greger Lundin, by the way”

Behind the FL was a FH six by two. This means that it has two axles at the back with only one driven. It is a good medium-distance truck and this one had a sleeper cab and was called Halla Pa (Keeping On).

Unlike the standard interior of the electric, this one had a full leather make-over in black trim and red button upholstery. The paintwork was amazing, the main colour being yellow with red and black highlights and the picture was a man on a speeding horse, all decked out in Wild West Pony Express gear.

We sat up in the cab with me at the wheel and it was a fantastic experience. The dashboard looked like something out of a space ship but, on closer inspection, everything had the normal function, it was just the mounts that made them different.

All the time we chatted and he told me that he was not a driver himself, but the painter. I congratulated him on his work. He told me that his father had started the company and he, Greger, now did the artwork and there was a repair business on the side.

I got him to take a picture on my phone of me in the cab and also of me besides the two trucks. I also took one of him to send to my father, maybe they had met sometime.

The next truck was a huge Scania with a double trailer, the whole rig in a vivid lilac with pictures of dancing girls all the way along. It was called ‘Sinuous’ and would, undoubtedly, feature in the winners.

As we went by it he said “Anton, I’ve been very happy to talk to you this morning. I haven’t chatted with another enthusiast like this in months. The next truck is also mine and, when you see the picture on it, you’ll see why I feel worried about your reaction.”

When we got around the Scania I saw what he was talking about and burst out laughing. The truck was a FHXL Globetrotter 10 x 4. This one had dual front axle steering with three axles on the back.

Unlike our tractor version, this was a full-length flat-bed with mounting spikes for the smaller containers. This model could carry quite a few tonnes without a trailer.

What made me laugh was the picture painted on the cab. If my sister had been here she would have fainted as it was her to a tee.

The paint job was eye-watering red and when I opened the cab door it was all white leather inside. It just about made you go dizzy. The girl in the painting was looking forward, with outstretched arms and wearing a red dress that merged with the paintwork at waist level. Her head was surrounded in a halo of gold. It was very striking as well as being very beautiful.

The name on the side was Antonias Sver, or Antonia’s Answer.

Greger was very quiet and then said, “This was to be a surprise for my girlfriend. I planned to ask her to marry me at my last birthday party. I was going to paint Ja on the front but, instead, she turned up with a driver from another company and left early with him. I was devastated and humiliated in public and it’s been a while since I have talked to someone so much.”

I looked at him, “I’m sure you’ll find another to take her place. Is the picture an accurate one of her?”

He laughed, “No, she was a bit plainer than that. It was meant to be a compliment. You look more like the picture than she did.”

That comment made me stop dead in my tracks. He blushed and apologised for the remark and I said that it didn’t matter as I had often been mistaken for my sister and, for once, realised that it was a real compliment to me and I liked it.

I pulled my phone out of the back-pack again and showed him the photo I had taken of my mother and sister together. He asked me to take down my pony-tail and fluff my hair out like my sister in the picture and then I stood beside the painting and he took a picture on his phone as well as a couple for me on mine.

What was odd was that suddenly there were a dozen or more guys taking pictures of me by the truck. That was weird!!!

One guy called something out in Estonian and all I caught was ‘Antonia’. I asked Greger what he had said.

He took a deep breath before saying “He asked you what your answer was.”

Trying to defuse the moment, “Tell him it was - maybe.”

He relayed this to the guys and there was a general laugh and most of them wandered off.

One guy, with a proper set of camera gear around his neck, came over and said “Greger Lundin, I believe, I’m Hendrick Kask.”

They shook hands and the man then said “You may have read my stories in the Truck World magazine. I would like to do one on you and your company as well as some of your artwork. It’s something that’s been on the back of my mind but seeing you here, today, and with the model for your latest creation, has given me an idea for a centrepiece article. Can we talk later and make some appointments?”

He offered his card and Greger gave him one back. Hendrick asked me to stand right next to the painting and took a few more photos. I was too surprised to be anything but helpful.

“Thank you, Antonia; even without make-up you look great. I hope to see you at the photo shoot for the article, this time looking even more beautiful than the painting.”

He walked away and I looked at Greger.

“What am I going to do now?” I asked, “The guy obviously thought I was a girl and wants me in a photo shoot. I just came to Tallinn to see this show and was thinking about heading back to Stockholm to find a job.”

“Why don’t you stay and drive this truck for me?”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, you have the licence and you have the skills to keep it on the go. You have the knowledge to do your own servicing. It’s a no-brainer. With the work we can get for this truck you hardly have to get out of the cab. At the docks they drop a container on and you lock it from inside the cab. Then all you do is transport the load to where it needs to be unloaded and that’s done by a mobile lifter.”

He smiled, “Even a girl can do it if she was qualified.”

I got caught up in his smile, “You’re so wicked. Thank you for the offer; I will let you know a little later on.”

We strolled and looked at other trucks before he led me to the food area. He asked me what I wanted for lunch and I said that a burger would be all right with a soft drink.

He pointed out a spare table so I went and sat down while he got our food. I rang my mother after sending her a picture of me by the truck.

When she answered she had lots of questions about me looking like my sister so I explained how the photo had got taken. I told her that the owner of the truck had asked me to work for him as a driver and she said to go with it as it could be my big chance to get a regular job.

She also told me that my sister was likely to be around for longer than first thought as her husband had filed papers for desertion.

I then told her that a magazine wanted to do a centre spread of the truck with me as a model and the photographer had thought I was a girl.

She just said, “So are both your sister and I, and it hasn’t done us any harm. Go with it, daughter Antonia, and get some fun out of it while you can.”

At that moment Greger came up behind me and put my lunch on the table.

My mother asked “Is that hunk the owner of the truck?”

When I said “Yes” she said, “Let me speak to him.”

I passed the phone to Greger, “My mother wants to grill you about your evil intentions.”

He took the phone and they had a discussion about his job offer and I discovered that he had heard of Mats Berg and said that if I had half the work ethic of my father I would be a good asset to his company.

So, over lunch, we agreed that I would drive and help maintain 'Antonia’s Answer' for him as well as helping out with the maintenance of the rest of his fleet.

Marianne Gregory (C) 2022