З життя
Святкування дня народження чоловіка з вечерею, яке закінчилося несподіванкою
Валерія поверталася з чоловіком з ресторану, де вони святкували його день народження. Посиділи чудово. Багато гостей, родичі, колеги. Багатьох Валерія бачила вперше, але якщо Євген запросив їх, значить так треба.
Валерія не з тих, хто обговорює рішення чоловіка, вона не любила сварки і з’ясування стосунків. Їй було простіше погодитися з Євгеном, ніж доводити свою правоту.
– Валеріє, ти не надто далеко поклала ключі від квартири? Зможеш дістати?
Валерія відкрила сумочку, намагаючись намацати в ній ключі. Тут раптом різкий біль, вона так смикнула рукою, що сумочка впала на підлогу.
– Що сталося?
– Укололася об щось.
– У твоїй сумочці хоч чорт ногу зломить, нічого дивного.
Валерія не стала сперечатися з чоловіком, підняла сумку, обережно дістала ключі. Вони зайшли до квартири, і вона вже забула про те, що укололася. Від втоми ноги боліли, хотілося прийняти душ і впасти в ліжко. Прокинувшись вранці, вона відчула різкий біль у руці, палець почервонів і набряк. І тут вона згадала події минулого вечора, взяла сумку, щоб подивитися, що всередині. Обережно дістаючи речі, вона побачила на дні сумки велику іржаву голку.
– Що це?
Вона не розуміла, як це могло тут опинитися. Вона взяла цю дивну знахідку і викинула в сміттєве відро. Потім пішла за аптечкою, щоб обробити місце уколу. Перебинтувавши почервонілий палець, Валерія вирушила на роботу. Але вже до обіду вона зрозуміла, що в неї піднялася температура.
Вона зателефонувала чоловікові:
– Євген, не знаю, що робити. Напевно, вчора підхопила якусь заразу. Температура, голова болить, все тіло ломить. Уяви собі, я у себе в сумці знайшла велику іржаву голку, саме об неї я вчора вкололася.
– Може, тобі краще звернутися до лікаря, не дай Боже правця або зараження крові.
– Євген, не накручуй. Я обробила ранку, все буде добре.
Але не те що з кожним днем, з кожною годиною Валерії ставало гірше. Ледве додождавшись кінця робочого дня, Валерія викликала таксі і поїхала додому. Розуміла, що дорогу додому на громадському транспорті вона просто не подужає. Приїхавши додому, вона впала на диван і провалилася в сон.
Їй наснилась бабуся Ганна, яка померла, коли Валерія була ще зовсім маленькою. Звідки Валерія знала, що це бабуся Ганна, вона не знала, але знала, що це вона. Бабуся була старенькою, згорбленою. Її вигляд налякав би багатьох, але Валерія відчувала, що бабуся хоче їй допомогти.
Бабуся вела Валерію полем, показувала, які трави потрібно зібрати, казала, що потрібно зробити настій і цей настій потрібно пити, щоб очистити тіло від черні, яка його пожирає. Вона сказала, що є та, яка бажає їй зла. Але щоб з нею боротися, треба залишитись живою. Часу в Валерії зовсім мало.
Валерія прокинулася в холодному поту. Їй здалося, що вона спала дуже довго, але подивившись на годинник, зрозуміла, що минуло всього кілька хвилин. Вона почула, як грюкнула вхідні двері, прийшов Євген. Дівчина сповзла з дивану і вийшла в коридор. Євген, побачивши її, ахнув:
– Що з тобою? Подивися на себе в дзеркало.
Валерія підійшла до дзеркала. Ще вчора вона бачила в відображенні красиву, усміхнену дівчину. А зараз в дзеркалі вона бачила себе, але не впізнавала. Волосся висіло патлами, синці під очима, сіре обличчя, порожній погляд.
– Що це за нісенітниця?
І тут Валерія згадала сон. Вона сказала чоловікові:
– Бачила у сні бабусю. Вона сказала, що мені робити…
– Валеріє, одягайся, ми їдемо до лікарні.
– Я нікуди не поїду, бабуся сказала, що лікарі мені не допоможуть.
Вдома стався справжній скандал. Євген називав дружину божевільною, якій в маренні наснилась якась бабця.
Вперше вони дуже посварилися. Євген навіть хотів застосувати силу, схопив дружину за руку і потягнув до виходу.
– Не хочеш добровільно їхати до лікарні — повезу тебе силою.
Але Валерія вирвала руку, не втрималася на ногах, упала, вдарившись об кут. Євген ще більше розлютився на це, схопив сумку, грюкнув дверима і пішов. Все, що Валерія змогла зробити, — це написати начальнику, сказати, що підхопила вірус і буде змушена залишитися вдома на кілька днів.
Євген прийшов додому ближче до півночі, просив у дружини вибачення, все, що вона сказала:
– Звезеш мене завтра в село, де жила моя бабуся.
Вранці Валерія була більше схожа на живий труп, аніж на молоду здорову дівчину. Євген продовжував благати:
– Валеріє, не дурій, поїхали до лікарні. Я не хочу тебе втратити.
Але вони поїхали в село. Все, що пам’ятала Валерія, так це назву села. Вона там не була з тих пір, як батьки продали бабусину хату після її смерті. Увесь шлях Валерія спала. Вона навіть не розуміла, на яке поле їм їхати, але, під’їжджаючи до села, вона прокинулась і сказала чоловіку:
– Нам туди.
Вона якось вийшла з машини, від безсилля впала на траву. Але вона знала, що вона там, куди приводила її баба Ганна. Вона знайшла трави, які у сні показала їй бабуся, і вони поїхали додому. Євген приготував їй відвар, зробив усе так, як вона й говорила. Валерія почала пити відвар малими ковтками, але з кожним ковтком їй наче ставало легше.
Вона з труднощами дісталася до туалету, коли встала з унітазу, то побачила, що її сеча чорного кольору. Але це її не налякало, скоріше навпаки, вона повторила слова бабусі:
– Чорне виходить…
Цієї ночі у сні до Валерії знову прийшла бабуся. Вона стояла й усміхалася. Потім почала говорити.
– На тебе, внученько, порчу наслали через іржаву голку. Мій відвар поверне тобі сили, але це ненадовго. Тобі потрібно знайти того, хто це зробив і його ж зло повернути йому. Я не знаю, хто це зробив. Не бачу. Але з усім цим якось пов’язаний твій чоловік. Якби ти не викинула ту голку, через яку це все зроблено, я могла б сказати більше. Але…
Ми вчинимо так. Підеш у магазин, купиш упаковку голок, над найбільшою скажеш ось це замовляння: “Духи нічні, колись живі! Почуйте мене, привиди ночі, правду пророчте. Оточіть мене! Вкажіть, допоможіть, ворога мого знайдіть…”. Голку цю покладеш у сумку чоловіка. Той, хто зробив на тебе порчу, вколеться об твою голку. Тоді ми дізнаємось його ім’я і зможемо його ж зло йому повернути.
Бабуся, сказавши це, розвіялася, наче в тумані.
Валерія прокинулася. Вона все ще жахливо почувалася, але знала, що обов’язково одужає. Знала, що бабуся їй допоможе.
Євген вирішив залишитися вдома, щоби побути з дружиною, доглянути її. Яке ж було його здивування, коли вона зібралася в магазин, при цьому сказала, що їй потрібно піти одній:
– Валеріє, не дурій, ти ледь на ногах стоїш. Давай я піду з тобою.
– Євгене, зготуй мені супчик, у мене після цього вірусу жахливий апетит прокинувся.
Валерія зробила все так, як у сні сказала їй бабуся. Вже ввечері заговорена голка лежала у Євгена в сумці. Він спитав у Валерії перед сном:
– Ти впевнена, що сама впораєшся? Може, мені все ще залишитися з тобою?
– Я впораюся.
Валерії ставало легше, але вона знала, що зло все ще всередині неї, вона відчувала, як воно ходить у її тілі, наче по власному дому, отруюючи її. Але відвар, який вона приймала вже третій день, був як протиотрута. Вона відчувала, як ця протиотрута не подобалася тому, що в ній сиділо.
Вона з нетерпінням чекала, коли Євген повернеться з роботи. Вона зустрічала його на порозі. Першим питанням було:
– Як пройшов твій день?
– Все добре, а чому ти питаєш?
Валерія вже було подумала, що той, хто навів на неї порчу, поки не з’явився, як Євген обернувся й додав:
– Валеріє, уявляєш, сьогодні Ірина із сусіднього відділу вирішила мені допомогти, дістати з моєї сумки ключі від кабінету. У мене руки були зайняті папками з документами. Так от, вона сунула руку в сумку й натрапила там на голку. Звідки в моїй сумці голки? Вона на мене так зло подивилася, думав, що вб’є поглядом.
– А що у тебе з цією Іриною?
– Валерочка, кинь. Я люблю тільки тебе. Мені не Ірина, не Марина, ніхто, крім тебе, не потрібен.
– Вона була на святкуванні твого дня народження в ресторані?
– Була, вона моя хороша колега, але не більше.
У Валерії ніби пазл склався після цих слів. Тепер вона зрозуміла, як стара іржава голка потрапила їй у сумку.
Євген пішов на кухню, де його чекав вечір.
Щойно Валерія заснула, вона знову побачила бабусю. Та сказала, що їй робити, як повернути Ірині все те зло, яке вона хотіла заподіяти Валерії. Бабуся сказала, що їй тепер все ясно. Ірина хотіла за допомогою магії позбутися суперниці, а потім зайняти її місце поруч з Євгеном. Якби їй це не вдавалося зробити природним шляхом, вона б знову вдалася до магії. Ця жінка не перед чим не зупинилася б.
Валерія зробила все, як її навчила бабуся. Незабаром Євген сказав, що Ірина пішла на лікарняний, що їй зовсім погано, лікарі нібито розводять руками.
Валерія попросила чоловіка звозити її на вихідних у село, де колись жила бабуся, на кладовище, на якому Валерія не була з дня похорону. Вона купила букет квітів, взяла рукавички, щоб прополоти могилку від старої трави. Вона з трудом знайшла могилу баби Ганни. Коли вона підійшла до могили, то побачила на пам’ятнику фотографію, саме вона приходила до неї у сні, саме вона врятувала її від смерті. Валерія привела у порядок могилу бабусі, поставила квіти в пляшку з водою. Вона сіла на лавочку і сказала:
– Бабусю, вибач, що я не приходила раніше. Вважала, що батьки приїжджають до тебе раз на рік і цього достатньо. Але я була не права. Тепер я теж буду приїжджати. Якби не ти, то, мабуть, мене вже б не було.
Тут Валерія відчула, що ніби бабуся поклала їй руки на плечі. Валерія обернулася, але там нікого не було, тільки легенький вітерець…
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Don’t waste your time.” “I’m going to revive her,” I insisted. “A bit of love and care, and you’ll see—she’ll be in bloom again.” He winked: “Who can refuse love?” A week later, Kate rang: “Polly, can I come round? I can’t keep this burden inside. I want to tell you everything about Dennis’ disastrous marriage.” “Come right over, Kate. I’m here.” I couldn’t turn her down. She’d been my rock through my first painful divorce—and when things were rocky with my second husband too. We’d been friends forever. Kate arrived an hour later. She settled in the kitchen, and over a glass of dry wine, a cup of strong coffee, and some dark chocolate, the story spilled out. “I never imagined my ex-daughter-in-law was capable of such a thing. Dennis and Tanya were together for seven years before marrying. Dennis left Annie for Tanya—and I loved Annie, so homely and warm, I called her daughter. Then this dazzling beauty Tanya swept in. Dennis was besotted—hovering around her like a bee around a blossom. Love at first sight, absolutely scorching. He pushed Annie aside in a heartbeat. “Yes, Tanya had model looks. Dennis loved when his mates gawped and passers-by turned heads. Yet, no child in seven years. I thought maybe Dennis wanted everything proper—wedded first, then kids. He’s private, never confided much, and we didn’t meddle. “One day he just told us: “‘Mum, Dad, I’m marrying Tanya. We’ve given notice at the registry office. No expense spared—a wedding to remember.’ “We were thrilled—Dennis was thirty, finally settling down. But the wedding date shifted—he was unwell, then I got held up at work. I got a bad feeling, but I saw his happiness and kept silent. “Dennis even wanted a church blessing, but the priest was away. Nothing was going right. Everything was a sign… “Still, we had a big, noisy wedding. Look—here’s the photo. See that orchid? Blooming, magnificent. Its leaves stood tall. Now, they’re just limp rags. “Dennis and Tanya planned a Paris honeymoon, but there was a hitch—Tanya wasn’t allowed to leave the country. Some massive unpaid fine. They were turned away at the airport. Dennis ignored the strings of bad luck, lost in dreams of family life. “But then he got seriously ill—hospitalised. The doctors had little hope. Tanya stuck around for a week, then said: “‘I’m sorry, but I can’t cope with a disabled husband. I’m filing for divorce.’ “Imagine, Polly, what Dennis felt lying there? Still, he replied: “‘I understand, Tanya. I won’t stand in your way.’ “So, they divorced. “But Dennis recovered. We found him a brilliant doctor, who pulled him through in half a year—said Dennis was young enough to bounce back. Our family grew close to the doctor, Peter, who had a lovely twenty-year-old daughter, Masha. Dennis barely paid attention to her: “‘She’s tiny. Not even pretty.’ “‘Give her a chance, son. Looks aren’t everything. You’ve tried the model wife—now, perhaps, try joy over glamour.’ “He couldn’t forget Tanya’s betrayal, yet Masha adored Dennis from the start—she followed him everywhere, phoned him constantly. “We tried matchmaking with a trip in the countryside. Dennis sulked the whole time, nothing cheered him up—campfire, barbeque, our laughter—nothing. Masha followed him with puppy eyes, but he barely glanced at her. “‘It’s hopeless,’ I sighed to my husband. ‘Dennis still loves Tanya. She’s a splinter in his heart.’ “A few months later, Dennis showed up at the door with the infamous orchid: “‘Here, Mum—the last relic of past happiness. Do what you want with it. I don’t want this exotic reminder.’ “I begrudgingly accepted the orchid and took a dislike to it—almost as if I blamed it for my son’s pain. I shoved it out of sight, neglected it. “Then I ran into a neighbour: “‘Kate, I saw your Dennis with a pixie-like girl. His first wife was far more striking, though…’ “I didn’t believe it—could Dennis really be dating Masha? “‘Meet my wife, Masha,’ Dennis introduced her, cradling her hand. “My husband and I exchanged glances. “‘But what about a wedding? Guests?’ “‘No need for a fuss—we’ve done all that. Registered at the town hall, quiet and simple. Father Peter gave us a church blessing. Masha and I are forever.’ “I pulled Dennis aside: “‘Do you actually love her? Please don’t hurt Masha—or marry just to spite Tanya.’ “‘No, Mum, I’m not taking revenge. I’m over that woman,’ he said—he’d stopped calling Tanya by name. ‘As for love… Masha and I just fit perfectly together.’ “That’s my story, Polly.” Kate finally unburdened her heart. …After this heartfelt chat, two years rushed by, life got busy. But the orchid revived and bloomed—they really do respond to love. When I met Kate again, it was at the maternity ward: “Hey, mate, what are you doing here?” “Masha’s had twins. They’re being discharged today,” Kate grinned. At the entrance stood Dennis and Kate’s husband, Dennis clutching a bouquet of red roses. Out came a tired but glowing Masha, followed by the nurse gently carrying two tiny, sleeping bundles. My own daughter was there, snuggling her newborn. Tanya is now begging Dennis for forgiveness and to try again… But you can glue a broken cup, though you’ll never drink from it the same way again…
IS THE ORCHID TO BLAME? Polly, take this orchid away or Ill chuck it out, Kate announced, carelessly lifting the...
Fate on a Hospital Bed – “Young Lady, You Look After Him! I’m Too Scared to Even Feed Him with a Spoon,” She Snapped, Tossing Grocery Bags onto the Bed Where Her Sick Husband Lay. “Please Don’t Worry! Your Husband Will Recover. He Needs Careful Nursing Now. I’ll Help Dmitry Get Back on His Feet,” I, as the nurse, had to reassure the tuberculosis patient’s wife yet again. Dmitry arrived in critical condition, but his will to live gave him good odds. Sadly, his wife Alla didn’t believe in medicine. It seemed she’d given up on him already… Years later, the same fate befell their son Yura. Alla gave up on him too – but Yura survived. Despite his diagnosis, Dmitry joked and laughed, eager to leave the TB ward. His village lacked any specialist hospital, so Alla rarely visited. I felt sorry for him – so unkempt, so abandoned… “Dima, do you mind if I bring you some things? I see you don’t even have slippers,” I teased. “Violetta, I’d swallow poison from you if you said it was medicine. But no, just let me get well first…” My heart fluttered. Was I falling for a married man? I tried not to. But you can’t command the heart… I visited Dima more often. Our talks grew deep; we switched to first names. He had a five-year-old son. “My Yura takes after his beautiful mum… I loved Alla – but she only loves herself. It eats you up… now it’s you caring for me, a stranger,” he sighed. I tried to make excuses for Alla. He shook his head. “A wife can find time for her lovers a hundred miles away—but not for me.” After a fight, Alla vanished. A month passed. Dima told me quietly, “We’re divorcing.” When he was discharged, he asked shyly to stay with me, and I agreed—if he’d accept my child too. He did—and so began our life together. Years passed. We had two children together. His son Yura visits often. My own daughter lives far away; I never regretted being a single mother. As for Alla: she remarried many times, had another son who suffered from mental illness. She remained cold and distant, and when she died, her son was sent to a care home. Now Dima and I are old, but love each other more than ever, grateful for every day together.
FATE ON A HOSPITAL BED Tuesday Ill never get used to certain moments in the ward. Today, Mrs. Parker burst...
I’ve Never Taken What Belongs to Someone Else Once, while still at school, Martha both despised and envied Nastya. She looked down on Nastya because her parents were hopelessly alcoholic, scraping by on odd jobs and living hand-to-mouth. Nastya always wore shabby clothes, seemed half-starved and downtrodden. Her father often hit her—sometimes for drinking too little, sometimes for drinking too much, sometimes for no clear reason at all. Nastya’s mother never stood up for her, too afraid of her husband’s heavy hand. Only her devoted grandmother brought any light to Nastya’s world. Once a month, from her modest pension, Grandma would give her beloved granddaughter a “salary” for good behaviour. Even if Nastya misbehaved, Grandma would always pretend not to notice and hand over her pay anyway—five roubles! For Nastya, that was the happiest day of the month. She’d rush to the shop and buy ice cream (one for herself, one for Grandma), halvah, and a few sweets. Every time, Nastya tried to make the treats last all month—but after two days, they’d always be gone. Then, as if on cue, Grandma would get her own ice cream from the fridge and say, “Here, sweetheart, eat this. My throat is sore today.” “How odd,” Nastya thought, “Grandma’s throat always seems to start hurting the day my sweets run out…” She secretly always hoped to get a share of Grandma’s portion. Martha’s family was the complete opposite. Their home was overflowing with comfort. Her parents earned good money and pampered their only daughter. Martha was always dressed in the latest fashions, and her classmates sometimes borrowed her things. She was never denied anything—well-fed, well-dressed, and shod in the best shoes. Yet Martha envied her classmate’s enchanting beauty, the warmth that radiated from Nastya, and her natural ability to get along with everyone. Martha, however, considered herself above even talking to Nastya. Whenever they crossed paths, Martha would glare at her so coldly, it felt to Nastya as if she’d been doused in ice water. Once, Martha insulted her in front of everyone: “You’re pathetic!” Nastya ran home in tears and told her grandmother. Grandma sat her down, stroked her hair and said, “Don’t cry, Nastya. Tomorrow, tell her, ‘You’re right—I belong to God!’” Nastya felt better right away. Martha was beautiful herself, but her beauty came with an air of coldness and distance. Then there was Max, the class heartthrob—carefree, always joking, not bothered by failing grades or scoldings from teachers. His outlook was sunny, and his optimism infectious; even the teachers liked him, despite his troublemaking ways. In their final years at school, Max began escorting Martha home after lessons and waiting for her at the school gate in the morning. Their classmates teased: “Here come the bride and groom!” Even the teachers noticed the blossoming romance between Max and Martha. Eventually, the final bell rang, prom night passed, and the classmates went their separate ways. Max and Martha married in a hurry—the “evidence of love” couldn’t be concealed, not even by Martha’s elaborate wedding dress. Within five months, she gave birth to a daughter, Sofia. After school, Nastya was forced to get a job. Her beloved grandmother had passed away, and now her parents depended on Nastya’s income. She had plenty of admirers, but none touched her soul, and she was ashamed of her alcoholic family. A decade slipped by… One day, in the waiting room at the addiction clinic, there were two pairs: Nastya with her mum, Max with Martha. Nastya immediately recognized Max—he was now an impressive man, but Martha was nearly unrecognizable: gaunt, hands shaking, dead-eyed, only 28 but looking much older. Max greeted Nastya, embarrassed. “Hello, classmate,” he said, not wanting Nastya to witness his family’s misery. “Hello, Max. Looks like trouble at home. Has it been going on for long?” Nastya asked quickly. “A while,” he confessed, awkwardly. “A woman who drinks—it’s a disaster. I know from my mum. My father literally drank himself to death,” Nastya sympathized. After the appointments, Max and Nastya exchanged numbers for support. Misery loves company, and Max started visiting Nastya for advice. She shared her hard-earned wisdom about living with alcoholics, what treatments worked, and what absolutely didn’t. She knew, as so many drowned in the bottle, it wasn’t always obvious from the surface… Max confided that he and his daughter Sofia had long lived alone—Martha had returned to her parents’ home. Max had shielded Sofia from her unpredictable mother. The breaking point was when Max came home to find Martha drunk on the floor and three-year-old Sofia teetering on the windowsill, poised to fall from the fifth floor. After that, Max took no more chances. Martha refused help, convinced she could stop anytime. She was drawn to the abyss—and wanted to fall as far as possible. Their marriage ended. Later, Max invited Nastya to a restaurant and confessed: he’d loved her since their schooldays, but was too afraid of rejection, then Martha had become pregnant… Life tumbled on. Meeting at the clinic had seemed like fate. Chatting with Nastya was like a soothing balm. Max proposed marriage, and after all these years, Nastya was finally ready to accept his love—especially now that Martha was out of the picture. Nastya and Max married quietly, and she moved in with him. At first, Sofia was wary of sharing her father’s love, but Nastya’s kindness soon melted her heart, and before long, Sofia started calling her “mum.” A few years later, Sofia gained a little sister, Molly. One day, their doorbell rang. Nastya opened it to find—Martha, utterly changed, reeked of alcohol, a living warning. “You snake! You stole my husband, my daughter! No wonder I’ve hated you all my life!” Martha hissed. Nastya stood calm, confident, beautiful. “I have never taken what was not mine. You gave up your family by choice, never understanding why. I have never uttered a bad word about you. I truly pity you, Martha…” With that, Nastya closed the door on her uninvited guest.
NEVER TOOK WHAT WASNT MINE Even back in school, Martha looked down on Nancy yet couldnt help but envy her....