З життя
ПОДОРОЖ ДУШІ
ПЕРЕСЕЛЕННЯ ДУШ.
Олександра не могла цього пояснити, але їй здавалося, що в цю дівчинку вселилася душа її матері. Взагалі, вона не вірила в різні містичні речі, але тут стільки збігів, що, хочеш вір, хочеш – ні.
Дівчинка народилася через вісім місяців після смерті матері – а що, поблукала душа там, де потрібно, і повернулася на грішну землю, чому б і ні? Хоча сам по собі факт народження нічого не означав, якби не те, що вона народилася в день народження матері, рівно через сорок шість років.
Збіги на цьому не закінчувалися. Взагалі, Олександру найняли до дівчинки нянею. Це була її друга робота няні – вперше її взяли до молодшої сестри однокласниці, а тепер сюди. Олександра не збиралася все життя працювати нянею, вона планувала стати психологом, але з першої спроби не вступила, і з другої теж трохи не вистачило. З третього разу точно вдасться. Працювати продавчинею або офіціанткою не хотілося, а няня – це ж не робота, а суцільне задоволення. Завдяки блискучій рекомендації, ця молода жінка погодилася взяти Олександру, правда, з випробувальним терміном, а Олександра чесно зізналася, що через рік планує вступати до університету. Мати дівчинки, Галина, була років на п’ять старша за Олександру і одразу запропонувала перейти на “ти”.
– Ну ось і добре, все одно Анюта вже в спеціальний садок піде, – заспокоїла її Галина. – Вона така розвинута, давно могла б піти, але я все переживаю, ще й заняття в неї спеціальні кожен день. У неї є особливість – я поки тобі не говорила, сподіваюся, це не буде проблемою, бо багато нянь лякаються статусу дитини з інвалідністю або просять гонорар, який я не можу собі дозволити.
Олександра вже уявляла собі щось страшне, наприклад, що у дівчинки розщеплення піднебіння і вона чекає на операцію, або, можливо, у неї епілепсія.
– У Ані нейросенсорна туговухість, це спадкове захворювання…
Олександра навіть посміхнулася і перебила її:
– Можеш не говорити, я знаю, що це, у нас в родині це теж зустрічалося.
– Я тому тебе і запросила, наша спільна знайома казала, що твоя мама теж цим страждала, тож ти не злякаєшся.
Олександра не злякалася, та й нічого складного в цьому не було – сучасні апарати дозволяли практично повністю відновлювати слух, мамі було набагато важче, з нею вони спілкувалися жестовою мовою. Останнім збігом було те, що дівчинка виглядала дуже схоже – такі ж темні очі, брови, з піднятим кінчиком, наче вона завжди здивована, кучеряве неслухняне волосся. Олександра навіть пішла до батька і попросила мамині старі альбоми – ну точно, дівчинка була вилитою мамою в дитинстві! Коли вона сказала про це батькові, він тільки пожурив її:
– Малече, ти просто сумуєш за мамою. Ну що за містичні вигадки? Тобі терміново потрібно своїх дітей народжувати!
Олександра засоромилася – насправді, вона на підготовчих курсах познайомилася з хлопцем на ім’я Костянтин, і вже тричі ходила з ним на побачення. Але про дітей говорити було рано. Батько, очевидно, все зрозумів з її рожевих щік.
– Ти запитала, у нього в родині не було туговухості?
– Ну тату!
Батьки з дитинства діставали їх цим питанням – і її, і брата переконували, що ще на стадії знайомства потрібно дізнаватися у потенційних суджених, чи немає у них носійства рецесивного гена, який призводить до туговухості, бо і Олександра, і її брат Андрій, були носіями цього гена.
– Що тато…?! – за питання грошей не беруть.
Довелося ретируватися швидше.
То чи від того, що вона вигадала це переселення душ, чи дійсно дівчинка була розвинутою і славною, але Олександра до неї дуже прив’язалася і не хотіла навіть думати про те, що доведеться розлучатися. Може, тато правий, і їй пора заводити своїх дітей? Але вона була так молода, мріяла отримати освіту… Якось так вийшло, що вона заговорила про це з Галиною, яка цілими днями пропадала на роботі, щоб забезпечити дочці та собі нормальне життя.
– Тобі треба вчитися! – наполягала Галина. – От мені довелося кинути інститут через вагітність, так тепер вище певної посади не можу піднятися, так прикро – і досвіду у мене більше, і знань, а беруть якогось новоспеченого випускника вузу, який тільки і вміє перекладати папірці.
– А батько дитини? – обережно запитала Олександра. Жодного разу за чотири місяці, що вона працювала нянею, тато доньки не з’являвся на горизонті.
– Немає його, – відповіла Галина.
– Як це немає?
– А ось так. Він навіть не знає, що у нього є донька. Ми в іншому місті познайомилися, я до подруги приїхала на тиждень, зустріла його в барі. Це було кохання з першого погляду! Ми домовилися зустрітися найближчим часом – або він до мене прилетить, або я до нього. Але не вийшло – він розлучився зі мною по електронній пошті – мовляв, пробач, ми не зможемо бути разом, ти заслуговуєш кращого і все в такому дусі.
– Жах… І ти що, не знала, що вагітна?
– Не знала. Дізналася через тиждень. Ну і вирішила народжувати, – усміхнулася Галина. – Жодного разу не пошкодувала.
– Так, Анюта чудова. Вона так нагадує мені мою маму, – зізналася раптом Олександра.
Галина розсміялася.
– У вас з Анею кармічний зв’язок, я давно помітила.
– Оце я татові про це сказала, а він мені висміяв. Сказав, мені своїх дітей треба.
– Давай-но спочатку вчись, а потім уже діти, – нагадала Галина. – А то будеш як я.
На Новий рік Олександра разом з батьком зібралася летіти до брата в сусіднє місто – той очолював відділ у туристичній фірмі і не міг надовго від’їжджати. Олександра була у брата в гостях лише раз, і їй там дуже сподобалося – у нього була розкішна квартира на п’ятнадцятому поверсі, з якої відкривався чудовий вид. Вона заздалегідь купила Ані подарунок – довго шукала ведмедика, схожого на того, який був у мами, і знайшла. Дівчинці сподобався ведмедик, і вона повідомила, що буде з ним спати.
Вже сидячи на затишній кухні брата і ведучи неспішні розмови, Олександра отримала повідомлення від Галини, в якому Анюта солодко спала, пригортаючи до себе плюшевого ведмедика. Олександра навіть просльозилася і показала фотографію Андрію, розповівши всю історію про кармічний зв’язок і переселення душ.
– Олександр, ну ти серйозно? Яке переселення душ?
– Та ти послухай – Аня навіть на свою матір менше схожа, ніж на нашу! Ось, подивися.
Вона знайшла в телефоні селфі, яке вони зробили напередодні – вона, Аня і Галина, і простягнула його брату. Той довго дивився на фотографію, потім спитав іншим голосом:
– А як її звати?
– Аня, я ж сказала. Ну так, не як нашу маму.
– Та ні. Дівчину.
– Галина. А що?
Брат ковтнув.
– А у Ані… У неї все гаразд зі слухом?
– Дякую, я тут півгодини про що розказую? Я ж сказала – у дівчинки слуховий апарат! Навіть в цьому схожість! У тата Галини те саме захворювання, що у нашої мами, тут, звісно, не переселення душ, а гени, але ти подумай…
Брат підскочив і заметушився по кімнаті.
– Скільки їй років? Коли вона народилася?
– Чому ти питаєш? – почала було Олександра, а потім жахнулася, прикрила долоньками рот. Жалібно, боячись злякати свою здогадку, вона прошепотіла. – Галина каже, що він кинув її по електронній пошті і нічого не знав про дитину. Так це був ти???
Наступного дня вони всі втрьох летіли назад, чудом вхопивши останні квитки. Батько витер сльози, переглядаючи фото новообретеної онуки, Андрій кусав губи, зовсім як у дитинстві, знову і знову розпитуючи Олександру про Галину та Аню. Олександра була єдиною, хто зберігав спокій – вона знала, все буде добре. І переселення душ все одно ніхто не відміняв.
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IS IT REALLY THE ORCHID’S FAULT? “Polly, take this orchid or I’ll bin it,” Kate muttered, scooping the transparent pot off the windowsill and thrusting it into my hands. “Thanks, mate! But what did this orchid ever do to upset you?” I was puzzled. There were still three gorgeous, pampered orchids on her windowsill. “That flower was a wedding gift for my son. And, well, you know how that turned out…” Kate sighed heavily. “I know your Dennis and Tanya divorced before their first anniversary. I won’t ask why—it must have been serious. Dennis absolutely adored Tanya.” I didn’t want to reopen an old wound. “Someday I’ll tell you the whole story, Polly. For now, it’s too much to remember,” Kate mused, dabbing her eyes. I brought the “rejected” and “banished” orchid home. My husband looked at the pitiful specimen and said, “Why bother with that runt? Even I can see there’s no life left in it. 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....