З життя
Безсонна ніч: раптове пробудження через хропіння
На майже всю ніч Олена не могла заснути. Вночі о другій її чоловік боляче штовхнув її ліктем у бік і роздратовано сказав: – Перестань хропіти, скільки можна!
Так, Олена часом починала хропіти, коли спала на спині, але раніше чоловік обережно перевертав її на бік. Тепер же він гучно висловлює своє незадоволення і штовхає її грубо, але спокійно засинає після цього. А Олена бере заспокійливі таблетки і не може заснути до самого ранку.
Олена і Віталій одружені 27 років. Два роки тому у них було срібне весілля. Вони його не святкували. Щиро кажучи, Віталій забув про таку важливу дату. Він якраз купив нове авто, був задоволений і приділяв йому всю свою увагу. Старий автомобіль дістався синові.
Взагалі, подружжя збирало гроші на квартиру для сина. У нього з’явилася дівчина. Але… батько з сином вирішили, що треба купувати авто, які швидко дорожчають, а син зі своєю дівчиною зможуть поки жити в його кімнаті. З Оленою ніхто не радився, хоча більша частина грошей була її, вона заробляла більше за чоловіка.
Після купівлі нового авто вона почала відкладати гроші на свій рахунок, а не на їхній спільний. Чоловік спочатку обурився.
Олена пояснила, що більше не довіряє їм, бо вони можуть купити ще і третє авто, – Будь ласка, відкладай свої гроші на свій рахунок, яка проблема?
– Ти ж знаєш, що в мене зарплата невелика, що я можу відкласти?
У Олени була вища освіта. Вона з подругою Наталею приїхала з маленького містечка в обласний центр вступати до педагогічного університету. Дівчата без проблем вступили й успішно закінчили його.
Наталя попрацювала в школі один навчальний рік і пішла. Вона закінчила курси перукарів, пройшла платну спеціалізацію у Києві у відомого майстра та відкрила свою перукарню. У неї були заможні батьки.
Олена затрималася в школі ще на якийсь час. Вона працювала перший рік, коли познайомилася з Віталієм. Олена проводила екскурсію для учнів випускного класу в індустріально-металургійному технікумі. Віталій працював там майстром виробничого навчання. Він був молодим, високим, чарівним чоловіком із гарним почуттям гумору. Майстер так захопливо розповідав про професію зварювальника, що навіть молода вчителька заслухалася.
– Я не думала, що так цікаво можна розповісти про таку звичайну професію, – сказала вона йому після екскурсії.
Віталію теж сподобалася молода, струнка вчителька, яка із захватом слухала його. Вони почали зустрічатися, а через півроку одружилися. Весілля було скромним і малолюдним. Приїхали батьки Олени.
Молоді жили з мамою Віталія в трикімнатній квартирі, де він був єдиним сином. Кімнати були ізольовані, і вони не заважали один одному. Батько Віталія помер молодим.
Згодом свекруха вирішила, що виконала свій материнський обов’язок і поїхала до Закарпаття. Як з’ясувалося, вона познайомилася під час відпочинку в Карпатах із чоловіком, який зробив їй пропозицію. У цій квартирі їхня родина живе і досі. Життя зі своїм новим чоловіком виявилося успішним, і свекруха подарувала квартиру сину.
Мати Олени з дитинства прищеплювала їй, що вона повинна ідеально дбати про порядок у своєму домі, щоб чоловік не помічав її зусиль. Чоловіки не люблять, коли вдома влаштовують генеральне прибирання у вихідні дні, тому потрібно справлятися з усіма справами ще до приходу чоловіка додому.
І Олена намагалася. Вона вставала о п’ятій ранку, готувала сніданок і вечерю. Обідали вони на роботі. Дружина приходила з роботи раніше чоловіка і встигала за цей час навести порядок в квартирі, попрати, попрасувати, а ввечері готувалася до занять і перевіряла зошити.
Олені було 24 роки, коли народився син Олексій. Вона залишилася вдома з дитиною, їй стало легше, оскільки вже не потрібно було ходити на роботу, а домашні справи молода мати встигала виконати, поки син спав. Він був спокійною дитиною.
Все було добре, але не вистачало грошей. Зарплата чоловіка була небагато, а допомога на дитину в ті роки була зовсім невеликою.
Одного разу подруга Наталія прийшла до неї з подарунком для Олексія. Чоловік ще був на роботі, і Олена попросила у неї грошей у борг до зарплати Віталія.
Подруга дала гроші, а потім сказала: – Слухай, дитині вже 10 місяців. Давай-но приїжджай до мене ввечері в перукарню. У мене працює дуже хороший майстер манікюру Юля. Ти у неї пройдеш стажування, а я не буду брати з неї за оренду кабінету. Вечорами година-дві Віталій зможе посидіти з сином. Відкриєш свій кабінет. Знаєш, на манікюрі зараз добре заробляють. Які б часи не були, жінки завжди доглядають за своїми нігтями.
Олена виявилася старанною ученицею. Вона почала займатися манікюром, пізніше освоїла педикюр. Взяла в оренду кабінет в новій перукарні недалеко від дому. Гроші на інструменти та матеріали позичила подруга. Олена працювала вечорами з 17 до 22 години без вихідних. Віталій залишався з сином. Завдяки хорошій репутації, база клієнток швидко зросла. Виявилося, що багато жінок працюють вдень, і їм зручніше відвідувати майстра ввечері. В школу Олена більше не повернулася.
Жити стало веселіше. Віталій продовжував працювати на своєму місці, його все влаштовувало. Вони купили авто, зробили ремонт в квартирі, поїхали відпочивати на море. Щоправда, Олена їздила з ними тільки тричі, тому що влітку попит на її послуги суттєво зростав, особливо на педикюр. Віталій почав іще більше цінувати свою дружину.
– Годувальнице моя, – казав він їй з ніжністю.
Через шість років у них народилася донька Ірина. Олена не могла залишити роботу, боялася втратити своїх клієнток. Вона найняла нянечку для доньки і продовжила працювати, але тепер з обіду до 20 години. Через рік син пішов у перший клас. Школа була поруч, і невдовзі він почав самостійно повертатися додому.
Після народження доньки роки для Олени пролітали стрімко. Росли діти, росли витрати й проблеми. І Олена працювала, працювала, працювала. Поки люди живуть, їм завжди чогось хочеться. Вона майже не відпочивала. Додому їздила рідко, зазвичай на похорон батька або на пару днів провідати матір.
Ось уже й Олексію 24 роки, доньці – 18. Олексій закінчив юридичний факультет університету. Високооплачувану роботу, звичайно, не знайшов. Працює за досить скромну винагороду. Ірина навчається в технологічному коледжі.
Рік тому Олексій привів додому свою дівчину Анну. Анна не місцева, вона ще тільки навчається на третьому курсі університету за економічним факультетом. Анна вже рік живе з ними в одній квартирі, але тримається відсторонено. Вона приходить з пар і замикається у своїй кімнаті.
Одного разу Олена усвідомила, що в неї вже давно немає дружньої родини, як раніше. Вони перестали спілкуватися один з одним і живуть, як сусіди в комунальній квартирі.
Чоловік все частіше проявляє невдоволення і зрив сві апочуття на ній, але вона не втручається в його життя, щоб не зазнати самій стресу.
Її добрий і уважний син тепер сидить за зачиненими дверима з Анною. Олена до них не заходить. Одного разу хотіла прибрати безлад у їхній кімнаті, але потім передумала, хай живуть, як їм подобається.
Донька також не доглядає за порядком у кімнаті. Олена переконує її, але дочка грубіянить у відповідь, – Іди геть! Не лізь до мене зі своїм порядком, набридло!
Мати не витримує і сама влаштовує генеральне прибирання. Останнім часом Ірина стала зовсім недбала, свої брудні речі кидає на підлогу у ванній, навіть не хоче відкрити кришку кошику для білизни.
Вчора Олена поспішала на роботу і попросила невістку завантажити посуд у посудомийку та витерти підлогу на кухні.
– Я не наймалася вам у домогосподарки, – відповіла Анна і грюкнула дверима у неї перед носом.
Олена так і не змогла заснути після штурханів чоловіка. О п’ятій годині ранку вона встала. Приготувала сніданок, поставила в духовку м’ясо на вечерю. Чистила картоплю, а всередині кипіла образа. Вона намагалася зрозуміти, коли саме вона стала для чоловіка і дітей просто зручною домогосподаркою і постачальницею? Коли вони перестали бачити в ній дружину й матір?
Домочадці прокинулися, дружно поснідали кашею та омлетом. Подяки ніхто не сказав. Першим пішов Віталій, потім Ірина. Перед відходом вона кинула свою блузку на стілець і сказала: – Вона мені потрібна до вечора, терміново попери!
Анна наводила красу у своїй кімнаті, а син звернувся до матері: – Будь ласка, не притягуй Анну до роботи. Вона вчора дуже засмутилася і навіть плакала. Якщо ти будеш її ображати, я перестану тебе вважати своєю матір’ю, запам’ятай!
Всі розійшлися. Олені на роботу до 10 години. Вона взяла телефон і скасувала всі візити клієнток на місяць вперед. Пішла на роботу, зібрала всі інструменти і матеріали, розрахувалася з власницею за оренду приміщення.
Олена повернулася додому, покидала в дорожню сумку свої нечисленні речі, зібрала документи. На холодильник прикріпила магнітом записку: “Дорогі мої, я зрозуміла, що не потрібна вам як дружина й мати, а бути домогосподаркою втомилася. Я впевнена, вам буде краще без мене”.
Після цього вона викликала таксі і поїхала на вокзал. Мати здивувалася, побачивши дочку на порозі рідного дому.
– Олено, як ти здогадалася, що я хворію? Хотіла тобі подзвонити, але боялася відволікати тебе, знаю, що ти завжди зайнята роботою.
– Мамо, я поживу у тебе. Мені треба знайти себе, я себе загубила. Я перестала існувати як особистість. Я відчуваю себе загнаним конем, – сказала Олена, обіймаючи матір і заплакала.
Олена, звичайно, сподівалася, що чоловік вмовлятиме її повернутися, що діти попросять вибачення…
Чоловік навіть не подзвонив. Натомість зателефонувала Ірина: – Як ти могла? Поїхала і не випрала мою блузку? І, так, без тебе краще, ніхто не капає на мозги.
Олена вже п’ять місяців живе з матір’ю. Вона її єдина дочка. Мати сильно здала, часто хворіє. Олена у рідному місті орендує невелике приміщення і займається своєю справою. Тепер вона працює за щадним графіком. Доходи стали меншими, але і витрати тепер набагато менше. Подруга Наталя дзвонить, підтримує Олену і повідомляє новини.
Віталій невдовзі після від’їзду дружини переїхав до своєї самотньої колеги, з якою вже кілька років мав близькі стосунки.
Ірина привела до дому свого дружка-однокурсника, заявивши: – А чому Олексію можна, а мені ні?
Батько дає їй гроші на життя, але їй не вистачає, і вона постійно їздить до нього і просить ще грошей, попросила б у матері, але їй соромно, адже вона першою сказала, що без неї краще.
Молодь постійно свариться, ніхто не бажає готувати і наводити порядок у квартирі.
Олена, звичайно, хвилюється за дітей, але заспокоює себе думкою, що вони вже цілком дорослі і не потребують неї, навіть не дзвонять.
Зрада чоловіка її здивувала. Вона так заробилася, що не помітила його охолодження.
Олена подала заяву на розлучення і на розділ майна. Їй боляче і образливо, що в 49 років вона залишилася ні з чим, без родини, якій присвятила 27 років свого життя.
А найболючіше те, що вона сама у всьому винна.
Жінка не повинна повністю розчинятися в родині.
Сім’я цього ніколи не оцінить і стане витирати об неї ноги.
Ось така історія.
I Pushed My Son to Divorce His Wife—And Now I Regret It…
Managed to make my son get a divorce and Ive regretted it ever since… Yesterday, my neighbour Margaret caught me...
“What Do You Mean You Won’t Take Care of My Son’s Child?”—The Mother-in-Law Couldn’t Hold Back “Firstly, I’m not turning my nose up at little Billy. I’d like to remind you that in this household, it’s me—after work, as a proper wife and mother—who does the second shift of cooking, laundry, and cleaning. I’m happy to help out and offer advice, but I have no intention of taking on full parental duties.” “So what do you mean, you’re not going to help? Is this the real you—a hypocrite?” “Oh come off it, Rita. Who wants work if it doesn’t pay?” As expected, at the school reunion, Becky couldn’t help but gossip and pass judgement, just like always. But those days when Rita didn’t know how to answer were long gone. Now she always had a quick comeback, and she wasn’t about to let Becky get away with her sharp tongue this time. “If you’re worried about finding money, that doesn’t mean everyone else has the same problem,” Rita shrugged nonchalantly. “I inherited two flats in London from my dad. One was his, which we lived in until my parents divorced, and the other came from my grandparents, first to him, then to me. And rental prices there, as you know, aren’t exactly local rates—I have enough to live on and to enjoy a few treats, so I don’t have to scramble for any old job just because it pays. Isn’t that why you left medicine to work in retail?” That was supposed to be a secret. Rita had promised not to tell anyone. But if Becky really wanted to keep it under wraps, she should have watched her words—especially not calling Rita an ‘idiot’ in public. What, did she seriously think she’d get away with that? If anyone’s being an idiot, it’s hardly Rita. “You’re working in retail? Seriously?” “You promised you wouldn’t tell!” Becky squeaked, wounded, and grabbing her bag, rushed out of the restaurant, clearly fighting back tears. “Serves her right,” Andrew commented after a moment’s silence. “Honestly, I’ve had enough of her. Who even invited her?” Tanya chimed in. “I had to invite everyone,” said Anna, the former head girl and now chief organiser, apologetically. “I remember Becky was never exactly pleasant in school, but I thought people could change—well, some do. Some.” “But not always,” Rita shrugged. They all burst out laughing, and after that, people actually started asking Rita about her job—this time genuinely curious, with none of the snide remarks about her choices or intelligence. Hardly anyone comes across this line of work (nor would you wish it on your worst enemy), so there are a lot of myths and misunderstandings. Rita spent some time dispelling them for her old friends. “Why even bother treating these kids if there’s no point?” someone asked. “Who says there’s no point? Look, I’ve got a lad, five years old. Birth went a bit sideways, he had a lack of oxygen, so now he’s got some developmental delays. The outlook is actually really positive for cases like his—he just started talking a bit later, at three, and now his parents are taking him to speech therapists and neurologists. There’s every chance he’ll start school in a mainstream class, not special ed, and have a regular life. But if no one worked with him, things would look very different.” “I see. So you didn’t need to chase pennies, and chose a socially meaningful career instead,” Val summed up. Soon enough, the chat moved on to the rest of the classmates and their families. Suddenly, Rita felt like someone was watching her. At first, she brushed it off, but it came again—a prickling sense of being observed. She casually glanced around: no, no one was staring, no one there who’d pay her any mind. So she relaxed, carried on chatting, and soon forgot the odd feeling altogether. A week after the reunion, early morning, Rita was about to leave for work, only to find her car blocked in. She rang the number left on the other car and was greeted by profuse apologies and a promise to run down and move it at once. “Sorry for the hassle!” said a cheerful young man as he rushed over. “Had to pop by on an errand, but parking’s impossible round here. I’m Max, by the way.” “I’m Rita,” she introduced herself. There was something about Max—his way, his clothes, his aftershave—that got under her skin in a good way. She agreed to go out with him, then on another date. Three months in, she couldn’t imagine life without him. Even better, Max’s mum and his young son from a previous marriage took to Rita instantly. The boy had additional needs, but thanks to Rita’s profession, she quickly found common ground. She even offered Max some fresh ideas to help with his son’s social skills. By their first year together, Rita moved in with Max and his son, renting out her own place through the same agency that managed her London flats. All seemed well, but then came the warning signs. Little things at first—“help Billy get ready” or “can you watch him for half an hour while I dash out?”—which Rita didn’t mind, especially since she and Billy got along, and she had the time. But the requests piled up, became heavier. Rita had an honest chat with Max. She was happy to help, but Billy was still his responsibility first, especially since her whole professional life was already dedicated to children with extra needs. Max seemed to understand—until, right before the wedding, he and his mum discussed Billy’s rehabilitation plan, clearly expecting Rita to take over in all her free time. “Whoa, hang on,” Rita interrupted. “Max, we agreed—your son, your responsibility. I don’t ask you to go help with my mum’s house, sort out her repairs, or handle her problems, do I? I manage all that myself.” “That’s different,” his mother snorted. “Your mum’s a grown woman, lives on her own. Billy’s a child.” “So are you saying, after the wedding, I’m supposed to put up with all of this and you’ll just expect it to be normal?” “Look, I’m not turning my nose up at Billy. But after work I already do the cooking, cleaning, laundry. Add all of Billy’s extra care to that? That’s for his dad to manage. I’ll help and advise, but I won’t be the full-time parent.” “And you call yourself a decent person?” Max’s mum snapped. “Happy to brag about your job to your mates, but can’t be bothered to actually care for a child?” “What are you on about?” Rita was baffled. Then it clicked: Max’s mum worked at the same restaurant as a dishwasher—they must have overheard everything at the reunion. “So this was all a set-up, just to dump your child on me?” “You really think I’d be with you if it wasn’t for Billy and your job?” Max couldn’t hold back. “If not for those things, I wouldn’t have looked twice at you…” “Oh, really? Well then, don’t!” Rita slipped off her engagement ring and threw it at her ex-fiancé. “You’ll regret this,” Max and his mother threatened. “No real man wants a mouse like you, dead-end job, no money.” “I’ve got two flats in London, so I’m sorted,” Rita shot back, savouring the way their faces changed, then went off to pack. Of course, the next moment came the desperate apologies and promises—he’d care for his son himself, he’d never talk like that again, he was just tired and overworked. But Rita wasn’t buying it. She even visited her old classmates and had a laugh about the whole thing. And she’s still hoping to meet someone who’ll love her for who she is, not her bank balance or job skills. For now, her work and her friends are enough. And maybe she’ll finally get that cat—at least you can train one of those, which is more than can be said for some men.
How can you say you wont take care of my sons child? my future mother-in-law snapped, unable to hide her...
Are You Out of Your Mind? That’s Our Son, Not a Stranger! How Can You Throw Him Out of His Own Home?! – Shouted Mother-in-Law Mrs. Johnson, Clenching Her Fists in Fury…
Have you lost your marbles? Thats our own son, not some stranger off the street! How can you kick him...
Unexpected Guests in Our Home: Returning from Holiday to Find Strangers, Family Drama, and Our Cat Missing
Emma is the first to unlock the door, and she freezes in the entrance. The sound of the television drifts...
Get Out of My Flat! — Mum Said Calmly “Out,” her mother said with perfect calm. Arina smirked and leaned back in her chair — certain her mum was talking to her friend. “Out of my flat!” Natasha turned to her daughter. “Len, did you see the post?” her friend Lena burst into the kitchen, still in her coat. “Arisha’s had a baby! Seven pounds, twenty and a half inches.” Spitting image of his dad, that same button nose. I’ve already run round all the shops buying baby clothes. Why so glum? “Congratulations, Nat. I’m happy for you,” Lena stood to pour her friend some tea. “Sit down, at least take your coat off.” “Oh, I can’t stay long,” Natasha perched on the edge of the chair. “So much to do, just so much. Arinka’s a marvel, does everything herself, works her fingers to the bone.” Her husband is a real gem, they’ve even managed to get a mortgage on a flat and are finishing the renovations. So proud of my girl! I must have brought her up right! Lena silently put a cup in front of her friend. Right… If only Natasha knew… *** Exactly two years ago, Natasha’s daughter Arina had turned up at Lena’s door without calling—face puffy from crying and hands shaking. “Auntie Len, please, don’t tell my mum. I’m begging you! If she finds out, it’ll break her heart,” Arina sobbed, twisting a damp tissue in her hands. “Arina, calm down. Tell me properly—what’s happened?” Lena was seriously frightened. “I… at work…” Arina hiccupped. “A colleague’s money disappeared from her bag. Fifty thousand.” And CCTV caught me going in when no one else was there. I didn’t take it, Aunt Len! I swear! But they said: either I give them fifty grand by tomorrow lunchtime, or they go to the police. One of them claims they saw me hiding a wallet. It’s a set-up, Aunt Len! But who’ll believe me? “Fifty thousand?” Lena frowned. “Why didn’t you go to your dad?” “I did!” Arina dissolved into fresh sobs. “He said it’s my own fault, that he wouldn’t give me a penny since I’m so hopeless. He said: ‘Go to the police, let them teach you a lesson.’ He wouldn’t even let me in, just shouted at me through the door. I’ve got no one else, Aunt Len. I’ve saved up twenty thousand but I’m thirty short.” “And Natasha? Why not tell your mum? She is your mum.” “No! Mum would eat me alive. She always says I embarrass her — and now, this, a theft… She works at a school, everyone knows her. Please, lend me the thirty thousand, yeah? I swear, I’ll pay you back two or three grand a week. I’ve already found a new job! Please, Aunt Len!” Lena’s heart ached for the poor girl. Just twenty, whole life ahead, and already a stain like this. Her father had refused to help, her mother would—and truly could—bite her head off… “Who doesn’t make mistakes in life?” Lena thought. Arina kept weeping. “Alright,” she said. “I have the money. I was saving it for my teeth, but my teeth can wait.” Just promise this is the last time. And I won’t tell your mum if you’re that scared. “Thank you! Thank you, Aunt Len! You saved my life!” Arina threw her arms round Lena’s neck. That first week, Arina really did bring her two thousand. Bubbly, she said it was all sorted, the police wouldn’t be involved, her new job was going well. But then… she just stopped replying to messages. A month, two, three. Lena would see her at Natasha’s parties, but Arina acted like they barely knew each other — a cold “hello” and that was it. Lena didn’t push it. She thought: “Youth, she must be embarrassed, that’s why she’s avoiding me.” She decided thirty thousand wasn’t worth wrecking years of friendship with Natasha. She wrote off the debt and forgot it. *** “Are you even listening to me?” Natasha waved her hand in front of Lena’s face. “What are you thinking about?” “Oh, just… my own stuff,” Lena shook her head clear. “Listen,” Natasha lowered her voice. “I ran into Ksenia—you remember, our old neighbour? She came up to me at the shop yesterday. Seemed odd. Started asking about Arisha, how she’s doing, if she’s paid any debts off. Didn’t quite understand what she meant. I told her my Arinka is independent, earns her own way. Ksenia just smirked and left. You don’t know, did Arisha maybe ever borrow something from her?” Lena felt herself tense inside. “No idea, Nat. Maybe just small change.” “Well, I best be off. Need to stop by the chemist,” Natasha stood, kissed Lena on the cheek, and fluttered away. That evening, Lena couldn’t take it any longer. She found Ksenia’s number and called. “Ksyusha, hi. It’s Lena. Did you see Natasha today? What debts were you talking about?” A heavy sigh. “Oh, Lenka… I thought you’d know. You and Natasha—so close. Two years ago Arinka came running to me. In tears, red-eyed. Said she was accused of stealing at work. Either she paid thirty grand or it was off to jail. Begged me not to tell her mum, sobbed the whole time. Silly me, I gave her the money. She promised to pay me back in a month. Then disappeared… Lena clutched her phone. “Thirty thousand?” she repeated. “Exactly thirty?” “Yeah. She said that’s exactly what she needed. In the end, she paid back five hundred after six months and vanished. Then Vera from the next block told me Arina came to her with the same story. Vera gave her forty thousand. And Galina Petrovna, their old teacher, she also ‘rescued’ Arisha from prison. She gave her fifty. “Hold on…” Lena sat heavily on her sofa. “So she asked all of you for the same sum? Same story?” “Looks like it,” Ksenia’s voice was cold now. “She just squeezed ‘protection money’ from all of Natasha’s friends. Thirty, forty grand out of each. Story all made up, tugged on our heartstrings. We all love Natasha—so we kept our mouths shut, didn’t want to upset her. Meanwhile, Arinka must have splurged it. A month after all this, there she was on Instagram — holidaying in Turkey. “I gave her thirty, too,” Lena said quietly. “There it is,” sighed Ksenia. “That makes five or six of us. That’s not a ‘youthful mistake,’ Lena. That’s proper fraud. And Natasha’s none the wiser, so proud of her daughter. And her daughter’s a thief!” Lena put the phone down. Her ears rang. She wasn’t upset about the money — she’d already let it go. She was sickened by how cold and calculated the twenty-year-old had been, manipulating grown women’s trust so casually. *** Next day Lena went to Natasha’s. She wasn’t planning to cause a scene. She just wanted to look Arina in the eyes. Arina had just come back from the hospital, and was staying with her mum while her mortgage flat was being renovated. “Oh, Auntie Lena!” Arina’s smile was tight as she greeted her mum’s friend at the door. “Come on in. Tea?” Natasha fussed at the stove. “Hey, Lenny, grab a seat. Why didn’t you phone?” Lena sat down directly across from Arina. “Arina,” she began calmly. “I met Ksenia. And Vera. And Miss Petrova. Last night we had a long chat. We’ve formed, shall we say, a ‘victims’ club’.” Arina stilled, went pale, and darted a glance at her mum’s back. “What are you on about, Len?” Natasha turned. “Oh, Arina knows,” Lena kept her eyes on the young woman. “Remember that nasty little story two years ago? When you borrowed thirty from me? Thirty from Ksenia. Forty from Vera. Fifty from Miss Petrova. We all ‘rescued’ you from jail. Each of us thinking we were the only ones who knew your big secret.” Natasha’s hand quivered, spilling boiling water across the hob. “What fifty thousand?” Natasha slowly set down the kettle. “Arina? What’s she talking about? Did you borrow money from my friends? Even from Miss Petrova?!” “Mum… it’s not what you think…” Arina stammered. “I… I paid most of it back…” “You paid back nothing,” Lena said flatly. “You dropped off two grand for show, then disappeared. You conned over two hundred grand out of us using a made-up story. We all stayed quiet out of pity for your mum. Last night I realised, we should have pitied ourselves. “Arina, look at me right now. You scammed money from my friends?! You lied about a theft to rob people who visit this house?” “Mum, I needed the money for a deposit!” Arina shouted. “You never gave me a thing! Dad wouldn’t give me a penny. I had to start my life somehow! So what? It’s not like it was their last bit of money, I didn’t rob them blind!” Lena felt revolted. So that was it… “That’s enough. Natasha, I’m sorry to dump all this on you now, but I can’t keep your daughter’s secret anymore. I don’t want to encourage her behaviour. She’s been treating us all like idiots!” Natasha leaned on the table, her shoulders shaking. “Out,” she said, with perfect calm. Arina smirked and leaned back — certain her mum meant Lena. “Out of my flat!” Natasha turned to her daughter. “Pack up your things and go to your husband. I don’t want to see you here again!” Arina went white: “Mum, I’ve got a baby! I can’t take stress!” “Mother? You haven’t got one anymore. Mother belonged to the girl I thought was honest. But you? You’re a thief. Miss Petrova… She rings me every day, asking how things are, never said a word… How am I supposed to face her now? How?!” Arina grabbed her bag, threw a towel on the floor. “Choke on your bloody money!” she yelled. “You old witches! Go to hell, both of you!” She rushed to the next room, snatched up her baby’s basket, and stormed out. Natasha slumped in a chair and buried her face in her hands. Lena felt ashamed. “Sorry, Nat…” “No, Lenka… You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry I raised such a… thief. I honestly believed she’d made it on her own — and all this time… What a disgrace…” Lena squeezed her friend’s shoulder as Natasha broke down into sobs. *** Within a week, Arina’s husband — pale and drawn — visited all the “lenders”, apologised without meeting their eyes, and promised to repay everyone. And he did start making repayments — fifty thousand for Miss Petrova, paid by Natasha herself. Lena doesn’t blame herself for how it all turned out. Surely a trickster deserves to be found out — right?
Out of my flat! Mum said. Out, Mum said with absolute calm. Clara smirked and leaned back on her chair...
Just a Childhood Friend: A Slice of Cheesecake, Board Games, and the Tangled Drama of Growing Up
Are you genuinely planning to spend your entire Saturday sorting through rubbish in your dads old garage? The whole day?...
No Magic Here New Year’s Eve was approaching at breakneck speed, like an unstoppable train. The rush of it all left Helen breathless. She stood on the metaphorical platform, realizing she had no ticket, nothing was going to work out, happiness was out of reach, and she’d never find that holiday spirit. Why had she even invited guests? Who would want to ring in the New Year with a failure? *** On December 31st, disaster struck first thing: after a decade of loyal service, the washing machine decided to retire in dramatic style, flooding the bathroom. Finding a plumber on New Year’s Eve was a quest and a half! After spending hours and fraying her nerves, Helen finally managed it and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping the worst was over. But… At midday, her ginger tabby Basil, self-proclaimed gourmand, devoured all the sausage meant for the Russian salad, leaving her with little more than sad garden peas and pickles. As if that wasn’t enough, Basil decided to go hunting for a blue tit that had paused on the open window ledge. The giant ficus crashed from the windowsill, dragged the Christmas tree down with it, and extinguished for good the old fairy lights Helen loved so much. https://clck.ru/3R634b Pot shards and the broken baubles she’d kept since childhood mixed in with the scattered dirt. Helen nearly cried as she cleaned up the chaos. Then came a smashed decanter, burnt chicken, and the final straw: just as guests were due to arrive, Helen realised in horror she’d forgotten to buy a cake. Panicked, she phoned her sister. — Kate, disaster! I’ve got no cake! — Relax! — came her sister’s cheerful reply. — I’m just pulling up. Come downstairs, we’ll sort it out. — Where are you? — Told you: I’m outside your building. Helen went downstairs to find a scene worthy of an oil painting: Kate’s car parked outside, her best friend Maisie clutching a massive bag, and Auntie Gail standing proud with a giant bowl of aspic. — Why aspic? And a whole basin? — Helen gasped. — For emergencies! — Auntie Gail answered solemnly, forever doling out advice no one asked for. — I know what your cooking’s like! Besides, we have the whole night ahead! Got any Russian salad? Helen shrugged uncertainly. While the girls dashed out for cake, Maisie was stringing up streamers—which Basil promptly got tangled up in, transforming into an alien creature. Kate’s husband, Ian, fresh from work and arriving at just the right moment, undertook the rescue. Basil didn’t resist until he spotted Helen—and then launched himself so joyously at her that he left Ian with a bloody scratch. First aid administered, Ian gallantly volunteered to help in the kitchen—though his efforts mostly consisted of philosophical musings like, “A salad is a state of mind, not just ingredients,” which was about what Helen and Kate had come to expect. — What’s this box, Helen? — Maisie called from the lounge. — “Happy New Year” written on it. Oh, there’s a note. “Open at midnight. From Gran Val.” Helen ran to see. — Oh! I completely forgot! Kate, this was from Gran—she said to open it on New Year’s, around two in the morning. Promised it’d be a surprise. https://clck.ru/3R62hu — Wonder what’s inside? — Kate eyed the box curiously. — Let’s open it now! Helen shook her head urgently. — You can’t! She’ll ask. You’ll see. What if there’s some sort of secret lock? We’d ruin the surprise. Let’s do just what Gran said—wait. Now everyone was intrigued—even Auntie Gail settled closer, eyeing the box with interest. *** They listened to the Prime Minister’s speech, clinked glasses of prosecco, ate “cat salad”, laughed and argued, then finally— — Is it two yet? — Helen checked. — Well, it’s time! — She ceremoniously raised the box. — Gran Val’s surprise! The only man present was entrusted with opening it. Ian fiddled with the lid and lifted it. Inside, cushioned with cotton wool, were no banknotes or old photos, but dozens of tiny, colourfully tied scrolls, each with a name tag attached. — What’s all this? — Ian asked, bewildered. Helen picked up the first scroll labelled “Helen” and read aloud: — “My darling granddaughter Helen. Did things go wrong again today? Broken washing machine? Cat ate the salad? Don’t worry! Any problem is just a reason to order pizza and binge-watch your favourite show. Buy the cake in the morning. What matters is you’re surrounded by people who’ll help you eat that pizza. Love you to the moon and back. Gran Val.” The living room fell silent—then erupted in laughter. Helen laughed so hard tears streamed from her eyes. — How… How did she know?! — That’s magic, — Auntie Gail murmured. — Mine! Give me mine! — Kate asked, hand outstretched. She unrolled her scroll. — “Katie, love. Stop quarrelling with Ian over silly things. Give him a hug instead. He’s a good one—even if he does ramble on. If he starts again, just kiss him. It’s the surest way to win any argument. Love to you both.” Ian blushed to his roots and immediately kissed Kate as everyone cheered. Maisie giggled and unrolled hers: — “Maisie, my lovely. Stop looking for love in bars and try the library, or even the corner shop. Normal boys are there too—just not in those strange skinny jeans. Oh, and please, ditch the purple hair dye; your natural colour suits you!” — How did she know about the hair?! — Maisie wailed. — I only changed it two days ago! At last, it was Auntie Gail’s turn. She opened her note as if it were a State Secret. — “Dear Gail. I know you’re the wisest in the family, always in the loop. But here’s one secret for you: kindness and wise words are wonderful, but sometimes it’s best to just stay quiet and enjoy a slice of cake. Love you lots.” Auntie Gail reddened, mumbled something, took a piece of cake and fell silent—for the first New Year in living memory, she didn’t give a single slice of advice. https://clck.ru/3R636x The laughter and conversation lasted till morning. The girls video-called Gran Val, who smiled from her armchair in another city and said, “Darlings! I’m so glad my surprise worked! No magic—just a Gran who knows and loves you all!” Next morning, as Helen tidied up, she gathered the scrolls into a pretty jar and set it in pride of place. They weren’t just wishes—they were her gran’s recipe for happiness: Don’t fear chaos, laugh at your misfortunes, cherish those nearby, eat what makes you happy (but don’t overdo it), and always remember—the greatest gift is knowing someone out there loves and understands you, always.
No Magic At All New Years Eve was approaching with the unstoppable force of a runaway London train. Emily stood...
Every Love Has Its Own Shape: The Story of Little Annie, Her Absent Mother, a Struggling Father, and the Neighbourly Kindness That Changed Their Lives
Each Love Has Its Own Shape Emily drifted out onto the street. At once, a chilly wind slipped through her...