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Заборонений дотик: Мамина команда зупинила дівчинку

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На майданчику у парку маленька дівчинка, років шести, Настя, зупинилась і витягнула руку до котика. – Настя, не можна! – пролунало попередження мами, і дівчинка миттєво відсмикнула руку. – Не чіпай його, відійди! Дивись, який він негарний! Кіт, якого Настя тільки-но гладила, кинув ображений погляд на маму дівчини, зітхнув і відійшов у бік. Він часто чув такі слова від людей і вже розумів, що вони означають.

Кіт і справді виглядав кепсько: під рудою шерстю виднілися гострі кістки, ребра випирали, а хвіст нагадував тоненьку, вузлувату паличку. На фоні худоби виділялася його голова – велика, з обмороженими вухами, широким носом і очима, в яких жила печаль.

Микола, що проходив повз, повернувся на мамин голос і намагався зрозуміти, до кого він звернений. Він знайшов поглядом кота, який сидів під лавкою і дивився в пустоту, не моргаючи. “Негарний”. Він і сам знав, що його часто так вважають, і сьогодні почув, як дівчата з його групи обговорювали це: “Коля – хороший, веселий хлопець, і в математиці чудово розбирається! Але уявіть собі дітей від нього – такими ж некрасивими будуть!” Марина, посміхаючись, щось сказала подружкам, і ті засміялися. Микола почервонів, розгорнувся і вийшов з аудиторії. Напевно, вони його й не помітили.

Багато молодих людей часто дивляться в дзеркало, намагаючись підкреслити приємні риси свого обличчя: осліпливу усмішку, ямочки на підборідді або щоках. А що було підкреслювати Миколі? Відстовбурчені вуха? Великі ластовиння, розкидані по всьому обличчю? Широкі скули або гостре підборіддя? Очі невизначеного кольору під важкими повіками, зменшені лінзами окулярів з великою “мінусовою” діоптрією? Ні, нічого особливого в його зовнішності не було, тому він не любив дивитися в дзеркало.

З ним усе зрозуміло, а за котика йому було боляче. Він зовсім не був схожий на тих домашніх пухнастиків, які одним своїм виглядом можуть зробити затишок і настрій у домі. Але чи це його провина? Йому й так не щастить від самого народження – ні даху над головою, ні ситної їжі. А ще й зовнішність…

– Виходить, що мені більше пощастило, – подумав Микола, – у мене є житло й бабуся, яка тільки й мріє смачно нагодувати. У мене є майбутнє, нехай не таке, як я б хотів, але воно є! А що є в тебе?

Він сів на лавку, під якою ховався котик. Той відчув присутність людини й зазвичай хотів піти, але раптом почув:
– Ну що, бродяго? Теж сумуєш? Сідай поруч, тут не так мерзнутимуть лапки. Поділимо наш смуток на двох.

Кіт недовірливо слухав Миколу, вуха його тремтіли від розумового напруження: “Що йому від мене потрібно? Що він хоче? Невже йому конче потрібно поговорити зі мною, з таким виродком? Чи просто – так він хоче приспати мою пильність, щоб потім боляче образити? Але все одно – нехай говорить хоч що-небудь. Адже це він говорить мені!”

Кіт не став опиратися, коли його підхопили з землі теплі руки хлопця і посадили на лавку поруч із собою.

– Ми з тобою чимось схожі, кіт, – неголосно мовив Микола. – Не лише зовнішністю, хоча – так, зовнішність у нас у обох незграбна, кожен по-своєму. Ми з тобою схожі ще й внутрішньо. Нас не зустрічають радісними усмішками, з нами неохоче спілкуються, дивно було б, якби тебе чи мене запросили в компанію для веселого проведення часу. Тому ми звикли бути на самоті. І знаєш, що найстрашніше – здається, що самотність триватиме все життя!

Кіт уважно вислухав хлопця, дивлячись йому в очі, і обережно нявкнув:
– Але ж ти запросив мене в свою компанію! Тепер нас двоє, ми розмовляємо. Не знаю, навіщо тобі це потрібно, але повір – хоч це для мене було неочікувано, але дуже приємно! За кілька хвилин спілкування з тобою я готовий навіть пожертвувати обгорткою ковбаси, яку заховав у купі цегли біля входу в підвал! Ой, зря я це зробив – інші коти її з’їдять!

– Ти, мабуть, голодний, кіт? – здогадався Микола. – Звісно, голодний! Якщо погодишся почекати мене кілька хвилин, я повернуся з їжею для тебе. Посидиш тут до мого повернення?

– Ні! – несподівано нявкнув кіт. – Краще я піду з тобою й почекаю тебе у дверей магазину!

Микола уважно подивився на касирку – жінку середнього віку, приємну. Напевно, гарна, добра й дбайлива мати сімейства…

Кіт, дочекавшись Миколи на ґанку, супроводив його до лавки, де з великою насолодою з’їв два пакетики корму. Хоч і дешевого, але йому здавалося, що смачнішого він ще ніколи не куштував. Швидко вмивши мордочку, він знову підійнявся на лавку і вмостився поруч зі своїм новим знайомим. Випадкова трапеза зламала стіну недовіри, і тепер уже котик неголосно муркотів Миколі:

Микола слухав, як муркоче кіт, і сум потроху розсіювався. Похмурі думки десь зникли, а на серці потепліло від простого, але щирого вдячного мурчання кота. Піддавшись цьому почуттю, він опустив долоню на велику голову кота і обережно погладив. Кіт застиг, не вірячи своєму щастю, а коли Микола ніжно почухав його за вухом, він витягнувся на лавці і притулився до нього спинкою; “Ось воно – щастя!” – говорив його вигляд, і мордочка тепер була не потворною, а милою й лагідною.

– Я бачу, тобі знайома ця біль у серці, коли тебе відкидають, – сумно усміхнувся Микола. – Тому я тебе не зраджу. Посидимо ще трохи і підемо до мене додому. Бабуся, думаю, не буде проти, вона зовсім не така, як ця касирка з магазину. Підеш зі мною?

– Хоч на ешафот, хоч на вогнище! – щиро нявкнув кіт і віддано подивився в очі єдиного дорогого йому на той момент друга.

– Залазь під куртку, дощ починається, – Микола розстебнув куртку, і кіт, не чекаючи повторного запрошення, юркнув у тепло. – Ось і у мене душа теплішає, – усміхався Микола, – думав, ніколи не зігріється після того, як почув, як вона сміється надо мною разом з подружками…

Краплі дощу з мокрим снігом раптом перестали падати на двох друзів – над ними розкрився парасолька, яскрава, жіноча. Микола обернувся – за спинкою лавки стояла Марина і тримала парасольку, захищаючи їх від негоди.

– Дурненький ти, Коля, – усміхалася вона.

Микола насупився і знайшов у собі сили м’яко відсунути в сторону парасольку:

– Не треба, Марино. Я чув, як твої подружки сміялися з мене, а потім з твоїх слів.

– Шкода, що ти не чув мої слова. – Усміхнулася дівчина. – Я сказала їм, що хотіла б мати купу дітей, і щоб батьком був ти! Як мінімум – трьох, двох хлопчиків та дівчинку. Чомусь це їм видалося смішним.

– І кота! – виглянув з-під куртки кіт.

– І обов’язково кота! – Засміялася Марина.

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The Carer for the Wife — What do you mean? — Lida thought she must have misheard. — Where am I supposed to go? Why? What for? — Oh, can we just skip the dramatics, please? — he grimaced. — What’s not clear here? There’s no one left for you to take care of. Where you go is none of my concern. — Ed, what’s wrong with you? Weren’t we planning to get married…? — That was your idea. I never said any such thing. At 32, Lida decided to turn her life around and leave her small hometown. What was left for her there? Endure her mother’s nagging? Her mother simply couldn’t stop scolding Lida about the divorce, constantly asking how she managed to “lose” her husband. Yet Vas’ka wasn’t worth a kind word—drunk and a womaniser! How did she end up marrying him all those eight years ago? Lida wasn’t at all upset about the divorce—in fact, she felt she could finally breathe again. But she argued constantly with her mum about it, and they also fought about money, which was always in short supply. 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I’ve brought her home, but I haven’t got time to look after her. Will you help? I’ll pay you properly. Lida didn’t have to think long—much better to be in a warm flat changing bedpans than freezing on the market for ten hours a day serving picky customers! He even suggested she live there, so no more rent. — They’ve got three spare rooms! You could play football in there! — she delightedly told her friend. — No children either. Tamara’s mother was a real madam—even at 68, she acted half her age. She’d just remarried and was busy with her husband. No one else to care for the invalid. — Is she really that sick? — Oh yes, poor thing can’t move or speak. She won’t get better. — You almost sound happy about it, — Svetka eyed her. — Of course not, — Lida looked down, — but once Tamara’s gone, Edward Boris would be free… — Are you for real, Lida? Wishing someone dead for a flat?! — I’m not wishing anyone dead—I’m just not going to miss my chance! Easy for you to say, you’ve got it made! They had a huge fight and didn’t speak for half a year—until Lida confessed to Svetka her romance with Edward Boris. They couldn’t live without each other, but of course, he’d never leave his wife—not that type! So for now, she’d remain his lover. — So you’re shacking up with him while his wife is dying in the next room? — her friend was appalled. — Do you even see how vile that is? Or are you that blinded by his money—if he’s even got it? — Trust you to never say a kind word, — Lida retorted. They stopped talking again, but she barely felt guilty—well, perhaps just a bit. She cared for Tamara with real diligence, and since her affair with Edward Boris began, she took on all the housework too. After all, a man needs more than just a woman in his bed—he wants a good meal, crisp shirts, a clean flat. Lida thought her lover was very content, and she was enjoying her life too. She barely noticed Edward had stopped paying her for caring for his wife. Not that it mattered now—they were almost like husband and wife! He gave her money for shopping, and she managed the budget, not realising it was tight. And his job paid well enough—but never mind, once they got married it would all become clear. With time, the spark between them dulled, and Edward lingered less at home, but Lida put it down to the strain of having a sick wife. She pitied him, even though he barely spent a minute a day checking on Tamara. Even so, Lida wept when Tamara finally passed away. She’d given a year and a half of her life to that woman—you can’t get that time back. She organised the funeral too—Edward was “too grief-stricken.” He gave her the bare minimum for expenses, but she did everything properly. No one could accuse her of a thing. Even the neighbours, gossiping about her and Edward—nothing escapes them!—nodded approvingly at the funeral. His mother-in-law too seemed satisfied. So Lida never expected what Edward said next. — You understand there’s no need for your services anymore, so I’m giving you a week to move out, — he said on the tenth day after the funeral. — What do you mean? — Lida’s voice faltered. — Where should I go? Why? — Please, do we have to have this scene? — he sighed. — There’s no one left for you to care for, and where you go is none of my business. — Ed, what’s wrong with you? We were supposed to get married… — That’s your fantasy. I never said anything of the sort. Next morning, after a sleepless night, Lida tried to talk again, but he just repeated the same words and urged her to move quickly. — My fiancée wants to renovate before the wedding, — was all he said. — Fiancée? Who’s that? — None of your business. — Oh, none of my business?! Well, I’ll move out, but you’ll pay me for my work first. You were meant to pay forty grand a month. I only got paid twice. So you owe me £8,000. — You can do the sums, can’t you! — he snorted. — Don’t get carried away… — And you owe for cleaning too! I won’t nit-pick, just pay me ten grand and we’ll call it even. — Or what? You’ll go to court? There’s no contract. — I’ll tell Tamila—remember, your mother-in-law owns this flat. Edward’s face changed, but he recovered quickly. — Who’d believe you? — he huffed. — You know what? I don’t want to see you. Get out now. — You’ve got three days, darling. No ten grand, and there’ll be a scandal, — Lida replied, heading for a cheap hostel. She’d managed to save some of the housekeeping money. On the fourth day, having had no answer, Lida went back to the flat. Tamila, the mother-in-law, was there. Lida could see from Edward’s face she’d never get paid. So she told Tamila everything. — She’s making it all up! Don’t listen! — the widower protested. — Well, well, I’d heard rumours at the funeral, but I didn’t believe them — Tamila’s stare was fierce. — Now it all makes sense. And you, my dear son-in-law, don’t forget who owns this flat? Edward froze. — So, I want you out of here within the week. No—within three days. Tamila turned to leave, then paused at Lida. — And you, standing there like you expect a prize? Get out! Lida bolted from the flat, realising there’d be no money for her—not now. Back to the market again; there’d always be work there… **The Carer’s Devotion: Betrayal Behind Closed Doors in Suburban England**

A Carer for My Wife What do you mean? Linda could hardly believe what she was hearing. Where am I...