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“Mommy, what are you saying? You’re the most beautiful and young! Please…”
Irina smiled involuntarily.
– You’re a clever little fox! Okay, this is the last time! Got it?
Olya nodded happily and stuck her tongue out at Murka, who was calmly lying down in the hallway, as if she didn’t feel guilty about all this commotion.
Irina ran out of the house and practically ran to the bus stop. If she missed the minibus, she’d have to endure another lecture from the train conductor. Grigory Stepanovich seemed like a nice guy, but for some reason he was always picking on her. Her co-workers teased her about his crush, but Irina just brushed it off:
— Oh, come on! You’re making this all up! He can’t stand me, it’s obvious!
— From hate to love…
– Come on! Enough!
Irina really didn’t understand why Grigory Stepanovich made comments to her so often, and tried to avoid meeting him.
She caught the minibus at the last minute and even grabbed a free window seat. But as she was getting off at the station square, her heel caught on a high curb and she fell to the asphalt. Everything went black before her eyes.
Limping, Irina headed towards her carriage.
“God, let no one see me like this now!”
The tights were torn, the skirt was dirty, and the blouse was worn through to a hole at the elbow.
— The same!
She shuddered and froze.
“Well, of course! Who else could have met me at such a moment if not the train conductor!”
She slowly turned around and said:
“Hello, Grigory Stepanovich.”
— Why are you dressed like that, Istomina?! Did you come straight to work from some party?!… Continued below in the first comment
Irina lowered her eyes, feeling her cheeks flush with heat.
“I… fell,” she muttered. “I was in a hurry.”
Grigory Stepanovich frowned, but his voice suddenly became much softer:
“Oh, come on, Istomina… Why didn’t you go to the first aid station right away? Go get yourself sorted out. We still have a little time before departure.”
Irina looked at him in surprise. Never before had he spoken to her so calmly.
“Thank you,” she squeezed out and hurried to the utility room.
After changing into a spare uniform and quickly freshening up, Irina returned to the train car. Passengers were already gathering, filling the compartments, busily stowing bags, and checking tickets.
The train started moving.
And everything seemed to be going smoothly until, halfway through the journey, a strange cry was heard throughout the carriage.
Irina rushed there.
In one of the compartments, a young woman sat on the bottom bunk. Her face was pale and drenched in sweat. She was breathing heavily, and a man—probably her husband—was fussing helplessly nearby.
“What happened?” Irina ran up.
“She’s… she’s giving birth!” the man shouted in panic.
Irina was momentarily at a loss. Give birth on a train? And right now?
“Calm down! I’ll call the doctor now!” she commanded.
But the same question kept spinning in my head: who?
There didn’t seem to be a doctor among the passengers.
And suddenly he came out of the far compartment.