The train crashed into a wooded area, according to the navigator. There was only a short distance to go, and Nancy was perplexed as to what it might be like to be out here in the woods. Gradually, however, the forest faltered and the train stopped at a small station, where, sitting on a chair, two elderly women were selling sunflower seeds.
The girl stepped out of the stuffy train toward the sun. She had to walk a mile and a half from the station, and she was glad she was wearing comfortable sneakers. After saying hello to the old ladies, Nancy asked which way she should go.
She got the answer and walked briskly down the path in the direction indicated. The forest was beautiful, all bright from the birch trunks. It breathed with fragrance and rejoiced.
Birds were singing everywhere. Beetles were buzzing. Insects were chirping.
Nature was living a full, renewed life, and Nancy seemed to be at one with it. She was so unaccustomed to being here in these untouched places. Finally, after supposedly walking about a kilometer, she came across a carved leather sign with the inscription Sokolova Mansion.
She quickened her stride, and in 15 minutes, she emerged from the forest into a huge clearing. What she saw before her was beyond her comprehension. She had expected to see a relatively modern-looking house.
It was about two stories high, slightly neglected because its owner was disabled. But there, hidden from view by an alley of poplars, stood a huge old mansion three stories high. It was bulky.
The building was covered with ivy. The ivy was just now beginning to bloom, and the columns beside the broad stone front porch reminded her of Acropolis, though not as old as the Greek monument. There were quite a few other buildings on the grounds, including modern ones.
Nancy noticed a large garage outbuilding a stable and, apparently, a carriage shed. It was as if I had traveled back in time, Nancy thought, and indeed everything around was so atmospheric. From the house to the trees, you could have made historical movies there without bothering to create scenery, the gravel rustling merrily under the soles of your shoes.
As Nancy stepped down the walkway toward the front door, she hadn’t even had time to press the doorbell when the door swung wide open and a short woman of about 65 appeared on the threshold. She had a pleasant face, and her hair was perfectly gray in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She wore plaid pants and a light blouse tucked into them.
Her look was so simple and elegant that Nancy regretted wearing her favorite ripped jeans and a simple cotton t-shirt. Welcome, my dear. We are looking forward to seeing you.
The woman gestured for her guest to enter the house. Nancy said hello and stepped into the pleasant half-light of the hallway. Let’s go into the library.
It’s a good place to talk. You have a nice view over the garden. By the way, my name is Miranda.
How do you do? Nancy could barely keep up with her as she led her through the spacious living room and I, Nancy. Oh, Nancy is a lovely vintage name. Miranda commended to the tapping of her own heels.
The house was cooler than the outdoors and just as atmospheric. Time seemed to stand still here. It lurked in the antique tapestries and furnishings of the 19th century, laying dust on shelves of books and photographs.
It rolled under a sprawling armchair with a ball of forgotten yarn by the fireplace. The library was lit by the huge window which did indeed offer a stunning view of the blooming garden. Sit down, my dear, and I’ll make the arrangements for the tea.
Nancy smilingly sat down in the chair to which the woman indicated and she thought that now Miranda would take the bell from the table and ring it, calling the maid. But the woman took a cell phone out of her pants pocket and dialed Kelly’s number. Make us some tea, please, and bring it to the library.
Oh, and don’t forget something nice for our guest. With these words, she passed out and sat down in her chair. In contrast, for a moment, she looked at her companion in silence and with a smile.
Nancy was awakened. Yes, here I have with me a diploma of graduation from the Institute and certificates of completed courses of promotion. What do you mean? Miranda interrupted her.
I see that you are a good fit for us, as embarrassed the girl. You do not ask me about my skills and experience. You see, my dear, the woman patted her hand cheerfully.
I’ve been around a lot and I know a thing or two about people. The thing is, we don’t need a nurse so much as a companion. Your future ward is a very complicated person with a complicated history.
Your duties will include physical therapy, supervising medications, and helping with minor household chores. You may ask why I don’t do all this. Because a young man of 28 is simply bored with an old woman like me, she laughed.
So my mentee is a young man. Nancy was genuinely surprised. I thought that your spouse had become saddened.
Miranda, but you better be right. The reality is that my husband has been gone for 40 years and my only grandson is in a wheelchair. So he is your grandson.
Yes, Robert is my only relative. We don’t have anybody else. She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and blotted her wet eyes.
He’s been confined here with me for two years now. His parents died the day he became disabled. A car accident.
I’m sorry for your loss. Sincerely said Nancy. How awful it must be to lose your child and to see your only grandchild in pain.
As it happens, only women in our family have been long-lived for generations. My son was only 53. At that moment, the door opened and a burly woman in her 50s appeared in the library with a huge tray.
Meet Nancy. This is Kelly, our cook and part-time maid. Miranda introduced her.
Kelly put her burden on the small table and smiled widely at her guest. Hello. Good afternoon.
She smiled back at Nancy. Kelly, this is Nancy. She will be looking after Robert.
Kelly unceremoniously glanced at the girl and said, thank God. I hope at least our baron will fall a little. The mistress of the house cast a reproachful glance at her and she immediately realized that she had gone away.
Miranda sat down in her chair and poured tea. It is lavender and juniper, she said. Seeing the guest inhaling the aroma, she tried to figure out what Kelly had put in the kettle.
It smells amazing. Sincerely said Nancy, since she had left the house decently a long time ago and had not had breakfast. The girl ate a gorgeous freshly baked croissant with great appetite, with raspberry cheese curd filling.
Her companion only drank her tea in small sips and she served her guest homemade cookies with nuts and sweet currant jam. Suddenly the library door swung open again and a young man dressed in a cotton shirt and jeans appeared on the threshold. A young man in a modern wheelchair.
Nancy’s heart skipped a beat through her body as if an electrical charge had passed through. When she saw his handsome, masculine face with features carved out of stone and deep, ice-cold gray eyes, his dark, curly hair was pulled back to his collar, his shirt tucked behind his ears, his broad, once muscular shoulders. He was lean and perfectly built.
He had a book in his hands and Miranda jumped up from her chair. Here is my grandson, she announced. Robert, I’d like you to meet grandma because I asked you to.
He muttered, barely glancing at Nancy, his eyebrows furrowed. His lips turned into a tight line. I don’t need a nurse.
Well, of course you don’t. The old lady justified herself. Do you need an assistant? I don’t need an assistant.
Robert, stop being rude. I don’t care. That’s not why I’m here, Nancy blurted out.
It was so sudden that both grandmother and grandson turned their heads in her direction at once. I’m here to get you on your feet. She knew it sounded silly and defiant, to say the least, but she suddenly realized that she believed it.
You see, sweetheart began, Miranda. What are you talking about? Abruptly interrupted his grandmother, Robert, and looked at Nancy point blank, their gazes finally meeting. I will never get back on my feet.
I don’t think so. Nancy said calmly and confidently. She suddenly remembered that girl with the torn order and it gave her strength.
And again, she felt the familiar tingling on her fingertips for a few seconds. They stared at each other as if studying, figuring things out, tasting things. It was a strange first encounter.
Finally, the boy tore his gaze from her face and turned abruptly to leave the library. Miranda exhaled noisily. It seems to have worked out well.
Congratulations to you, Nancy. I thought it would be much worse. She sank heavily into the chair from the former.
The smiling lady was gone. Only you shouldn’t have said so Robert hasn’t gotten over the pain and the loss and accepted his situation yet. The doctor said there was a spinal cord injury.
I believe it will all work out. Nancy said quietly. And you must believe it.
Yes, that’s right. But you see, sweet girl, after the accident, Robert lost both his friends and his fiance who unable to stand the confinement. Here one day, just packed up and left, gave him back his ring.
He’s still wounded in the heart. You know, everything will be all right. Nancy said firmly.
And the two women suddenly smiled at each other. The next day, she sat in front of the discouraged department head writing her resignation letter. The lines flew out from under her hand at such a speed as if someone was pushing her a little less than a day had passed since she had left the Sokolov’s mansion, but she could not get rid of a strange feeling that had no name.
Confusion, fear, joy, excitement, probably all at once. The two weeks of work that were supposed to elapse had gone by like the blink of an eye. She did her job automatically, filling out case records, making rounds, helping out at appointments.
Nancy no longer felt anything strange about her well-being. In the end, everything that had happened to her seemed to her to be nothing more than a painful dream triggered by fatigue and stress. As she packed her suitcase and climbed into the car Miranda had sent her, her mother hugged her goodbye.