“I haven’t forgotten anything.”
“You’ve been going to the hospital to see your sister a lot lately, rushing there every day with bags full of stuff,” Andrew mentioned to his wife, Anne, as she returned from the hospital once again and they sat down for dinner.
“Why does that bother you so much?” Anne asked in surprise.
“Not that it irritates me. I get it, she’s your sister. But Cathy isn’t in a critical state, and there are others who can visit her—her husband, daughter, and son with his wife. So why are you heading there daily? Or is there a handsome doctor you’re visiting as well?”
“What nonsense, Andrew!” Anne chided her husband. “Where did you get that idea? And incidentally, Cathy’s doctor is a woman. So your theory falls to pieces.”
“No, seriously, Anne, explain. Why the urge to rush to the hospital every evening after work? You’re getting up at six to prepare drinks and broths, then heading straight from work to the hospital to see her? It’s self-torment, really. You look exhausted, you’re not getting enough sleep. Look, there are dark circles under your eyes.”
“Alright, I’ll tell you, otherwise you won’t stop,” Anne sighed, clearing the dishes from the table. “I’ll make some tea and we can talk.”
“Sure,” her husband said eagerly, “because honestly, I don’t get it…”
***
At seventeen, Anne Westfield, having finished school, came to the big city aiming to attend college or a technical school, as chances had it. She was born and raised in a small village with no prospects for further education. Anne was determined to get a degree and become a lawyer.
Though she failed the university entrance exams, she was elated to enroll in a law technical college. The idea of returning to the village, with no bright future ahead, didn’t appeal to her. She didn’t want to end up working in a shop like her mother did. The village life held no attraction for her.
Anne was resolved to make her place in the city—study, find a job, and settle her personal affairs. Visiting her parents when she had established herself was also part of her extensive plans.
In school, she had dated Victor Callahan, a classmate. Unlike Anne, Victor had no desire to live in the city and planned to stay put in the village. He worked on a farm where his parents were employed and intended to join the army later and return there. This rural life suited him perfectly.
Anne, however, was horrified by such prospects, realizing Victor was not the partner of her dreams. She knew they had no future together. Victor was unfazed and within half a year, as he turned eighteen, he married Alana, who had long fancied him, and he finally noticed her.
Starting at college, Anne secured a place in a dormitory and set about adjusting to a new lifestyle. She studied hard to qualify for a scholarship. Her parents sent her money monthly, keeping her financially secure enough—not lavishly, but she wasn’t struggling.
One fall day remains vividly etched in Anne’s memory. She was in a crowded bus returning from the library where she was preparing for a civil law seminar. The evening rush hour was in full swing with public transport packed as people returned from work.
Managing barely to squeeze onto the crowded bus, she preferred not to wait for another, uncertain about its capacity… After a tiring day, standing at the bus stop wasn’t appealing to Anne.
Alighting from the bus, which felt more like a sardine can to her, she breathed a sigh of relief, and at that moment horrifically discovered her bag had been slashed… A wave of panic hit her upon realizing her wallet had been stolen…
Such thefts weren’t uncommon; pickpockets often exploited the bustling public transit and distracted passengers… Tracking down the thief was a near impossible task.
The most dreadful part was that Anne had just received her scholarship money today, along with yesterday’s cash from her parents. All of it was in her wallet. She hadn’t had the chance to stash it away safely under her mattress as was her habit. Now, the wallet was stolen, and she was left without a penny…
The matter was exacerbated by a recent call to her parents, wherein her mother mentioned that overdue wages meant her father’s salary was delayed, urging Anne to economize and stretch their funds as uncertain times loomed.
Calling Anne shocked was an understatement. Tears flowed freely as she reproached herself for not moving the money sooner and for being too careless on the bus. She knew of such things happening, remembering her classmate had also been pickpocketed recently on a trolley bus. Now, she too had fallen victim…
Reporting to the police seemed futile. What could she report? She couldn’t remember the faces of people in the bus. Catching the thief was even harder than finding a needle in a haystack.
That cheap purse was likely discarded somewhere with her money gone… All her money… How would she live? What would she eat? The bare supplies left were a pack of margarine, two onions, some tea, a bit of buckwheat, and pasta. Clearly not enough to last a month.
“Why are you crying?” Julia, her roommate, asked upon seeing Anne’s tears.
Anne shared her tale of misfortune.
“Bummer,” Julia drawled. “But you’ve only yourself to blame. Who carries all their money around? On the bus, you should clutch your bag tightly, or hide your money beneath clothes. Times are rough; you must stay alert. Really, Anne, you ace your studies, yet act like a scatterbrain in life…”
Anne understood all this already, Julia’s words didn’t make anything better… She wasn’t even offended by her roommate calling her a scatterbrain. That’s precisely how she felt… But there was no rewinding time to fix things. The money was gone, and she still had to live.
Anne rejected the idea of calling home to ask for help. Admitting her carelessness to her parents seemed shameful. They faced money issues themselves. With her father’s delayed wages and her mother’s modest earnings from the shop, they had enough concerns. And aside from Anne, their youngest daughter, Cathy needed care as well.
She might need to find work, Anne reckoned. That’s possible, but who would pay her immediately? Typically, wages follow after working a month or at least two weeks for advance… although new hires likely don’t get an advance… What to do? It seemed a desperate situation…
“Want me to introduce you to a sugar daddy?” Julia proposed unexpectedly.
“A what?” Anne asked, puzzled.
“Oh, c’mon. Someone who’ll foot your bill in exchange for… well, you get the gist, don’t you?”
“No need to explain, I get it…”
“Good. With your looks, offers will flow… You’ll be set.”
Julia’s suggestion chilled Anne. The thought of being some old man’s lover for money was disgusting. Though aware that her roommate Julia didn’t mind doing such things and thus had no financial struggles, Anne found the idea repugnant…
“So, want to meet him?” Julia pressed.
“No,” Anne shook her head, then hesitantly added, “Julia, could you lend me some money? Just until scholarship day. I’m flat broke.”
“Sorry, can’t. Spent it all on clothes and cosmetics, barely enough for food left. But my offer still stands. Give it a thought. When there’s nothing to eat, moral principles are the least you’ll think about.”
Anne didn’t respond, she turned to the wall and quietly wept again. Soon she drifted into sleep, without realizing…
