“Seventh of July! It cant be! Just a coincidence. But then again, the name Andrew too.”
She stared at the mans portrait for a long time, as if hoping to see something familiar.
The woman in the HR department of the town council had just finished processing the paperwork for a new employee. Then she picked up the phone:
“Inna Andreevna, could you come to my office? Your new colleague is here.”
Soon after, the head of housekeeping walked in and immediately addressed the older woman sitting there:
“Youre the new cleaner?”
“Yes!”
“Im the facilities managerInna Andreevna,” she introduced herself before asking, “And you are?”
“Vera,” the woman answered, then corrected herself when she saw the expectant look in her bosss eyes. “Vera Alekseevna.”
“Come, Ill show you your work area.” They stepped out of the office, still talking. “Youll be responsible for the entire third floor…”
***
Vera was over the moon about landing this job. Smiling to herself, she took in her new domain:
“Two years till retirement, but I could even stay on after that. Eight hundred quid a month, plus bonuses. At least Dmitry and I can live comfortably now. The kids have all moved outgrown and gone. Oh, I dont even know the mayors name! How embarrassing if someone asks! Lunch soon. Theres a photo gallery of past mayors on the first floor. Why didnt I check?”
***
On her way back from the canteen, she passed the display and read the mayors name: “Andrew Borisovich born 1983.”
“Oh, hes still young. Not even forty yet,” Vera thought before it suddenly hit her. “Andrew?! 1983.”
She turned back, double-checked the birth date:
“Seventh of July! It cant be! Just a coincidence. But then again, the name Andrew too. The middle and last names are different. Though adoptive parents can change those even the first name.”
She kept staring at the portrait, as if searching for something familiar.
***
New job, new routine. The strange thoughts faded into the background.
That evening, she talked for hours with Dmitry. Then he went off to his room to watch football, while Vera stayed in hers.
Their flat was spaciousthree bedrooms. With the kids gone, there was plenty of room. Sometimes Dmitry still shared her bed, but less and less often.
Now, lying alone, her mind wandered back to her youthand to the secret shed never shared with her husband.
Before Dmitry, shed had a son. His name was Andrew. Shed been nineteenno job, no money. A dormitory from vocational school, no place for a baby. She lasted six months before giving him up.
Three years later, she married Dmitry. They never asked about each others past. Soon, their own children cametwo daughters.
The girls grew up. One went to university in the county town and married theregrandkids already in school. The other married and now lived in London.
Vera herself never landed a proper career. For the last twenty years, shed worked as a caretaker at a factory until it went under. Then a friends daughter suggested this cleaning job at the council. She took it.
And now Mayor Andrew Borisovich, born 1983. Not that Vera regretted her life. But shed never stopped thinking about the son shed given up. Hed even appeared in her dreams a few times. Now, she just wanted to knowwas this her boy? Was he happy?
***
A few days passed.
Vera was cleaning her floor when she heard voices. Then she saw Andrew Borisovich walking past, deep in conversation with a colleague. Spotting her, he nodded and moved on.
Suddenly, she saw Vitalythe boy shed loved forty years ago. Handsome, full of life, though shed always wished hed be more serious. She could never picture it. But now, seeing the mayor, she realizedthis was exactly how she’d imagined Vitaly might turn out.
But hed left the moment he found out she was pregnantpromised to earn money, then vanished.
“Is Andrew Borisovich really my son?”
“If I hadnt given him up, he wouldnt be where he is now. But my daughters have done well. The eldest married, nice house, car. The younger ones fine too. Daughters but no son.”
“Would I have married Dmitry otherwise? No, everything wouldve been differentfor me, for him, for Andrew. Though maybe the mayor isnt even my boy. How many crazy coincidences are there in the world?”
“And does it even matter? He has parentshe was only six months old when they took him. They probably never told him. Different surname. He mustve had a happy childhood. Not every lad makes mayor.”
***
After lunch, her younger colleague Helen approached:
“Hey, Auntie Vera!”
“Hi!”
“Were celebrating Lyubas birthday on Fridayshe cleans the sixth floor. Turning forty-five. You in?”
“Of course!” Vera smiled.
“Great, thats twenty quid each. And bring somethinga salad or whatever.”
“Sure.” Vera handed over the cash.
“We do this for everyones big birthdays.”
“Helen, just call me Vera. Were colleagues.”
“Got it, Vera!”
***
On Friday, they gathered after work in an empty office on the seventh floor. Table set, drinks poured.
Same as any office do. Toasts made, sips taken after each one.
Then the door openedAndrew Borisovich walked in.
“Lyuba Olegovna, happy birthday!” He handed her a small box. “Just a little something.”
“Thank you!” Lyubas eyes welled up.
“Andrew Borisovich, join us!” the facilities manager urged.
“Just for a bit.” He sat downright beside Vera.
She quickly served him salad and cold cuts. Wine was poured. Another toast.
Vera watched him, heart pounding. This was her sonshe was sure now.
***
Andrew stayed twenty minutes before excusing himself.
“What a man!” Katyathe councils longest-serving employeesaid. “The old mayor wouldnt have dreamed of sitting with us.”
“How longs he been here?” Vera asked.
“A year. Remember, we voted him in last election?”
Honestly, Vera didnt. Dmitry handled all that.
“You know his parents are loaded, right?” Katya continued. “But get thistheyre not even his real parents.”
“What?” Lyuba gasped.
“Come out during the campaign two years back. Rumor is, he didnt even know. Funny thinghe didnt blink. Just kept loving the ones who raised him.”
“Katya, how dyou know all this?”
“The old mayors deputy was Olga Pavlovna. She dug up dirt, tried to keep her boss in power. But people chose Andrew Borisovich instead.”
“So he still doesnt know who his real parents are?” Vera asked.
“Doesnt seem to. And why would he? His lifes worked out. Our mayors a good man.”
Vera stared at the door hed left through. Her heart swelledjoy that her son had done well, sorrow that shed never hold him.
Her fault, of course.
She smiled to herself.
“I wont disturb you, son. Ill just stay close.”
