Grace Collins was already pulling on her coat when her colleagues voice crackled over the phone.
Grace, you promised to be in half an hour. Can you still make it?
Of course, go ahead and see the dentist, Im just stepping out.
She sprinted down the stairs and out of the flat block, only to find the courtyard turned into a sheet of black ice, the nights frost having locked the path to the street.
Not going to be quick, she muttered, slipping onto the slick surface and edging toward the bus stop.
Midway, the groundskeeper, known to everyone as John despite his tenletter surname, was apologising to passersby.
No sand today, the delivery never came, he said, and the crowd laughed, No worries, John, well get through it!
Grace emerged onto the pavement, a slush of mud and the thin crust of snow that had melted under the early sun. Pedestrians had already turned the fresh snow into a greasy, dark mess. She pressed on, her mind juggling whether to discharge a mother in Ward Five or keep her a few days longer in the maternity unit.
Then, without warning, the ground gave way. She fell, her hands plunging into the filthy slurry. She looked disgusted at the muck spreading around her, but before she could pull herself up, a pair of strong arms lifted her by the elbows.
Thank you, she gasped, turning to see a tall, smiling man.
No problem, but youll need to clean up at home.
I dont have time, Im in a rush.
Then good luck at work, he said, disappearing down the side street.
Back at St. Marys Hospital, Grace handed her soiled coat to the nightshift nurse, asking her to hang it to dry. The nurse murmured, Everythings as usual. The oncall doctor is still watching over the new admit a nervous young girl whos decided to keep the baby. Her parents are out of town; she came with her aunt. Shes in Ward Seven.
Grace sighed, the day already heavy on her shoulders. She entered Ward Seven, where the oncall doctor briefed her before she slipped into the adjoining room. The patient lay turned toward the wall. Grace placed a hand on her shoulder; the girl lifted her head, eyes wide.
Are you a doctor? the girl asked.
Yes, Im Grace Collins. And you are?
Emma, she replied quickly. Ive decided to give the baby up.
Is that your choice or your familys?
Its a joint decision.
Does the father know?
Not yet, but I dont think he wants a child.
Grace leaned closer, her voice dropping. You cant just walk away. The law says you must tell him. A child isnt a toy. You have a mother and a father; why deny him love?
Im still young, I need to study.
You should have thought of this earlier. Every action carries responsibility. Imagine a train carriage: youre comfy inside, then youre thrown out into the cold. Thats what a child faces without a mother. Think of it, Emmayour baby will need you the most in those first days.
Emmas eyes flashed with panic. Then youll help him! she shouted.
Hell have you, Grace replied gently. You still have time to call his father. Dont fear childbirth; it will be alright.
Grace squeezed Emmas hand, offering a warm smile. In Emmas gaze flickered pain, confusion, and a fragile hope that everything would somehow smooth out as it had in her own childhood.
The whole day, Graces thoughts kept returning to Emma. At thirtyfour, Grace still hadnt built a family of her own. In university she had been engaged, only for her fiancé to be killed by a drunk driver in her final year. The grief had consumed her, and shed buried herself in work, watching other couples welcome children while she remained alone.
Her mother, ever the matchmaker, would call: Dont stay at home on weekends, love; you might meet someone on a walk.
Mother, youre dreaming, Grace would sigh. Yet each time she stood by her clinic window, watching husbands greet their wives, tears welled up. She longed to hold a baby in her arms, just like the mothers she saw.
Now, outside the hospital, the sky was a bruised grey, wet snow still falling. Evening would bring another freeze, the streets slick and treacherous. Remembering she needed to have her coat cleaned, Grace slipped into the staffs cloakroom, then returned to her duties. The shift passed without emergencies.
She decided to check on Emma again. The girl, only eighteen, lived just a few miles away in a neighboring town; shed come to St. Marys because everyone in their small community knew each other. Emma had been given a few days to weigh her options, but the father still needed to sign the paperwork.
Grace wondered why shed never truly considered the weight of an abortion decision before; now she felt it in her heart. She lingered by Emmas bedside, listening as the teenager fumbled with her phone, trying to call her fathers number.
Maybe I should just say I dont know who the father is, Emma whispered.
Youll give birth first, then well see. How are you feeling? Any contractions?
Nothing, she replied, a small smile breaking through.
Grace left, careful not to slip again, but the icy pavement betrayed her once more. This time she fell hard onto her knee, unable to rise. A woman passing by tried to help but couldnt lift her. Suddenly, the same strong arms from earlier appeared, gripping her under the elbows and pulling her upright.
Thank you, she said, breathless.
Im Yuri, the man introduced himself, waiting for her name.
Grace, though usually shy about strangers, felt compelled to answer. Grace Collins.
He was chatty, and as they walked toward her flat, he mentioned he was a mechanical engineer at a nearby factory, with a younger brother and sister he helped raise.
When they reached her building, Yuri helped her up the stairs, introduced himself to her sisterinlaw, Lydia, and even offered her tea, which he declined, saying his children were waiting. Lydia thanked him for looking after her niece.
Graces mother, hearing the commotion, muttered from the kitchen, What a fine gentleman, but hes married, isnt he?
Grace shook her head. No, hes single, just has siblings he cares for.
Later, while clearing dishes, her mother sobbed, One day Ill be gone and youll be alone, dear. Apart from my sister Mary, whos only two years younger than me, youll have no one.
Grace pulled her mother into a gentle hug. Then Ill keep living, Mum. Im tired now, I need to sleep. Tomorrow I have to be up early for that girl.
At six oclock the next morning she called the ward. Hows Emma in Ward Seven?
The contractions have started. Youll make it in time for breakfast.
All morning, Yuri haunted her thoughts. She imagined him holding Emmas newborn, and a foolish, hopeful smile tugged at her lips. She stood before the mirror, smoothing her hair, and caught herself wishing she might see him again that day.
In the hospital lobby, she spotted two men, one of whom was Yuri. She approached him.
Good morning, how can I help? she asked.
You work here? he replied. Is something wrong with your sister?
My sister is twelve, Grace said, halfjoking. I hope she doesnt end up like that.
Yuris brother, Vladimir, cut in, You think Emma will give up the baby?
Grace, get to the delivery suite, the nurse called.
Emma, trembling, feared death and the smug grin of a man named Vova, who kept calling her. The pain made it hard to think, and anger rose inside her.
Wheres Grace? someone asked. Shes not here yet.
Emmas face brightened at the mention of Grace, and she whispered, Dont worry, itll be alright.
The babys cry filled the ward. A junior nurse lifted the newborn, placing it gently in Emmas arms.
Will you name him Yuri? a doctor asked Vladimir.
Why not? he replied. A token of gratitude for your help.
Yuri, watching from the doorway, smiled at Grace, his eyes softening. Well ask Emma first, shes the one who gave birth.
A week later the whole family gathered in the modest living room of Yuris house for a celebratory lunch. Lydia, now a permanent guest, set the table while Emmas aunt rested, having been admitted to the regional hospital.
Yuri, ever the quiet hero, kept glancing at Grace, his affection evident. Their younger brothers christening was arranged, with Grace as godmother and Yuri as godfather. Two months later they married in a small chapel, the joy of the new parents, Emma and Yuri, radiating through the crowd.
Lydia, finally at peace, thought of her own daughters future: a happy, bustling family, grandchildren on the way, all in good time.
