“Good afternoon”, said a shaky male voice.
“Comrade Pyotr Myrskii?” she enquired. “Dad?”
“Tasha? It can’t be…” she heard him fighting back a wave of sobs.
“Yes, it’s me, Tasha, Dad… Sorry I haven’t called for so long… How are you?” Tears were in her eyes too now. The waitress who had been standing, watching smiled and walked away slightly embarrassed at her intrusion.
“Oh, up and down, you know. I’ve finished work now and life’s a bit quiet sometimes, especially since your mother passed away”.
“Mum has died? Oh, I didn’t know. When?”
“About two years ago now… she got sick about four years ago, but the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with her, so couldn’t cure it. She couldn’t work, lost her job and just got sicker and sicker, until one day she gave up. I think she just gave up a
