The summer heat lingers in the town even as the sun dips behind the rows of brick terraces, and the air grows lighter. Windows are flung wide open, a bowl of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers sits on the sillthe faint freshness of the market drifting indoors. Voices float up from outside: an argument near the front steps, children kicking a football on the tarmac, muffled laughter from the flat next door.
Lyudmila Sergeyevna, an engineer with twenty years under her belt, sits at the kitchen table, staring at her old mobile. Since morning, the towns chat groups have buzzed with just one question: what will happen to the factory? Rumours swirlsome talk of layoffs, others whisper about a sale. But today, the unease feels sharper. Her husband, Alexei, quietly slices bread. Hes never been one for words, especially when it comes to work.
«You think theyll really shut it down?» Lyudmila tries to keep her voice steady, but it wavers anyway.
Alexei shrugs. Hes never been one for comforting lies.
«If they werent planning to, theyd have said something by now. Late wages dont happen for no reason…»
Lyudmila catches herself counting the days between pay slips. A month ago, they were discussing retiling the bathroom. Now, the house hums with worrywill there be enough for groceries? How will they cover the bills?
The children return in the evening: their eldest, Irina, back from her shift at the chemists, and their son, Kostya, fresh from studying logistics in the nearby city. He brings bags of shopping and a folder of papers.
«The job centre says if the factory closes, theyll run retraining coursestheyre already making lists for people like us…»
Lyudmila bristles at «people like us.» As if theyve all been lumped together, needing to relearn how to live.
The kitchen feels crowdedeveryone talking over each other. Irina complains about rising medicine prices, Kostya suggests applying for stockroom work at a new warehouse.
Then the local news jingle blares from the telly. Silence falls. The council leader appears on screen:
«The factory is halting production. The site will be repurposed as a logistics hub…»
The rest dissolves into a dull ringing in Lyudmilas ears. She only sees her familys facesAlexeis lips pressed thin, Irina turning to the window, Kostya frozen with the folder in his lap.
A door slams in the stairwellword travels faster than official announcements.
That night, Lyudmila tosses in bed. She remembers her first shift at the factorythe fear of making a mistake at the machine, the pride in her «outstanding worker» badge. Now it feels like someone elses life. By morning, she digs out her engineering diploma, her work record, and heads to the job centre. The June heat is stifling; the air smells of cut grass and tarmac.
The queue is full of familiar facesformer foremen, the bookkeeper from next door. Everyone tries to sound cheerful, joking about «starting fresh,» but their eyes are all the same kind of tired.
«Theyre offering logistics training, warehouse ops even IT courses if youre keen,» one man says too loudly, as if convincing himself.
Lyudmila signs up for logistics. Not because she dreams of itbut because staying home, doing nothing, scares her more.
Alexei returns that evening with a flyer: «Pipeline construction workrotational shifts.» The pays nearly double the factory wage. But its two weeks home, a month away.
Dinner turns into an argument.
«Im going up north! Theres nothing left here!» Alexei raises his voice for the first time in years.
«We could try the hub together! The towns changingKostya says they need hands!» Lyudmila keeps her tone even.
«Plans dont pay bills! We need money now!»
The children exchange glancesIrina sides with her mother, Kostya tries to explain the hubs potential. The family splits in two right there at the table.
Late that night, the windows still open, the smell of fried potatoes drifting from nearby flats, Lyudmila sits by the balcony with her phone. She thinks of calling Alexeibut hes taken to pacing the courtyard alone.
The rift between them is solidAlexei set on the north, Lyudmila considering staying for the hub. Neither willing to back down.
Three days later, Alexei leaves for his shift. Before dawn, he packs silently, glancing at the balcony where Lyudmila stands watching the yard. Kostya helps fold his dads heavy coat and boots, though the heat hasnt broken. Irina tries to joke about «new beginnings,» but her voice strains. On the kitchen table lie printoutsroute maps, the hubs invitation, job centre forms.
At the bus stop, Lyudmila hugs him tight. His eyes are weary but resolute.
«Hold things together here Dont disappear,» is all he says.
The bus pulls away. She watches until it vanishes around the corner. Walking back, the tarmac scorching underfoot, she feels the emptinesseach of them now living in separate timelines.
The flat is quietthe kids out, Lyudmila rereading the retraining papers. The course is a mix of former machinists, warehouse hands, even a chemist from the next unit over. The tutor explains digital invoices; some scribble in notepads, others tap at tablets.
At first, it all feels foreignjargon jumbles in her head, the pace too fast for factory rhythms. But within a week, her hands steady on the keyboard. She helps the woman beside her navigate the stock system.
Evenings are quieter without Alexei. Kostya brings hub updatesthe towns secured funding, small orders trickling in. Irina picks up extra work, processing invoices for chemists and shops.
The windows stay open latethe warm air carries the scent of barbecues, neighbours chatting on benches. Lyudmila listens: some grumble about «how things used to be,» others plan grocery deliveries or repair gigs.
Two weeks in, a message arrives from Alexeia short clip from a northern site: low sun over marshland, construction behind a chain-link fence.
«All good here Hard graft, but decent blokes…»
Later, a crackling callwind and generator noise cutting his words.
«Maybe after this shift, Ill try joining you at the hub If its working out…»
Lyudmila hears the new roughness in his voiceand feels the ache give way to cautious hope.
The hubs progress is slowthe town learning new rules. Mistakes pile up: delayed shipments, wrong addresses. But they help each otherformer coworkers sharing advice or supper after shifts.
One evening, Kostya suggests a neighbourhood meetingto explain the hubs work in their courtyard. Lyudmila hesitatesshes never been one for speeches. But Irina backs the idea; they draft notes, invite neighbours.
More turn up than expectedwomen bring flasks of tea, homemade cakes. Kids dart between benches as adults talk work and the towns future.
Lyudmila speaks plainlyno promises of easy money, just the fear she felt a month ago, the relief of her first small wins.
«Weve got to stick together Its new for all of us. But if we help each other, this place could be something else.»
After, the courtyard stays livelyideas for bulk orders, medicine runs for the elderly, even plans for a summer fete.
A month later, Alexei returnsleaner, tired, but seeing the hub differently. He listens to their stories, watches their small victories.
That night, the family gathersno tension now, just talk of missteps and plans.
«I could help with the kit,» Alexei says. «If it doesnt pan out, I can always go back.»
The kids nod. Lyudmila exhalestheir choices no longer a battle, just steps forward, together.
The next day, the yard buzzes with fete preppaper lanterns strung between trees, tables laid out, boys hauling water for saplings.
In the evening light, the town feels differentlaughter ringing from gate to pavement, kids darting barefoot across grass.
Lyudmila noticesthe talk isnt just about the factory anymore. They discuss delivery routes, bike repair shops, pooling orders for the hub.
When night falls, the family sits by the open window, listening to the hum of the town, watching lanterns glow in the yard where laughter lingers.
They know theres much aheadbut the fear has eased, replaced by quiet readiness for tomorrow, whatever it brings. Together.
