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Энди поняла, что если роскошный «Подиум» вдохновляет элегантных женщин создавать свой стиль, то их журнал (и вдруг ей пришло в голову его название «Решительный Шаг») будет помогать им наилучшим образом планировать свою свадьбу. Эмили была в восторге от названия – оно было коротким, динамичным и эффектным. Она была уверена, что их проект состоится.
И Эмили оказалась права. Конечно, были проблемы, были препятствия, но от начала до конца все шло относительно гладко. И хотя Энди вначале колебалась, журнал стал ее любимым детищем и было странно, что журнал возник из идеи Эмили, их совместного творчества и работы, работы… А теперь они могли им гордиться, и Энди была бесконечно благодарна Эмили за это.
12. Read and retell this text. Translate it into Russian (in writing).
Estelle worried about her mother. She was always doing things. She never sat still. She had caught her yesterday breast-feeding Poppy at the same time as she was crouched at a table correcting the proofs of her new book. Estelle wanted to tell her mother to have a rest, to stop being a career woman for a few days.
Estelle didn’t want to have a career. She might do a job for a few years – until she had her first baby – but it would be one of those jobs that you would walk away from at the end of your shift and not to have to worry about. She might be a plumber, or a painter and decorator – there was supposed to be a skills shortage, wasn’t there? Estelle thought careers only made women unhappy. She had seen it with her own eyes. Career women never had enough time to do anything properly. Her mother called it multitasking but all that meant was running around doing five things at once before panicking and shouting that you were going to be late for a meeting.
It meant saying to your children ‘Not now.’ And sometimes crying when you couldn’t find your stupid purse and keys. Estelle wasn’t fooled by the part-baked bread Mum sometimes put in the oven. It smelled nice while it was cooking but it wasn’t real home-made bread.
Dad’s career was worse, of course. It had made Estelle a prisoner. She was like a princess in a tower except that she didn’t have long hair because Mum said short hair was quicker to do in the morning. Dad pretended to be interested in what she was doing but Estelle could tell that he was only half listening. She wanted to be the most important thing in his life. But when she complained to him, he said ‘We all have to make sacrifices, Estelle.’
(from Number 10 by Sue Townsend)
Discussion
-
What idea did Emily come up with? -
Why did they want to launch a new bridal magazine? -
Why was it important for Emily and Andy to strike out on their own? -
What aim did they pursue wanting to publish a magazine? -
Could their new project allow the girls to advance to the top of their profession? -
What challenges would they meet with when they started a new business? -
Did they have required qualifications and skills for the project? -
Pick out the words that describe the activities Emily and Andy are occupied with. -
What do they seek more – prosperity or a greater career fulfillment? -
What advantages does self-employment have? -
Do Emily and Andy gain satisfaction from their job? -
What is the difference between a job and a career? -
Give character sketches of Andy and Emily. Speak of their contribution to the project. -
Speak of comradeship at work.
Unit III
Temporary Solutions
from The Cuckoo's Calling
by Robert Galbraith (Joanne Rowling, born 1965)
(abridged)
Though Robin Ellacott's twenty-five years of life had seen their moments of drama and incident, she had never before woken up in the knowledge that she would remember the coming day for as long as she lived.
Shortly after midnight, her long-term boyfriend Matthew, had proposed to her under the statue of Eros in the middle of Piccadilly Circus. It had been, in Robin's view, the most perfect proposal ever, in the history of matrimony. He had even had a ring in his pocket, which she was now wearing; a sapphire with two diamonds, it fitted perfectly, and all the way into town she kept staring at it on her hand as it rested on her lap.
Male eyes lingered on Robin as she picked her way through the roadworks at the top of Oxford Street, consulting a piece of paper in her right hand. Robin was, by any standards, a pretty girl: tall and curvaceous, with long strawberry-blonde hair that rippled as she strode briskly along the chill air adding colour to her pale cheeks. This was the first day of a week-long secretarial assignment. She had been temping ever since coming to live with Matthew in London, though not for much longer; she had "proper" interviews lined up now.
The most challenging part of these uninspiring piecemeal jobs was often finding the offices. London, after the small town in Yorkshire she had left, felt vast, complex and impenetrable.
She consulted her watch. She was a quarter of an hour early. The nondescript black-painted doorway of the office she sought stood to the left of the 12 Bar Cafe; the name of the occupant of the office was written on a scrappy piece of lined paper Sellotaped beside the buzzer for the second floor. On an ordinary day she might have found that off-putting; today the dirty paper and the peeling paint on the door were mere picturesque details in the background of her grand romance. She checked her watch again (the sapphire glittered and her heart leapt), then decided in a burst of euphoria to go up early and show herself keen for a job that did not matter in the slightest.
An old-fashioned metal staircase spiralled up around the birdcage lift. It was only when she reached the glass door on the floor above that Robin realised, for the first time, what kind of business she had been sent to assist. The name on the paper beside the outside buzzer was engraved on the glass panel: C.B. Strike, and, underneath it, the words Private Detective.
Robin stood quite still with her mouth slightly open, experiencing a moment of wonder that nobody who knew her could have understood. She had never confided in a solitary human being her lifelong secret, childish ambition. For this to happen today, of all days! Savouring the moment, she approached the engraved door very slowly. She stretched out her left hand (sapphire dark, now, in this dim light) towards the handle; but before she had touched it, the glass door flew open. Sixteen unseeing stone of dishevelled male slammed into her. Robin was knocked off her feet and thrown backwards towards the void beyond the lethal staircase.
Strike heard the high-pitched scream and reacted instinctively: throwing out a long arm, he seized a fistful of cloth and flesh, a second shriek of pain echoed around the stone wall and then he had succeeded in dragging the girl back on to firm ground. The girl was doubled in pain against the office door, whimpering. Judging by the lopsided way she was hunched, Strike deduced that he had saved her by grabbing a substantial part of her left breast. A thick, wavy curtain of bright blonde hair hid most of the girl's blushing face, but Strike could see tears of pain leaking out of one eye. "Sorry!" His loud voice echoed around the stairwell. " I didn't see you - didn't expect anyone to be there ..."
Strike pushed open the door with his fingertips, so as to have no accidental contact with her while she stood huddled against it, and ushered her into the office. "I'm OK", lied Robin, in a quavering voice , still hunched over, with her hand to her chest, her back to him. After a second or two, she straightened up and turned around, her face scarlet and her eyes still wet.
Her accidental assailant was massive: his height, his general hairiness, coupled with a gently expanding belly, suggested a grizzly bear. Strike had the high, bulging forehead, broad nose and thick brows of a young Beethoven, who had taken to boxing. One of his eyes was puffy and bruised, the skin just below the eyebrow cut. He looked older than his thirty-five years.
"Are you Mr. Strike?"
"Yeah".
"I - I'm the temp".
"The what?"
"The temp from Temporary Solutions"
The name of the agency did not wipe the incredulous look from his battered face. They stared at each other, unnerved and antagonistic.
Just like Robin, Corrnoran Strike knew that he would forever remember the last twelve hours as an epoch-changing night in his life. There was not supposed to be a temp. He had intended his dismissal of Robin's predecessor to end his contract.
"How long have they sent you for?"
"A-a week to begin with", said Robin, who had been greeted with such a lack of enthusiasm.
Strike made a rapid mental calculation. A week at the agency's exorbitant rate would drive his overdraft into the region of irreparable; it might even be the final straw.
"Listen, if you don't need me, I'll go", said Robin with dignity.
"No - no, not at all", said a voice issuing from Strike's mouth, though he listened to it with disgust. "A week - yeah, that'll be fine. Er - the post is here..." He scooped it from the doormat as he spoke and scattered it on the bare desk in front of her. "Yeah, if you could open that, answer the phone, generally sort of tidy up, - computer password's Hartherill23, I'll write it down ..." This he did, under her wary, doubtful gaze. "There you go - I'll be in here".
He strode into the inner office, closed the door carefully behind him and then stood quite still, gazing at the kitbag under the bare desk. It contained everything he owned. And now the impossibility of paying off his mountainous debts, the appalling consequences, the misery of it all seemed to rear up in front of him. From the other side of the insubstantial wall came muffled sounds of movement. The Temporary Solution was no doubt starting up the computer, and would shortly discover that he had not received a single work-related email in three weeks. Then, at his own request, she would start opening all his final demands. Exhausted, sore and hungry, Strike slid his face down on to the desk again, muffling his eyes and ears in his encircling arms, so that he did not have to listen while his humiliation was laid bare next door by a stranger.
Explanatory Notes
Eros - Greek god of love
Piccadilly Circus - a road junction and public space of London's West End in the City of Westminster. It was built in 1819 to connect Regent Street with Piccadilly. In this context, a circus, from the Latin word meaning "circle", is a round open space at a street junction.
Oxford Street - a major road in the City of Westminster in the West End of London, running from Tottenham Court Road to Marble Arch via Oxford Circus. It is Europe's busiest shopping street, with around half a million daily visitors.
Yorkshire - formally known as the County of York, a county of Northern England and the largest in the United Kingdom.
Sellotape - a British brand of transparent tape, and is the leading brand in the United Kingdom. Sellotape is generally used for joining, sealing, attaching and mending.
The Grizzly bear, also known as the North American brown bear, is a large population of the brown bear inhabiting North America.
Overdraft - an extension of credit from a lending institution that is granted when an account reaches zero. The overdraft allows the account holder to continue withdrawing money even when the account has no funds in it or has insufficient funds to cover the amount of the withdrawal. Basically, overdraft means that the bank allows customers to borrow a set amount of money. There is interest on the loan, and there is typically a fee per overdraft. At many banks, this fee is around $35.
Vocabulary Notes
1. hair
a hair-cut, hair-do, hair-style - стрижка. прическа
to have one's hair bobbed/ to wear one's hair in a bob - подстричься/носить короткие волосы
to wear one's hair loose - носить волосы распущенными
shoulder length hair - волосы до плеч
hair-raising - страшный, ужасный
to let one's hair down - отдохнуть, расслабиться
to be pulling/tearing one's hair out - сильно расстраиваться
to split hairs - придавать большое значение неважным вещам
not have a hair out of place - выглядеть очень аккуратным и опрятным
did not turn a hair - и глазом не моргнул
2. heart
to have a weak/bad heart - иметь больное, слабое сердце
to have a kind/good/big heart - быть добрым, великодушным
to get to the heart of something - добраться до сути
to break one's heart - разбить сердце, огорчить
from the heart - от всего сердца
Have a heart! - Сжальтесь!
to set one's heart on something - страстно желать чего-то, стремиться к чему-либо.
heart swells with pride/happiness - быть переполненным гордостью, счастьем
to lose heart - падать духом
a man/woman after your own heart - человек по душе, сердцу
to learn by heart - учить наизусть
to open/pour out one's heart - излить душу
to put your heart into something - вложить душу
to take something to heart - принять близко к сердцу
3. save, v.
to save time/ energy/ effort - беречь время, силы, усилия
to save up (for) - экономить (на что-либо)
to save somebody doing something - избавить от хлопот
to save face - спасти репутацию
to save the situation - спасти положение
saving
savings - сбережения
to make savings - откладывать деньги
savings account - счет в банке
4. mind, n.
state of mind - настроение, состояние духа
to be/ go out of one's mind - сойти с ума
to be in two minds about something - не решаться, сомневаться
to bear / keep something in mind - помнить, иметь в виду
to change one's mind about something - передумать
to come to one's mind/ to cross one's mind - приходить в голову
to have something in mind - планировать что-то
to have a mind of one's own - иметь собственное мнение
to know one's own mind - знать, чего хочешь
to make up one's mind - принять решение
to slip one's mind - выскочить из головы
to speak one's mind - говорить прямо, не кривить душой
to take one's mind off something - отвлечь от чего-то
to my mind - на мой взгляд
mind, v
to mind somebody/something - присматривать за кем-то
Mind the step! - Осторожно, ступенька!
Never mind!- Ничего!
Mind your own business! - Занимайся своим делом! Не вмешивайся!
5. misery
misery of life - тяготы жизни
miseries of war - бедствия войны
to make one's life a misery - делать чью-то жизнь несчастной
miserable
miserable life/ marriage - несчастная жизнь, брак
to feel/ look miserable - чувствовать себя (выглядеть) несчастным
a miserable sum/ salary - ничтожная сумма/мизерная зарплата
miserable weather - скверная погода
6. push, v.
to push one's way through/into something - прокладывать путь, пробиваться
to push somebody into doing something - заставлять кого-то что-то сделать
to push somebody around/about - грубо обращаться, третировать кого-то.
to push drugs - торговать наркотиками
to push a trolley/pram - катить тележку, коляску
to push a button - нажать кнопку
push, n
to do something at a push - делать что-то трудное при необходимости
