Английский язык с Крестным Отцом — страница 3 из 74

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. It could bring me all the way back. If I get the Academy thing

8

and play my cards right, I can make it big again even without the singing. Then maybe I

can give you and the kids more dough (тесто; деньги /сленг/ [d∂u])."

"We have more than enough," Ginny said.

"I wanta see more of the kids too," Johnny said. "I want to settle down a little bit. Why

can't I come every Friday night for dinner here? I swear I'll never miss one Friday, I don't

care how far away I am or how busy I am. And then whenever I can I'll spend weekends

or maybe the kids can spend some part of their vacations with me."

Ginny put an ashtray on his chest. "It's OK with me," she said. "I never got married

because I wanted you to keep being their father." She said this without any kind of

emotion, but Johnny Fontane, staring up at the ceiling, knew she said it as an

atonement (компенсация, возмещение) for those other things, the cruel things she had

once said to him when their marriage had broken up, when his career had started going

down the drain (дренажная канава, водосток, канализация).

"By the way, guess who called me," she said.

Johnny wouldn't play that game, he never did. "Who?" he asked.

Ginny said, "You could take at least one lousy guess." Johnny didn't answer. "Your

Godfather," she said.

Johnny was really surprised. "He never talks to anybody on the phone. What did he

say to you?"

"He told me to help you," Ginny said. "He said you could be as big as you ever were,

that you were on your way back, but that you needed people to believe in you. I asked

him why should I? And he said because you're the father of my children. He's such a

sweet old guy and they tell such horrible stories about him."

Virginia hated phones and she had had all the extensions (удлинение, расширение;

удлинитель, добавочный телефон) taken out except for the one in her bedroom and

one in the kitchen. Now they could hear the kitchen phone ringing. She went to answer

it. When she came back into the living room there was a look of surprise on her face.

"It's for you, Johnny," she said. "It's Tom Hagen. He says it's important."

Johnny went into the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Yeah, Tom," he said.

Tom Hagen's voice was cool. "Johnny, the Godfather wants me to come out and see

you and set some things up that can help you out now that the picture is finished. He

wants me to catch the morning plane. Can you meet it in Los Angeles? I have to fly


Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франкаwww.franklang.ru




back to New York the same night so you won't have to worry about keeping your night

free for me."

"Sure, Tom," Johnny said. "And don't worry about me losing a night. Stay over and

relax a bit. I'll throw a party and you can meet some movie people." He always made

9

that offer, he didn't want the folks from his old neighborhood to think he was ashamed of

them.

"Thanks," Hagen said, "but I really have to catch the early morning plane back. OK,

you'll meet the eleven-thirty A.M. out of New York?"

"Sure," Johnny said.

"Stay in your car," Hagen said. "Send one of your people to meet me when I get off

the plane and bring me to you."

"Right," Johnny said.

He went back to the living room and Ginny looked at him inquiringly. "My Godfather

has some plan for me, to help me out," Johnny said. "He got me the part in the movie, I

don't know how. But I wish he'd stay out of the rest of it."

He went back onto the sofa. He felt very tired. Ginny said, "Why don't you sleep in the

guest bedroom tonight instead of going home? You can have breakfast with the kids

and you won't have to drive home so late. I hate to think of you all alone in that house of

yours anyway. Don't you get lonely?"

"I don't stay home much," Johnny said.

She laughed and said, "Then you haven't changed much." She paused and then said,

"Shall I fix up the other bedroom?"

Johnny said, "Why can't I sleep in your bedroom?"

She flushed. "No," she said. She smiled at him and he smiled back. They were still

friends.

When Johnny woke up the next morning it was late, he could tell by the sun coming in

through the drawn blinds. It never came in that way unless it was in the afternoon. He

yelled, "Hey, Ginny, do I still rate (заслуживать, удоставиваться) breakfast?" And far

away he heard her voice call, "Just a second."

And it was just a second. She must have had everything ready, hot in the oven, the tray

waiting to be loaded, because as Johnny lit his first cigarette of the day, the door of the

bedroom opened and his two small daughters came in wheeling the breakfast cart

(тележка, тачка; здесь: поднос на колесиках).

They were so beautiful it broke his heart. Their faces were shining and clear, their

eyes alive with curiosity and the eager desire to run to him. They wore their hair braided


Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франкаwww.franklang.ru




old-fashioned in long pigtails and they wore old-fashioned frocks and white patent-

leather (лакированный) shoes. They stood by the breakfast cart watching him as he

stubbed out his cigarette and waited for him to call and hold his arms wide. Then they

10

came running to him. He pressed his face between their two fresh fragrant cheeks and

scraped them with his beard so that they shrieked. Ginny appeared in the bedroom door

and wheeled the breakfast cart the rest of the way so that he could eat in bed. She sat

beside him on the edge of the bed, pouring his coffee, buttering his toast. The two

young daughters sat on the bedroom couch watching him. They were too old now for

pillow fights or to be tossed (to toss – бросать, кидать, подбрасывать) around. They

were already smoothing their mussed (to muss – приводить в беспорядок, путать)

hair. Oh, Christ, he thought, pretty soon they'll be all grown up, Hollywood punks will be

out after them.

He shared his toast and bacon with them as he ate, gave them sips of coffee. It was a

habit left over from when he had been singing with the band and rarely ate with them so

they liked to share his food when he had his odd-hour meals like afternoon breakfasts

or morning suppers. The change-around in food delighted them – to eat steak and

french fries (картофель фри, чипсы) at seven in the morning, bacon and eggs in the

afternoon.

Only Ginny and a few of his close friends knew how much he idolized his daughters.

That had been the worst thing about the divorce and leaving home. The one thing he

had fought about, and for, was his position as a father to them. In a very sly way he had

made Ginny understand he would not be pleased by her remarrying, not because he

was jealous of her, but because he was jealous of his position as a father. He had

arranged the money to be paid to her so it would be enormously to her advantage

financially not to remarry. It was understood that she could have lovers as long as they

were not introduced into her home life. But on this score he had absolute faith in her.

She had always been amazingly shy and old-fashioned in sex. The Hollywood gigolos

had batted zero (выбивали ноль = ничего не могли добиться; bat – бита /в

бейсболе/) when they started swarming around her, sniffing for the financial settlement

and the favors they could get from her famous husband.

He had no fear that she expected a reconciliation because he had wanted to sleep

with her the night before. Neither one of them wanted to renew their old marriage. She

understood his hunger for beauty, his irresistible impulse toward young women far more

beautiful than she. It was known that he always slept with his movie co-stars at least

once. His boyish charm was irresistible to them, as their beauty was to him.


Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франкаwww.franklang.ru




"You'll have to start getting dressed pretty soon," Ginny said. "Tom's plane will be

getting in." She shooed the daughters out of the room.

"Yeah," Johnny said. "By the way, Ginny, you know I'm getting divorced? I'm gonna

be a free man again."

She watched him getting dressed. He always kept fresh clothes at her house ever

since they had come to their new arrangement after the wedding of Don Corleone's

daughter. "Christmas is only two weeks away," she said. "Shall I plan on you being

here?"

It was the first time he had even thought about the holidays. When his voice was in

11

shape, holidays were lucrative singing dates but even then Christmas was sacred. If he

missed this one, it would be the second one. Last year he had been courting his second

wife in Spain, trying to get her to marry him.

"Yeah," he said. "Christmas Eve and Christmas." He didn't mention New Year's Eve.

That would be one of the wild nights he needed every once in a while, to get drunk with

his friends, and he didn't want a wife along then. He didn't feel guilty about it.

She helped him put on his jacket and brushed it off. He was always fastidiously

(fastidious [f∂s’tıdıj∂s] – привередливо, разборчиво, изощренно) neat. She could see

him frowning because the shirt he had put on was not laundered (to launder ['lo:nd∂] –

стирать и гладить /белье/) to his taste, the cuff links (запонки; cuff – манжета), a pair