4:30 AM
DAISY drained her cup of tea and filled it up again with whisky.
Kit1 felt unbearably2 tense. Nigel and Elton might be able to keep up the pretense3 of being innocent travelers accidentally stranded4, but Daisy was hopeless. She looked like a gangster5 and acted like a hooligan.
When she put the bottle down on the kitchen table, Stanley picked it up. "Don't get drunk, there's a good girl," he said mildly. He stoppered the bottle.
Daisy was not used to people telling her what to do. Mostly they were too frightened. She looked at Stanley as if she was ready to kill him. He was elegantly vulnerable in his gray pajamas6 and black robe. Kit waited for the explosion.
"A little whisky makes you feel better, but a lot makes you feel worse," Stanley said. He put the bottle in a cupboard. "My father used to say that, and he was fond of whisky."
Daisy was suppressing her rage. The effort was visible to Kit. He feared what might happen if she should lose it. Then the tension was broken by his sister Miranda, who came in wearing a pink nightgown with a flower pattern.
Stanley said, "Hello, my dear, you're up early."
"I couldn't sleep. I've been on the sleepchair in Kit's old study. Don't ask why." She looked at the strangers. "It's early for Christmas visitors."
"This is my daughter Miranda," Stanley said. "Mandy, meet Nigel, Elton, and Daisy."
A few minutes ago, Kit had introduced them to his father and, before he realized his mistake, he had given their real names.
Miranda nodded to them. "Did Santa bring you?" she said brightly.
Kit explained. "Their car died on the main road near our turnoff. I picked them up, then my car gave out, too, and we walked the rest of the way here." Would she believe it? And would she ask about the burgundy leather briefcase7 that stood on the kitchen table like a bomb?
She questioned a different aspect of the story. "I didn't know you'd left the house—where on earth did you go, in the middle of the night, in this weather?"
"Oh, you know." Kit had thought about how he would respond to this question, and now he put on a sheepish grin. "Couldn't sleep, felt lonely, went to look up an old girlfriend in Inverburn."
"Which one? Most of the young women in Inverburn are old girlfriends of yours."
"I don't think you know her." He thought of a name quickly. "Lisa Fremont." He almost bit his tongue. She was a character in a Hitchcock movie.
Miranda did not react to the name. "Was she pleased to see you?"
"She wasn't in."
Miranda turned away and picked up the coffeepot.
Kit wondered whether she believed him. The story he had made up was not really good enough. However, Miranda could not possibly guess why he was lying. She would assume he was involved with a woman he didn't want people to know about—probably someone's wife.
While Miranda was pouring coffee, Stanley addressed Nigel. "Where are you from? You don't sound Scots." It seemed like small talk, but Kit knew his father was probing.
Nigel answered in the same relaxed tone. "I live in Surrey, work in London. My office is in Canary Wharf8."
"You're in the financial world."
"I source high-tech9 systems for third-world countries, mainly the Middle East. A young oil sheik wants his own discotheque and doesn't know where to buy the gear, so he comes to me and I solve his problem." It sounded pat.
Miranda brought her coffee to the table and sat opposite Daisy. "What nice gloves," she said. Daisy was wearing expensive-looking light brown suede10 gloves that were soaking wet. "Why don't you dry them?"
Kit tensed. Any conversation with Daisy was hazardous11.
Daisy gave a hostile look, but Miranda did not see it, and persisted. "You need to stuff them, so they'll keep their shape," she said. She took a roll of paper towel from the counter. "Here, use this."
"I'm fine," Daisy muttered angrily.
Miranda raised her eyebrows12 in surprise. "Have I said something to offend you?"
Kit thought, Oh, God, here it comes.
Nigel stepped in. "Don't be daft, Daisy, you don't want to spoil your gloves." There was an edge of insistence13 in his voice, making the words sound more like an order than a suggestion. He was as worried as Kit. "Do what the lady says, she's being nice to you."
Once again, Kit waited for the explosion. But, to his surprise, Daisy took off her gloves. Kit was astonished to see that she had small, neat hands. He had never noticed that. The rest of her was brutish: the black eye makeup14, the broken nose, the zippered15 jacket, the boots. But her hands were beautiful, and she obviously knew it, for they were well manicured, with clean nails and a pale pink nail varnish16. Kit was bemused. Somewhere inside that monster there was an ordinary girl, he realized. What had happened to her? She had been brought up by Harry17 Mac, that was what.
Miranda helped her stuff the wet gloves with paper towel. "How arc you three connected?" she asked Daisy. Her tone was conventionally polite, as if she were making conversation at a dinner party, but she was probing. Like Stanley, she had no idea how dangerous it was.
Daisy looked panicked. She made Kit think of a schoolgirl being questioned on homework she has forgotten to do. Kit wanted to fill the awkward silence, but it would look odd if he answered for her. After a moment, Nigel spoke18. "Daisy's father is an old friend of mine."
That was fine, Kit thought, though Miranda would wonder why Daisy could not have said it herself.
Nigel added, "And Elton works for me."
Miranda smiled at Elton. "Right-hand man?"
"Driver," he replied brusquely. Kit reflected that it was a good thing Nigel was personable—he had to supply enough charm for the three of them.
Stanley said, "Well, I'm sorry the weather has turned out so poorly for your Christmas in Scotland."
Nigel smiled. "If I'd wanted to sunbathe19, I would have gone to Barbados."
"You and Daisy's father must be good friends, to spend Christmas together."
Nigel nodded. "We go way back."
It seemed obvious to Kit that Nigel was lying. Was that because he knew the truth? Or was it apparent to Stanley and Miranda, too? Kit could not sit still any longer: the strain was unbearable20. He jumped up. "I'm hungry," he said. "Dad, is it okay if I scramble21 some eggs for everyone?"
"Of course."
"I'll give you a hand," Miranda said. She put sliced bread in the toaster.
Stanley said, "Anyway, I hope the weather improves soon. When were you planning to return to London?"
Kit got a pack of bacon out of the fridge. Was his father suspicious, or merely curious?
"Heading back on Boxing Day," Nigel said.
"A short Christmas visit," Stanley commented, still gently challenging rhe story.
Nigel shrugged22. "Work to do, you know."
"You may have to stay longer than you anticipated. I can't see them clearing the roads by tomorrow."
The thought seemed to make Nigel anxious. He pushed up the sleeve of his pink sweater and looked at his watch.
Kit realized he needed to do something to show he was not in league with Nigel and the other two. As he began to make breakfast, he resolved not to defend or excuse the strangers. On the contrary, he should question Nigel skeptically, as if he mistrusted the story. He might deflect23 suspicion from himself by pretending that he, too, was dubious24 about the strangers.
Before he could put his resolution into practice, Elton suddenly became talkative. "How about your Christmas, Professor?" he said. Kit had introduced his father as Professor Oxenford. "Got your family all around you, it seems. What, two children?"
"Three."
"With husbands and wives, of course."
"My daughters have partners. Kit's single."
"And grandchildren?"
"Yes."
"How many? If you don't mind me asking."
"I don't mind in the least. I have four grandchildren."
"Are all the grandkids here?"
"Yes."
"That's nice for you and Mrs. Oxenford."
"My wife died eighteen months ago, sadly."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Thank you."
What was this interrogation about? Kit asked himself. Elton was smiling and leaning forward, as if his questions were motivated by nothing more than friendly curiosity, but Kit could see that it was a charade25, and he wondered anxiously whether that was just as obvious to his father.
Elton had not finished. "This must be a big house, to sleep, what, ten of you?"
"We have some outbuildings."
"Oh, handy." He looked out of the window, although the snow made it difficult to see anything. "Guest cottages, like."
"There's a cottage and a barn."
"Very useful. And staff quarters, I presume."
"Our staff have a cottage a mile or so away. I doubt if we'll see them today."
"Oh. Shame." Elton lapsed26 into silence again—having carefully established exactly how many people were on the property.
Kit wondered if anyone else had noticed that.
收听单词发音 |
1
kit
|
|
| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
unbearably
|
|
| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
pretense
|
|
| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
stranded
|
|
| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
gangster
|
|
| n.匪徒，歹徒，暴徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
pajamas
|
|
| n.睡衣裤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
briefcase
|
|
| n.手提箱，公事皮包 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
wharf
|
|
| n.码头，停泊处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
high-tech
|
|
| adj.高科技的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
suede
|
|
| n.表面粗糙的软皮革 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
hazardous
|
|
| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
eyebrows
|
|
| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
insistence
|
|
| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
makeup
|
|
| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
zippered
|
|
| v.拉上拉链( zipper的过去式和过去分词 )；用拉链扣上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
varnish
|
|
| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
harry
|
|
| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
sunbathe
|
|
| n.日光浴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
scramble
|
|
| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
deflect
|
|
| v.(使)偏斜，(使)偏离，(使)转向 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
dubious
|
|
| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
charade
|
|
| n.用动作等表演文字意义的字谜游戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
lapsed
|
|
| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |