Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

Франк Илья

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.

"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 [fs’tidijs] –

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

he had not worn for some time, were a little too loud for the way he liked to dress now.

She laughed softly and said, "Tom won't notice the difference."

The three women of the family walked him to the door and out on the driveway to his

car. The two little girls held his hands, one on each side. His wife walked a little behind

him. She was getting pleasure out of how happy he looked. When he reached his car he

turned around and swung each girl in turn high up in the air and kissed her on the way

down. Then he kissed his wife and got into the car. He never liked drawn-out good-byes.

Arrangements had been made by his PR (public relations – связь с

общественностью) man and aide. At his house a chauffeured car was waiting, a rented

car. In it were the PR man and another member of his entourage. Johnny parked his car

and hopped in and they were on their way to the airport. He waited inside the car while

the PR man went out to meet Tom Hagen's plane. When Tom got into the car they

shook hands and drove back to his house.

Finally he and Tom were alone in the living room. There was a coolness between

them. Johnny had never forgiven Hagen for acting as a barrier to his getting in touch

with the Don when the Don was angry with him, in those bad days before Connie's

12

wedding. Hagen never made excuses for his actions. He could not. It was part of his job

to act as a lightning rod for resentments which people were too awed to feel toward the

Don himself though he had earned them.

"Your Godfather sent me out here to give you a hand (помочь) on some things,"

Hagen said. "I wanted to get it out of the way before Christmas."

Johnny Fontane shrugged. "The picture is finished. The director was a square guy

and treated me right. My scenes are too important to be left on the cutting-room floor

just for Woltz to pay me off. He can't ruin a ten-million-dollar picture. So now everything

depends on how good people think I am in the movie."

Hagen said cautiously, "Is winning this Academy Award so terribly important to an

actor's career, or is it just the usual publicity crap that really doesn't mean anything one

way or the other?" He paused and added hastily, "Except of course the glory, everybody

likes glory."

Johnny Fontane grinned at him. "Except my Godfather. And you. No, Tom, it's not a

lot of crap. An Academy Award can make an actor for ten years. He can get his pick

(выбор;

лучшая, отборная часть /чего-либо/) of roles. The public goes to see him. It's

not everything, but for an actor it's the most important thing in the business. I'm counting

on winning it. Not because I'm such a great actor but because I'm known primarily as a

singer and the part is foolproof («защищенный от дурака» = элементарный в

обращении; надежный /без риска неудачи/). And I'm pretty good too, no kidding."

Tom Hagen shrugged and said, "Your Godfather tells me that the way things stand

now, you don't have a chance of winning the award."

Johnny Fontane was angry. "What the hell are you talking about? The picture hasn't

even been cut yet, much less shown. And the Don isn't even in the movie business.

Why the hell did you fly the three thousand miles just to tell me that shit?" He was so