The Help / Прислуга. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“And then there’s the poolhouse out yonder,” she sighs.

I’d take any job I can get at this point, but a big house like this should pay plenty. And I don’t mind being busy. I ain’t afraid to work. “When you gone have you some chilluns, start filling up all these beds?” I try to smile, look friendly.

“Oh, we’re gonna have some kids.” She clears her throat, fidgets. “I mean, kids is the only thing worth living for.” She looks down at her feet. A second passes before she heads back to the stairs.

I follow behind, noticing how she holds the stair rail tight on the way down, like she’s afraid she might fall.

It’s back in the dining room that Miss Celia starts shaking her head. “It’s an awful lot to do,” she says. “All the bedrooms and the floors…”

“Yes ma’am, it’s big,” I say, thinking if she saw my house with a cot in the hall and one toilet for six behinds, she’d probably run. “But I got lots a energy.”

“…and then there’s all this silver to clean.

”

She opens up a silver closet the size of my living room. She fixes a candle that’s turned funny on the candelabra and I can see why she’s looking so doubtful.

After the town got word of Miss Hilly’s lies, three ladies in a row hung up on me the minute I said my name[26 - three ladies in a row hung up on me the minute I said my name – (искаж.) три дамы повесили трубку, как только услышали мое имя].

I ready myself for the blow. Say it, lady. Say what you thinking about me and your silver. I feel like crying thinking about how this job would suit me fine and what Miss Hilly’s done to keep me from getting it. I fix my eyes on the window, hoping and praying this isn’t where the interview ends.

“I know, those windows are awful high. I never tried to clean them before.”

I let my breath go. Windows are a heck of a lot better subject for me than silver. “I ain’t afraid a no windows.

I clean Miss Walters’ top to bottom ever four weeks.”

“Did she have just the one floor or a double decker?”

“Well, one… but they’s a lot to it. Old houses got a lot a nooks and crannies, you know.”

Finally, we go back in the kitchen. We both stare down at the breakfast table, but neither one of us sits. I’m getting so jittery wondering what she’s thinking, my head starts to sweat.

“You got a big, pretty house,” I say.