- زمان مطالعه 4 دقیقه
- سطح ساده
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»
این فصل را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زیبوک» بخوانید
متن انگلیسی فصل
The Road to London
They drove the rest of the journey in silence.
Three hours later, when they stopped to get petrol, they were still nervous.
‘I need to get some air,’ Vanessa said, getting out of the car. ‘Are you coming, too, Shauna?’
Shauna shook her head.
Vanessa didn’t want to go anywhere by herself. She turned to Harminda.
‘What about you?’ she asked.
‘I want to leave as soon as I’ve filled the car up with petrol,’ said Harminda.
Vanessa felt stupid for being so nervous, but she couldn’t stop herself.
In the toilets she looked at herself in the mirror and laughed. She looked terrible. Without make-up she looked older than thirty-five.
But she was alive.
When Ben left her for her best friend, she was only twenty-five with the lead role in a musical that was going to take her all over the world. But she gave it all up because she loved him and she didn’t want to be away from him.
In the end, he left her anyway.
There were other boyfriends, but for the last ten years she never really loved anyone else because she never wanted to be hurt again. She was never afraid of anything, because there was nothing left to lose… until today.
Now, after the crash, things were different. Vanessa wanted to live. She wanted to change.
Why didn’t she listen to Harminda? Why didn’t they go to the police before? Now it was too late. Why did she never listen?
She went inside and ordered a cup of coffee.
The person behind the bar was reading a newspaper. Vanessa saw the date: 22 December. They only left Galway yesterday. It seemed a lot longer.
There was a small television on the wall over the bar. The news was on.
A body was found in the car park of Galway Airport, Ireland, in the early hours of this morning. Thirty-three-year-old Colin O’Flaherty, manager of a car hire at Galway Airport, was shot in the chest. The police believe the killing was related to drug trafficking…’
‘It’s terrible, isn’t it?’ said the barman, passing Vanessa her glass of water. Vanessa realised that she was staring at the television. Her face was white, her mouth open. ‘It’s in the newspapers… look…’ He passed her the newspaper.
‘FAMILY MAN KILLED IN DRUGS SHOOTING’ said the headline. In the centre of the page there was a photo of Colin O’Flaherty on holiday with his three-year-old son. They were obviously on a boat and Colin was holding a very big fish. They looked so happy.
Vanessa felt sick.
She looked back at the television; a young woman was crying. At the bottom of the screen, Vanessa read, ‘Mrs Moira O’Flaherty, Mr O’Flaherty’s wife.’
‘If anyone knows anything, anything at all… please - for my little boy - please contact the police.’ Her voice sounded more and more desperate. Vanessa felt like the woman was talking directly to her.
‘Anything at all… please…’
Vanessa couldn’t hear any more. She ran from the bar, still holding the newspaper in her left hand.
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