2 At home 
　  
　　'Hi，Dad．Your supper's in the kitchen．' 
　　John's sixteen-year-old daughter，Christine，was sitting at the table doing her homework．His son Andrew，who was thirteen，was watching television． 
　　'Thanks，Christine，'John said．'I'm sorry I'm late．Is everything OK？' 
　　'Fine，thanks．'Christine gave him a quick smile，then con-tinued with her work．John got his food from the kitchen．Fried fish and chips．The food was dry and didn't taste very good．But he didn't say anything about that．John was not a good cook himself and his children were no better．His wife had been a good cook，he remembered． 
　　John tried to eat the terrible supper and looked around the small，miserable flat．The furniture was twenty years old，the wallpaper and carpets were cheap and dirty．The rooms were all small，and he could see no trees or gardens from the win-dows—just the lights from hundreds of other flats．And there were books，clothes，and newspapers on the floor． 
　　Once，when his wife had been alive， he had had a fine house．A beautiful big house in the country，with a large gar-den．They had had lots of new furniture，two cars，expensive holidays—everything they needed．He had had a good job；they hadn't needed to think about money．And then he had started the boat-building company，and his luck had ended． 
　　When Rachel had died，John had been terribly unhappy—much too unhappy to think about business．A few months later his company had closed，and he had lost all his money．John had had to sell his beautiful house in the country，and move to this miserable flat． 
　　And for the last two years， he hadn't had a job at all．He was a poor man，and an unlucky one， too．He had tried for lots of jobs，and got none of them．There were too many bright young biologists．But now that was all going to change．He looked at his daughter and smiled． 
　　'Did you have a good day at school，Christine？'he asked her． 
　　'Oh，all right，I suppose，'she said．She didn't look very happy．'I've got a letter for you．' 
　　She pushed the letter across the table，and he opened it．It was from her school．One of the teachers was taking the chil-dren on a skiing holiday to the mountains in Switzerland．It cost ￡ 400 for ten days．Parents who wanted their children to go had to send the money to the school before February 25th． 
　　John's smile grew bigger．'Do you want to go on this holi-day，Christine？'he asked． 
　　She looked at him strangely．'Of course I do， Dad，'she said．'But I can't，can I？We haven't got ￡ 400．' 
　　'No，I suppose not．'He looked at her carefully through his thick glasses．She was a clever，strong girl—good at her schoolwork，good at sports．But she had never been skiing；John hadn't had enough money． 
　　'Are your friends going？'he asked her． 
　　'Some of them，yes．Miranda，Jane， Nigel—the rich ones，you know．But they often go skiing；it's easy for them．I know I can't go， Dad．Throw the letter away．' 
　　John looked at her，and felt his heart beating quickly．'No，don't do that，Christine，'he said．'Perhaps you can go，if you want to．Why not？' 
　　Christine laughed．'What's happened， Dad？Have you robbed a bank or something？' 
　　John stood up．He went into the kitchen and got himself a drink．'No，'he said，when he came back．'But something interesting happened today．Put your homework away，Chris-tine—and turn that TV off，Andrew．I've got something to tell you．' 
　　'Oh，not now，Dad！'said Andrew．'This is an exciting story．' 
　　John smiled．'I've got an exciting story，too，Andrew．Come and listen．' 
　　John Duncan's children lived in an old，untidy flat， they had no money，and they often ate awful food．Bux they could still talk to their father．So Andrew turned off the TV，and sat down in a big armchair beside his father and Christine． 
　　The story didn't sound very exciting at first．'I went to a factory today，'John said．'That paint factory by the river．No，wait，Andrew．Paint factories can be very exciting．They gave me a job there．I'm going to have my own office， a big car，lots of money—in fact， we're going to be rich…！'  
　 
2在家中 
　  
　　“喂，爸爸。你的晚餐在厨房里。” 
　　约翰16岁的女儿克里斯汀正坐在桌旁做功课。他13岁的儿子安德鲁正在看电视。 
　　“谢谢你，克里斯汀，”约翰说。“很抱歉，我回来晚了，你一切都好吗？” 
　　“好，谢谢。”克里斯汀朝他匆匆一笑，又继续做作业。约翰从厨房端出食物——炸鱼和薯条。食物很干，不怎么好吃，但是他什么也没说。约翰自己不善于烹饪，他的孩子们更不行。他回想起他的太太曾是很好的厨师。 
　　约翰努力吃下这难咽的晚餐，环视着这又小又简陋的公寓。家具是20年前买的，壁纸和地毯既廉价又脏。所有的房间都很小，从窗口往外看去见不到树林或花园，只有从数百家别的公寓里透出的灯光。地上到处扔着书、衣服和报纸。 
　　以前他太太活着的时候，他有一座很好的房子，一座坐落在乡村，有很大花园的漂亮的大房子。他们曾有很多崭新的家具、两部汽车、奢侈的假期——应有尽有。他有一份满意的工作，他们不用考虑钱。然后他创办了造船公司，接着他的运气结束了。 
　　雷切尔死后，约翰一直很忧郁，太忧郁以至于无心考虑生意。几个月以后他的公司关闭了，他失去了所有的钱。约翰不得不卖掉乡村房子，搬进这简陋的公寓。 
　　在过去的两年中他根本没有工作。他是一个贫穷的人，也是一个倒霉的人，他试找了许多工作，但没有得到一份工作。智慧、年轻的生物学家太多了。但是现在这一切都将发生变化。他微笑着望着他女儿。 
　　“今天你在学校过得愉快吗，克里斯汀？”他问她。 
　　“噢，我想还行，”她说。她看上去并不很高兴。“我有一封给你的信。” 
　　她把信从桌上推过来，他打开信。信来自她的学校。有个老师要带学生们到瑞士的山上去滑雪度假。10天的费用是400英镑。想让自己的孩子去的家长得在2月25日前把钱交到学校。 
　　约翰的笑容更加灿烂了。“克里斯汀，你想参加这次度假吗？”他问。 
　　她奇怪地望着他。“我当然想，爸爸。”她说，“但是我不能去，对吧？我们没有400英镑。” 
　　“是的，我估计不能。”他透过厚厚的眼镜小心地看着她。她是一个聪明坚强的女孩，她功课、体育都很好。但是她从来没有滑过雪，因为约翰没有足够的钱。 
　　“你的朋友们去吗？”他问她。 
　　“有些人去，那些较富的同学，如米兰达、珍妮、奈杰尔。他们经常去滑雪，这对他们来说很容易。我知道我不能去，爸爸。把信扔掉吧。” 
　　约翰望着她，感到心跳加快。“不，别这样做，克里斯汀，”他说，“也许你能够去，如果你想去。为什么不能呢？” 
　　克里斯汀笑了。“发生什么事了，爸爸？难道你抢了银行或什么？” 
　　约翰站起身，走进厨房为自己倒了一杯饮料。“没有，”他回来时说，“但是，今天发生了有趣的事情。克里斯汀，先把你的作业放一下，安德鲁，把那电视关上，我有事要告诉你们。” 
　　“哦，等一下关，爸爸，”安德鲁说，“这是一个精彩的故事。” 
　　约翰笑着说：“我也有一个精彩的故事，安德鲁，过来听听。” 
　　约翰·邓肯的孩子们住在一间旧式杂乱的公寓里，他们没有钱，经常吃糟糕的食品。但是他们仍愿跟他们的父亲交谈。所以安德鲁关掉电视，坐在他的父亲和克里斯汀旁边的一张大沙发里。 
　　故事一开始听起来并不很精彩。约翰说：“今天我去了一个工厂。河边的那家油漆厂。不，等一下，安德鲁。油漆厂会是很精彩。他们给了我一份工作。我将有自己的办公室、一辆大型汽车、很多钱。真的，我们要富起来了。” 
　　　    


 