03-02-08-化学秘密 [1]
，“When can you start？”，Mr Duncan．We need you in our factory as soon as possible．Will Monday be OK？'
'You mean I've got the job？'
'Of course．Congratulations！'Wilson shook John's hand．'My secretary will tell you about your pay．You'll have your own office，and a company car，of course．I'd like you to start work with Mary on Monday．Is that OK？'
'I…Yes，yes，of course．That's fine．Thank you，thank you very much．'
■ 1 崭新的开始
“邓肯先生吗？请进。威尔逊先生现在要见你。”
“谢谢。”约翰·邓肯起身胆怯地往门口走。他瘦高个子，大约四十五岁，身着一套灰色旧西服。尽管这套西服已穿了10年，但仍是他最好的西服。他头发灰白，戴一副眼镜，面带忧郁和倦容。
屋内，一个男人站起来欢迎他。“邓肯先生吗？很高兴见到你。我叫大卫·威尔逊。这是玛丽·卡特，我们其中的一位化学师。”
约翰·邓肯与他俩握手后坐下。这是一间宽大的办公室，地上铺着厚地毯，墙上悬挂着美丽的画。大卫·威尔逊很年轻，身着一套昂贵的黑色西服，一只手指上戴着一个硕大的金戒指。他对着约翰微笑。
“我让卡特小姐来是因为她是我们最好的化学师之一。事实上是她发现了我们最美妙的新油漆……我是说，如果你来这里工作，你将与她一起工作。”
“噢，我明白了。”约翰望着玛丽。她比威尔逊岁数大——也许大约三十五岁，留着棕色短发，长着一副漂亮友善的面孔。她身穿一件白外套，上方的口袋里插着许多钢笔。她友善地对约翰微笑，但约翰却感到痛苦。
他想：我永远不会得到这份工作。我太老了！雇主们现在想聘更年轻的人。
大卫·威尔逊正在看一些文件。“我说，邓肯先生，我知道你是一个非常出色的生物学家。”他说道，“你曾在大学工作过，然后又在两家著名的公司干过。但是你作为一个生物学家9年前停止了工作，这是为什么？”
“在我一生中我永远有两种兴趣，”约翰答道，“生物学和划船。我太太是一位有名的水手……雷切尔·霍斯利……也许你记得她。她独自乘小船环绕世界。”
“是的，我记得她，”大卫·威尔逊说道。
“所以我们开始做生意，”约翰说。“我们共同制造小船，并且出售。”
“生意进展得好吗？”威尔逊问道。
“一开始很好，然后我们就想造更大更好的船。我们借了太多钱。其后我的太太……”约翰停住了讲话。
“是的，赛文斯比赛，我现在想起来了，”大卫·威尔逊说道。
俩人都陷入片刻沉默。威尔逊记起报纸上报道的那场风暴和海上死亡事件。他望着忧伤地坐在他面前的这个人。
“所以，我太太去世后，”约翰继续说，“我停止了生意，那是5年前的事了。”
“我明白了，”大卫·威尔逊说，“生意界是很艰难的。”他望着约翰那灰色的旧西服。“这么说你想得到一份生物学家的工作。这是一家化学公司，邓肯先生。我们制造油漆。我们需要一名生物学家以保证工厂的一切都安全。我们需要有人告诉政府在这里工作是安全的，并且告诉他们城市附近有油漆厂也是安全的。这对我们很重要。”
“如果有什么不安全的，我们当然要改变它，”玛丽·卡特说。大卫·威尔逊看着她，但没有说任何话。
“是的，我知道。”约翰紧张地说，“我想我能够做。我的意思是，当我在伦敦为哈波化学公司工作时，我……”他谈了两三分钟关于他的工作的事。大卫·威尔逊听着，但没插话，然后他微笑着。那是一种冰冷、严酷的笑，它使约翰感到很不舒服。他想起他的旧西服和灰头发，他后悔来这里。
“你真的很需要这份工作，是吧，邓肯先生？”大卫·威尔逊说，“你非常迫切地需要它。”
“是的，”他轻声地回答。但是他想：我恨你，威尔逊。你喜欢看着我的这副样子。你喜欢使人感到渺小，我恨你这样的人。
威尔逊的笑容变得更灿烂。他站起身，伸出手说：“好吧，你什么时候能开始？”
“什么？”约翰很惊讶，“你说什么？”
“我说'你什么时候能开始？'邓肯先生。我们需要你尽快到我们工厂，星期一行吗？”
“你是说我已得到这份工作了？”
“当然，祝贺你！”威尔逊握着约翰的手。“我的秘书将告诉你有关你的工资的事，你当然还有自己的办公室和公司配给你的车。我想让你星期一就开始与玛丽一起工作，那样行吗？”
“我……行，当然可以。这很好，谢谢你，非常感谢。”
■ 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
'You mean I've got the job？'
'Of course．Congratulations！'Wilson shook John's hand．'My secretary will tell you about your pay．You'll have your own office，and a company car，of course．I'd like you to start work with Mary on Monday．Is that OK？'
'I…Yes，yes，of course．That's fine．Thank you，thank you very much．'
■ 1 崭新的开始
“邓肯先生吗？请进。威尔逊先生现在要见你。”
“谢谢。”约翰·邓肯起身胆怯地往门口走。他瘦高个子，大约四十五岁，身着一套灰色旧西服。尽管这套西服已穿了10年，但仍是他最好的西服。他头发灰白，戴一副眼镜，面带忧郁和倦容。
屋内，一个男人站起来欢迎他。“邓肯先生吗？很高兴见到你。我叫大卫·威尔逊。这是玛丽·卡特，我们其中的一位化学师。”
约翰·邓肯与他俩握手后坐下。这是一间宽大的办公室，地上铺着厚地毯，墙上悬挂着美丽的画。大卫·威尔逊很年轻，身着一套昂贵的黑色西服，一只手指上戴着一个硕大的金戒指。他对着约翰微笑。
“我让卡特小姐来是因为她是我们最好的化学师之一。事实上是她发现了我们最美妙的新油漆……我是说，如果你来这里工作，你将与她一起工作。”
“噢，我明白了。”约翰望着玛丽。她比威尔逊岁数大——也许大约三十五岁，留着棕色短发，长着一副漂亮友善的面孔。她身穿一件白外套，上方的口袋里插着许多钢笔。她友善地对约翰微笑，但约翰却感到痛苦。
他想：我永远不会得到这份工作。我太老了！雇主们现在想聘更年轻的人。
大卫·威尔逊正在看一些文件。“我说，邓肯先生，我知道你是一个非常出色的生物学家。”他说道，“你曾在大学工作过，然后又在两家著名的公司干过。但是你作为一个生物学家9年前停止了工作，这是为什么？”
“在我一生中我永远有两种兴趣，”约翰答道，“生物学和划船。我太太是一位有名的水手……雷切尔·霍斯利……也许你记得她。她独自乘小船环绕世界。”
“是的，我记得她，”大卫·威尔逊说道。
“所以我们开始做生意，”约翰说。“我们共同制造小船，并且出售。”
“生意进展得好吗？”威尔逊问道。
“一开始很好，然后我们就想造更大更好的船。我们借了太多钱。其后我的太太……”约翰停住了讲话。
“是的，赛文斯比赛，我现在想起来了，”大卫·威尔逊说道。
俩人都陷入片刻沉默。威尔逊记起报纸上报道的那场风暴和海上死亡事件。他望着忧伤地坐在他面前的这个人。
“所以，我太太去世后，”约翰继续说，“我停止了生意，那是5年前的事了。”
“我明白了，”大卫·威尔逊说，“生意界是很艰难的。”他望着约翰那灰色的旧西服。“这么说你想得到一份生物学家的工作。这是一家化学公司，邓肯先生。我们制造油漆。我们需要一名生物学家以保证工厂的一切都安全。我们需要有人告诉政府在这里工作是安全的，并且告诉他们城市附近有油漆厂也是安全的。这对我们很重要。”
“如果有什么不安全的，我们当然要改变它，”玛丽·卡特说。大卫·威尔逊看着她，但没有说任何话。
“是的，我知道。”约翰紧张地说，“我想我能够做。我的意思是，当我在伦敦为哈波化学公司工作时，我……”他谈了两三分钟关于他的工作的事。大卫·威尔逊听着，但没插话，然后他微笑着。那是一种冰冷、严酷的笑，它使约翰感到很不舒服。他想起他的旧西服和灰头发，他后悔来这里。
“你真的很需要这份工作，是吧，邓肯先生？”大卫·威尔逊说，“你非常迫切地需要它。”
“是的，”他轻声地回答。但是他想：我恨你，威尔逊。你喜欢看着我的这副样子。你喜欢使人感到渺小，我恨你这样的人。
威尔逊的笑容变得更灿烂。他站起身，伸出手说：“好吧，你什么时候能开始？”
“什么？”约翰很惊讶，“你说什么？”
“我说'你什么时候能开始？'邓肯先生。我们需要你尽快到我们工厂，星期一行吗？”
“你是说我已得到这份工作了？”
“当然，祝贺你！”威尔逊握着约翰的手。“我的秘书将告诉你有关你的工资的事，你当然还有自己的办公室和公司配给你的车。我想让你星期一就开始与玛丽一起工作，那样行吗？”
“我……行，当然可以。这很好，谢谢你，非常感谢。”
■ 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