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Уровень intermediate (средний), можно выше. Главное, чтобы не ниже.

Погружение в мир английской литературы и в мир английского языка. Читаем, обсуждаем, делимся впечатлениями, делаем выводы — и все это на английском. 

Мы предлагаем вам рассказ, который необходимо прочитать и на встрече мы будем его обсуждать вместе с педагогом.

Lucky Jim

An original short story in C1 Advanced level English, by Walda Cameron

Lucky Jim Conley had raked in millions at the gambling tables, quadrupled his winnings in the stock market, won a fortune in the state lottery. Jason, the only child of Lucky Jim and his beloved Myrna, was used to having his own way. During the two years since Mom’s death, Jason had waited patiently for Lucky Jim to follow suit and bequeath him full control of the family wealth. Jason was eager to be a high roller in his own right.
   But Jim’s luck was outlasting Jason’s patience. After his last medical exam, Lucky Jim’s doc had proclaimed the old man to be fit as a forty-year-old. "Lucky Jim’ll outlive us all, Jason."
   Not if I have my way, Jason thought. No way.
   He breathed in the fog that hung like ghostly sails around the Lucky Too, as they made their way out to the lobster grounds. Jim claimed that that was where the biggest and best fish hung out too.

She was a sturdy boat. Twelve black numbers shone against her white hull. Jason and Lucky Jim sat in chairs on the bridge. Lucky Jim leaned toward his son and yelled over the engine’s noise: "Fog hanging light makes hungry fish bite."
   "Same old crap every time," Jason thought. "But, hey, that’s what gave me my plan. Fishing in the fog….". Jason smiled at his father and nodded. He wouldn’t attempt a reply since the old man’s hearing was his only failing faculty.
   "Mind the lobster pots," the old man hollered.
   Jason nodded again. He knew exactly where the trap buoys were located. He’d come here every day for the past two weeks, drawn diagrams, memorized bobbing floats and channel markers. He’d disabled the maritime radio, concealed his weapon, left nothing to chance.

   They were almost there. The buoy’s fog horn blasted its rude warning every fifteen seconds.
   "I’ll tie up at the buoy," Jason called to Lucky Jim. "You get the lines over."
   Lucky nodded and moved to the stern, carrying two fishing poles.

    Jason put in ear plugs before tieing a heavy rope over the buoy’s flashing light. He pulled it tight under a square metal box half-way between light and water. A wave gauge? Weather predictor? Battery casing? The current swung the stern around. Jason turned toward Lucky Jim.
   The old man stood at the side of the deck, profile toward Jason, head bent, intent on preparing his lines. Jason reached behind him and lifted a three-foot length of two-by-four.
   BAM!
   Lucky Jim never knew what hit him. Jason dropped the bloodied weapon overboard, grasped Jim from behind, tossed him over the side. The satisfying splash soaked Jason. He untied the vessel from the buoy and headed home, full-throttle. Damn the fog! Lucky Jim’s good fortune had reverted to him. At least the fortune itself had. He smiled.

    The perfect crime. No witnesses to contradict his story that Lucky Jim had slipped on the deck, bumped his head, fallen overboard, been swept away before his valiant son could save him. Poor Jim was lost.
   "Yes, Officer," Jason rehearsed, "Dad and I always fished in the fog. Lucky Jim thought the fishing was better when clouds met water, but everyone knew it was Jim’s luck that made the fishing good."

    As Jason eased, bow-first, into his docking berth, he saw two uniformed figures on the dock. He cut the engine and climbed from the boat, his eyes wide with alarm.
   "Thank God, you’re here, Officers! There’s been a tragic accident."
   "We know," the taller cop said.
   "My fath…" Jason pulled out the ear plugs. "What did you say?"
   They cuffed Jason’s hands behind his back and frisked him. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…"
   "Wait! Wait! What’s going on here?"
   "Don’t waste your breath, buddy." said the shorter cop, a woman with hard eyes.
   "But, my father’s just fallen overboard, I gotta get help…."
   "Yeah son, we know all about it……?"
    Jason’s jaw fell. His eyes glazed with disbelief. He never even noticed when the female cop cradled his head and shoved him into the back seat of the car.
    "But honestly he fell in, I didn’t push him," said Jason feebly.
   "Yeah," she said. "That might of made a convincing story last week, but I guess you didn’t notice the infra red camera they just set up on the buoy out there to catch the lobster thieves…. It can see through the mist and the night like it’s broad daylight.… The moment you reached those lobster grounds, they had you under surveillance. They thought you were the guys who’ve been taking their lobsters…."
   "But you’re a lucky guy," the male cop continued as he climbed behind the wheel. "Coast Guard just picked him up."
   "And alive!" his partner said as she took her place beside him.
   "Alive?" Jason croaked from the back seat.
   "Yup," said the driver. "Unconscious, he was, but, last I heard, his heart was still pumping. Good luck for you. You’ll be charged with attempted murder rather than murder. You’d better pray some of your luck rubs off on the old man and keeps him kickin’." 

Клуб ведет Абдуллина Галина — педагог с более, чем двадцатилетним стажем, учитель английского языка.

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