Дэвид
Сторей (род. 1933) - английский драматург, сценарист, писатель,
произведения которого неоднократно получали престижные литературные
премии; в прошлом - профессиональный игрок в регби.
(...)
He woke to find the room full of sunlight.
A dull pain throbbed between his eyes. His face was covered with sweat. When he turned on his side he saw that Kay was still asleep, her face sunk down in the pillows, almost hidden.
The
children, presumably, had been in to open the curtains. He could hear
them crashing about in their room at the front of the house. The alarm
hadn’t rung yet. It was almost seven o’clock.
When
he went down to the kitchen his eldest daughter, Susan, appeared on the stairs.
‘Are you making some tea?’ she said. ‘I hope to,’ he said.
Her bare feet pattered down behind him.
‘Did you come in and open the curtains?’ he said. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I heard you call.’ ‘Call?’
She stood by the stove, watching him light the kettle. Her head was little higher than the ring.
‘You must have been asleep,’ she said. ‘Yes,’ he said, and added, ‘What was I calling?’ ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I didn’t hear.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘next time you’d better listen.’ ‘Yes,’ she said and smiled.
He went through from the kitchen, at the back of the house, to the hall and
opened the front door.
her face sunk down in the pillows: sink - sank - sunk [siNk - sENk - sANk] - её лицо утонуло в подушках
presumably: [pri’zju:mэbli] - предположительно, возможно, вероятно, по-видимому
her bare feet pattered down behind him: patter [‘pEtэ] - её босые ступни
прошлёпали вниз (со ступенек) следом за ним ------------------------------------------------------------
