The Help / Прислуга. Книга для чтения на английском языке

”

Miss Skeeter kind a laugh, but I can tell she don’t think it’s funny. “What, you’d… kick me out? For disagreeing with you?”

Miss Hilly raise a eyebrow. “I will do whatever I have to do to protect our town. Your lead, Mama.”

I go in the kitchen and don’t come out again till I hear the door close after Miss Hilly’s behind.

When I know Miss Hilly gone, I put Mae Mobley in her playpen, drag the garbage bin out to the street cause the truck’s coming by today. At the top a the driveway, Miss Hilly and her crazy mama near bout back over me in they car, then yell out all friendly how sorry they is.

When I go in the kitchen, Miss Skeeter’s in there. She leaning against the counter, got a serious look on her face, even more serious than usual. “Hey, Miss Skeeter. I get you something?”

She glance out at the drive where Miss Leefolt’s talking to Miss Hilly through her car window. “No, I’m just… waiting.

I dry a tray with a towel. When I sneak a look over, she’s still got her worried eyes on that window. She don’t look like other ladies, being she so tall. She got real high cheekbones. Blue eyes that turn down, giving her a shy way about her. It’s quiet, except for the little radio on the counter, playing the gospel station. I wish she’d go on out a here.

“Is that Preacher Green’s sermon you’re playing on the radio?” she ask.

“Yes ma’am, it is.

Miss Skeeter kind a smile. “That reminds me so much of my maid growing up.”

“Oh I knew Constantine,” I say.

Miss Skeeter move her eyes from the window to me. “She raised me, did you know that?”

I nod, wishing I hadn’t said nothing[9 - I hadn’t said nothing – (разг.) = I hadn’t said anything 15]. I know too much about that situation.

“I’ve been trying to get an address for her family in Chicago,” she say, “but nobody can tell me anything.

“I don’t have it either, ma’am.”

Miss Skeeter move her eyes back to the window, on Miss Hilly’s Buick. She shake her head, just a little. “Aibileen, that talk in there… Hilly’s talk, I mean…”

I pick up a coffee cup, start drying it real good with my cloth.

“Do you ever wish you could… change things?” she asks.

And I can’t help myself. I look at her head-on. Cause that’s one a the stupidest questions I ever heard.