The Dating Game 9783468694158, 9783468441165, 3468441169, 3468694156

Warum findet Ruby keinen Mann? Sie versucht es über das Internet und - bingo! - im Handumdrehen regnet es Dating-Angebo

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Table of contents :
One......Page 4
Two......Page 17
Three......Page 29
Four......Page 40
Five......Page 46
Six......Page 54
Seven......Page 62
Eight......Page 73
Nine......Page 82
Ten......Page 90
Eleven......Page 96
Twelve......Page 100
Thirteen......Page 109
Fourteen......Page 114
Fifteen......Page 129
Sixteen......Page 138
Seventeen......Page 146
Solutions......Page 156
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Langenscheidt The Dating Game

by Carole Eilertson

Übungen: Carole Eilertson Muttersprachliche Durchsicht: Duane Eilertson Lektorat: Gabriele Dietz Layout: Ute Weber Coverfoto: Getty Images

For Nicole – Ad augusta per angusta

www.langenscheidt.de © 2009 by Langenscheidt KG, Berlin und München ISBN 978-3-468-69415-8

One Ruby’s diary Career women over 30 have a higher chance of being struck dead by lightning than of finding a soul mate. My flatmate Chloe mentioned this surprising fact to me. I’m single and my thirtieth birthday is just three short months away. Wild horses wouldn’t have dragged me to an online dating site twelve months ago. But last night Chloe put things in perspective. She told me I had no choice – a lot was at stake. I had been single too long and I was so busy with work that I had no time to go out in the evenings and meet people in their normal social habitats. Is virtual reality the only place for me to find my future soul mate, whoever he is and wherever he may be? “So why don’t you give Loveboat a try? It’s the coolest online dating agency in Europe.” Chloe, a petite woman in her early thirties with brunette shoulder-length hair now elegantly twisted up into a French knot gave me a nudge. It was Wednesday evening. We were sitting in the freshly painted living room of our bijou flat in leafy Maida Vale surrounded by an eclectic variety of furniture that Chloe had bought up cheaply over

to be struck dead by lightning [bi strk ded bai laitniŋ] vom Blitz erschlagen werden soul mate [səυl meit] Seelenverwandter to be at stake [bi ət steik] auf dem Spiel stehen social habitat [səυʃl h bit t] sozialer Lebensraum petite [pətit] zierlich twisted up [twistid p] hochgesteckt nudge [nd ] Stups bijou flat [bi u fl t] kleine elegante Wohnung leafy [lifi] grün eclectic [iklektik] bunt zusammengewürfelt

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the years at flea markets in and around London. She loved nothing more than acquiring dirt-cheap items that had been unceremoniously abandoned by their unimaginative owners. Dilapidated wooden tables, desks and chairs were among her favourites. With boundless energy, she then went on to strip them down, repaint and ‘distress’ them. This gave them the fashionable look experts call ‘shabby chic’. The two of us were perched atop two of her recent D.I.Y. products – a pair of matching Victorian-style chairs that she had first covered with layers of progressively greener paints and then sanded down, so that the soft sour cream base coat shimmered through. “So what do you think, Ruby? Why don’t I take a photo of you and we can sign you up for Loveboat? We can have your picture uploaded to your profile in a jiffy.” No sooner said than done! She whipped her mobile phone out of her second-hand, banana-coloured Gucci handbag (in matters of fashion as well as furniture, Chloe didn’t believe in spending a lot of money unnecessarily) and pointed the device threateningly towards me. I tried to protest, but it was too late. Minutes later, thanks to wireless transmission, an image of my face graced the computer screen. I must admit I didn’t look too bad. I have a fairly oval face and long curly reddish-brown hair and nut

dirt-cheap [d ttʃip] spottbillig dilapidated [dil pideitid] ramponiert boundless [baυndləs] grenzenlos to strip sth. down [strip / daυn] etw. abbeizen to distress sth. [distres] etw. malträtieren to perch [p tʃ] hocken D.I.Y. (= Do It Yourself) products [diaiwai] selbst gebaute Sachen base coat [beis kəυt] Grundanstrich in a jiffy [in ə d ifi] im Handumdrehen device [divais] Gerät to grace sth. [reis] etw. zieren

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brown eyes. Okay, my lips were pouted a tad too sceptically, but overall the effect was quite pleasing. “You look gorgeous. I love those lobster-red leggings of yours. Can I borrow them some time?” “Sure, feel free!” Chloe put down her mobile back in her bag, looked at me and sighed. “I, for one, would fall in love with you at the drop of a hat. Shame you’re straight!” I grinned and put my hand under my chin feigning coyness. “Ooh, Chloe, you’re tempting me. But okay, so I’m not gay! Well, nobody’s perfect!” We both started to giggle and when I had recovered, I looked at my photo on the screen again. “I like the photo, Chloe, but I’m not sure I want to post it online. What if one of my clients saw it? It would be embarrassing.” I am a solicitor and I deal with sober-minded business clients in many different branches. The last thing I wanted was for one of these ultra-conservative ‘suits’ to go wading through intimate details of my private life. Chloe nodded seriously. “Point taken. In my line of business that kind of thing is not ... uhm ... exactly paramount, but with you things are a bit different.” Chloe was a television host and producer. In the media nobody cared about privacy, or so it seemed to me.

to pout [paυt] einen Schmollmund machen tad [t d] eine Spur straight [streit] heterosexuell to feign sth. [fein] etw. vortäuschen coyness [kɔinəs] Schüchternheit to tempt sb. [temt] in Versuchung führen to giggle [il] kichern solicitor [səlisitə] Anwältin to wade through sth. [weid θru] sich durch etw. durchwühlen paramount [p rəmaυnt] an erster Stelle television host [telivi n həυst] Fernsehmoderatorin

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“All right, but even without putting my picture online, I’ve still got a funny feeling about computer dating.” Chloe, who was already calling up the registration form, sniggered. “Ruby, you must be the only single woman below thirty in London who has never met anyone online in her life, and of course I blame your mother.” I laughed dryly. “You’re right. No wonder I’m wary. Charlie is really an extreme example of Internet dating gone crazy!” Exercise 1: Underline the appropriate words or phrases. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Ruby is a successful (career woman/Internet dater). Her flatmate (wants to try/wants her to try) Internet dating. She lives in a (large/small) flat in London. Chloe enjoys distressing (Ruby/furniture). Ruby is wary of (Internet dating/gay women). For Ruby (being photographed/privacy) is paramount.

The registration form appeared and Chloe handed me the computer mouse. “There you go, it’s all yours! And speaking as a veteran online dater myself, I must admit that I feel like a complete novice when your mother tells her tales.” My 60-year-old mother Charlie, a doyen of cyber-dating, has gone through four marriages and four divorces but she remains an eternal optimist. Chloe, no beginner herself, was connected up with an amazing network of friends and potential lovers via a gay dating site. “My mother doesn’t seem to need a permanent relationship. She changes boyfriends like other women change their hair to snigger [sniə] kichern wary [weəri] argwöhnisch novice [nɒvis] Neuling doyen [dɔiən] Meisterin

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colour. Sometimes I think Internet dating was invented just for her. I can understand that she wants a bit of excitement in her life but I ...” I hesitated. As usual Chloe could read my thoughts. “You still think you can find your soul mate, don’t you?” I fidgeted with the computer mouse. “Suppose so. Don’t you believe there’s such a thing, Chloe?” Chloe’s eyes darkened for a moment. “I did once, but ...” I winced. When I had first moved in with Chloe 12 months ago, her beloved girlfriend Sybil had just dumped her. That was at about the same time Rick had left me too. Misery loves company and we had both tried our best to console each other. Since then, I have been very reluctant to date. But Chloe being Chloe didn’t mope around for long. Within a week of being dumped, she was surfing the Internet, visiting every gay dating website she could find. Perhaps Internet dating really was the way to go, but something inside me rebelled against using the same methods to choose a package holiday as to select a future lover. I shivered, even though the temperature in the room was pleasant; after all it was the end of a hot day in late summer. London doesn’t really deserve its reputation as the fog capital of Europe. “Chloe, online dating feels unreal to me. It’s unnatural. It feels ... It feels so artificial. See!” I pointed to the screen. We feasted our eyes upon a nostalgic image of a Mississippi

to fidget with sth. [fid it wið] mit etw. herumspielen to wince [wins] zusammenzucken to dump sb. [dmp] mit jdm. Schluss machen to console sb. [kənsəυl] jdn. trösten to mope around [məυp əraυnd] mit einer Jammermiene herumlaufen to feast one’s eyes upon sth. [fist wnz aiz əpɒn] sich an etw. weiden

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steamship sailing into the sunset with the logo Loveboat pasted in below it in spidery fonts. “Loveboat! For goodness sake, doesn’t that name make you think of a Doris Day movie from the forties?” Chloe and I were cineasts. We attended a film club every Tuesday and were into 20th century cinema and art-house movies. “Anyway – what’s wrong with meeting men the normal way?” Chloe screwed up her sea-green eyes and looked at me despairingly. She opened her handbag again, slid out a packet of cigarettes and offered me one. “The same thing that’s wrong with meeting gay women the normal way!” I refused the cigarette. “No thanks,” I said smugly. Chloe lit up, and I looked on enviously. I had managed to give up smoking ‘for good’ just six weeks ago! Chloe puffed on her cigarette artistically, sending up wisps of delicate smoke around her face. It formed a circle which hovered for a moment, halo-like, above her head. Somehow she always managed to look angelic even when indulging in her favourite vice. I thought about my mother, a chain-smoker too, and her incredible turnover of ‘boyfriends’. Charlie was always fussing about the details of clothes and make-up and asking me questions like: “Does my bottom look big in these slacks? Do you think this shade of maroon eye-shadow

pasted in [peistid in] eingeklebt to screw up one’s eyes [skru p wnz aiz] die Augen zusammenkneifen to slide out sth. [slaid aυt] etw. herausziehen smugly [smli] selbstgefällig wisp [wisp] Rauchwölkchen halo-like [heiləυlaik] wie ein Heiligenschein to fuss about sth. [fs əbaυt] viel Aufhebens um etw. machen slacks [sl ks] Hose peistid

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makes me look younger?” Did I really want to put myself through an ordeal like that – always checking the mirror and checking out the latest fashions? I glanced at my clothes. I was dressed in blue jeans and a baggy white T-shirt. During working hours I always had to ‘dress up’ in smart business suits. But in my spare time I was only too happy to hang up my corporate armour and slip into something casual and comfortable. Lost in thought, I was barely listening to Chloe who, goaded by the nicotine, had launched enthusiastically into a plea for Internet dating. “Ruby! Wake up! You are living in the 21st century in case nobody has bothered telling you. This is not The Flintstones! These days everybody meets everyone online. Today online dating is the normal way! Let’s be realistic. Do you honestly believe you can meet the woman – sorry, man of your dreams just by chance? What is the probability of that happening, eh? Think about it. Do you seriously believe you will meet Prince Charming at a nightclub? Wake up and smell the coffee, Ruby. It simply isn’t going to happen!” She took another vigorous puff on the cigarette and looked at me challengingly before continuing her plea. “I think you look at life too romantically.” She hesitated for a moment, then her voice took on a bitter tone. “Who are we kidding, Ruby? How can anybody expect to find an ideal partner these days? I am happy to settle for a good night out, a good laugh and good sex! Soul mate indeed! And I thought you solicitors were a hard-nosed bunch!” ordeal [ɔdil] Martyrium suit [sut] Kostüm corporate armour [kɔpərət ɑmə] steife Businesskleidung goaded [əυdid] aufgekratzt plea [pli] Plädoyer hard-nosed [hɑdnəυzd] nüchtern

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I touched Chloe’s arm. “Just because we were both wrong once, doesn’t mean we’ll never find our soul mates, Chloe.” For a moment I thought Chloe was going to burst into tears, but then she bit her lip and forced a grin onto her face. “Ruby, you truly are the last of the romantics. God – you even cry over George Clooney films!” I ignored the cheap slight on my profession and the pointed reference to my favourite American film star. “Why not? There are millions of men in London. Why isn’t it possible to meet people the old-fashioned way? People have been doing it that way for centuries, millennia even!” I paused, trying to create a moment of drama before delivering the punch line. “And the human race didn’t become extinct just because people didn’t happen to have access to broadband!” Chloe remained unimpressed. She stubbed out her cigarette before she had smoked it all the way down. This is what she meant when she told her friends she had already cut her smoking down by half! “Yeah, but we don’t live in the Stone Age any more, do we, Ruby? There aren’t many caves around any more where you can flirt with a hunk and wow him with your recipe for mammoth roast.” Chloe has a tendency to go on sometimes. Probably because she talks for a living. But I knew her flippant tone disguised a deep wound. “... and you don’t have to form an eternal bond with someone, today, just because he is your next door neighbour’s cousin. Haven’t you heard slight [slait] Stichelei punch line [pntʃ lain] Pointe to become extinct [bikm ikstiŋkt] aussterben to stub out a cigarette [stb aυt ə siəret] eine Zigarette ausdrücken hunk [hŋk] Adonis to wow sb. [waυ] jdn. beeindrucken flippant [flipnt] flapsig

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of social networking? Why aren’t you on FaceBook or MySpace or something? You know, that’s how everybody makes friends these days.” “Chloe, you should have become a barrister like Tim. I thought he could make a good argument in court but you beat him hands down! Remember, though – if you’ve got fewer than 500 so-called friends on a social networking site, you are automatically deemed a social failure!” Chloe threw up her hands in exasperation. “What can I say to persuade you to just give it a try, Ruby?” “I am willing to give it a try, Chloe, but I am still sceptical. Isn’t online dating really for superficial people addicted to virtual reality who prefer to spend all their life trying to get a tan from the light of their computer screen and are too scared to go out into the real world and talk to real people?” “Ha! Would you say that your mother never gets out into the real world? She is a prime example of a social butterfly and she does Internet dating. It sounds more like you are profiling yourself – except you get your tan from the television screen instead!” I was beginning to get irritated as I always did when I thought of my mother and her excessive lifestyle. “I have a hard job, Chloe, and watching T.V. is just a way for me ... well, it’s how I relax.” Chloe grinned. “And it’s a lot more relaxing than talking to real people in the real world.” She touched my arm and stroked it affectionately. “Not all the men out there are bastards like Rick, you know. It’s time you got over him.” barrister [b ristə] Rechtsanwältin to be deemed sth. [bi dimd] für etw. gehalten werden exasperation [iz spəreiʃn] Verzweiflung prime example [praim izɑmpl] Musterbeispiel

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I thought about Rick. Maybe the real reason I had been avoiding Internet dating for the last twelve months was pure fear. What if I fell for another Rick? A lifetime of celibacy would be preferable to that option. “What can I say, Chloe? After all this time the thought of Rick still makes me feel nauseous. What did I see in that guy? How could I have convinced myself that he was my guy? Why hadn’t I noticed that he had been cheating on me for months!? And with my best friend at that – or former best friend I should say. May I burn in hell if I ever speak to Fran again!” Chloe fumbled in her handbag for another cigarette. “Same goes for me if I ever talk to Sybil again. But they say that time heals all wounds, and Internet dating does too!” she said determinedly, puffing on her second cigarette. “Loveboat is a fantastic site. You can filter the candidates according to income, education, location ...” I tried to get into the spirit of things. “Shoe size? Underwear? Karma?” Chloe raised her eyebrows. “That idea of filtering men for underwear isn’t half bad. Maybe I’ll send it in as a suggestion and get a free book voucher ... but, come on, Ruby, you aren’t taking this seriously. You can’t afford to be so cynical.” She looked at me slyly, snatching up a small make-up mirror from her handbag. “You aren’t exactly a spring chicken any more. Here – look at yourself in the mirror.” Chloe held the mirror in front of my face. I studied my reflection – I had a few more wrinkles than I celibacy [seləbəsi] Zölibat nauseous [nɔsiəs] speiübel to cheat on sb. [tʃit ɒn] jdn. betrügen at that [ət θ t] noch dazu book voucher [bυk vaυtʃə] Büchergutschein slyly [slaili] verschlagen to snatch up sth. [sn tʃ p] etw. herausholen wrinkle [riŋkl] Falte

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remembered. “It’s not fair Chloe. This mirror magnifies my laughter lines.” Chloe chuckled and stuffed the mirror back into her handbag, closing the clasp with a loud snap. “Laughter lines? Is that what you call them? Sounds better than crow’s feet anyway.” It was my turn to be indignant. “I don’t have any crow’s feet ... yet. Where did you get that mirror from anyway? My skin is fine. Besides, not even a ten-year old would look good at that magnification!” I had always been proud of my good complexion and flawless skin. My hair was another thing – the older I got, the drier and more flyaway it became. The amount of time I had to spend in the bathroom rubbing in serum, blowdrying it carefully and spraying all manner of chemicals into it afterwards, was increasing exponentially. Body maintenance seemed to be taking up years of my life. I was doing something wrong somewhere. But my skin – with its classic English strawberries-and-cream complexion – was one of my better points. At least when I didn’t use mirrors that magnified more powerfully than the Hubble space telescope. “It’s from a special optical manufacturer in Germany. My father sent it me.” Exercise 2: Fill in the gaps with the words given below. (way, life, television, rosebuds, men, German)

Chloe’s father was 1. ______________ and Chloe was bilingual. “You look a bit like Andie McDowell, you clasp [klɑsp] Schließe flyaway [flaiəwei] schwer zu bändigen body maintenance [bɒdi meintənəns] Körperpflege

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know ... You know the 2. ______________ she looked in Ground Hog Day with Bill Murray.” As a 3. ______________ producer, Chloe is a walking encyclopaedia of trivia on all things cinematic. “But you get my point, don’t you Ruby? ‘Gather ye 4.

______________ while ye may. Old time, he is a flyin’.’

You have to get out there and meet a few 5. ______________. The only male in your 6. ______________ at the moment is your colleague Tim. And from what you’ve been saying, he’s a bit of an ogre.” I shifted around uncomfortably in my chair. “Well, not exactly an ogre. He’s just so unapproachable and arrogant.” “Unapproachable? Is this a case of the pot calling the kettle black, I wonder? Ruby, you might not be arrogant, but you have certainly become unapproachable since ...” She paused. I knew what she had been going to say. Since Rick left you ... “When was the last time you went out to a nightclub?” I pursed my lips as if lost in thought. “It wasn’t that long ago. Three months, I think.” “But that was only because of Carrie’s hen party. You couldn’t very well have said no.” The pot calling the kettle black. [ðə pɒt kɑliŋ ðə ketl bl k] Wer im Glashaus sitzt, soll nicht mit Steinen werfen. hen party [hen pɑti] Junggesellinnenabschied

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What Chloe said was true. Carrie was an old university friend of mine who was getting married and had decided to move to France with her husband. Even though I didn’t feel like going to the hen party, there was no way I could have avoided it. I hadn’t enjoyed myself much, though. At least not until ... “Well, don’t just sit there. Get yourself dolled up and go out!” “Chloe, I just don’t have the time. You know, with the Keating case and everything ...” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Right, the Keating case!” Harry Keating was one of my clients. I had first met him a few weeks ago before he had needed a solicitor, and what I couldn’t tell anyone – not even Chloe – was that I was beginning to develop feelings for him that were not appropriate in a client-solicitor relationship. I suppose this confusion over my feelings was an additional reason why I was ambivalent about trying out Loveboat. “Ruby, just fill in this registration form, will you?” My attention returned to the pink document glowing on the computer screen. “Forget about your career and your clients for a moment. This is about you.” I sighed. If Chloe only knew the way I was beginning to feel about Harry ... “Okay – but not now. I really am too tired.” “Tomorrow then. Deal or no deal?” I finally gave in. “Deal! Tomorrow it will be.”

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Two To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying. (Robert Herrick) Early next morning – Thursday – I arrived breathlessly at Tim Evan’s chambers. They were located in a narrow, redbrick Victorian town house in Drake Street, not far away from the Thames. I could just about make out a tall chimney, part of the familiar silhouette of the Tate Modern on the south bank of the river. A former power station, the building now housing Britain’s most eclectic collection of contemporary art had been designed by the distinguished architect Sir Giles Gilbert. Or so Tim had told me when he had first shown me his headquarters. I was running fifteen minutes late because of a bomb alert in Piccadilly Circus. Traffic and terrorism were both conspiring to bring business in the capital to a halt. I pressed the buzzer next to the brightly painted purple door but nobody let me in. I used my key, unlocked the door and started to ascend the spiral staircase that connected the ground floor to the converted loft where Tim had his rooms. The townhouse actually belonged to his aunt, Patricia Wilkes, a formidable woman in her mid-sixties who lived directly below the office in a snug penthouse suite. buzzer [bzə] Summer to ascend [əsend] hochsteigen converted [kənv tid] umgebaut snug [sn] gemütlich

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Aunt Patsy, as Tim called her, was a bossy woman who had the habit of poking her nose into everything and buttonholing anybody who came to the office. Luckily she wasn’t anywhere in sight, and so, puffing slightly from the exertion, I reached the top floor and slipped, unmolested, into the front office. I noted with satisfaction that Tim’s airhead receptionist whom I had secretly dubbed ‘Britney’ hadn’t arrived yet either. I flitted past a steel-and-glass desk and pushed open the wood-panelled door that led to the inner sanctuary. Tim, a slim, wiry man in his early thirties with a crop of ginger hair and a taste in ties that might be termed ‘experimental’, was already deeply immersed in the Keating file. As usual Tim was wearing a dark-grey pin-striped suit complemented, today, by a cherry-and-mustard striped tie. A style guru he was not! To make matters worse, today he was wearing an overpowering aftershave which reminded me of the kind my father used to wear before my mother broke up with him. In the background I could hear the resonant voice of Bryn Terfel singing Guglielmo from Mozart’s Così Fan Tutte in soft Italian with the power of a Welsh choir. At first Tim ignored me, so I cleared my throat noisily. Tim finally tore himself away from the file and lowered the volume of the music. “Hi Ruby, it’s nice to see you. Just in time to sign the documents before Mr Keating arrives.”

to buttonhole sb. [btnhəυl] jdn. in ein Gespräch verwickeln to puff [pf] schnaufen exertion [iz ʃn] Anstrengung unmolested [nməυlestid] unbehelligt airhead [eəhed] hohl to dub sb. [db] jdn. taufen to flit [flit] huschen inner sanctuary [inə s ŋktʃυəri] Allerheiligstes crop [krɒp] Kurzhaarschnitt

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I immediately took “Just in time” to be an ironic comment on my lack of punctuality. Once I had turned up quarter of an hour late for an appointment with him and had forgotten to apologize. He told me that he hated it when people weren’t on time. He always made a habit of being fifteen minutes early to appointments when he could. I had responded flippantly that I didn’t think fifteen minutes here or there were much of an issue. He had then glared at me and said, “Ruby, fifteen minutes for a barrister can sometimes literally be a matter of life and death!” Exercise 3: Are the following statements true or false? Mark the correct sentences. 1. … 2. … 3. … 4. … 5. … 6. …

Ruby has contacted a soul mate on the Internet. Her flatmate Chloe has just fallen in love with a woman called Sybil. Ruby’s old boyfriend Rick dumped her a while ago. Tim’s office is located near the Thames. Tim could be dubbed a style guru. Ruby thinks Tim is a bad barrister.

“I can’t help it if the buses were delayed, Tim,” I said defensively. “Another terrorist threat or something, I think.” Tim looked confused for a moment. “No, Ruby, I didn’t mean that. I meant ...” He stopped speaking and fixed his eyes on a point somewhere behind me, just behind my left shoulder. This was another thing that annoyed me about Tim. He would rarely look me straight in the eye! “Uhm ... I have asked Mr Keating to drop by here to sign them too. He’s due any minute.” 18

“Fine.” I flung my handbag down on to a Queen-Anne chair and slipped out of my trench coat. Tim watched as I hung up my coat on a wooden hangar on a black metal coat rack located just behind the door and next to one of his most prized possessions – a framed and signed poster of Batman and Robin, an original print from the sixties, but when I caught his eye he looked away abruptly and studied the clown fish I’d nicknamed Nemo who was swimming around merrily behind him in a ceilingto-floor aquarium. Tim sighed and began leafing through the file on his desk. He handed me a wad of papers which I grabbed and started to skim-read. The documents concerned our client Harry Keating. Harry works – or rather worked, now he is temporarily suspended – for an investment bank in the City of London. Twelve months ago his employers found ‘evidence’ that he had been embezzling funds from an account – only he hadn’t. He had been framed. The evidence against him was dodgy and the real culprit – Harry’s ex-boss Mycroft Worthing – had set our client up to be the fall guy. So what happens? Harry’s boss escapes to Cuba or somewhere, and poor Harry lands up with his passport confiscated and fighting for his reputation. I finished reading, quickly scrawled my signature at the bottom of the last page and placed the sheaf of papers on

to fling sth. down [fliŋ / daυn] etw. hinpfeffern wad [wɒd] Packen to skim-read sth. [skimrid] etw. kurz überfliegen to embezzle [imbezl] veruntreuen account [əkaυnt] Konto to frame sb. [freim] jdn. verleumden dodgy [dɒd i] zweifelhaft culprit [klprit] Täter fall guy [fɔl ai] Prügelknabe sheaf of papers [ʃif əv peipəz] Papierstapel

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Tim’s desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tim was grimacing. “What’s up, Tim?” Tim made an attempt to smile but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “I was hoping we could get more of Harry’s colleagues to testify that Mycroft had been involved in shady dealings – or at least had been acting suspiciously until his disappearance, but nobody apart from Janet Somerfield seems to have noticed anything. Or if they did, they aren’t saying.” Tim was shaking his head morosely. “Apart from Mrs Somerfield’s statement, I’m afraid we have no evidence that Mr Keating’s boss was behaving oddly. And certainly no evidence that he was planning to fly to Cuba.” I frowned. “But surely this is still enough for our case.” Tim nodded reluctantly. “Oh yes, it’s enough all right. But I’d still like to have some more corroborating evidence. Harry ... Mr Keating deserves the best defence from us that he can get.” “Well, Harry told me that he knows he has the best barrister in London on his side.” I was surprised to see Tim’s face turn a deep red. “You don’t need to flatter me, Ruby,” he said sharply and turned away from me abruptly. “It’s not flattery, Tim. Just passing on a compliment.” Tim opened his mouth as if to give a sharp retort, but closed it again instantly. I had seen him perform in court under pressure from the prosecution, and I had never once seen suspiciously [səspiʃəsli] verdächtig morosely [mərəυsli] verdrossen to frown [fraυn] die Stirn runzeln to corroborate [kərɒbəreit] erhärten to flatter sb. [fl tə] jdm. schmeicheln retort [ritɔt] Antwort

20

him lose his cool. But when you talked to him in person he often appeared – well, frankly, awkward. Tim leant back in his chair, coughed and rubbed his forehead. “Ruby, we need to come up with a new angle on the case.” I welcomed the chance to change the subject. “Tim, do you think we could start poking around in Mycroft Worthing’s private life? Maybe he had been overextending his credit cards or something ...” “I’ve already hired a private detective to investigate the case. And he’s found ....” Tim hesitated, obviously unwilling to continue. “What?” “Well, it’s probably nothing ...” Exercise 4: Which characters made the following remarks? Fill in the right names. 1.

We need to come up with a new angle on the case. _____________________________________________

2.

I’m not flattering you. _____________________________________________

3.

Wake up and smell the coffee. _____________________________________________

4.

Fifteen minutes in business can literally be a matter of life and death! _____________________________________________

to overextend sth. [əυvərikstend] etw. überziehen

21

5.

You don’t have to form an eternal bond with someone. _____________________________________________

6.

Do you believe there’s such a thing as a soul mate? _____________________________________________

Tim waved his hand dismissively but his eyes darkened. He picked up a paperweight from his desk that had been placed upon a thick book with a bright red cover. I looked at Tim rather distractedly. My mind was still on Harry and his predicament. Tim was fidgeting with the paperweight. “Uhm ... Ruby, I’ve been thinking ... uhm ... Ruby, I wanted to ask you something about Harry ...” Rap-rap!! Someone was knocking at the door. A second later Harry Keating pushed the door open and, with a huge smile on his face, he sauntered into the room. There ... it was happening again! My knees were going weak. “Morning all. I let myself in. Shirley ... ehm ... the receptionist isn’t there yet. How’s my brilliant defence team doing this bright and cheerful morning?” Tim replaced the paperweight carefully on the red book, pushed back his chair, stood up and shook hands stiffly with Harry. “Good morning, Mr Keating. Mrs Mank and I were just going over your case ...” Harry turned his head and looked at me penetratingly.

dismissively [dismisivli] geringschätzig to place [pleis] platzieren predicament [pridikəmənt] Notlage to saunter [sɔntə] schlendern

22

He was a well-built, thirty-something who usually dressed casually. Today he was wearing faded jeans and a pastel blue shirt. Unlike Tim, Harry seemed to have an instinctive feel for style and colour. “And how are you, Ruby? You look stunning today. Whenever I see you, I thank my lucky stars that I plucked up enough courage to ask you for your phone number that night.” “I’m glad you did, too, Harry. Otherwise you might not have got Tim.” Harry looked at Tim admiringly. “I know! Tim’s the absolute best.” Tim averted his eyes and seemed to be studying the aquarium even more intensely than before, watching Nemo weave his way among the wavy aquatic plants that swayed back and forth in the tank. But then he turned round and looked Harry in the eye. “Mr Keating, let’s get down to business, shall we? I’d appreciate it if you could just read through this document and, provided that you agree with the terms, just sign on the dotted line please.” Tim handed Harry the sheaf of documents and re-immersed himself in the file he had been studying when I arrived. I studied Harry. He was reading through the documents Tim had handed him. For the umpteenth time I wondered why I found him so attractive. Although not conventionally handsome, he made the most of what he had. The blue of his shirt, for instance, nicely complemented the azure of his stunning [stniŋ] überwältigend to pluck up courage [plk p krid ] Mut fassen wavy [weivi] gewellt to sway back and forth [swei b k ən fɔθ] hin und her schwanken term [t m] Bedingung for the umpteenth time [fə ði mptinθ taim] zum x-ten Mal

23

eyes. I thought of the first time I had met him, only a few months previously ... It had been at Carrie’s hen party in Club Zero, a nightclub close to Tim’s office. I had gone along, albeit rather unwillingly, seeing no graceful way of getting myself out of the invitation. I just didn’t enjoy listening to loud music any more, and I couldn’t bear the presence of so many perspiring bodies milling around. I had sat in the corner most of the evening clutching a cocktail and making conversation with Carrie’s older sister, Meg, who, because she had broken a leg, was condemned to looking on, as Carrie and her mates gyrated madly on the dance floor. I had kidded myself into thinking that the reason I didn’t get up and dance was because I was sensitive to Meg’s predicament. But was that the real reason? I doubted it. Coincidentally, that evening Harry and a bunch of his friends were holding court at the bar. I had noticed Harry as soon as I arrived, but not because of his looks. Exercise 5: Put the following adjectives into the gaps in the text. When appropriate, change them into adverbs. (clever, beautiful, regular, certain, surprising, constant)

He stood out, as he seemed to be 1. __________________ surrounded by 2. __________________ women who 3.

__________________ burst into gales of laughter.

albeit [ɔlbiit] wenn auch to perspire [pəspaiə] schwitzen to mill around [mil əraυnd] umherlaufen to clutch sth. [kltʃ] etw. umklammern to gyrate [d aireit] wirbeln

24

Meg said she had seen one of the men performing 4.

__________________ party tricks or something like

that. At some point Harry, 5. __________________, had approached me and introduced himself. I was just not in the mood to be hit upon, and 6. __________________ not by a short, rather pasty-faced man. I had meant to rebuff him, to send him packing with an incredibly cutting put-down line, but after five minutes of small talk he had very shyly asked me for my telephone number. I am not in the habit of giving my phone number to complete strangers, but Harry had seemed so vulnerable, so disarming. He intrigued me. So I gave him my business card. He glanced at it and said, “So you’re a solicitor? You’re not just beautiful, but you’ve got brains to match!” Then he rejoined his friends at the bar, who, inexplicably, greeted his return with loud bellows of mirth. Harry hadn’t tried to flirt with me in the slimy way Rick had done when we had first met. He had just treated me like an equal and not like some sex object ... and I must admit that I did feel a tinge of disappointment when he had simply returned to his group of buddies. After that incident, the evening had dragged on until I finally offered to leave early and share a taxi with Meg. A few days later, out of the blue, to rebuff sb. [ribf] jdn. abblitzen lassen to send sb. packing [send / p kiŋ] jdn. zum Teufel jagen cutting [ktiŋ] scharf put-down line [pυtdaυn lain] Abfuhr to intrigue sb. [intri] jdn. neugierig machen bellows of mirth [beləυz əv m θ] Freudengeheul tinge [tind ] Anflug

25

one evening at 11 p.m. I received a phone call from Harry. He was calling from a police station. “Ruby, it’s Harry. Remember me? I need your help. Come quickly. I’ve just been taken into custody by the police.” My mind had drifted off and I hadn’t been following what was going on in the office. Tim was no longer buried in the file and Harry had obviously signed the documents and was already taking his leave. “Ok, I’m off now, Ruby. Tim was just telling me how difficult it is to find out anything more. Mycroft really has covered up his tracks well. Thank God for Janey!” Tim nodded. “Indeed. I will be taking her statement down this afternoon. It will just be a formality. I think the three of us should meet up tomorrow morning for a strategy session.” Harry was almost out of the door. “Let’s go for it. You know what? When this is all over, we’re going to celebrate. I’m going to Crete, my favourite place in the whole world, and either one or both of you are welcome to join me!” Harry closed the door behind him, but not before winking at me. I started to blush again, much to my embarrassment. I turned to Tim and I noticed that his cheeks were red too. I coughed. “Tim, I have to be off soon. I’m seeing another client at 11 o’clock. Are we all done for this morning, then?” Tim cleared his throat and looked down at his desk. He picked up the paperweight again. I glanced at the title of the red book, trying to read upside down. The initials P.U.A. custody [kstədi] Gewahrsam to wink at sb. [wiŋk ət] jdm. zuzwinkern to blush [blʃ] erröten

26

were emblazoned on the cover in big gold letters. Below that there was a subtitle in much smaller print, almost impossible to read from where I was standing. I could just make out the first three words: The Art of ... The intercom system came to life. Tim’s receptionist had obviously finally turned up. She was announcing the arrival of his next client. Tim looked up at me. “Okay, Ruby. Take care then. See you tomorrow.” Hurriedly I slipped into my trench coat and grabbed my handbag. “See you later, Tim. Good luck with Mrs Somerfield.” As I left, Tim was still fidgeting with the paperweight, and Bryn Terfel was launching into a rendition of Schubert’s Winterreise. The only journey I could think of, though, was a trip to Crete ... with Harry.

to be emblazoned on sth. [bi imbleiznd ɒn] auf etw. prangen rendition [rendiʃn] Übertragung

27

Three Ruby’s Diary Why should I try to ensnare a someone on the World Wide Web? Maybe Harry is The One? Maybe after Tim has convinced the jury of his innocence ... Maybe, maybe, maybe ... “What do I have to do then?” It was eight o’clock on Thursday evening and I stared moodily at the Mississippi steamboat. It was only because I had given my word to Chloe last night that I was sitting in front of the computer again, logged onto the Loveboat dating site. The more I thought about Harry, the more of a waste of time I thought this Internet dating lark was. But I wasn’t going to tell Chloe about Harry just yet. “See here – just fill in the details and then take a short personality test.” Chloe, clad in an exquisite scarlet silk blouse and matching velvet skirt, was checking her make-up in her super-strength cosmetic mirror. She was going out later but had agreed to sit with me for a while and babysit me through the first Loveboat hurdles. She snapped her mirror shut and I dutifully started to fill in the form. Exercise 6: Fill in the missing words to complete Ruby’s profile. (First Name, Profession, Hobbies, Self-description, Surname, Year of Birth) 1.

_______________: Mank

to ensnare sb. [insneə] jdn. umgarnen lark [lɑk] Sache hurdle [h dl] Hürde

28

2.

_______________: Ruby

3.

_______________: 1980

4.

_______________: Solicitor

5.

_______________: reading, cycling, swimming, travelling, classical music, cinema

6.

_______________: optimistic, sociable, hard-working, romantic, creative

I finished filling in my biodata and a new window appeared on the screen. “It says click here for the personality test, Chloe. Do I really have to do that? Or can I just skip it? I mean – these personality tests are a bit like reading the runes, aren’t they? They can mean everything and nothing. All things to all people.” “Of course you have to do it. Otherwise you won’t be able to log on and see the juicy profiles of all those sex-crazed guys who are just dying to wine and dine you.” I remained sceptical. “But why do I have to answer so many questions?” Chloe pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Remember your suggestion about underwear and shoe size?” I was puzzled. “What do you mean?” “Well, I think they put in so many questions as a sort of a filter. You have to spend forty-five minutes answering all the questions and that just goes to prove that you are seriously interested in dating. Not so much the Oracle at Delphi as the original marathon run.” to skip sth. [skip] etw. überspringen sex-crazed [sekskreizd] sexgeil

29

I spluttered. “Forty-five minutes. You can’t be serious! I have to spend forty-five minutes of my precious life answering idiotic questions like ...” I clicked on the first question and it flashed in front of me in a pink frame. 1. The hardest part of dating is knowing: … What to say. … What to eat. … What to drink. … What make-up to put on. … What he wants. … What you want. “How many of these questions are there?” “Well, on the gay dating site I’m registered on there were about 60.” “Please tell me you’re joking. Do you realize that my favourite T.V. show is on this evening?” This was going too far. Harry appeared increasingly attractive as an option. I got up from my chair and walked sulkily across the living room and sat down on our reupholstered sofa complete with an antique-linen antimacassar and Laura Ashley cushions. Chloe opened her mouth. “I don’t care what you’re going to say, Chloe!” I said stubbornly. “I’m just not in the mood to spend half my free evening spilling out my soul to a ... to a Mississippi steamboat.” to splutter [spltə] prusten sulkily [slkili] schmollend reupholstered [riphəυlstəd] neu bezogen antimacassar [ ntimək sə] Schonbezug

30

Chloe stared at me thoughtfully for a minute then smiled. “What’s with you, Ruby? Have you already set your sights on somebody? Is that why you can’t be bothered?” I blushed. “That’s ridiculous, Chloe.” Chloe peered at me sceptically but let the moment pass. “Okay, Ruby. I’ve got a date this evening, so let’s hurry! No more tantrums, please! We have a deal, remember!?” With Chloe and me it was a bit like the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object. It was a toss-up which one of us would give in first. I glowered at her furiously. She returned my stare calmly. Oh well, I suppose a deal is a deal. I scowled and reluctantly heaved myself up off the sofa plonking myself down once more in front of the nautical logo. “Okay – what’s the best way to answer these questions then? Do I really have to be honest or can I just choose the answers at random and save time.” “You’re joking of course!” I sighed. “Okay, I guess there is no way back now.” I pointed to the first question. Exercise 7: Complete the following statements. Use either the ing-form (e. g. dating) or the infinitive-form (e. g. date) of the verb. 1.

__________________ (to date) a lot of men is Ruby’s mother’s hobby.

tantrum [t ntrəm] Wutanfall to be a toss-up [bi ə tɒsp] völlig offen sein to glower at sb. [ləυwər ət] jdn. anstarren to scowl [skaυl] finster dreinblicken to heave oneself up [hiv wnself p] sich hochhieven to plonk onself down [plɒŋk wnself daυn] sich fallen lassen at random [ət r ndəm] aufs Geratewohl

31

2.

Ruby is hoping to __________________ (to meet) her soul mate.

3.

Can the art of _______________ (to flirt) be learnt?

4.

Chloe is looking forward to _______________ (to go) out this evening.

5.

Ruby is going out this evening, ___________ (to wear) a silk blouse, a velvet skirt and her salmon-pink stockings.

6.

The easiest part of ______________ (to date) is _______________ (to decide) what to wear.

“Mmm,” I said. “This one is a bit tricky. Can I tick off all the boxes?” Chloe slapped my wrists playfully. “No, that’s cheating, Silly. See it says at the top of the page that you may choose just one response.” She sniggered. “I’d go for the last option if I were you. The hardest part of dating is deciding what you want.” I studied the last option. Maybe Chloe was right. I really didn’t have any idea of what I wanted. When I thought back over my life, I couldn’t find any single category that would describe all the people I had ever dated – except possibly that they were all male. And even then I wasn’t sure. There was that interesting incident in Rome ... but my mind was rambling!

to ramble [r mbl] abschweifen

32

“Okay, Chloe. I’ll go for that one then.” I clicked on the box with my mouse and a message flashed onto the screen: “Response submitted.” Then the next question loomed up in a bright orange frame. 2. The last time you had a date was: … Yesterday. … A few days ago. … Last week. … Last month. … Last year. … Can’t remember. Chloe burst into laughter. “I know the answer to that question!” she finally managed to spit out. “I know what you are going to say,” I said resignedly. “The last box again!” “No!” Chloe could hardly control herself. “In a previous life!” “Now, who’s not taking things seriously!” I said in a stern voice. “I am going to tick the first box.” Chloe stopped laughing and looked at me admiringly. “Now you’re acting like a lawyer. Tactics! Strategy! Bluff and counter-bluff!” “I don’t want anyone to think I’m boring,” I reasoned. “So let’s go on to question three.” I clicked the mouse and submitted my response. Question 3 – this time in a blue frame – loomed into sight. to loom up [lum p] sichtbar werden stern [st n] ernst to submit sth. [səbmit] etw. abschicken

33

3. The best place to pick someone up (or be picked up) is: … The office. … A wedding. … A sauna. … The produce aisle in a supermarket. “Mmm ...,” Chloe said thoughtfully, pointing at the last option. “From bitter personal experience I would say the produce aisle of the supermarket is highly overrated. That’s where I met Sybil.” Her finger slid up to the penultimate option. “Take the sauna. That way people will think you’re adventurous, progressive and incredibly sexy.” I had no intention of following her advice. Saunas make me feel uncomfortable. I meant to mark “The produce aisle in the supermarket,” but the cursor seemed to have a mind of its own. It slipped and somehow the incorrect answer went into the system. We couldn’t figure out how to reset it and since I didn’t want to start the whole thing again, I let it stand. Privately I wasn’t taking this personality test at all seriously anyway. A quarter of an hour later we were on question 41. I was getting tired. The questions didn’t follow any logical strategy. They were all probably dreamt up by some frustrated psychologist who was too cowardly to meet her clients face to face. 41. Your best friend would say that you are sometimes: … Inquisitive. … Inhibited. produce aisle [prɒdjus ail] Obst- und Gemüseabteilung overrated [əυvəreitid] überbewertet penultimate [pənltimət] vorletzte

34

… … … … …

Unnecessarily pessimistic. Clumsy. Socially inept. Career-crazy. Too kind-hearted for your own good.

Yawning, I looked at Chloe. “Chloe, as my official best friend, what do you think? The last one I hope?” “Actually, as your O.B.F. I guess I should tell you the truth. I was thinking maybe we could make an exception here and check off more than one option. How about ‘unnecessarily pessimistic’ and ‘career crazy’.” Somehow I managed to stop myself from strangling her and clicked on ‘too kind-hearted for your own good’. On to the next question! 42. What kind of ‘relationship’ would suit you best? … A brief encounter. … A one-night stand. … A seasonal liaison. … A long-term relationship. … A platonic friendship. … Undecided. Chloe sighed. “Whatever you do, don’t mark ‘Long-term relationship’. That will scare everybody off. Go for ‘undecided’. That way you retain an air of mystery!” Half an hour later we had finally arrived at question 59. 59.Your idea of brilliant sex involves: … Romantic destinations. … Leather goods. 35

… … … …

Red-light districts. Rubber toys. Foreplay. Fireplaces.

Hmm ... romantic destinations! I thought of spending a week with Harry in a sleepy fishing village on Crete. We would eat Astako Pilafo – lobster, sautéed in olive oil and basil and served with tender white rice. We would wash it down with a cool, white Dafni wine, extracted from the rarest grape on the island. Then we would watch the colourful, wooden boats bob around in the bay and look on in awe as the leathery-skinned Greek fishermen hauled in their catch and the sun sank below the horizon. Finally we would return to our hotel and ... I tried to click on ‘romantic destinations’ but again the cursor slipped and I ended up clicking on ‘Leather goods’ by mistake. Of course we couldn’t figure out how to remedy it so, eager to quickly banish erotic fantasies, I skipped ahead. 60. Where would you prefer to be on your ideal first date? … Walking in the park. … Eating a candle-lit dinner. … Visiting a safari park. … Taking part in a protest rally. … Joining a motorbike tour. sautéed [səυteid] gedünstet basil [b zl] Basilikum to bob around [bɒb əraυnd] herumdümpeln to haul in one’s catch [hɔl in wnz k tʃ] seinen Fang einholen to remedy sth. [remədi] etw. berichtigen

36

… Doing a parachute jump in tandem. … Watching a retro-musical (e. g. Grease).

The last option made me think of Greece again. I had only ever been to Crete once. By coincidence it had been with Rick. We had taken his motorbike, driven along a number of rocky roads towards the coast and climbed down to a white limestone gully leading to Vathi beach, an isolated place ideally suited for meditation. We had sat down on the soft sand and gazed at the foamy waves crashing down on the shore. He had said to me, “Ruby, I love you.” And I’d believed him. I had told him I loved him too. How things change! I hated him now. Rocky roads indeed. What if Harry invited me to Greece? Would I go? Still day-dreaming, I sighed and clicked an option. Chloe looked at me in horror. “But you hate motorbikes!” she screeched. I wasn’t about to tell her that I had been thinking of Rick, so I merely shrugged. “Love? Hate? What’s the difference? I just want to get this thing over!” Exercise 8: Fill in “The Dating Game”-ABC. The number of letters in the missing word is indicated. 1.

A stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – Tim has one of these in his office.

2.

B stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – Ruby’s mother changes these as often as other women change their hair colour.

gully [li] Schlucht foamy [fəυmi] schaumig to shrug [ʃr] mit den Achseln zucken

37

3.

C stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ women – Ruby is one.

4.

D stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ – a way people find out if they like each other.

5.

E stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – this is the crime that Harry is accused of.

6.

F stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – this is what Tim accuses Ruby of.

7.

G stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – the Tate Modern is one.

8.

H stands for _ _ _ _ _ – the client Ruby is beginning to fall in love with.

And magically it was. Instead of another rainbow frame, a new message appeared on the screen. A positive, lifeaffirming missive. “If over 75 percent of your answers match someone’s profile, this indicates high compatibility. We have filtered out all the potential matches in this very promising category. Which one would you like to contact first? We have found 567.”

missive [misiv] Botschaft

38

Four La Vita Nuova In that book which is My memory ... On the first page That is the chapter when I first met you Appear the words ... Here begins a new life. (Dante Alighieri) I must admit seeing the Loveboat message really cheered me up. Up until that point I suppose I was thinking that I might find ten or maybe even twenty possible dates. But 567! Surely there had to be at least one potential date among them? Maybe Harry was indeed The One – but it wouldn’t hurt to hedge my bets! I turned to Chloe in astonishment. “567!” I shrieked. “Wow!” Chloe groaned. “567 – forget it! That’s the total number for all of Europe, Asia and America. We forgot to narrow down the search criteria to London.” I was confused. “What do you mean? Narrow down the search criteria?” Chloe looked at me witheringly. “Don’t you see,” she explained with exaggerated patience. “We left the geographical option wide open. The database has found results from all over the world.” I still didn’t quite get it. to hedge one’s bets [hed wnz bets] auf Nummer sicher gehen witheringly [wiðəriŋli] vernichtend

39

Chloe leant forward and placed an exquisitely manicured fingertip on the screen. “See, Ruby, see! This guy here. What’s his name?” I screwed up my eyes to read the name on the computer screen. “Magnus Magnusson – 85 percent. Is that a lot?” Chloe nodded earnestly. “Yeah – 85 percent is rare. I usually end up going out with anybody who’s over 40 percent.” I stared at Magnus’s portrait. He was posing with a motorbike in front of what looked like a wooden hut. “Is that ... is that what I think it is?” I asked cautiously. “Yes, it is a sauna,” said Chloe, watching me closely. Her lips twitched. “Mmm ...” I studied the photo. Magnus was a real hunk of a man. Very muscular and swarthy. Not really my type, but maybe I should expand my comfort zone. Magnus, the Viking warrior, eh. I have always had a weakness for the Vikings ever since I had first read about their adventurous exploits in my first year History lessons. They had sailed the seven seas, conquered all manners of enemies and even discovered America centuries before Columbus using only the stars to guide them. What heroes! “Chloe, at 85 percent do you think Magnus could be ... The One?” Chloe smirked. “Maybe, but where do you think he lives with a name like that? Maida Vale?” I looked at the details in his personal profile. exquisitely [ikskwizitly] makellos to twitch [twitʃ] zucken swarthy [swɔði] dunkel exploit [eksplɔit] Heldentat to smirk [sm k] süffisant lächeln

40

Magnus Magnusson: I am a 35-year-old IT specialist looking for my soul mate. I live in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland ... “Reykjavik!” I squealed. “Why should I want to date a guy from Iceland?” “Maybe because of his Viking blood? You told me once that you thought you might be the reincarnation of a Norse fertility goddess.” “What! I’m sure I said no such thing!” I said indignantly. “I hear Ryanair are doing cheap flights to Iceland.” Chloe added laconically. “You could have an L.A.T. relationship!” “L.A.T.? What’s that?” I asked. Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Jeez, Ruby, you really are from a different planet, aren’t you. It’s an abbreviation. I was just talking to your mother the other day about her L.A.T. relationship. We realized we had a lot in common.” “My mother’s become a lesbian?” I said and added, “She’s always good for surprises.” Chloe shook her head sorrowfully. “You really have no idea, do you? L.A.T. stands for living apart together. Before I hitched up with Sybil, I had an L.A.T. relationship with a woman in Madrid. And your mum had one with a guy from Scotland.” “Yes,” I said. “I remember Angus. He owned his own loch, you know.” Chloe was impressed. “Did he really? Do you happen to know if he has a younger sister?” to squeal [skwil] kreischen Norse [nɔs] nordisch fertility goddess [fətiləti ɒdəs] Fruchtbarkeitsgöttin to hitch up with sb. [hitʃ p wið] mit jdm. anbändeln

41

Exercise 9: Connect these words about relationships with their opposites. Fill in the right letter. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

superficial platonic rocky soul mate long-term open

… … … … … …

a. b. c. d. e. f.

one-night stand brief exclusive serious sexual stable

My attention was drawn back to Magnus. The man did look kind of cute. And he was looking for a soul mate ... maybe, just maybe ... I certainly couldn’t put all my eggs in one basket. What if I was misreading Harry’s signals? But Chloe immediately dispelled my fantasies. “The price of fuel is going up. That will have an effect on air fares. Magnus is not the one for you. Not yet anyway. Not until we have exhausted all the other – more accessible – options.” “In other words not until I’m really desperate, and not just very desperate like I am now!” I said jokingly. She ignored me. Her fingers ran swiftly over the keyboard pressing a letter key here and a space bar there. Finally she stopped and looked at the screen with satisfaction. “Okay, I’ve narrowed the search criteria down to London.” She pointed to a number at the top of the screen. “That’s the new number of possible matches that you have!” I looked at the number. It wasn’t even in the double digits. “Three!” I screamed. “What happened to the other 574?” “Lost in cyberspace! But hey ... that’s life!” I looked in dismay at the three paltry profiles that remained. cute [kjut] süß in dismay [in dismei] bestürzt paltry [pɔltri] armselig

42

Not one of them had a compatibility rating over 60 percent And, even more suspiciously, no pictures were included. “Why don’t these guys have their pictures on display?” “Good question! I don’t know the answer to that! But now ...” She looked at her watch. “God, I really must be off. Is it that time already. Time sure does fly when you are having fun!” “Well, I’m glad somebody is! But you can’t just desert me like this in my hour of need.” Chloe was already putting her Afghan coat on and was almost out of the door. “Sorry, but I’ve got a blind date with someone called Maya. You can view all the profiles ...” “Yeah, right ... all three of them.” Chloe ignored my sarcasm. “If you don’t want to pay for membership yet, you can send each of them a one-liner, or you just whip out your credit card, pay – and then you can send them all a personal email.” “One-liner,” I echo. “What’s that?” Chloe paused by the door. “You can’t send your potential matches real emails until you have signed up for three months, or six months, or whatever. But you can send them short, pre-scripted one-liners. For example, ‘I’d like to get to know you. Send me an email.’ Something harmless like that.” “Mmm – maybe I’ll wait till tomorrow. Perhaps we can do it together.” “Sure. Why don’t you print the profiles out now and see which one takes your fancy. Then we can talk about the next move tomorrow.” I nodded. Chloe blew me a kiss. “I’ll be off then. Enjoy the show!” to whip out sth. [wip aυt] herausziehen

43

Exercise 10: Sort out these typical online dating one-liners. The words have got jumbled up. 1.

like you know I to would get to _____________________________________________.

2.

drinking beer date Do prefer a you on wine first or _____________________________________________?

3.

meeting evening How about up this _____________________________________________?

4.

favourite Please me your hobby tell about _____________________________________________.

5.

concert in you going a to Are classical interested _____________________________________________?

6.

text I you Can message send a _____________________________________________?

I decided that I would tackle the one-liners at some point in the future. I opened my diary which I kept in the cupboard in my bedroom. I was too exhausted to write very much, and in any case the programme I wanted to watch on T.V. was due to start at any minute.

to get jumbled up [et d mbld p] durcheinandergeraten to tackle sth. [t kl] etw. in Angriff nehmen

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Five Ruby’s diary I must admit the grand total of just three names has disheartened me. The other thing on my mind is Harry Keating. What is it about this guy that intrigues me so much? It can’t be his looks. I have always gone for good-looking men. Rick is a case in point. We met when I was on holiday in Italy. I was staying in a hotel in Tuscany with a gang of girlfriends. And on our last night there I met Rick ... The next morning, just before arriving at my tube station, I received a worrying email on my BlackBerry. It was from Tim. He had interviewed Janet Somerfield and had disappointing news. As he was running late, he asked me to break the news to Harry. I wouldn’t have much time to do it, unfortunately, as another client of mine had insisted on seeing me that morning too. I hurried along the Thames for a short stretch before getting to Drake Street. I pressed the buzzer and this time the bright-purple front door opened and I dragged myself up the spiral staircase. Tim hadn’t arrived yet, but his bubbly receptionist, a woman in her mid-twenties, who could have earned a fortune as a Britney Spears look-alike, was holding a small mirror up in front of her face and touching up her lipstick. “Harry ... uhm, I mean Mr Keating has already arrived.” She blushed for no apparent reason. “He’s waiting for you in the chambers.” I pushed open the door with a sinking feeling, and entered Tim’s chambers. Harry was sitting in the small green sofa next to the window. His blue eyes lit up like a gas flame bubbly [bbli] lebhaft

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when he saw me and my heart did a backwards flop. What was it about this man? He grinned, giving me a glimpse of his preternaturally white teeth. “Good morning, there, my guardian angel.” I stared at him in silence for a moment, taking in his slightly pale complexion and puppy-dog smile. “Ruby! I’m glad I’ve got you here alone for a minute.” He bounded up to me and gave me a peck on my cheek. Immediately I felt the blood rush to my face. I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out. I looked at him helplessly. He hesitated a moment, then coughed discreetly. “Can I ... er ... help you, Ruby? Is there anything wrong? Why are you staring at me like that?” Glad to have an excuse to look away, I rifled through my pocket and took out my mobile. I desperately started to thumb through the files, searching for the email in question. “No, Harry ... well, yes, actually, there is something wrong really, but don’t worry. I’ve – we’ve – got ... we will get everything under control.” “Are you sure everything’s okay, Ruby? You look ... a bit flustered.” “Now. I’ve found it. It somehow ended up in my SPAM file.” Harry’s forehead folded into wrinkles and he stared at me intently.

preternaturally [pritən tʃrəli] überirdisch to bound up to sb. [baυnd p tə] hier: nah an jdn. heranrücken peck [pek] Kuss to rifle [raifl] wühlen to thumb through sth. [θm θru] etw. durchchecken flustered [flstəd] durcheinander intently [intentli] gespannt

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I swallowed nervously a few times. “What does it say, Ruby?” I scrolled down the tiny screen and read the brief message out aloud, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hi Ruby, just to let you know we’ve had a major setback. Janet Somerfield is refusing to testify ... “ Harry gasped in horror. “Janey? But why?” “As you know, Tim went there yester... yesterday,” I stuttered, “to take her statement, but she didn’t even want to let him in. She was in a terrible state. Tim could hear that poodle of hers.” “Sir Winston?” “Yes, her poodle was yapping away inside of her apartment. She said she wasn’t feeling good and anyway, she had been mistaken about Mycroft. He hadn’t been behaving suspiciously. In her own words: ‘I made a terrible mistake.’” In the postscript to the email, Tim had written: Can you break the news to Harry gently. There’s something very strange going on ... I finally managed to tear my eyes from the BlackBerry. I looked up at Harry, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. He sat down heavily on the chair next to the window again, staring at me blankly. It looked like he hadn’t understood a word I’d been saying. “Harry?” He stood up abruptly and waved his arms in the air. “No Ruby. It’s okay. I understand ... Although I don’t really. Why has she changed her mind?” to yap [j p] kläffen

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Exercise 11: Put these events from the story into the correct chronological order. a. … b. … c. … d. … e. … f. … g. …

Ruby met Harry at a night club. Ruby signed up for Loveboat. Harry was arrested by the police for embezzlement of funds. Tim visited Janet Somerfield to take down her statement. Rick dumped Ruby. Ruby broke some bad news to her client. The star witness refused to make a statement.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sometimes ... sometimes witnesses in high profile cases like this get cold feet.” Harry looked at me earnestly. “Do you think ... No, that’s too far-fetched.” I took a step towards him and inhaled a burst of his aftershave. It smelt exotic and spicy. “Harry, are you saying that ...?” “Yes, it’s possible, isn’t it. Mycroft might have threatened her. Poor Janey. She must be going through hell, you know.” I was touched. His first thought wasn’t about how miserable his defence looked now the star witness was unwilling to testify. His first thought was about Janet, the human being. I stuck out my arm and laid my hand gently on his. “I’m truly sorry ... I’m sorry I was the one who had to break it to you. She might change her mind, you know.” Harry pulled his arm away sharply. He dug his hand into his pocket and retrieved a crumpled paper handkerchief that seemed to have reddish stains on it. Impatiently he stuffed to retrieve sth. [ritriv] etw. hervorholen

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it back into his pocket, strode to the desk, keeping his back turned to me. He grabbed one of the paper handkerchiefs Tim always has there. He dabbed his eyes. Was he about to cry? I couldn’t see his face. “I guess this means we can call it a day,” he mumbled. “With Mycroft disappearing into thin air and Janey clamming up like an oyster, there’s no way we can convince a jury of my innocence.” He turned to face me again and took a step towards me. He held out his hand and, automatically, I stuck out mine. He took my hand gently in his and stepped closer towards me. I felt as if he were casting a spell on me. My knees were beginning to feel like rubber. He crinkled his eyes and grinned. “Oh well, I suppose I can always try to sell my story to the tabloids.” His mood changed again and he looked downcast. “But I’d better do it now. It’s my Andy Warhol moment. Everybody can be famous for fifteen minutes! By the time I get out in twenty years – if I survive – no one’s going to be interested.” He laughed bitterly. I couldn’t help myself. I put out my other hand and stroked his cheek gently. “Harry, don’t say things like that,” I whispered. “This is a setback – I admit that. But it’s not the end of the world.” Harry bent his head towards mine. Our lips were practically touching. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and the scent of his aftershave wafted up my nostrils. This is ridiculous. I can’t get involved with a client. to dab sth. [d b] etw. abtupfen to call it a day [kɔl it ə dei] Feierabend machen to clam up [kl m p] dicht machen tabloids [t blɔidz] Boulevardpresse to waft up sb.’s nostrils [wɒft p / nɒstrəlz] jdm. in die Nase steigen

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But my body seemed to have a mind of its own. My lips trembled, my heart was pounding. I tried to think straight. What could I say to put off the inevitable for just a few more seconds? “Tim ... Tim is the best barrister in town, you know. He’ll get you off, for sure.” I finally murmured. That seemed to break the spell. He laughed sharply and turned away from me yet again, unclasping my hand. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He was so unpredictable. I just couldn’t second-guess his next move. He was ... fascinating. Harry moved to the window and stared out over the rooftops looking at the tower of the Tate Modern. “I don’t think that even your Tim can save me now. Ruby, why don’t you just get me some sleeping pills and I’ll ...” He turned around and looked at me mournfully, his eyes glistening. To my alarm, I began to feel tears well up in my eyes. “Harry! Harry! Stop it! Don’t say that. Don’t be ridiculous.” “Ridiculous! I’ll be convicted of embezzlement. Do you call a twenty-year prison sentence ridiculous?” “It won’t ... it won’t come to that.” Exercise 12: Change the following sentences from the passive to the active voice. Use the first word given as a subject. 1.

You won’t be convicted. Nobody ______________________________________.

2.

Mrs Somerfield wasn’t persuaded to make a statement. Tim _________________________________________.

3.

Ruby was dumped by Rick. Rick _________________________________________.

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4.

Furniture is stripped and painted to give it a distressed look. Chloe ________________________________________.

5.

A potential lover might be sent a one-liner. Ruby _________________________________________.

6.

Mrs Somerfield could have been threatened. Mycroft ______________________________________.

Harry turned around swiftly to face me. His face was flushed and his eyes flashed wildly. “Come on Ruby, I’m just being realistic. Mycroft prepared his exit well.” I put out my hand to touch his sleeve. “But the truth will come out eventually, Harry.” Ignoring my hand, Harry looked at me curiously. His next statement took me aback. “I think I may be falling in love with you, Ruby. I just can’t help myself. Do you feel it too?” I swallowed nervously. He stared at me, his eyes exploring every corner of my face. “I ... er ... I,” I stuttered. “Why did you decide to become a lawyer, Ruby?” I hesitated, but Harry didn’t give me time to answer either question. “Wait, don’t tell me. You grew up watching all these big shot American cops and lawyer series on T.V. And you decided you wanted to save the world.” “Did you just say ... what did you just say?” He ignored my question. “And you were too good with words to be a cop so you became a lawyer instead!” Then he pulled me roughly towards him – I tried to push him away big shot [bi ʃɒt] großspurig

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briefly – but then I just gave in. I felt as if my whole body had come alive. We kissed long and passionately. But just as quickly as he had grabbed me, he let me go again and took a step backwards. He cast his eyes down to the floor and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry Ruby – that was – that was totally inappropriate.” I felt totally confused. The only thing I knew for certain was when he had kissed me, I had never wanted the moment to end. His face crumpled and he began to sob. He turned away from me, so I couldn’t see his face. I went up to him and put my hand gingerly on his back, still trying to understand my feelings. “Don’t lose faith. We’ll get you out of this fix. I promise.” He turned around. “Oh Ruby – can I see you again sometime soon?” I nodded dumbly. “How about Tuesday then? Nine o’clock? Club Zero?” I nodded again. Harry started to pull me towards him again. My heart fluttered. This time I didn’t offer any resistance. At that moment the door to the office flew open.

inappropriate [inəprəυpriət] unangebracht gingerly [d ind əli] behutsam

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Six Sonnets from the Portuguese 43 How Do I Love Thee How do I love thee? Let me count the ways I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach. (Elizabeth Barrett-Browning) Tim Evans strode in, but he came to an abrupt halt when he saw the two of us in a tangled embrace. He ruffled his mop of ginger hair with his left hand and coughed sharply. Harry let go of me immediately and I stood there staring at Tim aghast. Harry recovered first. “I was just helping Ruby remove an earring that had got stuck.” Tim gave him a withering gaze. “Ruby doesn’t wear earrings.” Then he turned to me. “Ruby, I see you’ve already broken the news to Harry then.” I flushed and tried to explain. “Tim, I was just explaining the situation ... uhm ... the legal ramifications to Harry here ...” Exercise 13: Fill in the missing nouns. (gift, dots, briefcase, lips, hair, tie)

Tim looked at me coldly, his 1. ____________ a narrow line. “Indeed!” He put down his 2. ____________, took in a tangled embrace [in ə t ŋld imbreis] eng umschlungen to ruffle one’s hair [rfl wnz heə] sich durch die Haare fahren to flush [flʃ] erröten ramification [r mifikeiʃn] Auswirkung

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off his overcoat and hung it up on the coat hanger. His ginger 3. ____________ always managed to clash with whatever 4. ____________ he was wearing. Today it was scarlet with small golden 5. ____________ – no doubt another 6. ____________ from his aunt Patsy. Picking up his briefcase, Tim glided to his desk and sat down in the seat I’d just vacated. “Thank you, Ruby. Just leave the rest to me. Shall we meet up at 10 a.m. tomorrow morning for a strategy briefing?” I stared past him at the mega-aquarium lodged in the wall behind his desk. I could see Nemo flitting through fronds of marine vegetation and darting through passageways in a mock coral reef. I fought for composure. My eyes moved back to Tim. “Have you forgotten, Tim? Tomorrow is Saturday. Can’t we leave this until Monday? I was planning to go out to ...” I struggled to fabricate something. “... the opera this evening.” Tim returned my gaze. His eyes were still cold. “Sure, Ruby. No problem. I’ll get some of the paperwork done over the weekend and we can meet up briefly to tie up the loose ends on Monday if it suits you?” Typical – the subtext for our client was: “I can do this job without her.” “I’ll jot down some ideas too and so we can compare notes lodged [lɒd d] hier: eingelassen to flit [flit] flitzen fronds of marine vegetation [frɒndz əv mərin ved əteiʃn] Wasserpflanzen to jot down sth. [d ɒt daυn] etw. notieren

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on Monday and reach a joint ...“ – I was careful to stress that word – “... agreement on our future strategy then, Tim. I appreciate your flexibility.” Tim, momentarily nonplussed, recovered quickly. “Right, see you Monday then.” There was no question about it – I was being sent out of the room like a school girl. I went to the closet and picked my orange-and-brown velvet jacket from the hangar where it hung snugly next to Tim’s charcoal overcoat. “Madame Butterfly?” That was Harry. I snapped my head towards him. “Sorry?” “Madame Butterfly?” He grinned at me and I felt myself blush once again. This was turning into an embarrassing habit. “What are you talking about, Harry?” “The opera you’re going to see, I mean? Is it Madame Butterfly? That’s one of my favourites, and it’s playing at the Royal Albert Hall tonight. I wish I had tickets. Do you like it too, Ruby?” I coughed. “Well, actually, yes – I mean, it happens to be one of my favourites too ...” Tim snorted. “What a coincidence! And where is the venue? As far as I know it isn’t being performed anywhere in London at the moment.” His voice sounded sharp. Of course I wasn’t going to the opera that night. I don’t know why I said I was. I had to concentrate hard to spin a realistic story. “Well, I didn’t mean that. It is one of my favourites, but tonight I’m going to see a different opera.” “And which one if I may ask?” Tim asked dryly. nonplussed [nɒnplst] perplex to snort [snɔt] schnauben venue [venju] Veranstaltungsort

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I paused briefly. I tried to appear cool, calm and collected, but my mind was working overtime. “Don ... er ... Pablo.” Harry looked puzzled. “Don Pablo? I don’t believe I know that one.” “Not many people do,” I said hurriedly. “It’s a new one. A post-modern ... er ... production.” Before either of them could ask any more questions, I picked up my briefcase, retrieved my BlackBerry from the desk. With all the dignity I could muster I said, “I’m sorry. I have to go now. I have an appointment with another client. It’s an ... emergency.” Hoping that my lipstick hadn’t smeared too much, I said goodbye to my client and my colleague. Feeling rather like a clown fish myself, I darted out of the office to the relative safety of the front office. “Britney” was nowhere to be seen – out on one of her many coffee-breaks, no doubt. I caught a glimpse of an ashtray on her desk. I thought longingly of cigarettes. I had given up the habit weeks ago and wasn’t prepared to start it again. But the scene with Harry had totally unsettled me. Could I really be falling in love with a client? It was a totally inappropriate thing for me to do. Falling in love with a client! Kissing him passionately in my colleague’s office. Making a date with him! But if he were telling the truth, he seemed to be falling in love with me too. I could still feel the pressure of his lips against mine. Christ – I had to rid myself of this obsession for him. I had to find a profile of someone on the Internet. Someone that I could imagine going out on a date with. to muster sth. [mstə] etw. aufbringen

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Exercise 14: Could this be Ruby’s ideal partner? Change the following nouns into adjectives and complete the brief profile.

Hello, I’m a 1. _______________ (passion) thirty-fiveyear-old man who is 2. __________________ (adventure) and 3. _____________ (athlete). I’ve always stayed as 4. _________________ (curiosity) as a child and am interest-

ed in exploring new places and meeting a 5. ____________ (music) and 6. _____________ (poetry) woman.

“Ruby! Darling! Are you daydreaming? Tell that nephew of mine to take it easy with you. He’s got you running around in circles for him again. No wonder you’re tired.” Oh no! Patricia Wilkes – Tim’s Aunt Patsy – was lying in wait for me. I looked up and spotted her peering at me through the doorway from behind a filing cabinet at the end of the long, narrow corridor which led to a staircase, which, in turn, led down to her penthouse. She was holding a blue watering can in one hand, and seemed to be tending to a long-neglected fern whose delicate fronds, coated in dust, looked sad and brittle. I was sure that Patsy wasn’t truly interested in saving the fern. Not just Tim’s maiden aunt but also his landlady, she probably felt lonely and that’s why she haunted the office. She spent an inordinate amount of time stalking around,

to peer at sb. [piər ət] jdn. anstarren fern [f n] Farn inordinate [inɔdinət] übermäßig

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unnecessarily dusting ferns and furniture and dispensing unasked advice to anyone within earshot. “Oh, hi Patricia. I didn’t see you there.” Patsy smirked and sprinkled the last drops of water over the moribund fern. She shambled towards me, her huge girth effectively blocking my escape route. Immediate escape was no longer on the agenda. “I can read your mind, you know. Hopeless case, don’t you think?” “You mean the fern? Yes – it certainly looks as if it’s on its last legs.” “Not the fern, Ruby. All that needs is a bit more TLC. I mean that guy Keating. I don’t know why my nephew always has to pick clients that are no better than pond scum.” “Pond scum! Don’t you think you are being a bit harsh on Harry ... I mean Mr Keating. Don’t forget a person is ...” “I know, I know.” Her voice went up an octave and took on a sing-song quality. “A person is innocent until proven guilty.” She giggled, covering her mouth like a school girl. “That maxim’s all right for lawyers, I suppose. Just as long as you don’t go through life believing it.” “Patsy – Mr Keating has been framed. Obviously the details of the case are secret. I can’t go into them with you ...” “Privileged information and all that?” “Exactly. But how can you judge him without knowing anything about the case?” Patsy smiled at me angelically.

to dispense advice [dispens ədvais] Ratschläge erteilen moribund [mɒribnd] todgeweiht to shamble [ʃ mbl] schlurfen girth [ θ] Leibesfülle TLC = Tender Loving Care [tendə lviŋ keə] Streicheleinheiten pond scum [pɒnd skm] Abschaum jarring [d ɑriŋ] schrill

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A jarring thought struck me. What if Patsy had been snooping in the office by night? “I just know when people are telling the truth and when they’re lying, that’s all.” She pointed to her green eyes which looked remarkably similar to Chloe’s. “Seeing eyes. It’s a gift. Like women’s intuition but even more powerful.” How typical! Of course she wouldn’t need to know any facts. This woman didn’t have to snoop. Intuition was all that she needed. “Well, Patsy, maybe you should have taken up a legal career then. As a high court judge for instance! You would have risen to the top in a flash.” But irony was lost on Patsy. She swished a hand through her dyed ginger hair making it shiver like an orange jelly. “I know. But I just didn’t have the opportunities you young things have. I wanted to study law but my father thought a young woman’s place was in the home.” Jesus, I thought. She’s making it sound as if she was brought up in Victorian times. The woman can only be sixty at the most. Roughly the same age as my mother and her parents certainly didn’t expect her to be a housewife. “Whatever!” I said curtly, shifting my weight slightly to one side. “Excuse me, though, Patsy. I really must be off now.” I held up my briefcase and waved my finger pointedly towards it, trying to sound important. “Case notes to work on, you know.” Patsy bowed theatrically, but, thankfully, inched to one side allowing me to approach the spiral stairway. “Watch the stairs – they’re steep. Don’t work so hard. Go home and watch the telly instead.” to snoop [snup] schnüffeln to swish [swiʃ] wuscheln to inch [intʃ] sich langsam bewegen

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I flinched. But Patsy still hadn’t finished. “Or a night out with your boyfriend. Even better. You do have a boyfriend, don’t you? A beautiful young woman like you.” I started down the spiralling depths of the staircase and delivered my standard line. “I have no time for boyfriends at this stage in my career, thank you.” “No need to be so defensive, my dear. I’m glad to hear that. Now maybe Tim does have a chance after all. I noticed that he’s been making eyes at you. The two of you would make such a sweet couple ...” I groaned inwardly but said nothing, simply flashing her a short saccharine smile before disappearing down the staircase. I tried to feel charitable towards her. She just didn’t want to be alone. I sighed. As far as I was concerned being alone was an attractive option right now. I couldn’t wait to get away from Tim’s chambers. After meeting up with my next client, I would try to take the rest of the day off. I would go back home to my little flat in Maida ... and put my feet up in front of the telly, my sole companion, a micro-waved meal and a bottle of red wine. I don’t know why I had lied to Tim and Harry about going to the opera. I reached the bottom of the staircase, pushed open the front door and gratefully breathed in the fresh air. In some ways Patsy’s last remark about Tim fancying me had come as a bit of a relief. Up until then I had half-believed that Patsy might be able to read minds. But she was definitely wrong as far as Tim was concerned. There was no way that that man had been sending out any kind of mating signals. I’ve known fish with more romantic intentions.

to flinch [flintʃ] zusammenzucken charitable [tʃ ritəbl] nachsichtig

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Seven Ruby’s diary When I got home today, there was a box of orchids waiting for me. They were from Harry. I put the fragile pink and purple blooms into a crystal vase and placed it carefully on the coffee table. I felt quite intoxicated. The fragrance of the flowers filled the living room. Kissing Harry has obviously totally blown my mind. Am I really so attracted to him? Or do I just feel sorry for him because of the predicament he’s in? Mmm ... I’ve never seen anybody go through such a wide range of emotions in such a short time. Did I really agree to go out with him on a date? Well, it’s obvious that that’s out of the question. I just said I’d meet up with him in the heat of the moment. Whatever happens, I’m not going to tell Chloe about this mess. I have to work things out for myself. I have to find out how I feel about him. But how am I going to do that if I don’t go out on a date with him? I stopped writing and lit two candles on the coffee table. I didn’t want to think about Harry all the time, so I put the diary to one side and poured myself a glass of Chianti. I sank back into the comforting embrace of the Laura Ashley cushions and watched as the flickering glow of the candlelight washed around the pink orchids leaving the rest of the living room looking dim and mysterious. Briefly I debated whether to finally send off a few one-liners after all. Or should I try to distract myself and just vegetate in front of the T.V.? There was no competition. I picked up the remote and remote [riməυt] Fernbedienung

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quickly flicked through the channels until I finally found the show I wanted – an entertaining legal thriller starring George Clooney as the suave criminal lawyer. I sprawled out on the sofa, stretched out my legs and carefully balancing a glass of wine on my knee, prepared myself for a cosy evening at home. But, despite all attempts at self-distraction, my thoughts kept turning to either Rick or Harry. Probably this obsession with Harry was purely hormonal – it was just that time of the month. I forced myself to concentrate on the show. The scene was a courtroom – the judge, a black woman in her mid-forties, had a sceptical look on her face. She was listening to George Clooney questioning a teenage suspect who was stubbornly protesting his innocence. George was indomitable. “Admit it, Paolo. You pulled the trigger. I can read your mind.” I took another sip of Chianti and tried to get into the plot. An insistent, horribly familiar buzzing sound interrupted me. It was my mother’s signature tune – Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. I muted the volume on the T.V., picked up my BlackBerry and pressed the green button. “Hi Charlie. How’s things?” “Hi Pumpkin. I’m doing fine.” My grandfather, Charlie’s father, had been American and Charlie was apt to throw in the odd Americanism, here and there. “I’ve just thrown Mike out.” Mike was the latest in a dazzling array of boyfriends. to flick through [flik θru] durchzappen suave [swɑv] weltmännisch to sprawl out [sprɔl aυt] sich breitmachen indomitable [indɒmitəbl] eisern to be apt to do sth. [bi  pt tə du] dazu neigen, etw. zu tun array [ərei] Abfolge

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“Mike? Why? He was so cute.” My mother snorted. “Too cute for his own good. He was two-timing me, you know. I won’t stand for that. If a man can’t be faithful – at least for the first month – what use is he to me?” “I’m sorry, Mum. You must be feeling shattered ...” “Nonsense, Pumpkin. Water off a duck’s back! Anyway, there’s still good old Al. And I’ve met someone else on Loveboat – a corporate lawyer in his early forties. Nice eyebrows.” “Charlotte!” My mother chortled. “I object to that name. Don’t you call me Charlotte, Ruby. Nobody is supposed to know that that’s my name. Whenever you do that you sound like just like Gran.” Mum liked to be known as Charlie. She thought Charlie was hip, whereas the name Charlotte sounded hopelessly oldfashioned to her, like a Victorian knitting pattern. But, just like my grandmother had done, I loved the name. I burst out laughing and my mother joined in. She was the first to regain control. Exercise 15: Are the following statements true or false? Mark the correct sentences. 1. …

Aunt Patsy is quite fat. 2. … Aunt Patsy has a high opinion of her nephew’s client. 3. … Ruby doesn’t have much of a social life and she enjoys watching films. 4. … Charlie objects to her Christian name. to two-time [tutaim] fremdgehen Water off a duck’s back! [wɔtər ɒf ə dks b k] Das lässt mich völlig kalt. to chortle [tʃɔtl] glucksen

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5. …

Ruby has agreed to go out on a date with her client. 6. … Tim wears ties in colours that clash with his ginger hair. “And how’s your life going, Pumpkin?” I took another sip of Chianti. “Not good. Tim seems to be worried ...” “I like Tim. Sometimes I think ...” “What?” “Well, wouldn’t it be nice if the two of you went out on a date?” I had to laugh. “Forget that, Mum. Neither Tim nor I are interested in extending our relationship beyond work. I can assure you of that.” Charlie was not one to give up easily. “Ruby, at your age you can’t afford to neglect an opportunity. But anyway, when I asked you how you were, I wasn’t referring to your work life. I meant your love life. Are you dating anybody yet?” I felt a familiar wave of irritation sweeping over me. Ever since I went out with my first boyfriend at the age of fourteen, my mother has been keeping close tabs on my love life. Or trying to, at least. “Mum, you know I have no time for that kind of thing at this stage in my career ...” “Bull...shit!” My mother wasn’t going to be fobbed off with feeble excuses. Nevertheless, I had to try. “Mum! I’m serious. You don’t know how important this Keating case is ...” to keep close tabs on sth. [kip kləυz t ps ɒn] ein wachsames Auge auf etw. haben to fob sb. off [fɒb ɒf] jdn. abspeisen

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“Tick, tock, tick, tock ...” I put the glass of Chianti down next to the vase of orchids. “Tick, tock? What are you talking about?” “That’s just the sad sound of your biological clock ticking away my dear. Listen! Tick, tock, tick, tock. Do you hear it?” I gazed at the orchids and tried to imagine for a moment what family life with Harry might be like. But Charlie interrupted my reverie. “You can always stop and start your career, but once your biological clock has run out, you can’t rewind it. At some point it might be too late to start a family, you know.” I tore my gaze from the orchids and stared at the stucco ceiling. “Yeah – but aren’t you grateful, Mum. At least there’s no danger of me making you into a grandmother any time soon.” I knew my mother would never admit it, but she was hoping for grandchildren in the not too distant future. There was the briefest of pauses. “Grandchildren aren’t the issue. You are about to turn thirty – what are you doing staying in on a Friday evening? You should be out partying – like Chloe. I bet she’s not at home, is she? It’s a shame that ... you know.” “I know, Mum! Let’s not go there.” “Or are you gay too? Or could you imagine being? It’s not too late, you know. I mean, you and Chloe would make a great couple. And then you could throw your biological clock out of the window.” She paused as if calculating probabilities. “Although more and more gay couples are having kids these days ...” reverie [revəri] Tagtraum

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“Mum, I’m not gay, and I’m never going to be. I’m just not ...” I hesitated. “Not what?” “Not ... ready.” “Not ready for what?” My mother sounded mystified. This was getting tricky. I took another sip of Chianti. “Not ready for ... well, for a relationship with a man.” “Hah! You are gay, after all. I’ve always known it. You never stopped playing football when you were small, and you hated your dolls.” “No, I mean a permanent relationship with a man, Mum.” “Permanent relationship?” she spluttered. “You don’t even have a temporary relationship yet. You have to start somewhere you know. And that reminds me – what ever happened to Rick? You never explained to me why you broke up with him.” I could never bring myself to admit to my mother that he was the one that had left me. I took another sip of wine. “Did it have anything to do with Fran?” I felt as if I was being sucked into a black hole. “Forget Rick!” I said abruptly. I heard my mother expel air noisily. For a moment there was a brief silence. Then she started again. “So when are you going to start dating?” “Mum, it isn’t all that easy, you know.” “What’s not easy about it, child?” I fiddled with my hair. The Chianti was slowing my thought processes down. “Well, you know. The first bit.” “The first bit? What do you mean by the first bit?” “Well, you know. The first bit.” I repeated with an edge in my voice. to expel sth. [ikspel] etw. ausstoßen

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My mother was suddenly concerned. “You don’t mean the kissing bit, do you?” she said sounding horrified. “Do you have problems with French kissing?” I thought of the passionate kiss Harry had given me today. “Mum, of course not. That’s not the problem. I’m almost thirty, not thirteen. I know how to kiss.” This is ridiculous, I thought. How many nearly thirty-yearolds have conversations about French kissing with their mothers? But Charlie has always been an unconventional sort of mother. She told me all about birth control on my twelfth birthday. On my thirteenth birthday I got my first bra and a rainbow of condoms – “just in case.” “What I mean, Mother,” I said, straining to sound sober and mature. “What I wanted to say was ... it’s simply a case of ...” Suddenly I was struck by an inspiring analogy. “It’s all about supply and demand, you know. Economics. First principles.” There was a long, eerie silence on the other side of the line. “Ruby! Are you trying to evade the issue? Don’t turn all lawyer on me. I know what supply and demand means. Don’t forget, I did study economics, after all. At least for one term. So what exactly is it that you’re saying?” Exercise 16: Match these word stems with an appropriate suffix (or word ending) to make words that have appeared in the story. Fill in the right letter. 1. 2. 3. 4.

supfriendprobaaquar-

… … … …

-scope b. -bility c. -mony d. -ion a.

eerie [iəri] unheimlich

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5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

embezzleexasperacomplexteletestievi-

… … … … … …

e. f. g. h. i. j.

-ium -dence -ply -tion -ment -ship

I glanced at the profiles in front of me on the table, the meagre pickings of my Internet escapade. “I’ll spell it out, Mum. At my age there seems to be a slight, a very slight discrepancy between the supply and the demand side, if you know what I mean. There aren’t many interesting men out there of my age who are still single. All the best ones have been taken.” Or are on trial for embezzlement, I thought. “But what about the Internet? It’s a great resource. Look, I’m sixty years old and if I can find a boyfriend at my age, you certainly can! I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to persuade you to sign up for Loveboat. I’m sure you would get hundreds of men matching your profile.” There was no way that I was going to admit that I had received only three possible matches on her favourite dating site, all under 60 percent. “Internet dating is a last resort for the desperate, Mum.” My mother snorted yet again. “I can’t believe you’re my own flesh and blood! Listen, Ruby. Where have you been living these last ten years? Don’t be so pompous and oldfashioned. Everybody uses the Internet these days. You are an attractive, intelligent, sweet woman. You will have them beating your door down. When you’re my age, you’ll have to work at it, but at your age ...” I gulped down some more Chianti. “Maybe I’m different 68

from you, Mother. Or maybe I’m just a little choosy.” “Oh, now I see which way the wind is blowing. You think that I’m promiscuous. But what’s wrong with variety? I don’t know how long I can keep things up, but for now, I’m having fun. It’s a game. The dating game! Don’t take life so seriously, Pumpkin. Hitch your wagon to a star and enjoy the ride. And maybe you’ll come across your true love somewhere along the way. You have to take a risk, sometimes, with someone who’s less than perfect.” “Do I? I don’t see why?” My mother snorted. “Yes, you were always so particular. You only liked mashed potatoes, never boiled or fried ones. You hated hard boiled eggs, and you only ate the most expensive yoghurt from the delicatessen. But you loved cheap hamburgers and hot mustard.” “Hot mustard?” “Yes – you were addicted to hot mustard when you were only three years old. I could have charged admission – people came round to our house, just to watch you eat mustard sandwiches ... but hold on, we’re getting off the point.” I felt more comfortable talking about my quirky food habits with my mum than about my non-existent love life, but now there was no stopping Charlie. She had scented blood and like a lion was moving in for the kill. “A blind date! I’m going to set you up on a blind date. I met someone online a few weeks ago. Anyway – he’s a really attractive man. Runs his own company. But you don’t need choosy [tʃuzi] wählerisch promiscuous [prəmiskjυəs] promiskuitiv Hitch your wagon to a star. [hitʃ jər w ən tυ ə stɑ] Greif zu den Sternen! quirky [kw ki] skurril

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to worry – he’s very cultured. He loves classical music. Has a second-home in Florida and is looking for ‘someone to make it all worth while’. I think those were his words.” “Mum, I am not going to go on a blind date with one of your rejects and that’s final.” I slammed down my glass of wine and the red liquid quivered in my glass. “Don’t worry. He’s not my reject, Ruby. Untouched goods, to use a phrase from economics! I’ve never been out with him. He’s much too young for me. So do you have your diary at hand? How about next Friday evening? His name is Leo. Your type. Tall, slim, manly yet compassionate. Financially solvent.” “Leo! How can anyone be called Leo?” “Now you’re being silly, Ruby. If you don’t like his name, you can make up a pet name for him or something. Just call him Lenny or Leazy-poo or something like that. So how about next Friday then?” Exercise 17: Which characters in the story made the following statements? 1.

How can anybody expect to find a soul mate these days? _____________________________________________

2.

Tim is so unapproachable and arrogant. _____________________________________________

3.

You don’t need to flatter me. _____________________________________________

reject [rid ekt] Abgewiesener to quiver [kwivə] zittern

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4.

I love you. _____________________________________________

5.

I made a terrible mistake. _____________________________________________

6.

Why did you decide to become a lawyer? _____________________________________________

7.

I can read your mind, you know. _____________________________________________

8.

Once your biological clock has run out you can’t rewind it. _____________________________________________

I had to put a stop to this. “Mum, you can forget that idea. Actually, I’ve got three to four men lined up. I shall start dating next week.” Without giving her a chance to respond, I slammed the phone down on the coffee table. Okay, maybe I was being rude and immature, but enough is enough. Maybe I should take another look at those profiles? Or maybe I really would go on that date with Harry. Anything is better than listening to my mother trying to offload her rejects on me. I fixed my gaze on the T.V. What was George up to now?

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Eight The Clod and the Pebble Love seeketh not Itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair. (William Blake) “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, Ruby. And believe me, I’ve met quite a few in my time. But you are simply irresistible. Don’t torture me like this. I think I’m falling in love with you.” I sighed, shrugged my shoulders modestly and brushed my lips lightly against Harry’s. He grabbed my shoulders, grasping me in a strong, hard embrace. “I’m yours, Harry,” I whispered huskily. I felt the pressure of his fingertips on my arms. “But, hey, you don’t need to ... shake me like this.” The pressure around my shoulders had intensified and become decidedly unpleasant. I felt my head bobbing up and down and an inexplicable pain shot through my head. A surge of disappointment swept through me. “Stop that, Harry. I thought you were ... different.” “Ruby! Ruby, wake up. You’ve fallen asleep in front of the T.V. again. And, anyway, who’s Harry?” I forced my eyes open and blinked a couple of times. Chloe was bending over in front of me. Surreally, a glimmering Mona Lisa provided the only source of light in the room. I blinked again. Some late-night Open University programme huskily [hskili] heiser

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about Leonardo da Vinci flickered on the T.V. screen behind Chloe. Feeling like a train wreck, I looked at Chloe enviously. Her skin looked pink and fresh in the flickering light and her eyes were clear and sparkling, like spring water. “Who’s Harry?” she repeated her question with an edge of excitement in her voice. “Life is really unfair.” I tried to distract her. “How come you get to go out partying all night and end up looking as if you’ve just got out of the shower and I get to stay at home all evening but end up with the hangover and look totally trashed?” “Don’t try to distract me, Ruby,” she said severely, kneeling down by the sofa, grabbing my hand. “Oh Chloe,” I groaned and put my hands around my head. “Why does my head hurt? What time is it?” Exercise 18: Put the verbs in the following sentences into the correct tense, either the Past Simple, Past Progressive or the Present Perfect (to watch, to look, to want, to walk, to dream, to spend, to arrive, to fall) 1.

Ruby (just) ____________________ half the night on the sofa.

2.

Chloe (just) ____________________ home.

3.

When Chloe ____________________ into the living room, Ruby was asleep and she ____________________ of Harry.

4.

Chloe ____________________ to know who Harry was. 73

5.

Chloe’s skin ____________________ fresh and pink.

6.

Ruby ____________________ a George Clooney film when she ____________________ asleep.

Chloe looked at her watch. “Three o’clock. Time for bed. But tell me, who’s this Harry? Have you finally met him? Did you send off an email to someone after all without waiting for me?” Chloe cocked her head to one side and looked at me hopefully. I suddenly had a brainwave. I shook my head. “Only in virtual reality. I think I just spent the evening with George Clooney. I fell asleep in the middle of a film where he was playing the role of a man named Harry.” Chloe looked disappointed. Great – she had swallowed my white lie. She giggled and gave me a playful nudge. “Hot stuff, eh? Certainly sounds more interesting then my evening. Maya turned out to be a scientologist. We spent the evening arguing about whether aliens control television.” “Huh?” “Forget it. Not important. Even I would have preferred to have spent the evening dreaming about George Clooney! Maybe Renée Zellweger would have popped up naked somewhere in the dream. Then it certainly would have been worth it.” I shrugged my shoulders and gazed despondently at the coffee table. Why couldn’t I bring myself to tell Chloe about Harry? What was holding me back? to cock one’s head to one side [kɒk wnz hed tə wn said] den Kopf schief legen white lie [wait lai] Notlüge despondently [dispɒndəntli] niedergeschlagen

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“What are those?” Chloe was looking at the pink orchids Harry had given me. “Oh, just some flowers. I ...” “Who gave you them? Have you got a secret admirer?” “Well, just a client, actually. Ha... I mean Mr Keating.” Chloe looked at the orchids admiringly. “Mr Keating certainly does have good taste in flowers. They’re beautiful.” She bent her head towards them to inhale the heady perfume. “They smell really sexy.” Then she turned to look at me again. “What kind of guy is this Mr Keating? Is he good-looking?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Not really stunningly goodlooking. But he makes the most of what he has.” “Oooh – that sounds interesting. What do you mean?” I sighed deeply. “Oh, please, Chloe. I’m not in the mood to talk about work. I put special stress on the word ‘work’.” Chloe nodded understandingly. “Tell me about it. My boss wants me to come up with some new ideas for a show. He wants me to research topics like alien abductions, pick-up artists, welfare mums.” I was glad Chloe had changed the subject. “What are pickup artists?” “Pick-up artists? Geeks and nerds who have come up with the ultimate virtual reality game – except they play it in night clubs and not on computers. The point is to pick up as many beautiful women as possible in an evening.” I looked at Chloe in disbelief. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me!” “No, it’s for real. I’ve done some research already. We are doing a programme on it soon. I’m interviewing a couple abduction [əbdkʃn] Entführung geek [ik] Langweiler nerd [n d] Streber

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of women who fell victim to them. Usually, because they lack self-confidence ... Oh, Ruby, why are you looking so depressed? Did your mum call again?” As usual Chloe was reading my mind. She leapt to her feet like a sprite and came over to me, putting her arms around me. Her dark hair framed her petite face. I felt the warmth of her touch and absurdly had to blink back my tears. She would make somebody the perfect partner one day – the kind any person would want – thoughtful, empathetic and stunningly attractive. Sometimes I wished I was gay. As she hugged me, I looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the Open University presenter on the T.V. holding up a model of one of Leonardo’s futuristic-looking inventions – a helicopter, I think – for the viewers’ perusal. “Yeah, she did call. You won’t believe this – she wants to set me up on a blind date with a guy called Leonardo – I mean Leo.” Exercise 19: Fill in “The Dating Game”-ABC. The number of letters in the missing word is indicated. 1.

I stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – this is the kind of dating Ruby is wary of.

2.

J stands for _ _ _ _ – Tim has to convince these people of Harry’s innocence.

to blink back one’s tears [bliŋk b k wnz tiəz] die Tränen wegzwinkern empathetic [empəθ tik] mitfühlend perusal [pəruzl] Ansicht

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3.

K stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – this is the surname of Ruby’s client.

4.

L stands for _ _ _ – could this person be one of Ruby’s mother’s rejects?

5.

M stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ Butterfly – a favourite opera of Ruby’s.

Chloe released me from her embrace, opened her handbag and started rooting around. “Oh no, I’ve run out of smokes. I’ll have to pop out and get some ... Leo! Sounds like a fitness instructor in Lycra leggings. Are you serious – you’re letting your mother fix you up with a boyfriend? Boy – the two of you really do have a close relationship!” “Yeah ... but it’s worse than that. I’m pretty sure Leo is one of her old boyfriends but she’s not letting on.” Chloe shot me a quick glance to confirm that she had heard right, but then burst out into laughter. “Sorry, Ruby,” she managed to splutter. “I can’t help it. Are you serious?” “Yeah,” I said, laughing briefly, before a sharp pain in my head made me stop abruptly. “I’d see the funny side, too, if my head didn’t hurt so much.” “Che sera, sera,” she crooned. “Who knows – maybe this Leo guy will surprise you!” “Chloe! You don’t actually think I’m desperate enough to go through with this, do you? Don’t tell me you have such a to pop out [pɒp aυt] kurz rausgehen to let on [let ɒn] sich etw. anmerken lassen to croon [krun] leise singen

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low opinion of me! Of course I have no intention of going out with him. Hah! I’m not that ... desperate.” Again, unwittingly, I had to think of Harry and the date we had arranged for Tuesday. Maybe Leo would be a wiser choice! All things considered, I needed more options. I made a sudden resolution. “Okay! I’ve decided. I’m going to pay for a three-month subscription to Loveboat right now and find my own idiot boyfriends for myself. Thank you very much!” A short time later after Chloe had run out to restock on cigarettes, both of us were studying the three profiles that had survived the cull. Although my thoughts kept returning to Harry, I had now firmly decided that he was out of bounds. “Chloe, what do you think of this one?” I said, pointing to one of the three profiles. “35-year-old professional, interested in popular culture and music – 20 percent compatible.” Chloe looked at me triumphantly. “You see! A perfect match.” “At 20 percent? Sure! To tell you the truth, Chloe, I feel a bit nervous. I mean, how am I supposed to decide between ...” I pointed at other profiles on the screen which had been automatically picked out as being compatible with my personality profile. “... a 38-year-old from Hackney who is into sky-diving and Kafka (33 percent) and a 33-year-old architect from unwittingly [nwitiŋli] unbewusst to restock [ristɒk] die Vorräte wieder auffüllen to be out of bounds [bi aυt əv baυndz] nicht in Frage kommen

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Kensington who loves real ale (51 percent)? How am I supposed to decide with so little information.” Chloe began speaking to me patiently, like a school teacher lecturing a backward pupil. Exercise 20: Find the appropriate synonym with a Latin root for the phrasal/prepositional verbs underlined in the text. Fill in the right number. a. … b. … c. … d. … e. … f. …

contact invent appeals to arrange regarded register

“First of all you 1. come up with a nom-de-plume and 2. sign up.”

“Okay, my nickname will be Cio-Cio-San.” “Cio-Cio-San? What does that mean?” “Madame Butterfly in Japanese.” Chloe 3. looked at me curiously but didn’t ask any questions. “Right then, Cio-Cio-San. Then you write them an email and see whether you’re on the same wavelength or not. Only then do you 4. set up your first date. Or, if you’re cautious, you begin to text each other.” “But I’m not good at expressing myself – emotionally – in emails. It seems kind of unnatural.” My voice trailed off. “Well, you can call them up, too, of course. See if their voice 5. turns you on. But send them a brief email first. Or just wait for one of them to 6. get in touch with you!” to trail off [treil ɒf] leiser werden

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I smiled. “You mean the old game – playing hard to get.” Chloe nodded seriously. “I’ve come to the conclusion that there is something in that. I’m always too honest about my feelings. If I like someone, I tell them I do up front.” “And that’s not a good thing?” “Well, sometimes it scares them off – they think I want too much from them. Or it has the opposite effect. Sybil just took me for granted. She knew I’d always be there for her.” Tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes. I stuck out my hand and stroked her arm. “That’s her loss. You know that.” Chloe swallowed, then nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m over Sybil. Just like you’re over that bastard Rick.” Rick! At one point I thought Rick was The One. I’d never felt like that about anyone before – the feeling that my world was complete as long as he was in it. Then the amazement when he broke up with me by text message. “He didn’t even bother to tell me personally ...” “It’s easier for them that way. You don’t see the person’s upper lip tremble. You don’t hear their voice quiver. Sybil did the same with me. Her message was, ‘I need space’. I asked her if she was an astronaut or something.” “Yeah – and Rick texted me ‘I’m confused and I need some time to find myself’.” Chloe laughed. “And what you should have said was ...” I jumped in before she could. “Here’s a candle, honey. Now go find yourself!”

up front [p frnt] gleich

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Nine Ruby’s diary I’ve signed up with Loveboat for three months. I think it’s the right decision. I might only have three matches at the moment, but so what. I have sent each of the men a short, friendly email and I can’t wait to see their replies. At least it gives me something to look forward to and it takes my mind off Harry. The next day I turned on my computer and checked my emails. Yes! Six entries! Three from the people I had already contacted and three from men who had been attracted to my profile! I decided to keep the three ‘familiar’ ones until last and to begin by looking at the new ones. Chloe was in the kitchen. I called her over. “Come here, Chloe. I’ve had six responses, would you believe!” Chloe hurried over balancing a tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. “Sektfrühstück!” Chloe often came up with the odd German phrase or two in the most unexpected situations. I usually had no idea what they meant, and so I usually just ignored them. “A champagne breakfast. This is a reason to celebrate! Go on, Rube. Open the first one and see what it says!” I grabbed a flute and breathlessly double-clicked on the first message. Hi Cio-Cio-San, I just read your profile and see that you are into motorbikes!!!! Well, that is great because I just happen to love biking. 81

I have been a Hell’s Angel for ten years and would really love to meet a girl who shares my passion. Drop me a line and maybe we can burn some leather together, Best Wishes Hell_on_Leather “Hmm,” I said feeling chastened. “Maybe we should have started the form from the beginning after all.” Chloe nodded sagely and opened the champagne. The cork popped off and before the precious drops could overflow, Chloe had tipped the bottle expertly over one of the flutes. “Well, I would never say I told you so, but ...” She let her sentence hang in the air like a dagger and filled the second flute. I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. There are five more still.” I double-clicked on the second email. Hail to thee, She Who Calls Herself Cio-Cio-San, I would like to be your slave. Do to me anything you see fit. Let’s meet at the sauna in Green Street next Monday at four. You will recognize me because I will be wearing a leather mask. Obsequiously yours, Rocky Chloe could barely contain herself. “Oh my God, Ruby – you certain know how to attract them, don’t you!” I bit my lip. “Please, just reassure me that there is no way this weirdo can track me down, Chloe!” chastened [tʃeisnd] ernüchtert obsequiously [əbsikwiəsli] unterwürfig

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Chloe giggled. “Don’t worry – you can block him from your contacts list.” She grabbed the mouse and clicked around madly. “Done – you will never hear anything more from poor Rocky. Okay, can you face the last newbie? Here, have some champagne. That will calm your nerves.” I nodded and took a sip. “I guess. This time it will probably be a seventy-year old who is into knitting and jet-skiing.” I double-clicked on the third email. Exercise 21: Put the verbs into the correct form of the gerund (doing) or the full infinitive (to do). (to meet (2x), to have, to be, to ask, to hear, to go)

Hallo Cio-Cio-San, I see from your profile that you are an art-lover. I happen 1. ______________ an artist who has fallen on hard times. I see that you love the works of Frida Kahlo. He is also one of my favourite artists. I enjoy 2. ______________ to his exhibitions. What a coincidence! Would you like 3. ______________ me at Sainsbury’s for coffee sometime? How about Thursday at six o’clock? Actually, I’m currently working at Sainsbury’s as I am between jobs. My shift ends shortly before six. I used 4. ______________ a better job but I’m afraid it interfered with my artistic creanewbie [njubi] Anfänger

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tivity. I wouldn’t mind 5. ______________ up with you somewhere fancier, but I’m afraid I’d have 6. ______________ you to take care of the financial aspects in that case. As I said before I am currently going through a difficult period and I am looking for art lovers to sponsor my latest project – supermarket art. I plan to exhibit in the Tate Modern. Look forward to 7. ______________ from you. All the best Patrick I snorted. “He calls himself an artist and thinks Frida Kahlo was a man. I told you, Chloe – there are nothing but idiots out there in cyberspace!” Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “What about the next three?” Eagerly I pored over the next email. It was my top match – the 33-year old architect from Kensington who was into real ale. Dear Cio-Cio-San, I love your nickname, by the way. Are you Chinese? I visited China last year and adored the Forbidden City. It inspired me to come up with a new design for an office block in Cheltenham. I was glad to see that you appear to have the same hobbies as I do. Motorbike racing and S&M ... to pore over sth. [pɔr əυvə] sich in etw. vertiefen

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What? I was sure that I hadn’t marked off anything to do with S&M, just that question about leather ... With a sigh I rejected him and tried to ignore Chloe’s laughter. I moved on to the next – from the 38-year-old sky-diver from Hackney. Hi Cio-Cio-San, Thank you for your email yesterday. I would really love to get to know you personally. Maybe we can meet up on Friday. As you know I live in Hackney and am into sky-diving. I’d invite you to go sky-diving with me, but I’m not sure it would be so appropriate for our first date. Maybe I can suggest a compromise. How would you like to come for a ride with me on the London Eye. I could book us a private pod and bring along a bottle of champagne. How does that sound? Greetings Thor23 PS: Can you send me a photo? “Mmm – at least it sounds more promising than the first. But what kind of man calls himself Thor23?” Chloe took a sip of champagne and shrugged. “A meteorologist?” I called up the last email, the one from the 35 year old professional, the 20 percent match. Cio-Cio-San, I loved reading your email. And I would love to meet you in person. Do you have time Tuesday evening at six p.m.? We pod [pɒd] Kabine

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could meet at a Japanese bar in Kensington. It’s called The Bonze. I’ll be carrying a copy of the F.T. It’s a pink newspaper, so you are bound to recognize me. I’ll also be wearing silver cuff links shaped like a bat. Looking forward to meeting you in person, Bruce Wayne “Bruce Wayne sounds intriguing. Is it a pseudonym?” Chloe screwed up her eyes in concentration. “I’ve heard the name before, but I can’t quite remember ... It’s coming back to me ... No, it’s gone! So will you go? He sounds nice. Certainly the best of the bunch!” “Mmm, don’t you think he sounds a little ... well ... conservative. And the score is only 20 percent.” Chloe sighed. “Now don’t go getting all critical – meet the guy, give him a chance. It’s not as if you are doing anything else on Tuesday, is it?” I blushed. Chloe gave me a piercing look. “Or are you? You don’t already have another date, do you? Leo Lycra-pants, perhaps?” I shook my head violently. “I haven’t arranged a date with anybody for months.” Exercise 22: Put “for” or “since” into the gaps in Ruby’s statements. 1.

_______ then, I have been very reluctant to date.

2.

I’ve been single _______ about a year.

3.

But I have certainly become unapproachable _______ Rick broke up with me.

cuff link [kf liŋk] Manschettenknopf

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4.

I have always had a weakness for the Vikings ever _______ I had first read about them in my first year History lessons.

5.

_______ I went out with my first boyfriend at the age of fourteen, my mother has been keeping tabs on my love life.

6.

Harry’s been my client _______ just a short time.

I didn’t really understand why I wanted to keep my date with Harry a secret from my best friend. I did a swift mental calculation. The date with Harry was for nine p.m. at Club Zero. If I met Bruce Wayne at six o’clock at The Bonze and didn’t like him, it would give me the perfect excuse to leave early. But on the other hand, if I did like him, it might break the spell Harry had cast on me. “Okay, you’re on, Bruce Wayne!” I quickly drafted my reply. Dear Bruce, I’d love to meet up with you on Tuesday. I will be there at six p.m. You will recognize me because I will be carrying ... I looked around the living room and my eyes came to rest on Chloe’s unmistakable banana-yellow handbag. “Can I borrow your handbag for the date, Chloe?” Chloe nodded. “Sure, feel free. And my clothes, my makeup, my jewellery. Anything. As long as it makes you get up off the sofa, pet. But I warn you – yellow is the new black. Everyone has yellow handbags these days.” 87

“Nonsense, Chloe. You are the only woman I know who has one like that!” I continued writing. ... a banana-yellow handbag. See you Tuesday, Best Wishes Cio-Cio-San I clicked on SEND before I could change my mind. Chloe thrust her arms around me. “Finally, Ruby. I can’t believe you’ve done this. I promise, you won’t regret it.” I grinned back at her. “Famous last words.”

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Ten Beautiful Dreamer Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee; Sounds of the rude world heard in the day, Lull’d by the moonlight have all pass’d a way! (Stephen Foster) After sending the email, I leant back in my chair, dreamily, and finished my champagne. “So, how has your week been then, Ruby?” Chloe was looking at me expectantly. Glad to get my mind off the subject of romance or the lack of it for a minute, I briefly recounted the events of the last few days (except for the entanglement with Harry). Chloe listened intently, lit a candle on the coffee table and looked at me thoughtfully. “And you are really sure this Keating guy is innocent? You’re sure he’s not leading you up the garden path?” “Absolutely.” I sniffed and watched the tiny flame waver on the wick. “And I was quite confident we’d get Harry – I mean Mr Keating – off.” I floundered for a moment, hoping that Chloe wouldn’t make the connection between Harry and the lie I had told her previously about George Clooney. I scanned her face anxiously but although she appeared to be listening to me intently, she apparently hadn’t noticed my slip of the tongue. I continued. “But now we have to come up with a new strategy for Mr Keating. I’m not sure even Tim will manentanglement [int ŋlmənt] Gefühlsverwirrung to waver [weivə] flackern wick [wik] Docht to flounder [flaυndə] sich verhaspeln

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age to convince the jury without Somerfield’s testimony.” Chloe drummed her fingers on the coffee table. “And is Keating good-looking? You’ve been talking about him quite a lot recently.” Dangerous waters. I shook my head, dabbing my eyes with the Kleenex. “No, he’s not particularly good-looking. Average really. But has quite a good sense of humour. And ...” I couldn’t help smiling. “He seems to like the same things I do – opera, novels by Philip K. Dick, cooking ...” It was true – in the course of my interviews with him, Harry and I had been constantly stumbling over things we both had in common. It was quite uncanny. Chloe cocked her head to one side. “Hold on here, I’m getting mixed messages. Is he hot or not?” I blushed. “That’s beside the point. But I feel sorry for him. He’s lost his only witness.” “But she could still change her mind and testify for him?” “Yes. But it would be good to have more evidence in his favour.” Chloe thought for a minute, then her eyes lit up. She clapped her hands together joyfully. “Then why don’t I talk to Somerfield? I’m great at interviewing people. Nobody clams up on me. I’m sure I’ll find out if Mycroft is behind her sudden decision not to testify.” I was sceptical. “Do you really think so? I’d have to talk to Tim first. I’m not sure that he’d agree.” “And is she attractive? I mean, she could have been having an affair with Mycroft, or something. Maybe she was upset that he flew off to Cuba without her. But somehow he heard that she was going to testify and phoned her up. Maybe he uncanny [nk ni] unheimlich

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promised her that she could join him in Cuba if she didn’t testify?” I looked at Chloe in bemusement. “Are you making all this up as you go along, Sherlock? Boy, you have a wild imagination!” Chloe puffed on her cigarette. “Thanks, Watson. So, is this Somerfield woman attractive?” “Well, she’s just an ordinary fifty-something woman, not particularly ...” I bit my tongue. Chloe nudged me. “Come on – out with it!” I hesitated. “Well, I was going to say that she wasn’t particularly attractive. In fact, she’s a bit on the frumpy side.” Chloe looked disappointed. “Hmmm, I was hoping that she would be a bit of a femme fatale.” “And she was quite rude, but that is really besides the point.” “Rude?” “Yes, the first time I met her I called her Jeanette by mistake. She told me in no uncertain terms that her name was Janet and not Jeanette, but anyway it was Mrs Somerfield for me!” “Mmm – sounds like she does have a sharp tongue. How does her husband cope, I wonder?” Chloe was really in her element, firing questions at me as if I was one of the politicians who frequently came on her shows. “No, she isn’t married. She lives alone with her poodle.” Chloe rubbed her nose with her forefinger, something she did when she was hatching ideas for new T.V. formats. “A frumpy spinster with a pet poodle and a huge bank embezfrumpy [frmpi] altbacken to cope [kəυp] klarkommen to hatch sth. [h tʃ] etw. ausbrüten spinster [spinstə] alte Jungfer

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zlement scandal, eh? I smell a rat. Why don’t you leave it with me for a few days? Maybe I can get somebody to do a little digging around, some research. Maybe I can even flirt with her a bit!” “Do you think you can make a show out of this, or what?” Chloe looked thoughtful. “Maybe. Who knows? But at any rate, I think I will be able to get Mrs Somerfield to open up a bit.” Exercise 23: Complete these typical English idioms with the right noun. (crow, spring, path, spirit, rat, butterfly) 1.

I think this sounds suspicious. I smell a _____________.

2.

Somebody is leading her up the garden _____________.

3.

Charlie is a social _____________.

4.

I tried to get into the _____________ of things.

5.

You aren’t a _____________ chicken any more.

6.

I don’t have _____________’s feet.

“Chloe, I really appreciate the thought you are putting into this. But why are you going to all this trouble? It’s just a case.” Chloe shook her head. “It’s not just a case – it’s your case. Whether this case is successful or not could make or break your career.” She hesitated briefly. “And there’s another reason too.” I stared at her in bemusement. “And what would that be?” to smell a rat [smel ə r t] Lunte riechen

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Chloe got up slowly and sashayed over to the window. “Ruby, my darling. Isn’t it obvious? I think you have got a crush on Harry Keating. Yes, I did notice the name. And I wouldn’t want my best friend to liaise with a jailbird now, would I?” “Chloe,” I squealed. “You’re impossible. But even if I were attracted to Harry, which I’m not – well not much, at least – don’t you see how unethical it would be for me to enter into a relationship with him?” Chloe snorted. “Just listen to yourself talk – unethical, enter into a relationship – you sound like some Corporate Compliance Officer, and not like a woman in love.” “Well, I’m neither the one nor the other – so there! That’s why I didn’t tell you about it. I’m not really sure how I feel myself.” I said defiantly. Chloe pressed her lips together for a minute. Then she put her head to one side. “But what are best friends for? If you can’t talk to me about things like this, who can you talk to? Tim?” “Certainly not Tim. I think he’s lost all respect for me since he caught me with Harry.” Chloe shrieked. “Tell me everything!” So I filled Chloe on the whole unfortunate story. I told her about the romantic encounter with Harry and my inexplicable attraction to him. I also told her about the way Tim had reacted when he saw Harry and me embracing. “I’m sure Tim suspects me of having an affair with Harry.” “But he didn’t actually see you kiss him, did he? How did he react when he came into the office?” I tried to remember the details. “He just glared at me. Then he looked at Harry with a strange look on his face.” to sashay [s ʃei] tänzeln defiantly [difaiəntli] trotzig

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Chloe leant forward. “What kind of look?” I tried to re-evoke the scene. It had been the most embarrassing moment in my life, so it wasn’t hard. “I think ... when I think about it, he looked at Harry as if he was ...” “Yes, go on!” “Well, as if he was disappointed in him, for some reason.” “Mmm, that’s interesting.” Chloe puffed thoughtfully on her cigarette. I started longing for a smoke. “And I have agreed to go on a date with Harry.” Chloe looked at me in surprise. “Oh, you have, have you?” She thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you, Ruby. I’ll talk to Janet, so we’ll have more chance of uncovering a lead and getting your client Harry Keating off if you ...” She hesitated and her eyes turned a devious shade of green. “Promise me you’ll meet up with Bruce and at least three more whatever happens – test the waters so to say.” I stared past Chloe, through the flickering candlelight. “Okay, Chloe. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

to uncover a lead [nkvər ə lid] auf eine Spur stoßen

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Eleven Ruby’s diary I mustn’t let my feelings control me. I have to remember what it was like with Rick. It was the last day of our holiday in Tuscany when we met. It was evening time and the sun was just setting. I was sitting outside a restaurant with a couple of my friends when Rick popped up out of nowhere asking directions to the hotel we were staying in. We spent practically half the night talking and the other half making love. Up until that point I had never believed in fate or love at first sight or any of that nonsense. But this had just seemed so right ... Yes, it had felt right when Harry had kissed me, too, but could I ever trust my feelings again? “Pass the eggs, will you, please.” Chloe, who was buried deeply in a newspaper, merely grunted. “Chloe – can you pass the eggs, please? I’d get them myself only it still hurts when I bend over.” Exercise 24: Fill in the appropriate food words to complete Chloe’s and Ruby’s early morning meal. (rosemary, mushrooms, breakfast, cream, bacon, eggs, herb)

It was twelve p. m. and we were having a late, lazy Sunday 1.

_____________. Chloe had fried a few rashers of

2.

_____________, and some 3. _____________ sprinkled

to grunt [rnt] grummeln

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with tender green shoots of 4. _____________ from our small balcony 5. _____________ garden and rustled up some delicious golden scrambled 6. _____________ made with fresh whipped 7. _____________. “This is what the Germans call a ‘Katerfrühstück’,” she announced, passing me the small pan that still had a few scraps of scrambled egg clinging to its surface. “And what does that mean, if you don’t mind me asking? Cholesterol shock?” Chloe had returned to her newspaper. “What does what mean?” “Oh, nothing,” I replied, savouring the meal. We grew silent again, merrily chomping away at the full English breakfast. I sipped the black brew which I had lovingly made using my most prized possession – a shiny Italian espresso machine that had cost me an arm and a leg. The caffeine was slow to take effect though. What I most wanted to do was crawl back under my covers, like a slug into a head of lettuce. “Thanks for making breakfast, Chloe. I’ll do dinner for us this evening if you’re around.” Chloe grunted again. I pushed my chair back carefully and stood up gingerly. Chloe finally peeked out from behind The Guardian. “Oh, by the way, Tim called this morning.” I was taken aback. I’d never known Tim to call me up at the weekend. scrap [skr p] Rest to chomp away [tʃɒmp əwei] mampfen slug [sl] Nacktschnecke to peek out [pik aυt] hervorschauen

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“Tim? What did he want? Why didn’t you wake me?” Chloe yawned. “I tried, but you were sleeping like a log.” “So, what did he say? Why was he calling?” Chloe munched on a piece of toast and honey. “He ... uhm ... wanted to drop off a file here this ... this afternoon.” I blanched. “This afternoon. Like now?” Chloe looked around the kitchen hazily. “What time is it now? He said round about noon, I think.” “Noon!” I shrieked. “That’s now! It’s already ten past twelve.” Chloe shrugged her shoulders. Her blue dressing gown wrinkled up around her neck. “So what’s the big fuss? He just wants to drop something off. Something to do with the Keating case, I think. We can ask him what he thinks about my idea of talking to Somerfield.” I felt a wave of panic sweep through me. “I have to shower. He can’t see me like this.” I looked down at my own coffeeflecked nightdress. “It’s unprofessional.” I darted towards the bathroom but Chloe’s next words brought me screeching to a halt. “We chatted a bit. He’s quite friendly on the phone, isn’t he? And he asked whether I’d gone to the opera with you the other day.” “What did you tell him?” “The truth of course. I never go to operas. I can’t stand them.” “And so you didn’t tell him I’d spent the night on the sofa?” Chloe put down the newspaper and rubbed her eyes. “Well, of course not, Ruby. Who do you take me for?” I let my shoulders sag and smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks. And did he say anything else?” to blanch [blɑnʃ] blass werden to sag [s ] herabhängen

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“Well, is Tim a bit of a Philistine or something?” “No, he’s always visiting art galleries and stuff. Why do you ask?” “He thought the opera you’d gone to see was called Don Pedro. I might not like operas but my father dragged me to every one that has ever been produced. I told him there was no such opera.” As quickly as it had come, the sweet feeling of relief evaporated. “Oh no. You didn’t say that really, did you?” “Yes – but he was stubborn. He insisted that it was some post-modern rendition or something. I don’t know where he got the idea that you were into post-modernism. You’ve always told me you hated that sort of thing.” “I do,” I said awkwardly. Ding-dong. “Oh God, that’s the door. It’s him,” I hissed. Languidly, Chloe stood up. “Don’t worry, Ruby. I’ll handle it. He probably will just want to drop off the file, that’s all. If he wants to stay, I’ll take him to the living room and you can clean yourself up in the meantime. I’ll entertain him while we wait for you. Maybe put some Don Giovanni on or something.” She gave me a knowing wink. “Thanks, Chloe,” I whispered and dived into the bathroom praying that Tim would be a million miles away when I had finished getting dressed. The last thing I felt like doing was spending my precious Saturday afternoon holed up with Mr Wet Fish.

languidly [l ŋwidli] träge to hole up [həυl p] sich verkriechen

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Twelve It was the day the sun’s ray had turned pale with pity for the suffering of his Maker when I was caught, and I put up no fight, my lady, for your lovely eyes had bound me. (Petrach) Fifteen minutes later my toilette was complete. Freshly showered and ensconced in my slate-gray power suit I felt I had once again reclaimed a shred of professional dignity. I knew Tim had stayed because I could hear the muted buzz of conversation through the thin wall that separated my bedroom from our communal living room. Attempting to give the impression of one to whom style and authority came naturally, I sauntered into the living room, my high-heel shoes sinking deeply into the thick carpet pile. Momentarily I was dazzled by the sun’s rays which filtered into the room through the vast French windows. The kitchen and bathroom and our bedrooms were on the north side of the apartment but the large, airy living room had a southern exposure. When I managed to refocus my eyes, I was greeted by the sight of Chloe and Tim, crouched low down on the carpet, both on their hands and knees, rifling through a pile of film books. They were ignoring me. I might have been a fly on the wall. I cleared my throat and prepared to speak in a casual tone. “Hi there, Tim. Thanks for dropping by.” ensconced [inskɒnst] hier: verkleidet slate-gray [sleitrei] schiefergrau shred [ʃred] Stückchen to be dazzled [bi d zld] geblendet werden to crouch [kraυtʃ] kauern

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They ignored me. I coughed again. Still they didn’t look up. I coughed more loudly. Chloe looked up breezily. “Hi Ruby, there you are. Are you coming down with something nasty? Oh, did you know Tim is a film buff too? We’re trying to work out when Deborah Kerr made her first film.” Exercise 25: Connect these words to make common collocations which are part of modern lifestyles. Fill in the right letter. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

film social Living Apart text message pick-up online

… … … … … …

a. b. c. d. e. f.

artist break-up dating networking buff Together relationships

Tim scrambled to his feet. I hardly recognized him. He was wearing jeans and a simple white shirt open at the neck. He hadn’t put on his usual over-powering aftershave, but something with a much more subtle, herbal note. But it was the absence of any corporate body armour that most bemused me. I almost felt as if he were naked. I’d never ever seen him without a suit and certainly not without a garish tie. “Hi Ruby.” His eyes swept from the cherry shade of lipstick adorning my mouth down to my shiny, patent-leather stilettos and back up again. “Are you going out? Sorry, I didn’t want to intrude on you on a Saturday. I just thought breezily [brizili] lebhaft buff [bf] Fan to scramble [skr mbl] sich aufrappeln garish [eəriʃ] grell

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you should have a copy of the same file that I have so you’re well-prepared for our meeting on Monday. It’s got the latest report from the private detective on the activities of Mycroft ... and some other things.” He handed me a sepia file which I accepted without acknowledgement. I stared at the film books strewn all over the carpet. Tim coughed. “Chloe here was kind enough to indulge me in my hobby. I’m a great fan of pre 1950’s cinema.” He gave Chloe an adoring look. “If your father could get his hands on that Fritz Lang biography, I’d be really grateful.” Absurdly, I felt a pin-prick of jealousy. Not that I would ever fancy a guy like Tim, of course. Definitely not my type. But how come Chloe had managed to connect with him within minutes? Something I’d been trying to do for months and had finally given up as a lost cause. “So how was it?” Tim was asking me a question. Obviously, I had zoned out there for a minute. “Er, sorry, Tim. I was distracted. How was what?” “Don Pedro.” I felt myself flush. From out of the corner of my eye I could see Chloe rather unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smile. “Er ... Don Pedro ... it was ... er ...” My mind refused to get into gear. “Postponed. It was postponed.” This came from Chloe. Tim looked first at her then at me then at Chloe again. “Postponed?” “Yes,” my flatmate continued. “Yes, it was postponed. The performance had to be cancelled at the last minute. The lead to strew [stru] verstreuen pin-prick [pinprik] Stich

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singer Giorgio Clunirotti was unexpectedly questioned by the police. The suspicion was perjury, I think.” “Giorgio Clunirotti? The police are questioning him for suspected perjury?” Tim looked at me doubtfully. Again I could see Chloe watching me from the corner of my eye. She gave me a theatrical wink. “Yes, indeed. Lying under oath, so to say. But who am I to explain to two lawyers what perjury is?” Gratefully I seized on the straw Chloe had thrown me. “Yes, it was a great shame ... er ... artistically, but hey, these things happen, don’t they?” “Er ... right.” For a moment Tim looked like a kid out of his depth in a swimming pool. “Thanks for the file, Tim,” I said. He grabbed the lifeline. “Don’t mention it, Ruby. I think it makes interesting reading. Anyway, I suppose, I should be off now.” Exercise 26: Fill in “The Dating Game”-ABC. The number of letters in the missing word is indicated. 1.

N stands for _ _ _ _ – this is the name Ruby has given to Tim’s fish.

2.

O stands for _ _ _-liner – a short message you can send to a potential lover.

3.

P stands for _ _ _ _ _ station – the building housing the Tate Gallery was once one of these.

perjury [p d əri] Meineid

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4.

Q stands _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – Tim thinks the police are asking Giorgio Clunirotti lots of these.

5.

R stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – Ruby has dubbed the one in Tim’s front office Britney, although her real name is Shirley.

6.

T stands for _ _ _ _ message – this is how Rick broke up with Ruby.

He turned to Chloe. “So I’ll see you Thursday evening then.” Thursday evening? What was going on here? Chloe and I were going out to see an art-house movie on Thursday evening, something we had been looking forward to all month. “Yes, Thursday it is then, Tim. We are meeting at Pintelli’s for a drink before the film. Would you like to come along? You’d be most welcome.” “Sounds great. At about seven then?” Chloe started to get up off the carpet. “Don’t worry, girls. I’ll find my own way out.” Tim reached the door to the landing and before opening it he turned around briefly. “By the way, I love Chloe’s idea about talking to Janet Somerfield. I think we should definitely go for it. It might be our only chance to get Harry’s name cleared.” With a shy wave in Chloe’s direction, he left. Chloe turned to me, a huge grin on her face. “Nice man, Ruby. You never told me Tim was such an interesting guy.” “Interesting!” I spluttered. “Interesting! He’s a veritable landing [l ndiŋ] Flur veritable [veritəbl] wahr

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Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He’s never this charming at the office.” I paused briefly to think things over. A sudden insight struck me. “It’s probably because he’s got a crush on you, Chloe.” Chloe looked up at me genuinely amused. “I don’t think so, Ruby. He knows I’m gay.” “What? You’ve only just met him! How did you introduce yourself? ‘Hello, my name is Chloe and I just happen to be gay!’” Chloe refused to be provoked. “No, there was a photo of Sybil in one of the film books. It slipped out and he asked me who she was and I told him it was an ex-girlfriend. He stared at me for a moment and then simply put two and two together.” “What did he say?” Chloe smiled tenderly, remembering the moment. “He said, ‘What a coincidence. My sister Suzy happens to be gay too.’” “Tim’s got a sister! Why don’t I know this? I’ve worked with him for nine months, and you’ve got more information out of him in fifteen minutes than I’ve ever managed to get. Including the sexual orientation of his family.” Chloe fluttered her hands around carelessly. “Well, I don’t know if Patsy is gay yet, but thank you. It’s just a gift getting people to open up. I’ve learnt a few tricks. I used to audition actors for roles you know. They always started out totally nervous. Sometimes I told them that this wasn’t the real audition and just a get-to-know-you session. Then they didn’t feel under so much pressure to project a false personto have a crush on sb. [h v ə krʃ ɒn] in jdn. verknallt sein to audition sb. [ɔdiʃn] jdn. vorsprechen lassen

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ality. They could be more themselves. You’d be amazed at the things people tell me, Ruby.” I sniffed. “Well, your technique certainly worked wonders with Tim. You should have gone into psychotherapy. You would have made a great psychologist. But what’s this about Thursday? I don’t want Tim coming along to our film club. It’s the highlight of my week and I don’t want it spoilt.” Chloe gazed at me innocently. “What’s wrong with going out for a few drinks with your colleague every now and then? In Japan, it’s practically compulsory, you know!” “Japan! What does Japan have to do with any of this?” Chloe shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe nothing, maybe everything?” “Don’t go all Sphinx-like on me! You are just trying to confuse me.” I blinked back a tear. Damn it, what was wrong with me? It really must be that time of the month. I kept bursting into tears at all the wrong moments. Chloe folded her arms and looked at me solemnly. “You seem confused enough already, actually, without any help from me. What’s wrong, Ruby? Why are you putting yourself under such pressure? Is it something to do with Tim?” I nodded. “He just seems to ... intimidate me. I don’t know why. I thought I had him all sussed out. I thought he was just a wet fish – no feelings, no personality. But I might be mistaken. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m not such a good judge of character as I thought I was. No wonder I keep falling for guys like Rick.” “Rick the megalomaniac.” “Rick the pervert.” to suss out sb. [ss aυt] jdn. durchschauen

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“Rick the Very Successful Bank Director. Ha, ha. Why can’t men just be honest, that’s all? Why do they always have to lie?” Chloe looked up at me mischievously. “Don Pedro!” I blushed. “Well, that’s not a serious lie. Just a white lie.” Chloe grinned. “You’ve certainly got Tim, the hot shot barrister, the human lie-detector, believing you, you know. I saw it in his eyes.” “Seeing eyes!” I said morosely. “Seeing eyes? What do you mean?” I told Chloe briefly about Tim’s Aunt Patsy and how she believed she could always detect a lie. “There are people like that,” Chloe said seriously. “I once produced a show around that topic. We copied a German format called Lügen haben kurze Beine. Apparently, most people can’t tell when other people are lying. But a small minority, about 1 or 2 percent of the population can. It’s a rare gift. The very best of them work closely with the police on high-profile cases. We’re planning a second programme on the topic. Maybe I should get in touch with Aunt Patsy?” “Are you serious? You don’t know what you are letting yourself in for!” “Leave that to me. I’m good with maiden aunts. Maybe I can get both her and Janet Somerfield on a show together?” “Whatever. Let the world go mad but count me out!” I sank down onto the sofa and stared at the blank T.V. screen. After a few seconds I picked up the remote, pressed the green button and zapped skilfully through the channels. Chloe watched me in silence. “I’ll look up Janet on Friday. I’ll give you a call from the studio to let you know how things went. I’ve got to be there for the pick-up artist show.” 106

“Hmm,” I said distractedly. I’d found an afternoon quiz show on with a host I particularly liked. “Aren’t you a bit overdressed for daytime T.V.?” I kicked off my high heels and loosened my blazer. “Not any more.” Chloe looked at me, her forehead wrinkled in thought. “Does it really bother you that Tim is coming on Thursday?” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. “Che sera, sera.” Chloe screwed her eyebrows together and seemed to come to a decision. “You do realize, don’t you?” I tore my eyes away from the screen and stared at her uncomprehendingly. “What are you talking about?” Chloe straightened the cushion and flicked off some imaginary specks of dust. “Well, a man who wears pink ties with golden dots, a man who loves art galleries, a man who is into Deborah Kerr, Fritz Lang and art-house. Isn’t it obvious?” Chloe tossed the cushion carelessly behind her and settled back. I felt her eyes bore into mine. “You don’t mean that Tim is ...” Chloe put a hand behind her back to plump up her cushion. “Yes, Tim might still be in the closet, but he is gay!” She sank back into her cushion, knowing that I would need a few moments to absorb this profound truth.

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Thirteen Ruby’s diary I don’t know what it is about dating that makes a woman go crazy. A week ago I couldn’t have cared less if my hair was less than tidy or if my legs were less than 100 percent hairless. Suddenly, the day before my date with the unknown Bruce, I feel the need to buy all manner of new shampoos and miracle conditioners. I’ve decided that I’m definitely not going to meet up with Harry. I’m just not sure how to formulate the text message yet. I’ll come up with something. Who knows? Maybe this Bruce guy will be a real dish! Maybe he’ll take my mind off Harry. I know I’ll probably spend hours in the bathroom tomorrow making sure not a single unwanted hair has survived anywhere on my body. I’ll probably be totally exhausted even before I set foot out of the flat for the date. Vanity, thy name is Ruby Mank! I arrived at The Bonze in Kensington fashionably late, precisely five minutes after six. I had had quite an easy Monday – Tim had ended up cancelling our strategy meeting because a High Court judge had insisted on seeing him about another client Monday morning. I had spent yesterday daydreaming about today ... It had taken me a while to decide what clothes to put on. In the end what I had chosen was a classic black hip-hugging dress. I complemented it with a dab of make-up and a whiff of fruity perfume and I was ready. dish [diʃ] Leckerbissen hip-hugging dress [hiphiŋ dres] Hüftkleid

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Exercise 27: Ruby feels she’s coming alive at last. Fill in the blanks with the words for animals, plants, vegetables or fruit. (butterflies, trees, pumpkins, banana, horses, bat)

I had Chloe’s 1. ______________-yellow designer handbag slung carelessly over my shoulder and I felt ready to meet the mysterious Bruce Wayne, the man who would be carrying a pink F.T. and wearing 2. ______________-shaped cufflinks. I peered through the window of the bar looking for a likely candidate. But my view was obstructed by a number of Bonsai 3. ______________ carefully placed at strategic angles on the window sill. There were also a few of those typically Japanese Kabocha 4. ______________ that glowed like orange light bulbs. And there were rows of brightly coloured paper lanterns draped from one end of the restaurant to the other. I felt nervous. It was my first real date in more than twelve months. Hordes of 5. ______________ were fluttering in my stomach and my knees were already wobbling, but wild 6. ______________ couldn’t tear me away. I was thrilled to have broken the curse Rick had put on me. I was finally dating again. Get a hold of yourself, girl, I admonished myself. I felt totally conspicuous. The neon yellow of Chloe’s handbag glowed like 109

radioactive waste. Maybe, I thought, it would be more strategic to cover the handbag with my jacket until I had had a chance to reconnoitre the room. Hurriedly I took my jacket off and wrapped it casually over the handbag until it was completely hidden. I was incognito. Nervously I pushed the door open and looked around. The place was almost full but there was nobody there carrying a Financial Times, or any other newspaper come to that. I sat on a bar stool at the counter and ordered a small glass of sake. I browsed the menu. As well as the usual sushi and sashimi they offered fresh soybeans boiled in the pod; fresh tuna tartare, daubed with wasabi and topped with black caviar; fluke carpaccio served with tiny fiery red pepper and leaves of fresh coriander. Yum. It all sounded delicious and I felt my tummy rumbling. It took about five minutes for the waiter to bring my order, so in the meantime I scanned the room carefully. Still nobody in sight carrying a pink newspaper. A handsome-looking man in his mid-thirties entered the bar. For a moment my heart beat wildly. He was quite a catch. But I noticed he had his super-model wife in tow. I scanned the room again and noted a curious fact. Most of the customers appeared to be female, and, surprisingly, quite a few of them owned yellow handbags. Chloe was right: Yellow was the new black! After waiting another ten minutes, I ground my teeth, paid, and finished the last of my sake. I strode out – there was no way I was going to wait any longer for Bruce Whatshisname! I would meet Harry instead, professional relations be damned! I had been meaning to cancel the to reconnoitre sth. [rekənɔitə] etw. auskundschaften tuna tartare [tjunə tɑtə] Thunfischtartar daubed [dɔbd] bestrichen fluke carpaccio [fluk kɑp tʃiəυ] Flunder-Carpaccio in tow [in təυ] im Schlepptau

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date but, luckily, something had made me dither. Thanks to Bruce’s flakiness, I had about two-and-a half hours to kill. I was walking past a cinema and noticed a film was due to start. The plot didn’t interest me in the least, and I hadn’t heard of any of the actors, but anything was better than aimlessly strolling around London. The film was called the Scent of Figs, an intensely painful tale of a family who had lost everything during a civil war that was tearing their tiny Balkan country apart. Being stood up by a complete stranger had hurt my pride, and witnessing the tragedy of this family’s loss unfold, although I was safely ensconced in a cosy velvet aisle seat, made me feel desperate and powerless. I left the cinema in a state of existential angst. Not the right mood for a date, that’s for sure. Outside the cinema I flagged down a taxi and told the cabbie to take me to Club Zero. On the way there a thought struck me. I got out my BlackBerry and checked for emails. Oh horror, there was one there from someone calling himself Leonard Higgens. That could only be Leo! I decided to open that one later – much later. I scanned the rest of my new entries. Sure enough there was one from Bruce Wayne. I clicked it open. Hi Cio-Cio-San, Sorry for standing you up this evening. A member of my family was suddenly taken ill. Please let me make it up to you. How about meeting for dinner at Le Patois in Chelsea? It’s on me. Yours remorsefully, Bruce Wayne to dither [diðə] zögern flakiness [fleikinəs] Unzuverlässigkeit to stand sb. up [st nd / p] jdn. versetzen to flag down a taxi [fl  daυn ə t ksi] ein Taxi anhalten

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What was I to make of that? My first impulse was to delete the message and kick Bruce Wayne out of my contact file. But on the other hand Le Patois was known for its tremendous food. Mmm – I decided to sleep on it, but, for now, I was going to enjoy my evening with Harry. The taxi came to a stop, I paid and got out. I heard a dull thump-thump rhythm emanating from the night-club and imagined the commotion inside. I froze. Did I really want to go through with this? I looked up at the cloudless canopy of stars arching over London. This is wrong. There’s no way I am going to start anything with a client. For a moment I thought of just going in briefly and explaining the situation to him. I was sure he would understand. But I didn’t trust myself. Once I was in his presence, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. It was better to text him a message and leave it at that. Once we’d won the case for him, well, then things might work out differently. I tore my eyes from the heavens and quickly typed a short message into my BlackBerry. Hi Harry, I’m terribly sorry but I’ve changed my mind. I think it is inappropriate for us to see each other privately at this time. Sorry if I’ve messed up your evening. Best Wishes, Ruby Then, feeling totally alone in the world, I turned around and hailed a taxi to take me home.

to emanate from sth. [eməneit frəm] von etw. ausgehen

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Fourteen Ode 314 Those who don’t feel this Love pulling them like a river, those who don’t drink dawn like a cup of spring water or take in sunset like supper, those who don’t want to change, let them sleep. (Rumi) It was Wednesday evening and I had just made myself an omelette. I had spent the whole day working from home – something I usually love doing because it means I can spend the whole day slouching around in my dressing gown. But today I knew I had been doing it just to take my mind of last night’s debacle. I went into the living room and studied Harry’s orchids. They were beautiful, but I picked up the vase and carried it into the kitchen. I gritted my teeth, then I took the orchids out of the vase and threw them into the bin. I had to remove all traces of Harry. It was as if I had become addicted to him. I was going to turn on the computer in the living room to check my emails and maybe give Bruce Wayne one last chance, but first I wanted to eat something. Chloe, unfortunately, wasn’t coming home for dinner, anyway. She had been gone all day, working on the pick-up artist project. to slouch around [slaυtʃ əraυnd] herumlümmeln to grit one’s teeth [rit wnz tiθ] die Zähne zusammenbeißen

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But suddenly there was a knock at the door, and I opened it, thinking Chloe had forgotten her key again. “Ruby? Can I talk to you for a moment?” Tim looked terrible – totally dishevelled, his face pale, with blue shadows under his eyes. “Tim, I wasn’t expecting you. I’m not really dressed for a meeting ...” “Ruby, I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.” Tim’s voice was wobbling a bit. I had a sudden suspicion. “Tim, you haven’t been drinking, have you?” Exercise 28: Make sentences in the Present Perfect Progressive using the prompts given. The first sentence has been done for you. 1.

Ruby can smell alcohol on Tim’s breath. Tim (to drink) has been drinking.

2.

There are lots of messages in Ruby’s in-tray. Many men (to look at) __________________ her profile.

3.

Ruby is confused. Harry (to flirt) __________________ with her for a while now.

4.

Ruby is exhausted. She (to work) __________________ a lot recently.

5.

Tim gave Ruby a file. The private detective he hired (to investigate) __________________ Mycroft.

dishevelled [diʃevld] zerzaust

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Tim blushed. “I’ve just had a few beers. Can I come in?” I knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so I showed him into the living room and told him I’d be right back. There was no way I was going to talk to Tim in my dressing gown, so I went into the bedroom and slipped into some slacks, put a pullover on, tidied up my hair and put on a dash of lipstick. Then I went back to the living room. Tim was sitting on the sofa looking even more dazed then when I had left him five minutes ago. “What’s wrong, Tim?” I said, moving Chloe’s handbag out of the way so that I could sit next to him. He looked so lost that I even reached out and grabbed his hand. Since he was gay, I knew he wouldn’t interpret this gesture in any sexual fashion so I could relax. Tim stared at me. “Can I have a drink?” Oh God, he’s become an alcoholic. “Sure, Tim. How about some wine?” “Wine sounds great.” I got up and fetched a bottle from the fridge. I poured out two glasses and sat down next to him again. “So don’t keep me in suspense. What’s up?” Tim took a sip of his wine. “It’s about Harry ... Can we talk? Have you read that file yet?” I wasn’t about to admit that I had somehow misplaced the file. “No, sorry. I had rather a hectic night ... I mean I’ve had a hectic day.” “Me too.” Tim looked crestfallen. He took another gulp of wine. “You know I told you I had hired a private investigator to research Mycroft’s whereabouts. Well, in the course of his investigations, he has turned up exactly nothing in crestfallen [krestfɔlən] niedergeschlagen gulp [lp] Schluck

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terms of Cuba. He checked all the airports and airlines, even ferries out of the country, in case Mycroft flew there from a European city. But nothing. It seems as if Mycroft has disappeared into thin air.” “This is bad news. If we can’t trace Mycroft, it is going to be really hard to convince the jury that Harry is innocent.” “Mmm ...” Tim gave me a strange look. “You really like Harry a lot, don’t you?” I shrank away from him. “What is that supposed to mean? There’s nothing between us.” Tim sounded irritated. “I never said there was.” “Do you really think I would compromise a professional relationship and date a client? What you saw in the office was a ... well, it will never happen again, okay?” “Your private life is your own!” He said these words sharply. “All I’m saying is ... read the file and be careful.” The scales fell from my eyes and I realized the truth, the real reason why Tim had been behaving so strangely recently. That was the only logical explanation. That was the reason why he always acted in a hostile fashion when the three of us were together. He was jealous. I saw that now. Tim must fancy Harry! That’s why he had blushed when Harry had offered to take one of us or both of us with him on a holiday on Crete. Poor Tim. I felt sorry for him. I knew from my own experience how it feels to have one’s feelings unreciprocated. I moved closer to Tim again and spontaneously gave him a hug. He seemed to relax for a minute and his face softened. “You’ll get Harry off. I’m sure of it,” I said, trying to comThe scales fell from my eyes. [ðə skeilz fel frɒm mai aiz] Es fiel mir wie Schuppen von den Augen. unreciprocated [nrisiprəkeitid] unerwidert

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fort him. His body stiffened. I loosened my embrace, and he looked away. “So you really haven’t looked at that file I gave you yet?” Why was he always asking me about the file? Maybe he was feeling embarrassed and just trying to change the subject. Why shouldn’t I just go along with him? “Not yet, Tim. Why do you ask?” Tim shuffled his feet. “It’s just that I think it might prove itself useful to you, that’s all. And I don’t want to see you getting hurt. I think you should know about P.U.A.s.” There was that mysterious abbreviation again. I really would have to look it up somewhere on the Internet. He got up abruptly. “I have to go now. Thanks for hearing me out. I’m sorry for bursting in here like this. I don’t know what came over me.” He started walking to the door. “That’s okay, Tim. Any time. By the way, are you still coming to the film night tomorrow night?” “Sure. See you and Chloe at seven at the restaurant then.” And he flew through the door like a bat out of hell. I went back to the kitchen just in time to see my omelette burning a hole in the pan. I tried to scrape it off but gave up in exasperation. Instead, I went back again into the living room to check my mails. There was just one. It was from Bruce Wayne. Another begging email asking me to go out with him to Le Patois. I thought it was strange that Harry still hadn’t replied to my text message. Maybe I had really hurt his feelings by standing him up like that. I decided to send him an email telling him about Chloe’s idea to interview Janet Somerfield. I wasn’t sure whether Tim had told him or not. I quickly wrote it and sent it off. And then, frustrated that I had no string of impatient suitors wanting to meet me, I fired off a message to Bruce. 117

Hi Bruce, I’m sorry I was a bit rude to you in my last text message. Okay – I will give you a second chance. Le Patois it is then. How about Friday evening at 8 p.m.? Cheers The next morning I didn’t see Chloe – she was sleeping in, no doubt after a hard day at the studio. I spent most of the day working on cases unrelated to Harry and got home at six o’clock in the evening. I hadn’t seen Tim today because I had been working with other barristers, so I had no idea how he was feeling. Probably very hung over and very embarrassed, I imagined. I knew we were going to eat out soon, but I was ravenous and found an orphaned spring roll with remnants of a Chinese rice and assorted vegetables in the fridge. One of Chloe’s unfinished dinners. I took it out. It still smelt okay. I heated it up in the microwave, took out a pair of chopsticks and carried it on a plate to the living room. Before starting to eat, I checked my emails once again. There was one from Harry! I opened it quickly. Dear Ruby, Of course I’m not annoyed at you for cancelling our date. I think we both have a very special relationship and you’re right – we should give ourselves time ... Had I really said that to him? I didn’t remember.

ravenous [r vənəs] ausgehungert assorted vegetables [əsɔtid ved təblz] gemischtes Gemüse

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But I will be at Club Zero tomorrow too ... As for the other matter – I am really grateful to your friend Chloe, but tell her not to bother on my account. I don’t want anyone to put Janey under pressure. It might not be necessary anyway. A colleague of mine called Annabel called me the other day. She said that she had also noticed that Mycroft had been behaving suspiciously. I asked her to call Tim and tell him what she knows. Your true friend, Harry Keating I was touched that he had accepted my brush-off so sensitively. It was flattering, too, that he had hinted that he still wanted to meet me. But the thing that impressed me most was that he was so concerned about Janet Somerfield’s feelings, even though his own future was at stake. I had no such qualms. Janet Somerfield had struck me as a rather unreasonable person. She had seemed nervous during the initial interview Tim and I had conducted with her. The more I thought about it, the more I thought getting Chloe to interview Somerfield was a good idea. It was great news that somebody else, some Annabel, was now also prepared to come forward. Smiling, I turned to the next email. It was from Bruce Wayne. Dear C-C-San, Thanks for giving me a second chance. I know I don’t deserve it. I’ll try to explain everything to you tomorrow. Best Wishes, Bruce Wayne PS: This is not my real name, but I suppose C-C-San isn’t your real name either! brush-off [brʃɒf] Abfuhr qualm [kwɑm] Skrupel

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Okay – so Bruce Wayne might unmask himself tomorrow. Well, I’m going to make sure I enjoy the meal whatever happens! I switched off the computer, returned to the sofa, picked up my chopsticks and carried my plate into our tiny kitchen. Exercise 29: Are the following statements true or false? Mark the correct sentences. 1. … 2. … 3. … 4. … 5. … 6. …

Harry was disgruntled because Ruby gave him the brush-off. Harry has found someone else who might be willing to testify. Ruby has a string of impatient suitors waiting to meet her. Ruby has decided to give Bruce the brush-off. Ruby is touched by Harry’s email. Mrs Somerfield strikes Ruby as a reasonable woman.

Just as I was about to dig in, Chloe got back and strode in, briefcase in hand, looking like the cat who had swallowed the canary. “Guess what, Rube!” “What?” I was in no mood for guessing games. Being stood up by Bruce and now deciding to meet up with him anyway, chickening out of my date with Harry and experiencing the strange scene with Tim last night had left me feeling disoriented. “Well, I’ve managed to make contact with Mrs Somerfield.” “How did you manage to pull that off?” Chloe shrugged her shoulders modestly. to pull sth. off [pυl / ɒf] etw. zustande bringen

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“I called her up and said that I was interested in doing a show about smart pets. She sounded interested and said I should call her back this evening,” Chloe checked her watch, “just about now, in fact.” She stuck her hand into her handbag and pulled out her mobile. “That’s great, Chloe. But Harry thinks you shouldn’t bother on his account. He doesn’t want anyone putting Janey, as he calls her, under pressure.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “Doesn’t he now? Janey, eh? Well, it’s too late for that. I promised her I’d call her and I never break my word.” She clicked through her contact list and pressed a button. “Well, Harry doesn’t want you to do that. As his solicitor, I have to respect his wishes.” “Ruby! You know I’ll handle things sensitively. And you do want to help your client, don’t you?” She was right. I did want to help Harry, but at the same time I couldn’t just ignore his wishes! What should I do? Chloe seemed to understand my quandary. She pressed another button on her mobile and I could hear the dialling tone. “You can listen in on the conversation ... Oh, hello, Mrs Somerfield. This is Chloe Fandré calling you back.” “Oh ... hello, Ms Fandré. It was about Sir Winston, wasn’t it?” Janet Somerfield sounded excited. “You want him to appear on T.V.?” Chloe coughed. “Yes, Mrs Somerfield. That is certainly a possibility. We are planning a programme called, ‘Is my dog a genius?’ We want to feature special dogs together with their masters and mistresses.” quandary [kwɒndəri] Dilemma

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“Oh, that sounds very exciting. Sir Winston would be thrilled to appear on T.V. But there’s one thing I don’t understand.” A note of suspicion crept into Mrs Somerfield’s voice. “How did you get my number?” “Oh, I happen to know Ms Mank, Mr Fielding’s solicitor. She mentioned how smart your poodle was.” “Mmm ...” Janet Somerfield didn’t exactly seem convinced. “But I’ve only met her once. She didn’t appear to notice him at all. In fact she nearly stepped on him!” I shook my head violently and mouthed silently to Chloe, “That’s not true!” Chloe had to repress a giggle. “But Sir Winston certainly did make an impression on her. She told me all about him and as I am currently working on a new show concept. I asked her to give me your number. I hope you don’t mind.” “Not at all. In fact, I’m delighted. When will the show be on?” “Well, first of all, I’d like to pay you a visit and meet Sir Winston for myself, if that’s all right with you?” “That’s fine. I’m off work at the moment due to ... well, never mind. So when would you like to come, Ms Fandré?” “Well, as soon as possible really. How about tomorrow?” “Tomorrow? Okay, tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock would suit me.” “Tomorrow at four then. I’m looking forward to meeting you both.” Chloe clicked a button and put her mobile away. I looked at her doubtfully. “Okay, Ruby. You told me not to, so you kept your promise to Harry. I understand. But I will be careful and I think it’s worth it if we can help him.” I thought of Harry and how decently he was behaving. Why should I protect Janet Somerfield? 122

“Oh, Chloe, to be honest, I don’t see the harm. Just as long as you don’t stir anything up ...” “I will be Miss Sensitivity!” “And are you really planning to put on a show about dogs?” Chloe laughed. “Well, why not? The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. A friend of mine has a dog called Chrissie that can perform the most amazing tricks. I could get her on the show too.” A thought struck me. “Only ...” “Yes?” “It’s just occurred to me that ... well, it’s a wild idea but what if Mycroft were hiding there in her apartment? When Tim tried to interview her, she wouldn’t let him in and her poodle was yapping furiously. Just take care, will you. From what I’ve read, Mycroft is a ruthless character.” Chloe nodded solemnly. “Thanks for the tip-off. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of myself.” “By the way, Chloe, talking about Mycroft. Have you seen the file that Tim gave me to look at? I seem to have misplaced it.” Did I imagine it or did she look at me shiftily for a moment. “Uhm ... I think I saw something sticking out from under the sofa. I’ll check.” Chloe darted into the living room and returned a short time later, file in hand. “Here you are.” “Thanks.” I took the file, put it on the window sill and wiped my mouth with a serviette. “The reason I asked about the file is ... well, you’ll never guess who came here yesterday evening drunk as a rat!” tip-off [tipɒf] Warnung

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Chloe looked at me with interest. “Rick? Sybil? Crawling back to us on all fours?” “Nah – thank goodness. No, it was Tim.” Chloe looked at me wide-eyed. “Tim! Maybe he fancies you!” I was puzzled. “What do you mean? It’s not exactly like he could fancy me, is it?” “Why not? Oh, you mean ...” Her voice trailed off. “Well, Tim is gay, after all. In fact,” I lowered my voice conspiratorially, even though, of course, there was nobody else within earshot, “in fact, I think he fancies Harry.” Now it was Chloe’s turn to drop something. Her briefcase, still in her hand, slid from her grip and landed with a thump on the carpet. “You think Tim fancies Harry!” “I’m convinced that this can be the only explanation for his strange behaviour here last night. But I’m afraid, I can’t be sure, of course, that Harry is perfectly straight.” “Tim was here last night?” Chloe sat down. “Now I’m really confused. Tell me everything.” I described the ‘rendezvous’ to her and told her that Tim had seemed very upset and confused. She asked me to repeat the details over and over again and wouldn’t stop asking me questions until she had squeezed every last bit of information out of me. “Do you think he’s a closet alcoholic, Chloe?” Chloe looked around the room frowning. Her eyes lit on the sofa. She got up and picked up a small book that had got wedged between the side upholstery and the seat cover. “What’s this?” she asked, holding it up. The book had a picture of Batmobile on its front cover. side upholstery [said phəυlstəri] Seitenpolster

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“Oh, that’s Tim’s diary. He must have dropped it here last night because he’d had too much to drink. I suppose it would be unethical to take a peek?” I said with a giggle. Slowly she nodded her head. “Taking a peek at things that are none of your business is a bit unethical. I’m trying to rid myself of the habit. Uhm, Ruby, I have a little confession to make. It was only for your own good but I think things have gone too far now ...” Ding-dong. Chloe jumped up. “Oh, that must be Tim. I told him to come here first to pick us up.” I was annoyed. “What? Why does he have to come here? When did you tell him that?” “I phoned him. He gave me his mobile phone number when he was here the other day. I’ll just go and let him in and give him his diary back before you get a chance to stick your nose into it.” Exercise 30: Underline the most appropriate word for the context.

I hastily 1. (ridded myself/got rid of) all traces of the 2. (winter/spring) roll and rice and tried to 3. (clear/mess) up the kitchen a bit. I wondered what 4. (suit/mood) Tim would be in today. We hadn’t talked at all since our strange 5. (rendezvous/encounter) last night. A moment later Tim came into the room carrying a huge 6. (branch/bunch) of zinnias – the colours all clashed terribly of course, both with his hair and with each other! It didn’t help that Tim’s face was beetroot-red.

to take a peek [teik ə pik] kurz reinschauen zinnia [ziniə] Zinnie

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“Ruby, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about last night. I feel really embarrassed.” I tried to strike a casual pose by leaning against the little wooden table but it started to wobble alarmingly, so I stood up straight again. It didn’t matter. I felt more relaxed in Tim’s presence now. It was actually quite nice to see the mensch inside the suit, as my grandfather would have said. “It’s okay, Tim, no problem. Forget it.” Chloe smiled at both of us, took the flowers off me and put them in a vase, shooing Tim out of the kitchen before he could say a more word. “I’ll just open some champagne. We always have a glass before we go out to the cinema.” Tim nodded as he disappeared into the living room. What was she talking about? We never drank champagne beforehand. “Why are you opening the bubbly? Is this some sort of celebration, or what? Have I missed something?” “Just go to the living room and keep Tim company. I will be with you in a sec!” I went to the living room. To my horror the Loveboat page with the reply from Bruce Wayne was still glimmering on the computer screen. The computer hadn’t shut itself down properly. I prayed that Tim hadn’t seen it. He was staring out of the window with his back to me. I coughed, but he didn’t turn around. I coughed a bit more loudly. This time he did. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Tim.” “Ghost? Did I hear ‘ghost’? Are you talking about the film without me?” to shoo sb. out [ʃu / aυt] jdn. rausscheuchen

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Chloe had swept into the room bearing a tray aloft with three flutes of champagne. “Here we go. Let’s drink to ourselves and this evening. The film we are going to see is an Italian production called Ghost of Mussolini. It’s about the dictates of love and the future of humankind. Not exactly light entertainment, I know, but we can all come back here afterwards and watch Sex and the City as an antidote if you like.” Tim didn’t appear to be listening to Chloe. He was looking at me strangely. But suddenly he gave me a smile. I couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked with his lop-sided grin. And before I could stop it (it was probably the effect of the champagne) an uninvited thought wormed its way into my consciousness. What a shame that Tim is gay.

lop-sided [lɒpsaidid] schief

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Fifteen Ruby’s Diary It was a wonderful night – I have never laughed so much in my life. Tim has a very dry sense of humour and when he laughs his whole face lights up. After watching the film we all came back here and Chloe made nachos. Then we watched reruns of Sex and the City. You can’t get many heteros to do that. I guess it’s true what they say – after a certain time the good men are all either married or gay! Mother called today. I couldn’t resist. I told her I had a date of my own at Le Patois. She was over the moon. When I told her his name, she said it sounded familiar. Oh God, imagine if Bruce Wayne also turns out to have been dating my mother! It was Friday night at last and I was on my way to Le Patois in a taxi when Chloe called me on my mobile phone. “Ruby, I’ve got a confession to make.” I remembered that she had said something similar just before Tim had arrived on our film night. “Chloe, can’t it wait?” I peered out of the window and saw an elegantly lit restaurant come up on the left. “Chloe, we are at Le Patois. ‘Famous for its garlic snails, this restaurant, three Michelin stars and counting, is easily the best French eatery in Chelsea’ – that’s a quote from a magazine, by the way. I have no time to listen to confessions now. Please stop here, cabbie ... Chloe, this is my first Internet date – remember, the one you talked me into. So don’t make me late.” rerun [rirn] Wiederholung over the moon [əυvə ðə mun] überglücklich

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With the phone wedged firmly to my ear, I paid the taxi driver and struggled to get out of the cab – not easy in a tight dress and high heels. I was wearing the same outfit, the black dress that I had been wearing for the previous date – following the principle that lightning can’t strike twice in the same place. “Ruby, this can’t wait!” “Chloe,” I hissed, “I’m here now. Can’t your confession wait until tomorrow?” “No! Remember that I told you that Tim was gay? Well ...” “Well what?” I was standing just outside the restaurant now, ready to go in. “Well, he isn’t!” “What do you mean, he isn’t?” “Well, he’s straight. That day looking at the film books he told me all about his ex-girlfriend and how upset he had been when she had broken up. I just told you he was gay to get you to relax a bit in his presence. You told me you found him intimidating ...” She sounded apologetic. “Chloe,” I spluttered. “How could you lie to me like that! And why are you telling me now?” The doorman standing outside the door of Le Patois regarded me curiously. “Chloe!” I covered up the telephone with my hand and lowered my voice, so that the doorman wouldn’t hear me. “Chloe, I know why you are telling me this now. Because you know I’m too far away to strangle you!” “Well, no – that’s actually not the reason, Ruby.” Chloe was spluttering in the background. My mood softened. “Chloe – now don’t cry. I’m not that angry with you. In fact, actually, I’m quite glad that Tim isn’t gay ...” Chloe spluttered again. Only then did I realize that the spluttering wasn’t the sound of her sobbing – it was 129

the sound of her giggling. “Chloe – I’m going to end this call now,” I said indignantly. “No, Ruby, stop. I’m in the studio. We are preparing for the show with the feature on pick-up artists. It is about to start. I talked to Janet Somerfield and she wants to meet up with you, Tim and Harry at Tim’s office tomorrow – even though it’s Saturday. But you’re not to mention to Harry that she’s coming. She wants to ... uhm ... surprise him.” “Okay, that sounds promising. Can we talk later, though, please? This is not a good time.” Exercise 31: Fill in the blanks with an appropriate preposition. (at, about, of, into, for, towards)

I had already turned 1. _______________ the restaurant. The doorman opened the door 2. _______________ me and I walked 3. _______________ the delicate Parisian atmosphere 4. _______________ Le Patois. French waiters glided 5. _______________ the room as if suspended from the ceiling by invisible strings. “Don’t hang up yet. Please. There’s something else you must know.” “I’ll give you ten seconds, Chloe. Then I’m hanging up. I’m sure Bruce Wayne is already here. He sent me another email and said he’d be waiting 6. ________________ table four.” 130

“That’s the other thing I wanted you to know, Ruby. I finally remembered where I had heard the name Bruce Wayne before. It’s from a film.” Chloe was starting to get on my nerves. Okay, the news about Tim’s sexuality wasn’t entirely unwelcome although I thought it was a cheek that she lied to me. But wasting my time with film factoids was something else! I scanned the room trying to guess which table was number four and which of the guests might be Bruce Wayne. “Three seconds,” I hissed into the telephone. “Okay – Bruce Wayne is Batman’s real name ...” My fingers were clenched, ready to snap the mobile phone together and cut off the connection, but my hand froze. It was as if different pieces of a jigsaw puzzle were assembling themselves in my mind. The Batman and Robin poster ... the bat cufflinks ... Bruce Wayne ... “Batman? So you mean, you think ...” Suddenly Tim Evans was standing in front of me holding out his hand to take mine. “Hi, Cio-Cio-San. Pleased to meet you at last. That table over there is number four, and my name is Bruce Wayne, as you’ve probably already guessed.” I must admit that I was in a bit of a daze when I sat down with Tim at an immaculately decorated table in the corner of the restaurant. Thoughts were whizzing through my mind like superheroes. Tim Evans was Batman – I mean Bruce Wayne. And the masked crusader, I mean the unmasked crusader, wasn’t gay! I tried to gather together some remnants of dignity. factoid [f ktɔid] Plattitüde immaculately [im kjələtli] perfekt to whizz [wiz] schwirren masked crusader [maskt kruseidə] Batman

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“So, Batman, why did you stand me up at The Bonze?” Tim beckoned the waiter over. “Why don’t we order first, Madame Butterfly, and then I promise that I will explain everything to you.” So we ordered à la carte – Onion soup, Duck à l’Orange and Chocolate Mousse for me, and the same for Tim, except for poached salmon as a main course. The delicious aroma of the fine French cuisine made me feel more charitable towards Tim, and I told myself to relax and hear him out. He had signed up for Loveboat a week ago, egged on by his Aunt Patsy, who was apparently also a Loveboat devotee. We discovered that we had both had a similar scepticism towards Internet dating. We clinked glasses and drank to the old-fashioned times when dating didn’t need any technology more advanced than a pen and paper and some imagination. Tim went on to tell me that he had come across my profile and because he was such an opera buff he had immediately been attracted to my pen name Cio-Cio-San. I told him that I had no idea that Bruce Wayne was Batman’s true name, and even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have made the connection to him. The waiter brought our onion soup which was topped with crispy, light-brown croutons. It tasted simply fabulous. Tim explained that he had arrived at The Bonze fifteen minutes early and had been totally confused to see so many women carrying bright yellow handbags. “I had no idea which one Cio-Cio-San was. I had been expecting an Asian-looking-woman and none of them there to beckon sb. over [bekən / əυvə] jdn. herbeiwinken to egg sb. on [e / ɒn] jdn. anstacheln devotee [devəυti] Fan

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were. But nearly everyone seemed to be carrying a yellow handbag.” Tim gave me that lop-sided grin again. He then described how he had seen me come in. He had thought Oh, hell! and had dashed into the men’s toilet, F.T. in hand, to ponder his further strategy. As he hadn’t seen me with a yellow handbag, he didn’t for one minute suspect that I was Cio-Cio-San. He had just thought that it was a strange coincidence. By the time he had calmed himself down and come out again, I had already disappeared. Tim had gone home miserable, not knowing if his date had been there or not while he had been in the men’s room. That night and the following one, he had tried to drown his embarrassment and self-pity in beer. I mopped up the remains of my soup with a chunk of crisp baguette. “But why didn’t you just speak to me, Tim?” Tim looked at me sheepishly and breathed in deeply. “Ruby, I’ve been shy around you ever since I first met you. You seemed so unapproachable, somehow.” “That’s strange,” I said thoughtfully. “Those are almost exactly the same words I used to Chloe about you. And then she told me I could seem unapproachable too.” I laughed softly and Tim looked at me in relief. “I’m glad I’ve got all this off my chest. It’s been weighing me down.” This was some confession coming from Tim, a man I’d previously credited with the emotions of a fish! The waiters brought a luscious Duck à l’Orange to the table and an equally interesting looking fish for Tim, garnished lovingly with parsley and a twist of lemon. We started eating. I paused between mouthfuls of duck for a moment and looked at Tim munching on his fish. “Well, to mop up sth. [mɒp p] etw. auftunken luscious [lʃəs] köstlich

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you didn’t seem so surprised to see me here this evening. You’d obviously already cracked the enigma of Madame Butterfly’s identity.” Tim laughed and looked embarrassed. He explained how he had guessed who I was. When he had come to my flat, he had vaguely taken in the fact that there was a banana-yellow handbag on the sofa. The next night, the film evening, he had happened to glimpse his pseudonym Bruce Wayne on my computer. He had simply put two and two together. “So that explains why you looked at me as if I were a ghost.” I laughed and poked my knife aggressively into my duck. Exercise 32: Explain these English idioms – find the correct explanation. Fill in the right letter.

To put two and two together. 2. To look like the cat who has eaten the canary. 3. To lead somebody up the garden path. 4. A red herring.

… a. To be unfashionable

To be on the same wavelength. 6. To be on the frumpy side.

… e. To deceive somebody.

1.

and not glamorous. … b. A false trail. … c. To appear pleased. … d. To reach an obvious

conclusion. 5.

… f. To think in similar

ways. “What’s wrong?” Tim asked worried. “Isn’t the duck properly cooked?” enigma [inimə] Rätsel

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“No, it’s not that,” I explained. “It’s just ... well, I thought you were acting strangely because you had fallen in love with Harry Keating!” Tim spluttered and hastily covered his mouth with the white linen serviette. I explained that Chloe had told me he was gay to get me to relax more in his presence. “Well, her ruse certainly worked. We were both totally relaxed in each other’s company when we were watching Sex and the City.” I finished the last of my duck and nodded. “That was a great night. I haven’t laughed so much in ... weeks.” “Well, you have more of a social life than me, then. I haven’t laughed that much in years. It seems I’ve spent all my time either studying law or working my way up the London barrister scene. And you know what they say – all work and no play ...” I completed the proverb for him. “Makes Jack, or maybe Tim, a dull boy. But I don’t think you’re dull at all, Tim. You certainly aren’t dull when you talk about the cinema.” “Mmm – Ruby, would you like to go out on the patio for a minute. Maybe smoke a cigarette?” “Well, I’ve just given up, but I’d love to get a breath of your cigarette smoke.” An hour later we were still standing on the patio of Le Patois, drinks in hand, admiring the clear night sky studded with thousands of twinkling stars. Tim pointed to a constellation. It was ‘W’-shaped. “Do you know that constellation up there near the Pole Star?” he asked. ruse [ruz] List patio [p tiəυ] Veranda studded [stdid] übersät

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I shook my head. “I’m afraid the only stars I’m familiar with are the ones in films. What is that one called?” “Cassiopeia, after a queen who was both beautiful and vain. The stories surrounding the constellations rival the most thrilling film plots, you know. Queen Cassiopeia had second thoughts about letting her daughter Andromeda marry a chap called Perseus. In the end she did give in, but as a punishment for her vanity, the sea god Poseidon put her in a chair in the heavens, where half the time she has to revolve around the Pole Star hanging upside down and never really having time to think straight.” I looked up at Cassiopeia. I knew the feeling. “Half the time I think I know what I want.” I looked into Tim’s soft-brown eyes. “But the other half I have no idea of anything.” Tim took my hand in his and smiled at me. “Stars, you are unfortunate, I pity you, Beautiful as you are, shining in your glory, Love you do not, nor do you know what love is.” I felt his hand caress mine and, like Cassiopeia, I felt as if I were hanging upside down, barely managing to hold on. “That’s beautiful, Tim. Who said it?” “Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.” Tim moved a step closer to me. “Obviously that was the translation!” he added unnecessarily. I thought of Harry. Was it possible to love two men at the same time? I pulled back my hand, stepped back and looked up at the sky again. I had no idea which constellation was which. I was even a bit uncertain which one was the Great Bear. There were so many things I was uncertain about ... I shivered. Tim put his hand gently round my shoulder. “Let’s go in, Ruby. There seems to be a bit of a chill in the air.” 136

Sixteen Beauty and Love Beauty and love are all my dream; They change not with the changing day; Love stays forever like a stream That flows but never flows away ... (Andrew Young) It was early the next morning. Tim and I were sitting in the office waiting for Harry to arrive. I had left a message for him last night after Tim had driven me back to my flat. I told him that Tim and I wanted to have a crisis meeting the following morning and I asked Harry to arrive in the office punctually at nine o’clock. Tim and I weren’t saying much to one another. I think we both needed time to digest what had happened – or not happened – between us last night. “Tim, I ...” “Ruby, I ... You don’t need to explain anything ...” A commotion from the reception area interrupted our attempts at conversation. We could hear Janet Somerfield’s high pitched tones and a strangled yelping sound. Tim and I leapt up and he flung open the door. Harry was standing close to Mrs Somerfield holding out his hand to her in a gesture of entreaty. On closer examination I could see he was holding a kind of dry biscuit in his hand. Mrs Somerfield was standing erect in front of him clutching a curly white miniature poodle who was yapping wildly and continuously. gesture of entreaty [d estʃər əv intriti] flehende Gebärde

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“Janey, please ...” “Harry, I have nothing more to say to you but this. And that’s final. Don’t you ever dare come anywhere near me again. And don’t you dare offer Sir Winston another cheap dog treat.” When she saw Tim she scuttled over to him and thrust an envelope into his hand. “Mr Evans, read this. This statement contains the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” She thrust it into his hand. At that moment Aunt Patsy came into the room and took in the complete tableau in an instant. She ignored me and Tim, but glared at Harry and then swooped down on Mrs Somerfield, who had started to tremble and shake. “There, there, my dear. Come with me. My nephew will sort everything out for you.” She led Mrs Somerfield and her poodle gently out of the room and closed the door firmly shut behind her. Tim, Harry and I looked at each other in bewilderment. Exercise 33: Put these events from the story into the correct chronological order. a. … b. … c. … d. … e. … f. … g. …

Tim explained why he had got drunk. Bruce Wayne unmasked himself. Janet Somerfield handed Tim an envelope. Janet Somerfield told Chloe that she would drop by Tim’s office. Janet Somerfield caused a commotion. The two colleagues contemplated the stars. Chloe phoned Ruby from the studio.

to scuttle [sktl] trippeln to swoop down on sb. [swup daυn ɒn] sich auf jdn. stürzen

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“What was all that about?” I asked. Harry looked at me blankly. Tim opened the envelope and rapidly scanned through the contents. He coughed. “Mr Keating, Mrs Somerfield is basically ready to testify that you and Mycroft were in cahoots. You both embezzled the money. And you ... uhm ... seduced her ...” He looked down at the letter again, to quote her exact words: “Mr Keating seduced me with black magic tricks and made me promise to testify against Mr Worthing and not mention his, i. e. Mr Keating’s role in the fraud.” Tim looked up at Harry. “Mr Keating, do you have anything to say?” Harry looked from Tim to me and then back at Tim again. He burst out laughing. “She’s lying. I had nothing to do with the fraud. Tim, believe me ... I didn’t put Janey under any pressure. I don’t know why she’s lying about this.” I didn’t know what to think. Things had happened so quickly. Could Harry really have done all the things Mrs Somerfield had accused him of doing? I looked at him. He seemed so pathetic. The more I looked at him, the less I could believe that he could be so scheming. Black magic tricks, indeed! Obviously, Mrs Somerfield was suffering from delusions. The same kind of delusions that made her think that any one could imagine Sir Winston was some kind of dog genius and want to put him on a T.V. show! Tim fixed Harry with a penetrating gaze. “Mr Keating ... Harry – tell me the truth. Remember – we are your lawyers. Anything you say to us is privileged information. Let’s go to my office for more privacy.” to be in cahoots [bi in kəhuts] unter einer Decke stecken pathetic [pəθetik] erbärmlich scheming [skimiŋ] intrigant

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We trooped into Tim’s office. I sat down on a chair in front of Tim’s desk and Tim sat down opposite me. We exchanged glances. Harry took his coat off and hung it up. Then he pulled a chair up and sat down next to me. He thumped the desk with his fist. “Once and for all, Tim – read my lips – I am innocent. I had nothing to do with embezzling the money. I certainly had nothing to do with pressurizing Janey to testify on my behalf.” His voice broke and he covered up his face with his hands briefly, striving to regain his composure. He hesitated for a moment, then turned to me, his voice softening. “Ruby, you must believe me.” He touched my knee briefly with his hand, then turned to Tim again who had folded his arms and was gazing at Harry sceptically. “Tim, I’d like to talk to Ruby privately for five minutes if it’s okay with you.” Tim nodded reluctantly, looking like he’d just swallowed something very bitter. “That’s fine by me, Harry. The two of you can stay here. I’ll wait outside.” “Tim ...?” I said, panicking a bit at the turn of events. “I’m sure there’s no need ...” But Tim had already got up, ignoring my comment. He let himself out of his own office without saying a word. Harry turned to me again. “Ruby, I need your professional advice. It’s hard for me to talk about but ...” For one awful moment I thought Harry was about to confess that he had embezzled the money and seduced Mrs Somerfield. But his next words shocked me almost as much. “I’ve lost faith in Tim. I don’t think he’s the right man to lead my defence.” “But Harry ... Tim is really one of the best barristers in London. I don’t know if you realize ...” 140

Impatiently, Harry interrupted me. “That may well be, but don’t you see the fatal flaw in your argument, Ruby?” “Fatal flaw? What are you talking about, Harry?” Harry moved his chair closer to mine and leant his head forward. I was glad I was still seated because I suddenly I felt dizzy. “Ruby, can I ask you a question?” “Of course you can, Harry. As your solicitor ...” Before I could finish my sentence, Harry took both my hands in his and squeezed them. I felt the familiar tingle. “Not as my solicitor, Ruby. As a woman. Do you believe I’m innocent?” He moved his face closer to mine. “Do you feel in your heart I’m innocent, Ruby?” He grabbed my hand and pressed it hard against my breast. I nodded, hoping Harry wouldn’t notice how violently my heart was thumping. “I know ... I feel you’re innocent, Harry.” His lips brushed mine lightly – the sensation set my body on fire. I flushed. But then he pulled away. “Thank you, Ruby. I needed to know that. And now I have a question for you, as my solicitor. Can you find me a new barrister? I don’t want to be Tim’s client any more. Can you find me another barrister just as brilliant as Tim?” I was struggling to think clearly. Whenever Harry kissed me, I felt incapable of rational thought. It was as if he wove a spell around me every time he was alone with me. “But Tim is so good ...” Harry laughed harshly. “Maybe, but don’t you see ... he’s jealous of me. He warned me to stay away from you. He’s fallen in love with you, Ruby. That was obvious to me the first time I saw you together. The way his eyes follow you around all the time. The number of times he blushes when 141

you compliment him on something he’s said or done. You must have noticed it surely? But I could tell, too, that you weren’t interested in playing.” He semaphored quotation marks. “‘The Dating Game’ with Tim. And I’m grateful for that.” Harry looked at me affectionately. Exercise 34: Put the following phrases into the blanks to complete the dialogue. (I wouldn’t exactly call, It was more like, Good luck with, I’m afraid, So could you tell that, I’m sorry, That’s perfectly okay)

“1. _______________________________ Tim was trying to flirt with me?” Harry laughed. Rather superciliously, I thought. “Well, 2. _______________________________

what Tim was

doing flirting. 3. ________________________________ watching a man groping around in the darkness trying to find the light switch.” At that moment Tim came back into the room and cleared his throat. Harry stood up and approached Tim. “Mr Evans, 4. _______________________________

to say this but

5. _______________________________

I have lost confi-

to semaphore sth. [seməfɔ] etw. andeuten superciliously [supəsiliəsli] hochnäsig to grope around in the darkness [rəυp əraυnd in ðə dɑknəs] im Dunkeln tappen

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dence in you. I would like to dispense with your services. Ms Mank has agreed to recommend another barrister.” Tim didn’t seem surprised. “6. _______________________ ________, Mr Keating. 7. __________________________ _____ your new barrister.” Harry put his coat back on and turned to me. “Ruby, give me a call later please. Bye-bye.” After Harry had left, Tim and I looked at each other. “Uhm ... Tim, I wasn’t expecting this. I’m sorry ...” Tim shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Ruby. This is the best thing that could have happened to me. I know now what I have to do next.” He picked up the phone and dialled a short three-digit number. “What are you doing, Tim?” Tim looked up at me. “I’m calling the police, Ruby. Now I’m no longer Harry’s barrister, I have no obligations to him. He tried to make Mrs Somerfield commit perjury.” I leapt up and jammed my hand down on the phone preventing Tim making the connection. “But you can’t do this Tim! Just because you’re jealous of Harry!” Tim sighed and put the phone down. He walked around the desk and put his arms on my shoulders. “Ruby, it’s true that I have very ... very strong feelings for you. But it’s obvious that you don’t share them. That’s a shame because I think the two of us could have been ...” He struggled to find the right words. “The two of us could have been good together if we’d given ourselves a chance, and if I’d had the courage to dispense with sth. [dispens wið] auf etw. verzichten

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to have been more direct with you much earlier.” Tim took a step closer to me. “Ruby ...” But before he could say anything more, I pushed him away and stepped back, my eyes flooded with tears. On the one hand I wanted to believe Harry, but something inside was niggling at me. What if ... what if he really wasn’t innocent? What if I was letting my feelings for him cloud my judgement? And what about Tim? Was I making a big mistake in pushing him away? I made a decision. “Okay, Tim, phone the police if you think that’s the right thing to do. And we’ll see what happens. But my gut instinct is that Harry is innocent. I’ll organize a good barrister for him.” He picked up a paper handkerchief from his desk. “Remember, Ruby, Janet Somerfield and Harry were on intimate terms.” His face flushed pink as he handed me the handkerchief. “Your lipstick is smudged. Be careful, will you. Keating does have a way ... a way with women.” Now it was my turn to blush. I snatched the handkerchief out of his hand. “Tim, make the phone call.” I said, gathering my coat and briefcase. “We’ll talk soon.” And with those words I swept out of the room.

to niggle at sb. [nil ət] an etw. nagen gut instinct [t instiŋkt] Bauchgefühl smudged [smd d] verschmiert

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Seventeen Ruby’s Diary Events moved quickly after Tim contacted the police. They reinterviewed Harry Keating and in the end he broke under the pressure. He confessed to helping Mycroft Worthing embezzle over five million pounds. Mycroft and Harry were supposed to flee the country together and fly to Mexico, where they would share the money. But Mycroft left the country three days earlier than planned and covered his tracks well. He left behind evidence implicating Harry. Keating had then been forced to come up with evidence pointing at Mycroft. He began to flirt heavily with Janet Somerfield, a lonely and vulnerable woman, who had finally been persuaded to lie on his behalf. She claimed she had seen Mycroft behaving suspiciously and had glimpsed a ticket for Cuba on his desk. Harry hoped this testimony would be a red herring and would point the police in the wrong direction. Harry wanted to fly to Mexico as soon as possible and demand his fair share of stolen funds from Mycroft. Things started to go wrong when Jane got cold feet. She slowly realized that Harry had no romantic feelings for her at all and had merely exploited her for his own benefit. Harry had then turned to an employee called Annabel and had used the same tactics on her. She was going to be his new Janet. I wrote Harry a letter telling him I could no longer be his solicitor. I called Rosamund Smith, a barrister with a very good reputation, out of a feeling of professional obligation to Harry, and asked her to act on his behalf. Like Janet Somerfield, I never wanted to talk to Harry again. I just feel hopelessly naïve. Yet again I fell for a guy who is no good ... 145

I have to think of Tim all the time. I’ve been avoiding him for the last week as much as I can. I’ve been meeting clients out of the office and even called in sick on one day. I really like him, though. Maybe my feelings for him are even deeper, but how can I trust mere emotions any more? My feelings are red herrings, always pointing me in the wrong direction ... “So, what now, Ruby?” Chloe nudged me affectionately. “Fancy a film evening tonight. Tim is coming.” I shook my head. “Chloe, I still can’t understand what I saw in Harry. It’s unnerving. And until I understand what happened there, I don’t think I can go out with any other man. Maybe I’ll become a lesbian too!” Chloe laughed. “And what makes you think it’s any easier? If you think men are difficult to fathom, just wait until you try to work out what’s going on in a woman’s mind!” “You’re probably right. Look how I misjudged Aunt Patsy. I thought she was ignorant and insensitive. But she took an immediate dislike to Harry, and she knew how to comfort poor Mrs Somerfield. Oh, Chloe, Harry Keating! He’s not even handsome. What was going on with me there?” Chloe got up and went to the cupboard. She came back with a sheet of paper. “I have another confession to make. You know that file Tim gave you. A piece of paper fell out and I made a photocopy.” I looked at her in shock. “You didn’t!” Chloe had the grace to look embarrassed for a minute. to fathom [f ðəm] begreifen

146

“I know, I know. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. Read it. I think you’ll find it interesting. It’s a report from the private detective who was investigating Mycroft.” I took the sheet of paper and began to read. Mycroft Worthing (and b.t.w. his direct report Harry Keating) are both so-called P.U.A.s ... I stopped reading and looked up. “There’s that abbreviation again. I first saw it on a book on Tim’s desk. What does it stand for?” Chloe sighed. “Think about it Chloe. I think you can work it out for yourself.” I thought for a minute and suddenly things fell into place. “Pick-up artists! Harry and Mycroft were pick-up artists.” Chloe nodded. “As you know, I’ve been doing some research for the programme. I read a book written by an American journalist who succeeded in penetrating a topsecret group of men based in Los Angeles who call themselves P.U.A.s. In the meantime the group has spread to Europe. Harry Keating was one of them. Mycroft Worthing too – he used to leave his wife and family for weekends at a time and go out on the town. They went to nightclubs with a gang of their mates – they call themselves a pack ...” “As in pack of wolves?” Chloe nodded. “That’s right.” “So I did meet my caveman after all!” “These men stalk women, and the leader of the pack is the one who manages to collect the most numbers from women in an evening.” b.t.w. = by the way [bai ðə wei] übrigens

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I remembered the whoops of joy that had greeted Harry that night when he had returned to his friends with my telephone number. Things were beginning to make sense. Chloe continued. “Yes, and these men all follow a sort of guidebook which contains all the tips and tricks and routines that help men pick up women more easily.” “What kind of things do they use?” “Well, all sorts of things really. Pick-up artists are wily. They perform magic tricks to impress gullible women, or they pretend they have tons of things in common with you.” I winced. “They try to appear more emotionally open than most men are, but they always try to keep the woman off her balance by frequently changing their moods.” “Stop – this is all sounding sickeningly familiar.” Chloe stroked my cheek. “Don’t worry, honey. It’s not your fault. Anyone would have fallen for it. It’s a bit like putting someone under a spell.” I longed for a cigarette. Is falling in love like becoming addicted to nicotine? Once you start, it’s really hard to stop? It’s like a chemical imbalance in your brain? It was probably a combination of tiredness and my own inability to get a handle on my feelings. Ridiculously, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. Chloe stared at me, her eyes filled with concern. She squatted down next to me again, hugging me gently. She wiped off a tear on my face with her forefinger and whispered: “Come on Ruby. Harry is no big loss, I assure you.” I let myself dissolve in her embrace. “It’s not that, it’s just ... wily [waili] raffiniert gullible [ləbl] leichtgläubig to squat down [skwɒt daυn] sich hinhocken

148

just that ... I’m already nearly 30 and I’ve never had a relationship that’s lasted longer than six months ... except with Rick, of course, and what a psycho he turned out to be. I must have a terrible taste in men. How will I recognize my soul mate? I might just pass him by on the Tube with my luck. He might be someone I already know, but am just too scared to ...” Chloe nodded in solemn agreement. Without warning I began to sob loudly, my breath coming out in strangled gasps. “Oh Chloe, there must be some interesting, kind, intelligent, thoughtful, sexy, unattached man out there ...” Chloe frowned for a moment as if trying to figure out the solution to some complex, mathematical equation. “Well,” she said after a few seconds. “I guess so.” I looked at her in dismay. “What? You guess so?” Chloe grinned awkwardly and stroked the back of my head. “It’s just that I’ve never met any, but then again, I don’t have much of an antenna for straight men, do I?” I didn’t find this reply exactly comforting and started to sob even more loudly. “I’ll be left on the shelf like an old jar of cold cream,” I wailed. “Nobody will want me. I’ll become this embittered career solicitor and people will point to me and say: ‘There she goes – Miss Successful Career Lady.’ Oh, I’ll die all alone and unloved.” “There, there, Ruby. Everything will turn out okay.” Chloe patted me soothingly on my back. She hesitated a moment and then added with studied nonchalance, “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t give Tim another chance.” “Tim? No, I blew that one.” “I don’t know, Ruby. Only you can find that out. But I’ve got a good feeling about the two of you. If things don’t work out, I promise to be straight in my next life!” 149

Exercise 35: Fill in “The Dating Game”-ABC. The number of letters in the missing word is indicated. 1.

U stands for – _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ – this is another word for ‘single’. The kind of man Ruby is looking for.

2.

V stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ – Ruby has an orange-and-brown jacket made of this material.

3.

W stands for _ _ _ _ – this is another word for ‘clever’. It is how Chloe describes pick-up artists.

4.

X stands for _ x _ _ – Mycroft prepared this – his escape – well.

5.

Y stands for _ _ _ _ _ _ – this is the colour of Chloe’s handbag.

6.

Z stands for Club _ _ _ _ – this is the place Ruby first met Harry.

I couldn’t help laughing and she joined in. Finally, though, she got up and grabbed her handbag. “I have to go now. I’m meeting up with Tim at the restaurant. He’s bringing his sister Suzy with him – so you never know! And then we’re going straight to the cinema. If you decide to join us, I know he’ll be thrilled.” “Mm – I’ll think about it. I think I’ll stay here. I’ve bought a book on astronomy. I need to concentrate on a topic that doesn’t deal with people.” Chloe left and I cuddled down under a blanket on the sofa and immersed myself in the book. It described how to locate 150

various constellations and gave the Latin names and various degrees of brightness of all the stars in the cluster. This was mildly interesting, but the stories behind the constellations were fascinating. I read the story of Cassiopeia and thought about the beautiful but lonely queen circling around her own axis, millions of miles removed from the earth and all human chaos. But then I read on and discovered Cassiopeia wasn’t all alone at all. Poseidon had set her husband in the sky beside her. I clapped the book shut in disgust. Even Cassiopeia wasn’t as alone as I was. After I had drunk my obligatory glass of Chianti, I picked up the phone and dialled a number. Tim answered. I could hear the laughter in the restaurant. “Tim? It’s Ruby. Well, you all certainly seem to be having a great time tonight.” “Ruby? Is that you? Hold on, Ruby. Let me take you somewhere quieter.” I waited as Tim went out of the restaurant to the street outside where hardly any traffic drives by. I switched off the lamp next to the sofa and gradually my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I could make out a lone star in the fading light of the sunset. “Yeah – everyone is enjoying themselves. Chloe and Suzy seem to be getting on like a house on fire ... Ruby, I’m glad that you phoned me. I really miss you, you know.” He paused briefly, then continued shyly. “I hope you understand why I had to call the police ... Do you think you could ever ...? Can you give me a third chance, please?” “Yes, I understand, Tim. You did the right thing ... I’ve just cluster [klstə] Haufen

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got one question. I think I finally get it. Were you trying to warn me about Harry?” There was a briefest of pauses at the other end before Tim answered. “Ruby, I read the report the private detective gave me and did a bit of research. There’s a book called P.U.A.s – The Art of the Flirt. I bought a copy and read about what these guys do. The way they talk about women is well ...” “What?” “Some of the stuff was funny, but most of it just left me feeling depressed. These guys actually grade women on a scale from one to ten. Ten is for women they find totally ugly and one is super-model status.” “That’s degrading.” “It’s sick. But the more I read, the more I understood why these particular men were attracted to this system in the first place. Most of them are nerds. Real women were too unapproachable. It is only when they change the concept of dating into a game that they can feel confident.” “It’s okay, Tim. We don’t need to go into details.” I could hear Chloe’s voice in the distance. She was laughing light-heartedly. “I’m grateful to Chloe.” Tim coughed. “Although I guessed what tactics Harry was using with you, I never made the connection with Mrs Somerfield.” “Or Janey, as he kept calling her. I should have known that he was on intimate terms with her when he called her Janey. He must have been close to her. She practically bit my head off when I called her Jeanette by mistake.” “I know. She isn’t an easy woman to get along with. But she was just lonely and looking for love.” I stared out of the French windows at the evening star twinkling in the sky. “It’s funny, Tim, isn’t it. They teach you so 152

many things at school – how to measure the circumference of a circle, how to dissect frogs, and, if you’re very unlucky, even how to conjugate an ancient Greek verb. But why is it they never teach you anything about love – the only subject worth studying.” Tim didn’t say anything, so, with a bit of a lump in my throat, I forged ahead. “Tim, I ... uhm ... have another question. Do you see those constellations you were telling me about from where you’re standing?” “No, it’s still too early for those. There’s only one star – well, planet – out this evening, Venus.” I took a deep breath, then I whispered into the phone. “Stars, you are unfortunate, I pity you, Beautiful as you are, shining in your glory, Love you do not, nor do you know what love is.” “Ruby, you remembered!” A niggling suspicion gnawed at my soul. “And quoting beautiful verse isn’t some seduction technique you learnt about in your research, I hope.” Tim laughed. “Certainly not. The pick-up artists were into all kinds of things there, but certainly not into the life and death issues like in the poetry of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe!” I hesitated. If they’d had love on the syllabus at my school, instead of Geometry, Biology and Extinct Languages, I wouldn’t be in the mess, not knowing what to do ... But, what was it my mother said ... ‘Hitch your wagon to a star and enjoy the ride. And maybe you’ll come across your soul mate on the way. You never know but enjoy the ride.’ Well, what did I have to lose? to dissect sth. [disekt] etw. sezieren lump [lmp] Kloß syllabus [siləbəs] Lehrplan

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“Tim, don’t move a muscle! I need someone to teach me a bit more about star-gazing. I’ll be right there. Wait for me. It’ll take me fifteen minutes at the most!” I darted into the bedroom and considered my wardrobe. This didn’t feel like a black dress occasion. I needed something more colourful and ... what was the word? Ah yes, experimental! A few minutes later I was dressed in a blue tweed jacket, a shimmering silk dress and my salmon-pink leggings. I threw on my coat and turned off the rest of the lights. The evening sky glowed pink and blue through the French windows. Venus caught my eye and seemed to wink at me. For a moment I stood and stared, and then fervently recited an old chant from my childhood: Star light, star bright First star I see tonight Wish I may, wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight.

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Solutions Exercise 1

1. career woman, 2. wants her to try, 3. small, 4. furniture, 5. Internet dating, 6. privacy Exercise 2

1. German, 2. way, 3. television, 4. rosebuds, 5. men, 6. life Exercise 3

1. false, 2. false, 3. true, 4. true, 5. false, 6. false Exercise 4

1. Tim, 2. Ruby, 3. Chloe, 4. Tim, 5. Chloe, 6. Ruby Exercise 5

1. constantly, 2. beautiful, 3. regularly, 4. clever, 5. surprisingly, 6. certainly Exercise 6

1. Surname, 2. First Name, 3. Year of Birth, 4. Profession, 5. Hobbies, 6. Self-description Exercise 7

1. Dating, 2. meet, 3. flirting, 4. going, 5. wearing, 6. dating, deciding Exercise 8

1. aquarium, 2. boyfriends, 3. career, 4. dating, 5. embezzlement, 6. flattery, 7. gallery, 8. Harry

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Exercise 9

1d, 2e, 3f, 4a, 5b, 6c Exercise 10

1. I would like to get to know you. 2. Do you prefer drinking wine or beer on a first date? 3. How about meeting up this evening? 4. Please tell me about your favourite hobby. 5. Are you interested in going to a classical concert? 6. Can I send you a text message? Exercise 11

1e, 2a, 3c, 4d, 5b, 6g, 7f Exercise 12

1. Nobody will convict you. 2. Tim didn’t persuade Mrs Somerfield to make a statement. 3. Rick dumped Ruby. 4. Chloe strips and paints furniture to give it a distressed look. 5. Ruby might send a potential lover a one-liner. 6. Mycroft could have threatened Mrs Somerfield. Exercise 13

1. lips, 2. briefcase, 3. hair, 4. tie, 5. dots, 6. gift Exercise 14

1. passionate, 2. adventurous, 3. athletic, 4. curious, 5. musical, 6. poetic Exercise 15

1. true, 2. false, 3. true, 4. true, 5. false, 6. true

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Exercise 16

1g, 2j, 3b, 4e, 5i, 6h, 7d, 8a, 9c, 10f Exercise 17

1. Chloe, 2. Ruby, 3. Tim, 4. Rick, 5. Janet Somerfield, 6. Harry, 7. Aunt Patsy, 8. Charlie Exercise 18

1. has just spent, 2. has just arrived, 3. walked, was dreaming, 4. wanted, 5. looked, 6. was watching, fell Exercise 19

1. Internet, 2. jury, 3. Keating, 4. Leo, 5. Madame Exercise 20

1b, 2f, 3e, 4d, 5c, 6a Exercise 21

1. to be, 2. going, 3. to meet, 4. to have, 5. meeting, 6. to ask, 7. hearing Exercise 22

1. Since, 2. for, 3. since, 4. since, 5. Since, 6. for Exercise 23

1. rat, 2. path, 3. butterfly, 4. spirit, 5. spring, 6. crow Exercise 24

1. breakfast, 2. bacon, 3. mushrooms, 4. rosemary, 5. herb, 6. eggs, 7. cream

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Exercise 25

1e, 2d, 3f, 4b, 5a, 6c Exercise 26

1. Nemo, 2. one, 3. power, 4. questions, 5. receptionist, 6. text Exercise 27

1. banana, 2. bat, 3. trees, 4. pumpkins, 5. butterflies, 6. horses Exercise 28

2. have been looking at, 3. has been flirting, 4. has been working, 5. has been investigating Exercise 29

1. false, 2. true, 3. false, 4. false, 5. true, 6. false Exercise 30

1. got rid of, 2. spring, 3. clear, 4. mood, 5. encounter, 6. bunch Exercise 31

1. towards, 2. for, 3. into, 4. of, 5. about, 6. at Exercise 32

1d, 2c, 3e, 4b, 5f, 6a Exercise 33

1d, 2g, 3b, 4a, 5f, 6e, 7c

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Exercise 34

1. So could you tell that, 2. I wouldn’t exactly call, 3. It was more like, 4. I’m sorry, 5. I’m afraid, 6. That’s perfectly okay, 7. Good luck with Exercise 35

1. unattached, 2. velvet, 3. wily, 4. exit, 5. yellow, 6. Zero

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Liebe Leserinnen und Leser, Die einzelnen Titel aus der Reihe Lernschmöker sind den sechs verschiedenen Niveaustufen des Gemeinsamen Europäischen Referenzrahmens für Sprachen zugeordnet. Welcher Niveaustufe dieser Titel angehört, können Sie der Angabe auf dem Cover bzw. Buchrücken entnehmen. Die Niveaustufen bedeuten: A1/A2: Elementare Sprachverwendung, d. h. A1: Sie können einzelne Wörter und ganz einfache Sätze verstehen. A2: Sie können ganz kurze und einfache Alltagstexte lesen. B1/B2: Selbstständige Sprachverwendung, d. h. B1: Sie verstehen Texte, in denen v. a. sehr gebräuchliche Alltags- und Berufssprache vorkommt. B2: Sie verstehen zeitgenössische literarische Prosatexte. C1/C2: Kompetente Sprachverwendung, d. h. C1: Sie verstehen Sachtexte, technische Fachartikel sowie literarische Texte. C2: Sie verstehen jede Art geschriebener Texte, auch wenn sie inhaltlich und sprachlich komplex sind. Sollten Sie ganz genau wissen wollen, welche Niveaustufe für Sie geeignet ist, so finden Sie auf unserer Website unter www.langenscheidt.de sowohl eine kompakte Beschreibung der einzelnen Referenzniveaus als auch eine Orientierungshilfe zur Selbstbeurteilung in Bezug auf die verschiedenen Niveaustufen. So können Sie die Lektüre wählen, die ideal auf Ihre Sprachkenntnisse und Bedürfnisse zugeschnitten ist. Viel Spaß beim Lernschmökern! Ihre Langenscheidt-Redaktion 160