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She caught a cab from the movie theatre back to the Brentwood. The cab couldn’t get close to the kerb because a big stretch limo was hogging all the available space and she had to squeeze her way past it. She walked out of the fetid, goat-frying air and into the blessed cool of the lobby. The fine cotton of her blouse was sticking like grime to her skin. Her hair felt as if she’d bought it at a fairground on a stick. At the front desk she asked if there were any messages, grimly expecting none. There was one.
她从电影院出来，叫辆出租车回布伦特伍德。出租车没法靠近人行道，因为一辆豪华大轿车把空间都霸占完了，她只好从车边挤过去。她走出炸山羊味儿的恶臭空气，进了凉快可爱的大厅。她的高级棉布衬衣像脏东西一样粘在皮肤上，头发仿佛是从露天市场上买的便宜货。她问前台有没有口信，不过心里并没有抱着任何期待。可结果还真有一条。
Oh…
哦……
Good.
好。
It had worked. She had gone out to the movie specifically in order to make the phone ring. She couldn’t bear sitting in a hotel room waiting.
成功了。她出去看电影就是为了这个，为了让电话铃有机会响起来。在房间里坐着干等她实在受不了。
She wondered. Should she open the message down here? Her clothes were itching and she longed to take them all off and just lie on the bed. She had turned the air conditioning way down to its bottom temperature setting, way up to its top fan setting. What she wanted more than anything else in the world at the moment was goose pimples. Then a hot shower, then a cool one, then lying on a towel, on the bed again, drying in the air conditioning. Then reading the message. Maybe more goose pimples. Maybe all sorts of things.
她开始考虑。该不该在这儿看留言？她的衣服发痒，她真想把它们全脱下来，然后躺在床上什么也不干。她早就把空调一路调到了底，远远超出它的能力极限。现在整个世界里她最想要的就是满身的鸡皮疙瘩。然后再来个热水澡，然后再来个冷水澡，然后再垫张浴巾躺回床上，让空调把自己吹干。然后再看留言。也许再来些鸡皮疙瘩。也许再来些各种各样的东西。
No. What she wanted more than anything else in the world was a job in American television at ten times her current salary. More than anything else in the world. In the world. What she wanted more than anything else at all was no longer a live issue.
不，整个世界里她最想要的是美国电视公司给的十倍薪水。它比这个世界上的任何东西都吸引她。全世界。因为她真正最想要的已经时不再来了。
She sat on a chair in the lobby, under a kentia palm, and opened the little cellophane-windowed envelope.
她在大厅一棵肯茵棕榈底下找张椅子坐下，打开了玻璃纸的小信封。
‘Please call,’ it said. ‘Not happy,’ and gave a number. The name was Gail Andrews.
“请来电。”上头说，“不快乐。”底下是一个电话号码。署名盖尔?安德鲁斯。
Gail Andrews.
盖尔?安德鲁斯。
It wasn’t a name she was expecting. It caught her unawares. She recognised it, but couldn’t immediately say why. Was she Andy Martin’s secretary? Hilary Bass’s assistant? Martin and Bass were the two major contact calls she had made, or tried to make, at NBS. And what did ‘Not happy’ mean?
崔茜卡等的可不是这个名字，她不禁有些猝不及防。其实这名字还挺眼熟的，可她一时想不起来为什么。这人是安迪?马丁的秘书吗？或者希勒里?巴司的助理？马丁和巴司都是NBS的人，她联系过的，或者说试图联系。还有，“不快乐”是什么意思？
‘Not happy?’
“不快乐？”
