30   .       .  B1B2
 


        ,    -  ,    .

        .        .                .   ,  :   ,    ,   .       .

 ,  :

      -     ;

    ,    ;

   .

       .  115    B1, 1630    B2.         .     .





30   .       .  B1B2



30   

   

  

 B1B2

Thirty Evenings of Love

 :   









   

 1.  B1

1. The Wrong Name /  

2. Seat 14B /  14B

3. Two Dogs in the Park /    

4. The Bookshop in the Rain /    

5. Wrong Number /   

6. The Cooking Class /  

7. Ten Years Later /   

8. The Piano Next Door /   

9. The Wrong Suitcase /  

10. The Lighthouse / 

11. Snowed In /  

12. The Language Exchange /  

13. The Last Bus /  

14. Valentine's Day /   

15. The Note in the Book /   

 2.  B2

16. The Interview / 

17. Grandma's Letters /  

18. The Best Man / 

19. The Coast Road /  

20. The Bakery Across the Street /   

21. Swipe Right /  

22. The Jump / 

23. Second Spring /  

24. Much Ado in the Park /    

25. The Interpreter / 

26. The Apple Harvest /  

27. The Ghost of Glenmoray /  

28. Five Hours Apart /   

29. The Matchmaker / 

30. Thirty Evenings /  

 






   


   30   .   ,    :   ,   , ,  , .     ,      ,          .   ,      .     .

         .      ,   ,     .

  

 115   B1.  900 ,  ,  ,  .



 1630   B2.  1200 ,  ,     .

 

  -.    ,      .

    ,   .     ,    .

    .      .

             .        .

   ,     .  ,       .

   

   , , , , ,    ,      :  grand,  cwtch,  kia kaha.           .     (colour, neighbour).




 1.  B1


 115



STORY 1




The Wrong Name /  


Seattle, USA  , 

Mia had a simple morning routine. At 7:45 she left her apartment, walked two blocks in the Seattle rain and opened the door of a small coffee shop called The Daily Cup. At 7:50 she ordered a large vanilla latte with oat milk. At 7:55 she was on the bus to work. It was not an exciting life, but it was a good one, and Mia liked it that way.

     .  7:45    ,                 .  7:50        .  7:55       .    ,  ,    .

The only problem was the new barista. He was a tall young man with curly hair and a big smile, and he was very friendly. But he could not write names. On Monday, Mia's cup said "Maya". On Tuesday it said "Mila". On Wednesday it said "Nia".

    .         ,  .      .        .    .    .

"It's Mia," she told him on Thursday. "M-I-A. Three letters."

   ,      .  --.  .

"Mia," he repeated seriously. "Got it. Sorry. I'm terrible with names. I'm much better with coffee."

 ,    .  . .     .     .

That was true. The coffee was excellent. Mia smiled, took her cup and ran for the bus. Only when she sat down did she look at the cup. It did not say "Mia". It said "Leo".

  :   .  ,      .    ,    .     .    .

She took a sip. Black coffee, no milk, no sugar. Very strong. Mia hated black coffee.

  . ׸ ,  ,  .  .      .

"Somewhere in this city," she thought, "a man called Leo is drinking my oat latte, and he is not happy either."

-   ,   ,          ,      .

On Friday the same thing happened. Mia ordered her latte, the barista smiled and said, "Mia, M-I-A, I remember," and five minutes later on the bus she was holding a cup that said "Leo" again. Black. Strong. Terrible.

   .   ,    : , --,  ,            . ׸. . .

On Monday Mia decided to be a detective. She arrived at 7:40, five minutes early, and sat at a small table by the window with a newspaper. She did not read it. She watched the door.

     .    7:40,    ,        .     .    .

At 7:48 a man came in. He was about thirty, with a dark blue coat, a wet umbrella and the face of someone who had not slept enough. He ordered, waited and took a cup from the counter. Then he took a sip and made a face. A very unhappy face.

 7:48  .  ,  - ,      ,   .   ,      .     .   .

Mia stood up and walked to the counter. A cup with her name was waiting there. Of course, it was black coffee.

     .       .  ,   .

"Excuse me," she said to the man. "Are you Leo?"

 ,    .   ?

He looked at her in surprise. "Yes. How do you know?"

    :



 .   ?

"Because I think you are drinking my latte," Mia said, "and I have been drinking your coffee for two days. It's like drinking a car tyre."

  , ,    ,   ,         .     .

Leo laughed. It was a nice laugh, warm and a little surprised. "And I thought somebody was trying to poison me with oat milk. It's sweet! Who puts vanilla in coffee?"

 .     ,    .



  - , -     .   !     ?

"I do," said Mia. "Every day."

 ,   .   .

They exchanged cups. The barista watched them with interest.

  .      .

"Sorry!" he called. "Mia and Leo. Three letters, three letters. You see the problem."

 !   .    .     . ,   .

Mia did not see the problem at all, but she did not say anything. She was looking at the clock. 7:56.

    ,  .    . 7:56.

"Oh no. My bus!"

  .  !

She ran outside, but the bus was already driving away down the street. The next one was in twenty minutes. She would be late for work for the first time in a year.

   ,    .     .       .

Leo came out behind her and opened his umbrella. "Where do you work?"

     .



   ?

"At the library on Fifth Avenue."

     .

"I'm going that way. I walk to work every day. It takes fifteen minutes. If you walk fast, you'll be there before the bus."

    .       .   .   ,     .

So they walked. Leo held the umbrella over both of them, and Mia learned three things about him. He was an engineer who designed bridges. He had moved to Seattle from Chicago two months ago. And he drank black coffee because his grandfather always said that sweet coffee was "for people who don't like coffee".

  .      ,       .     .         .    ,      ,      ,    .

"Your grandfather was wrong," said Mia.

   ,   .

"Probably," Leo agreed. "He was also wrong about computers, the internet and pizza with pineapple."

 ,   .      ,     .

"What's wrong with pizza with pineapple?"

      ?

Leo stopped in the middle of the street and looked at her. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Finally, someone understands."

       .



 .  . -  - .

They arrived at the library at 8:12. Mia was not late. She was, in fact, three minutes early.

     8:12.   .  ,      .

"Thank you for the umbrella," she said.

   ,   .

"Thank you for my coffee," said Leo. He hesitated. "Maybe tomorrow we can check our cups together? Just to be sure."

    ,   .  .   ,     ?   .

"Just to be sure," Mia repeated, and smiled.

   ,     .

The next morning she arrived at 7:48. Leo was already there, holding two cups. One said "Mia". The other said "Leo". The barista gave her a big, innocent smile.

      7:48.         .     .    .      .

"I got it right this time," he said proudly.

       ,    .

They walked to work together again. And the next day. And the day after that. Mia stopped taking the bus. Her morning routine changed a little: 7:45, two blocks, The Daily Cup, a latte with oat milk, and fifteen minutes under Leo's umbrella. It was still not an exciting life. But it was a much better one.

     .    .   .     . Ÿ    : 7:45,  ,    ,          .  -    .    .

A month later, on a Sunday, Leo invited her to a pizza place near the harbour. He ordered a large pizza with pineapple. When it arrived, there were words on the box, written in big black letters: "For Mia. M-I-A."

 ,  ,       .      .   ,       :  . --߻.

"I asked them to write it," Leo said. "I didn't want any more mistakes."

    ,   .      .

Mia looked at the box, then at him. "You know," she said, "I think that barista made the best mistake of my life."

   ,   .



 ,   ,  ,        .





  

a morning routine  ,  

to make a face ,  

to be late for work   

to get it right  ,  

Just to be sure.   . /   .




  .


   .

   ,     (https://www.litres.ru/book/aleksandra-panfilova/30-vecherov-o-liubvi-romanticheskie-istorii-na-anglii-74723413/)  .

      Visa, MasterCard, Maestro,    ,   ,     ,  PayPal, WebMoney, ., QIWI ,       .


