Читала-читала аглицкий детектив и наткнулась. Мечты манчестерского подростка:
'…meanwhile, he was stuck in this shitty life that he hated. There was only one little flicker of light at the bottom of the mineshaft. He wanted to learn Russian because he wanted to work for some oligarh and learn how to get rich himself. Those guys didn’t give a shit whose toes they stood on.'
Val McDermid, ‘Fever of the Bones’