开始痛了

标签： | 发表时间：2011-09-08 00:41 | 作者：江烈农 shaopeng

出处：http://www.yeeyan.org

译者江烈农

It’s Beginning to Hurt

开始痛了

by James Lasdun,

詹来德

‘Good lunch Mr Bryar?’

　　“唉、老白，午饭吃好啦？”

‘Excellent lunch.’

　　“啊、挺好的。”

‘Sorleys?’

　　“老家肉饼？”

‘No, some … Chinese place.’

　　“没……是……去了家小面馆儿。”

‘Your wife rang.’

　　“您爱人刚刚来电话。”

He dialled home: his wife answered:

　　他拨通家里号码，妻子接起电话：

‘Where on earth have you been?’

　　“刚跑哪儿去了你？”

‘Sorry darling. Complicated lunch…’

　　“咳，没去哪儿，午饭跟那谁谈事儿……”

Strange, to be lying to her again. And about a funeral!

　　感觉有点怪怪的：怎么又开始对她撒谎了？怎么竟会为了个葬礼撒谎？

‘Tom’s coming down. Stop at Dalgliesh’s, would you, and pick up a salmon. A wild one? Better go right now, actually, in case they run out.’

　　“东东今天难得回家。你顺道儿去趟大钟寺，上那海鲜市场买条鲤鱼——要不咱买大点儿的吧？我看你干脆现在就得去，待会儿该卖光了。”

It was July, a baking summer. He walked slowly, thinking of the ceremony he had just attended. Among the half dozen mourners, he had known only the solicitor who had introduced him to Marie ten years ago and had told him of her death last week.

　　七月，燥热炎夏。他走得很慢，边走边想着刚才那个葬礼。参加的人有六七个，可他只认识其中一个当律师的朋友。十年前，正是通过那人介绍，他才认识了曼丽；上周，也正是那个人，通知了他曼丽的死讯。

The news had stunned him: he hadn’t known she was ill, but then he hadn’t seen her for seven years. Throughout the service he had found himself weeping uncontrollably.

　　这个消息犹如晴天霹雳，因为他从来不知道原来她患着病，而且后来也足有七年没再跟她见过面了。整个葬礼，他不能自已，潸然泪下。

The man at Dalgliesh’s hoisted a fish the length of his arm from under a covering of seaweed and ice.

　　到了海鲜市场，挑了家卖鲤鱼的，伙计从大水缸底下捞出一条大个儿的，足有他胳膊那么长：

‘How’s that?’

　　“您来这条？”

‘Okay. Would you –’

　　“行，你帮我——”

‘Gut her and clean her sir?’

　　“杀好剐好清干净是吧？”

‘Please.’

　　“对，谢谢。”

The man slit the creature’s belly with a short knife, spilling the dewy beige guts into a bucket. He rinsed the flecked mesh of scales and the red flesh inside, then wrapped the fish in paper and put it in a plastic bag. It was six inches too long for the office fridge.

　　小伙子操起短刀，剖开鱼肚，扯出一团黄褐色的内脏，湿嗒嗒的，扔进一个小桶，清了清外面斑斑点点的鱼鳞，洗了洗里面鲜红的鱼肉，装进了塑料袋。这鱼太大了，他拿回单位，上楼，这才发现茶水间的小冰箱横竖塞不下。

‘Bugger.’

　　“妈了个……”

He went down to the stock room. There were gluetraps lying about with dead mice and beetles on them, but it was cooler there than upstairs. Uneasily, he placed the fish in the drawer of an old metal filing cabinet.

　　他只好下楼，去地下车库，里面隔出来了一间小储藏室。储藏室里横七竖八摆着些粘鼠板，上面粘着死掉的小老鼠、小虫子什么的；但这里的空气比楼上冷。靠墙有个老旧的金属档案柜，他拉开一格柜子抽屉，把鱼放了进去，瞬间感到浑身不自在。

For the rest of the afternoon he worked on new rental listings. His eyes were burning when he stopped. It was late and he had to hurry to the tube station. Sweating and panting he emerged at Charing Cross just in time to get the six-forty.

　　之后那一下午，他埋头工作，整理新的楼盘资料。干完了活儿，眼睛都疼了。天色已晚，有点儿来不及了，他得抓紧时间去赶地铁。等他满头大汗、气喘吁吁赶到西直门，正好来了一趟车；地铁站的时钟显示：六点四十。

On the train, crowded with weekenders, he found himself thinking of Marie. Sometimes she would sing a nonsense song in his ear, her mouth close as if she were whispering a secret. He remembered the strange solitariness of her existence in London; her even stranger indifference to this solitariness. They couldn’t afford hotels so they used to pretend she was a client, interested in one of the properties listed with his firm. Every home they entered was a different world. Making love in the ‘sumptuously appointed Victorian maisonette’ or the ‘cosy garden flat’ was an adventure into a series of possible lives, each with its own reckless joys: one afternoon they were rich socialites; the next a pair of bohemian students… For three years he had felt the happiest man alive, and the luckiest. Marie never asked him to leave his family, and he had regarded this, too, as part of his luck.

　　礼拜五，地铁里挤满了等不及过周末的人；他发现，自己不知不觉想起了曼丽。有时，她会在他耳边讲个无聊的冷笑话，双唇紧贴着他的耳朵，仿佛在呢喃一个不能说的秘密。他想起她，想起她在北京这座城市里那份神秘的、孤独的存在感，想起她对这份孤独的不屑——这份不屑又使得她的存在更加神秘。他俩住不起宾馆，于是她就经常假装是他公司的客户，想要买房，要去看房。他带她去看不同的样品房，每套房都是一个不一样的家，每个家都是一个新世界，每个世界里都有一张床。在“奢侈浮华的古典别墅”里，在“温暖舒适的花园公寓”里，他俩翻云覆雨，体验着一段又一段新生活的冒险，享受着一次又一次别样的狂野激情：昨天下午两人还是腰缠万贯的社会名流，今天下午却又成了一对儿放荡不羁的学生情侣……整整三年里，他由衷感到自己是世上最快乐的人——也是最幸运的人，因为曼丽从未要求过他抛妻弃子——他庆幸自己运气太好。