|
第6章
The same uncertain light that greeted Smiley as he stepped gratefully out of the safe flat into the fresh air of that Hampstead morning greeted Ostrakova also, though the Paris autumn was further on, and only a last few leaves clung to the plane trees. Like Smiley’s too, her night had not been restful. She had risen in the dark and dressed with care, and she had deliberated, since the morning looked colder, whether this was the day on which to get out her winter boots, because the draught in the warehouse could be cruel and affected her legs the most. Still undecided, she had fished them out of the cupboard and wiped them down, and even polished them, but she still had not been able to make up her mind whether to wear them or not. Which was how it always went with her when she had one big problem to grapple with: the small ones became impossible. She knew all the signs, she could feel them coming on, but there was nothing she could do. She would mislay her purse, botch her bookkeeping at the warehouse, lock herself out of the flat and have to fetch the old fool of a concierge, Madame la Pierre, who pecked and snuffled like a goat in a nettle patch. She could quite easily, when the mood was on her, after fifteen years of taking the same route, catch the wrong bus and finish up, furious, in a strange neighbourhood. She pulled on the boots finally—muttering to herself “old fool, cretin,” and the like—and, carrying the heavy shopping bag that she had prepared the previous night, she set off along her usual route, passing her three usual shops and neglecting to enter any of them, while she tried to work out whether or not she was going off her head.
I am mad. I am not mad. Somebody is trying to kill me, somebody is trying to protect me. I am safe. I am in mortal danger. Back and forth.
斯迈利走出安全公寓,迎来了暗淡,变幻不定的光线,呼吸着汉普斯特德清晨的新鲜空气,感觉松了口气,心怀感激。奥斯特拉科娃也迎来了同样的光线,巴黎已是深秋,梧桐树上只剩下最后几片叶子。和斯迈利一样,她也一夜未眠。她在黑暗中起了床,仔细挑选衣服穿上,因为早上看起来更凉了,她一直在考虑当天是否应该穿上冬靴,因为仓库里的冷气可能会对她的双腿造成严重影响。尽管拿不定主意,她还是从柜子里翻出靴子抹去灰尘,并且擦得锃亮,但最后还是没能下定决心穿还是不穿。当她要努力解决一个大问题时,总是这样,小问题都变得难以解决。她知道所有的征兆,能感觉到它们的到来,却无能为力。她会把钱包放错地方,在仓库里记错账,把自己锁在公寓门外,还得去找门房拉·皮埃尔夫人,她是个老糊涂,说话像鸡啄米一样,鼻音很重,而且就像在荨麻地里乱撞的山羊一样讨厌。十五年来,她走的都是同一条路线。在这种情绪影响下,她很容易搭错车,最后气鼓鼓地来到一个陌生的街区。最后,她终于穿上了靴子,喃喃自语着“老傻瓜,白痴”之类的话,拎着前一天晚上准备好的沉重的购物袋,沿着老路出发了,路过了三家常去的商店,却一家也没进去,她在想自己是不是走错了路。我疯了。我没疯。有人要杀我,有人要保护我。我很安全,我有生命危险。她来来回回地想。
In the four weeks since she had received her little Estonian confessor, Ostrakova had been aware of many changes in herself and for most of them she was not at all ungrateful. Whether she had fallen in love with him was neither here nor there: his appearance was timely, and the piracy in him had revived her sense of opposition at a moment when it was in danger of going out. He had rekindled her, and there was enough of the alley cat in him to remind her of Glikman and other men as well; she had never been particularly continent. And since, on top of this, she thought, the magician is a man of looks, and knows women, and steps into my life armed with a picture of my oppressor and the determination, apparently, to eliminate him—why then, it would be positively indecent, lonely old fool that I am, if I did not fall in love with him on the spot!
But it was his gravity that had impressed her even more than his magic. “You must not decorate,” he had told her, with uncharacteristic sharpness, when for the sake of entertainment or variety she had allowed herself to deviate just a little from the version she had written to the General. “Merely because you yourself feel more at ease, do not make the mistake of supposing that the danger is over.”
She had promised to improve herself.
“The danger is absolute,” he had told her as he left. “It is not yours to make greater or make less.”
People had talked to her about danger before, but when the magician talked about it, she believed him.
“Danger to my daughter?” she had asked. “Danger to Alexandra?”
“Your daughter plays no part in this. You may be sure she knows nothing of what is going on.”
“Then danger to whom?”
“Danger to all of us who have knowledge of this matter,” he had replied as she happily conceded, in the doorway, to their one embrace. “Danger most of all to you.”
在接待这位爱沙尼亚小忏悔神父后的四个星期里,奥斯特拉科娃发现自己身上发生了许多变化,而对于大多数变化,她都心怀感激。她是否爱上了他,这并不重要。重要的是他及时的出现,他身上的海盗气质重新唤醒了她即将消失的反抗意识。他重新点燃了她的热情,他身上的小巷野猫的气质足以让她想起格里克曼和其他男人;她从来没有特别地控制自己的欲望。她想,而且,这位魔术师还相貌堂堂,了解女人,带着我的压迫者的照片进入我的生活,而且显然决心要除掉他——那么,像我这样一个孤独的老傻瓜,如果不当场爱上他,那才肯定不道德呢!
但比起他的魔力,他的严肃更让她印象深刻。“你不可以添油加醋,”有时她为了避免单调,说得更生动,讲的东西和她写给将军那封信的内容稍微有些差异。这时,他一反常态,尖锐地指出。“你不要仅仅因为心宽了点,就错误地以为危险已经过去了。”
她保证会小心的。
“危险是绝对的,”他离开时对她说。“不是你能让它变大或变小的。”
以前也有人跟她说过危险 但当魔术师说到危险时,她相信了他的话。
“我女儿会有危险吗?”她问。“亚历山德拉会有危险吗?”
“你女儿与此事无关。你可以肯定地说,她对发生的事一无所知。”
“那谁会有危险?”
“对我们所有知道这件事的人都有危险,”当她在门口开心地和他拥抱道别时,他回答道。“最危险的是你。”
And now, for the last three days—or was it two? or was it ten?—Ostrakova swore she had seen the danger gather round her like an army of shadows at her own deathbed. The danger that was absolute; that was not hers to make greater or less. And she saw it again this Saturday morning as she clumped along in her polished winter boots, swinging the heavy shopping bag at her side: the same two men, pursuing her, the week-end notwithstanding. Hard men. Harder than the gingery man. Men who sit about at headquarters listening to the interrogations. And never speak a word. The one was walking five metres behind her, the other was keeping abreast of her across the street, at this moment passing the doorway of that vagabond Mercier the chandler, whose red-and-green awning hung so low it was a danger even to someone of Ostrakova’s humble height.
She had decided, when she had first allowed herself to notice them, that they were the General’s men. That was Monday, or was it Friday? General Vladimir has turned out his bodyguard for me, she thought with much amusement, and for a dangerous morning she plotted the friendly gestures she would make to them in order to express her gratitude: the smiles of complicity she would vouchsafe to them when there was nobody else looking; even the soupe she would prepare and take to them, to help them while away their vigil in the doorways. Two hulking great bodyguards, she had thought, just for one old lady! Ostrakov had been right: that General was a man! On the second day she decided they were not there at all, and that her desire to appoint such men was merely an extension of her desire to be reunited with the magician. I am looking for links to him, she thought; just as I have not yet brought myself to wash up the glass from which he drank his vodka, or to puff up the cushions where he sat and lectured me on danger.
而现在,在过去的三天——要么是两天,或者是十天——奥斯特拉科娃发誓,她已经看到危险在周围聚集,就像她临终床榻前的影子大军。这种危险是绝对的,不是她能让它变大或变小的。这个星期六早上,当她穿着锃亮的冬靴,拎着沉重的购物袋,蹒跚地走在路上时,她又看到了危险:还是那两个男人,紧紧跟着她,周末也不放过。两个壮汉。比姜黄色脸的男人还要强壮。在总部坐着听审讯的就是这样的人。从不说一句话。一个在她身后五米远的地方走着,另一个在街对面,和她保持并肩而行,此刻正经过流浪汉梅西埃的杂货铺门前,他的红绿相间的遮阳篷挂得很低,即使奥斯特拉科娃这样个子不高的人也容易撞上。
她第一次不太情愿地注意到他们时,认为他们是将军的人。那是星期一,还是星期五?弗拉基米尔将军为我派来了他的保镖,她乐滋滋地想。一个危险的上午,她寻思着对他们做出什么友好的举动来表达感激之情:没人注意时,对他们报以彼此心照不宣的友好的微笑;甚至她要做一道法式汤,让他们在门口警戒的时候更容易打发时间。她想,两个膀大腰圆的保镖,就为了保护一个老太太!奥斯特拉科夫是对的:那位将军是个大丈夫!第二天,她又觉得那里根本没有人。她渴望有这样的保镖,只是反映她想与魔术师重聚的愿望。她想,我在寻找与他的联系;他喝伏特加用的杯子,我还没有勇气洗,他给我讲危险时坐过的垫子,也还下不了决心收拾一下。
|
|