Smiley's People汉译75

agent124

She sat the child on a chair. Where she stayed, contentedly cropping her biscuit.
There was the sound of a door slammed violently, followed by fast footsteps coming down the stairs.
“William’s right out of it, Max,” Stella warned, staring straight at Smiley. “He’s not political and he’s not slimy, and he’s got over his dad being a martyr. He’s a big boy now and he’s going to stand on his own feet. Right? I said ‘Right?’”
Smiley had moved to the far end of the room to give himself distance from the door. Villem strode in purposefully, still wearing his track suit and running shoes, about ten years Stella’s junior and somehow too slight for his own safety. He perched himself on the sofa, at the edge, his intense gaze switching between his wife and Smiley as if wondering which of them would spring first. His high forehead looked strangely white under his dark, swept-back hair. He had shaved, and shaving had filled out his face, making him even younger. His eyes, red-rimmed from driving, were brown and passionate.


“Hullo, Villem,” Smiley said.
“William,” Stella corrected him.
Villem nodded tautly, acknowledging both forms.
“Hullo, Max,” said Villem. On his lap, his hands found and held each other. “How you doing, Max? That’s the way, huh?”
“I gather you’ve already heard the news about Vladimir,” Smiley said.
她把孩子放在椅子上。她呆在那里，心满意足地吃着饼干。
有扇门被砰地一声关上了，紧接着是下楼的急促脚步声。
“威廉已经跟你的事情一点没关系了，马克斯，”斯黛拉直盯着斯迈利警告道，“他不懂政治，也不会说谎，他已经从他爸爸当烈士的阴影中走出来了。他现在是个大男孩了，他要自力更生。懂吗？听到我说的吗？”
斯迈利已经走到了房间的最里面，以便与门保持一定的距离。维廉故意大步走了进来，他仍然穿着运动服和跑鞋，比斯黛拉小十岁左右，有点太瘦小了，不足以保护自己。他坐在沙发边上，紧张的目光在妻子和斯迈利之间切换，似乎在猜测他们谁会先跳出来。他高高的额头在往后梳的乌黑头发衬托下显得格外白。他刮了胡子，脸显得更饱满了，也让他显得更年轻了。他的眼睛是棕色的，充满激情，因为开夜车，有点红眼圈。


“你好，维廉。”斯迈利说。
“威廉，”斯黛拉纠正他的称呼。
维廉绷着脸点点头，表示这两个称呼他都接受。
“你好，马克斯。”维廉说。他两手交叉，紧紧握着放在膝盖上。“你好吗，马克斯？就是这样，嗯？”
“我想你已经听说弗拉基米尔的消息了，”斯迈利说。

“News? What news, please?”
Smiley took his time. Watching him, sensing his stress.
“That he’s disappeared,” Smiley replied quite lightly, at last. “I gather his friends have been ringing you up at unsocial hours.”
“Friends?” Villem shot a dependent glance at Stella. “Old émigrés, drink tea, play chess all day, politics? Talk crazy dreams? Mikhel is not my friend, Max.”
He spoke swiftly, with impatience for this foreign language, which was such a poor substitute for his own. Whereas Smiley spoke as if he had all day.
“But Vladi is your friend,” he objected. “Vladi was your father’s friend before you. They were in Paris together. Brothers-in-arms. They came to England together.”
Countering the weight of this suggestion, Villem’s small body became a storm of gestures. His hands parted and made furious arcs, his brown hair lifted and fell flat again.
“Sure! Vladimir, he was my father’s friend. His good friend. Also of Beckie the godfather, okay? But not for politics. Not any more.” He glanced at Stella, seeking her approval. “Me, I am William Craven. I got English home, English wife, English kid, English name. Okay?”
“And an English job,” Stella put in quietly, watching him.
“A good job! Know how much I earn, Max? We buy house. Maybe a car, okay?”
“消息？请问什么消息？”
斯迈利没说话，有意慢慢来，只是注视着他，感觉他在承压。
“他失踪的消息，”斯迈利最后轻描淡写地回答道。“我听说他的朋友们在非社交时间给你打电话。”
“朋友？”维廉讨救兵似地看了斯黛拉一眼。“老流亡者，整天喝茶，下棋。谈政治？谈论疯狂的梦想？米克尔不是我的朋友，马克斯。”
他语速飞快，用英语说话让他很不耐烦，因为这门外语根本无法替代他的母语。斯迈利说话却慢声慢气，好像他有一整天的功夫。
“但弗拉迪是你的朋友，”他说道。“在成为你的朋友之前，弗拉迪是你父亲的朋友。他们一起在巴黎。同一个战壕的战友。他们是一起来英国的。”
这句话很有份量，作为回应，维廉瘦小的身躯好像爆发了一场动作风暴，做出各种各样的动作和手势。他的双手分开，情绪激动地划出一个又一个弧线，棕色的头发扬起又落下。
“当然！弗拉基米尔，他是我父亲的朋友。他的好朋友。也是贝琪的教父，知道吗？但不是为了政治。不再是了。”他瞥了一眼斯黛拉，寻求她的支持。“我，我是威廉·克雷文。我有一个英国家庭，英国妻子，英国孩子，英国名字。知道吗？”
“还有一份英国工作，”斯黛拉注视着他，轻声插了一句。
“一份很好的工作！知道我挣多少钱吗，马克斯？我们买了房子。也许还要买辆车，知道吗？“

Something in Villem’s manner—his glibness perhaps, or the energy of his protest—had caught the attention of his wife, for now Stella was studying him as intently as Smiley was, and she began to hold the baby distractedly, almost without interest.
“When did you last see him, William?” Smiley asked.
“Who, Max? See who? I don’t understand you, please.”
“Tell him, Bill,” Stella ordered her husband, not moving her eyes from him for a moment.
“When did you last see Vladimir?” Smiley repeated patiently.
“Long time, Max.”
“Weeks?”
“Sure. Weeks.”
“Months?”
“Months. Six months! Seven! At christening. He was godfather, we make a party. But no politics.”
Smiley’s silences had begun to produce an awkward tension.
“And not since?” he asked at last.
“No.”
Smiley turned to Stella, whose gaze had still not flinched.
“What time did William get back yesterday?”
“Early,” she said.
“As early as ten o’clock in the morning?”
维廉的某些举止——也许是他口若悬河的自辨，也许是他激烈争辩的劲头——引起了他妻子的注意，因为现在斯黛拉正像斯迈利一样聚精会神地观察着他。她开始心不在焉地抱着孩子，几乎心思完全不在孩子身上。
“你最后一次见到他是什么时候，威廉？”斯迈利问。
“谁，马克斯？见谁？我听不懂，求你了。”
“告诉他，比尔（威廉的爱称——译注）。”斯黛拉给丈夫下命令，眼睛一刻也不离开他。
“你最后一次见到弗拉基米尔是什么时候？”斯迈利耐心地重复道。
“很久了，马克斯。”
“几周？”
“当然，几个星期。”
“几个月？”
“好几个月。六个月！不，七个月！洗礼的时候，他是教父，我们开了个派对。但不谈政治。”
斯迈利的沉默开始制造出一种紧张气氛，令人感觉不自在。
“之后就没见过？”他终于开口道。
“没有。”
斯迈利转向斯黛拉，她依然没有收回凝视的目光。
“威廉昨天几点回来的？”
“很早，”她说。
“早上十点那么早吗？”

“Could have been. I wasn’t here. I was visiting Mother.”
“Vladimir drove down here yesterday by taxi,” he explained, still to Stella. “I think he saw William.”
Nobody helped him, not Smiley, not his wife. Even the child kept still.
“On his way here Vladimir bought a toy. The taxi waited an hour down the lane and took him away again, back to Paddington where he lives,” Smiley said, still being very careful to keep the present tense.
Villem had found his voice at last. “Vladi is of Beckie the godfather!” he protested with another flourish, as his English threatened to desert him entirely. “Stella don’t like him, so he must come here like a thief, okay? He bring my Beckie toy, okay? Is a crime already, Max? Is a law, an old man cannot bring to his godchild toys?”
Once again neither Smiley nor Stella spoke. They were both waiting for the same inevitable collapse.
“Vladi is old man, Max! Who knows when he sees his Beckie again? He is friend of family!”
“Not of this family,” said Stella. “Not any more.”
“He was friend of my father! Comrade! In Paris they fight together Bolshevism. So he brings to Beckie a toy. Why not, please? Why not, Max?”
“You said you bought the bloody thing yourself,” said Stella. Putting a hand to her breast, she closed a button as if to cut him off.
“有可能。我不在，我去看母亲了。”
“弗拉基米尔昨天坐出租车来过这儿，” 他解释道，还是对斯黛拉说的， “我想他看见威廉了”
没人帮他，斯迈利没有，他妻子也没有。就连孩子也一动不动。
“弗拉基米尔在来这里的路上买了一个玩具。出租车在巷子里等了一个小时，又把他送回了帕丁顿，他住在那里。"斯迈利说，“住”这个词他仍然非常小心地用的是现在时态。（英语的现在时态表示现在的情况，这里“住”这个词用现在时态，暗示弗拉基米尔还活着的意思——译注）
维廉终于又想出话来。“弗拉迪是贝琪的教父！”他又挥舞着手势争辩道，因为用英语几乎已经完全不能让他表达意思了。“斯黛拉不喜欢他，所以他必须像小偷一样来这里，知道吗？他给我的贝琪带来了玩具，知道吗？这已经是犯罪了，马克斯？哪条法律规定老人不能给教子带玩具吗？”
斯迈利和斯黛拉又一次都没有说话。他们都在等待着防御不可避免的崩溃的那一刻。
“弗拉迪是个老人，马克斯！谁知道他什么时候才能再见到他的贝琪呢？他是家人的朋友！”
“不是这个家的，”斯黛拉说，“再也不是了。”
“他是我父亲的朋友！和同志！在巴黎，他们一起为布尔什维主义而战。所以他给贝琪带来了一个玩具。真的，有什么不可以呢？有什么不可以，马克斯？”
“你说过这该死的东西是你自己买的，”斯黛拉说。她把手放在胸前，扣上一个纽扣，好像要把他的话打断。

Villem swung to Smiley, appealing to him: “Stella don’t like the old man, okay? Is afraid I make more politics with him, okay? So I don’t tell Stella. She goes to see her mother in Staines hospital and while she is away Vladi makes a small visit to see Beckie, say hullo, why not?” In desperation he actually leapt to his feet, flinging up his arms in too much protest. “Stella!” he cried. “Listen to me! So Vladi don’t get home last night? Please, I am so sorry! But it is not my fault, okay? Max! That Vladi is an old man! Lonely. So maybe he finds a woman once. Okay? So he can’t do much with her, but he still likes her company. For this he was pretty famous, I think! Okay? Why not?”
“And before yesterday?” Smiley asked, after an age. Villem seemed not to understand, so Smiley paced out the question again: “You saw Vladimir yesterday. He came by taxi and brought a yellow wooden duck for Beckie. On wheels.”
“Sure.”
“Very well. But before yesterday—not counting yesterday—when did you last see him?”
Some questions are hazard, some are instinct, some—like this one—are based on a premature understanding that is more than instinct, but less than knowledge.
Villem wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “Monday,” he said miserably. “I see him Monday. He ring me, we meet. Sure.”
Then Stella whispered, “Oh, William,” and held the child upright against her, a little soldier, while she peered downward at the haircord carpet waiting for her feelings to right themselves.
维廉转向斯迈利，竭力想寻求他的理解：“斯黛拉不喜欢那个老头，知道吗？她怕我和他再搞政治，知道吗？所以我没告诉斯黛拉。她去斯坦斯医院看她母亲，弗拉迪趁她不在的时候去看看贝琪，说声你好，不行吗？”绝望中，他竟一跃而起，挥舞着手臂表示抗议，但有些过火了。“斯黛拉！”他喊道。“听我说！弗拉迪昨晚没回家？听我说，我真的很遗憾！但这不是我的错，知道吗？马克斯！弗拉迪是个老人了。很孤独。那么也许他找了个女人。可以吗？那么他不能和她做什么，但他还是喜欢她陪他。我想他就是因为这个而出名的！可以吗？有什么不可以？”
“那昨天之前呢？”过了好一会儿，斯迈利才问道。维廉似乎没听懂，于是斯迈利把这个问题换个方式又问了一遍：“你昨天看到弗拉基米尔了。他坐出租车来，给贝琪带来了一只黄色的木鸭子。带轮子的。”
“没错。”
“很好。但在昨天之前——昨天不算——你最后一次见他是什么时候？”
有些问题是没有深思熟虑就问的，有些是出于直觉而问的，有些问题——比如这个——是基于一种不成熟的理解，比直觉多，但对于所问的事情还没有完全的了解。
维廉用手背擦了擦嘴唇。“星期一，”他痛苦地说道。“我周一见了他。他给我打电话，我们见面。没错。”
然后，斯黛拉低声说：“唉，威廉。”她把孩子直立着抱在怀里，像个小战士一样，一边低头看着发毛起圈地毯，等待自己的心情平复下来。