Three Hundred Rolls

On Friday night the town was very quiet. It was cold, and a thin rain was falling on the river. At a quarter to twelve Ana went down to the kitchen in her socks, carrying her trainers in her hand. She turned on only the small light over the table. Then she listened. Upstairs, behind Walter’s door, she could hear him snoring slowly and deeply.

金曜日のよる、町はとても静かだった。寒くて、川に細い雨が降っていた。十二時十五分前に、アナはくつ下をはいて、スニーカーを手で持って台所に下りた。テーブルのうえの小さな明かりだけをつけた。それから耳をすませた。二階のウォルターの部屋のドアの向こうから、ゆっくりと深いイビキが聞こえた。

She had prepared everything she could. The flour was ready in its big bags, and the trays were clean and stacked by the oven. She had written the plan on a piece of paper and stuck it to the fridge, next to the hospital letter. Rolls, then loaves, then the normal bread for the shop. Ana had read it so many times that she could see it with her eyes closed.

できる準備はすべて終えていた。小麦粉は大きな袋に入って用意され、きれいに洗った天板がオーブンの横に積まれていた。アナは計画を紙に書き、病院からの手紙のとなりの冷蔵庫に貼っていた。ロールパン、次にローフ、それから店のための普通のパン。目を閉じても見えるほど、アナはその計画を何回も読んだ。

At exactly midnight there was a very soft knock on the back door. Crumb lifted his head. Ana opened the door, and Michael was standing on the step in his long coat, with rain on his hat and a small bag in his hand. For a second neither of them said anything.

ちょうど夜中の十二時に、裏口のドアを静かにたたく音がした。クラムが頭を上げた。アナがドアを開けると、マイケルが立っていた。長いコートを着て、帽子に雨をつけて、手には小さな袋を持っていた。少しの間、二人は何も言わなかった。