Chinese–English parallel text
冬季市集
The Winter Fair
DuoText
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Opening the reader…
冬季市集
The Winter Fair
足足有三秒钟,谁都没有动。Michael手里的那块大面包很烫,Ana甚至能看见热气冒出来。Jess的杯子还是空的。接着,Ana听到了自己的声音,又脆又快,就好像是别人在借她的嘴说话一样。
For three long seconds nobody moved. The loaf in Michael’s hands was so hot that Ana could see the steam rising from it. Jess’s glass was still empty. Then Ana heard her own voice, bright and quick, as if somebody else was using it.
“Jess!你起得真早。你还记得Mick吗?火车站见过的那个?”她把双手在围裙上擦了擦。“他是个面包师傅。从曼彻斯特来的,真正的手艺人。我请他来帮忙做冬季市集的订单。三百个小面包呢,Jess。我一个人根本做不完。”
“Jess! You’re up early. You remember Mick? From the station?” She wiped her hands on her apron. “He’s a baker. A real one, from Manchester. I asked him to help with the order for the winter fair. Three hundred rolls, Jess. I couldn’t do it alone.”
Jess看看Ana,又看看Michael。“我以为你在仓库上班,”她对他说。
Jess looked from Ana to Michael and back again. “I thought you worked in a warehouse,” she said to him.
Michael小心地把大面包放在架子上。“是的,”他说。他的声音现在很稳,比Ana的声音还要稳。“我以前做过面包。那是很久以前的事了。Ana找我帮忙,而且手艺我还没忘。”
Michael put the loaf down carefully on the rack. “I do,” he said. His voice was steady now, steadier than Ana’s. “I used to be a baker. A long time ago. Ana asked for help, and I still remember how.”
“那你们为什么半夜做,跟小偷一样?”Jess把杯子放在桌上,抱起了双臂。“爷爷知道吗?”
“And why are you doing it at midnight, like burglars?” Jess put her glass on the table and crossed her arms. “Does Grandad know?”
这正是Ana最害怕听到的问题。她吸了一口气。“不知道。千万别告诉他。你知道他的脾气,Jess。要是他发现有个陌生人在烤他的面包,他肯定会拖着生病的手,半夜三点跑下楼来自己做。医生说过不能干重活。他绝不会接受不认识的人的帮忙。他太要面子了。”
This was the question Ana had been afraid of. She took a breath. “No. And please don’t tell him. You know what he’s like, Jess. If he finds out that a stranger is baking his bread, he’ll come down here at three in the morning with his bad hands and try to do it himself. The doctor said no heavy work. He would never accept help from someone he doesn’t know. He’s too proud.”
Ana心里想,这句话里的每一个字都是真的,可每一个字又都是谎话。她说这话的时候,根本不敢看Michael。
Every word of it was true, Ana thought, and every word of it was a lie. She could not look at Michael while she said it.
Jess沉默了一会儿。然后,她慢慢地点了点头。“嗯。他确实会这样。他宁可让烤盘砸在脚上,也不会开口求人。”她看了看门边的六个装小面包的箱子,脸色变了。“等等。这些都是你们俩今晚做出来的?”
Jess was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly what he would do. He’d rather drop a tray on his foot than ask for help.” She looked at the six boxes of rolls by the door, and her face changed. “Wait. Did you two make all of these tonight?”
“三百个小面包,”Michael说,“还有五十个大面包。店里要卖的面包也快做好了。”
“Three hundred,” Michael said. “And fifty loaves. And the bread for the shop is nearly ready.”
Jess掀起一块布,看了看下面的小面包。它们做得极好,又圆又呈现出金色,个个都一样大。她拿了一个掰开,站着吃掉了半个,就像她平时吃东西一样。接着,她带着新的敬意看向Michael。“行吧,”她说,“确实特别好吃。我不告诉他就是了。不过我不走,留下来帮你们搬箱子。”
Jess lifted a cloth and looked at the rolls underneath. They were perfect, round and golden, all the same size. She took one, broke it open and ate half of it standing up, the way she ate everything. Then she looked at Michael with new respect. “OK,” she said. “That’s actually really good. I won’t tell him. But I’m staying. You need someone to carry boxes.”
于是在接下来的一个小时里,他们三个人一起在厨房里忙活着。Jess在睡衣外面套了一件毛衣,把大面包整齐地装进箱子里。Michael做完了店里要卖的面包。Ana把每样东西都数了两遍,记在单子上。谁也没有聊重要的事情。他们只聊面粉有多沉,搅拌机发出的像牛一样的叫声,还有市政厅里的桌子够不够用。
So for the next hour, the three of them worked together in the kitchen. Jess put on a jumper over her pyjamas and packed the loaves into boxes. Michael finished the bread for the shop. Ana counted everything twice and wrote it on the list. Nobody talked about anything important. They talked about how heavy flour was, and about the cow-noise of the mixer, and about whether the town hall had enough tables.
中途,Jess问Michael是在哪里学做面包的。“跟我父亲学的,”他没有抬头,一边揉面团一边说。Jess说她爷爷只教过她烤吐司,别的什么都没教。Michael的手停了一秒钟。接着,他又继续揉了起来。
Once, Jess asked Michael where he had learned to bake. “From my father,” he said, without looking up from the dough. Jess said that her grandad had taught her to make toast and nothing else. Michael’s hands stopped for a second. Then they started again.
Ana从桌子对面看着他们。父女俩肩并着肩,手上沾着面粉,聊着一些无关紧要的话。除了Michael,他们谁都不知道真相。这是她见过的最幸福的画面,也是最让人伤感的。她不得不去储藏室待了一会儿,免得别人看到她脸上的神情。
Ana watched them from the other side of the table. Father and daughter, side by side, with flour on their hands, talking about nothing. Neither of them knew it except Michael. It was the happiest thing she had ever seen and the saddest, and she had to go into the store room for a minute so that nobody could see her face.
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