Number Three

“I… I wanted to ask about the job,” Ana said. Her voice sounded thin and unsure, even to herself. “The one you mentioned in the café. If it’s still available.”

“Aku… aku ingin bertanya tentang pekerjaan itu,” kata Ana. Suaranya terdengar lemah dan ragu-ragu, bahkan bagi dirinya sendiri. “Pekerjaan yang Anda sebutkan di kafe. Kalau masih ada.”

“Of course it is.” Helen sounded pleased but not surprised, as if Ana had simply arrived at the time she had been expected. “Can you meet me this afternoon? Three o’clock, at number three Bridge Street. I think it would be easier to explain if you could see what we’re planning.” She paused. “I’ll make sure the heating is on. Those old houses are freezing.”

“Tentu saja masih ada.” Helen terdengar senang tetapi tidak terkejut, seolah-olah Ana memang datang tepat pada waktu yang diharapkan. “Bisakah Anda menemui saya siang ini? Pukul tiga, di Bridge Street nomor tiga. Saya rasa akan lebih mudah menjelaskan jika Anda bisa melihat rencana kami.” Dia terdiam sejenak. “Saya akan pastikan pemanasnya menyala. Rumah-rumah tua itu sangat dingin.”

Number three, Bridge Street. Directly across the road from the bakery, three doors up from Shah’s. Ana closed her eyes after the call. Of all the places in the world, Helen had chosen the one where everybody she was trying to avoid could watch her walk in.

Nomor tiga, Bridge Street. Tepat di seberang jalan dari toko roti, tiga pintu dari Shah’s. Ana memejamkan mata setelah telepon ditutup. Dari semua tempat di dunia, Helen memilih tempat yang membuat semua orang yang ingin dia hindari bisa melihatnya masuk.

Daniel was making toast when she told him. He stopped with the butter knife in the air. “Number three? You’re going to the enemy’s castle, in broad daylight, opposite the bakery?” Then he saw her face and put the knife down. “Sorry. Bad joke. You have to eat, Ana, and you have to pay rent somewhere. Nobody in this town has the right to judge you for listening to a job offer. Not even Priya.”

Daniel sedang membuat roti panggang saat Ana memberitahunya. Dia berhenti dengan pisau mentega masih di udara. “Nomor tiga? Kamu mau pergi ke istana musuh, di siang bolong, di depan toko roti?” Lalu dia melihat wajah Ana dan meletakkan pisaunya. “Maaf. Lelucon bodoh. Kamu harus makan, Ana, dan kamu harus bayar sewa tempat tinggal. Tidak ada orang di kota ini yang berhak menghakimi kamu hanya karena mendengar tawaran kerja. Bahkan Priya sekalipun.”

“Priya will judge me anyway,” Ana said.

“Priya tetap akan menghakimiku,” kata Ana.

“Probably,” Daniel agreed. “But she’ll feed you while she does it. That’s the kind of judging I can live with.”

“Mungkin,” Daniel setuju. “Tapi dia tetap akan memberimu makan saat melakukannya. Penghakiman seperti itu masih bisa kuterima.”

She went anyway. She walked down Bridge Street at five to three with her hood up and her eyes on the pavement, like a criminal returning to the scene. She did not look at the green door of the bakery. She did not look at Priya’s window, although she could feel Priya looking at her. She knocked on the door of number three, and it opened at once.

Ana tetap pergi. Dia berjalan menyusuri Bridge Street pada pukul tiga kurang lima menit dengan tudung kepala terpasang dan mata menatap trotoar, seperti seorang penjahat yang kembali ke tempat kejadian. Dia tidak melihat ke pintu hijau toko roti. Dia tidak melihat ke jendela Priya, meskipun dia bisa merasakan Priya sedang menatapnya. Dia mengetuk pintu nomor tiga, dan pintu itu langsung terbuka.

Inside, the house was empty and smelled of fresh paint and old stone. The Harrisons’ furniture had gone, and the walls were bare except for pale squares where pictures had once hung. Helen had turned the front room into a kind of office. There was a long table covered with drawings, two heaters glowing orange, and a coffee machine that looked more expensive than Daniel’s car.

Di dalam, rumah itu kosong dan berbau cat baru serta batu tua. Perabot keluarga Harrison sudah tidak ada, dan dindingnya kosong kecuali bekas segi empat pucat tempat lukisan pernah tergantung. Helen telah mengubah ruang depan menjadi semacam kantor. Ada meja panjang penuh gambar denah, dua pemanas yang menyala jingga, dan sebuah mesin kopi yang tampak lebih mahal daripada mobil Daniel.

In the middle of the table stood a model of Bridge Street, made of white card and clear plastic. Ana recognised the shape of the street at once: the slope down to the river, the old stone bridge at the bottom. But the houses were different. Where numbers three, five and seven now stood, there was one long, elegant building with large windows and a roof garden.

Di tengah meja berdiri sebuah maket Bridge Street, terbuat dari karton putih dan plastik bening. Ana langsung mengenali bentuk jalan itu: lereng menurun ke sungai, jembatan batu tua di ujung bawah. Tetapi rumah-rumahnya berbeda. Di tempat nomor tiga, lima, dan tujuh berdiri sekarang, ada satu gedung panjang yang anggun dengan jendela-jendela besar dan taman di atap.

On the ground floor, facing the river, there was a café with tiny white chairs and tables, and a sign made of a single strip of plastic: BAKERY. Ana looked at it for a long time. It was where Walter’s oven stood now. It was where Michael had learned to bake, standing on a chair at seven years old.

Di lantai dasar, menghadap ke sungai, ada kafe dengan kursi-kursi dan meja-meja kecil berwarna putih, serta papan nama dari sebilah plastik: BAKERY. Ana menatapnya lama. Di sanalah oven Walter berdiri sekarang. Di sanalah Michael belajar membuat roti, berdiri di atas kursi saat berusia tujuh tahun.