Red Paint

For a moment nobody answered. Ana stood behind the counter with a paper bag in her hand and felt her face go hot. It was Walter who spoke, from the kitchen doorway, in the flat, steady voice he used for customers who complained about the price of bread.

片刻之间，没有人回答。Ana手里拿着纸袋站在柜台后面，感到自己脸红了。是Walter在厨房门口开了口，用的是他应对抱怨面包价格的顾客时那种平淡、沉稳的语调。

“She’s working,” he said. “I asked her to come back. We had forty rolls last night, Jess, and half of them looked like they had been sat on. I need a baker. She’s the best one I’ve had.”

“她在工作，”他说，“是我叫她回来的。昨晚我们做了四十个小面包，Jess，其中一半看起来就像被人坐过一样。我需要一个面包师。她是我遇到过最好的。”

Jess looked at him as if he had started speaking a foreign language. “Four days ago you threw her out for lying to us. Now she’s back behind the counter with your keys. Did I miss something?” She waited. Nobody said anything. Walter looked at the floor, and Ana understood that he had not yet found a single one of the words he had promised to find.

Jess看着他，仿佛他突然说起了外语。“四天前你才因为她对我们撒谎把她赶走。现在她又拿着你的钥匙回到柜台后面了。我是错过了什么吗？”她等着。谁也没说话。Walter看着地板，Ana明白，他承诺过要找的说辞，一句也还没找到。

“Fine,” Jess said. “Whatever. It’s your bakery.” She took a roll from the basket on the counter without paying, the way she always did, and walked out into Bridge Street. She did not look at Ana once. The bell over the door rang behind her, very loudly, in the silence.

“行吧，”Jess说，“随便。这是你的面包店。”她像往常一样，没付钱就从柜台上的篮子里拿了一个小面包，走进了Bridge Street。她一眼也没看Ana。在沉默中，门上的铃铛在她身后大声响了起来。

Over the next few days, Bell’s Bakery slowly came back to life. Ana slept on Daniel’s sofa bed in the afternoons and walked to Bridge Street at half past two in the morning, through the empty town. The shelves were full again by ten to five. Daniel got his cheese rolls. Mrs Ward’s daughter got her birthday cake, three days late and twice as big, with an apology written on it in chocolate.

在接下来的几天里，Bell’s Bakery慢慢恢复了生机。Ana下午在Daniel的沙发床上睡觉，凌晨两点半穿过空荡荡的小镇，步行到Bridge Street。不到五点十个字（差十分五点），货架又摆满了。Daniel拿到了他的奶酪小面包。Ward太太的女儿拿到了她的生日蛋糕，迟了三天，大了一倍，上面还用巧克力写着道歉。

Walter sat in his chair by the table and gave instructions, and Ana followed them. They were polite and careful with each other. Every morning, when the shop closed at one, she looked at him and saw the same question in his face. And every morning he looked away, and went upstairs, and did not tell Jess.

Walter坐在桌子旁的椅子上发号施令，Ana照着做。他们对彼此客气又谨慎。每天早晨一点关门时，她看着他，总能在他的脸上看到同一个疑问。而每天早晨他都把目光移开，走上楼去，没有告诉Jess。

On Tuesday night, coming down early, Ana found him at the kitchen table with a pad of paper and a pen. The top page was covered in his big, shaking handwriting, crossed out line after line. Dear Jess, it began, and then, I should have, and then, The night of the, and then nothing. Around his chair on the floor lay a dozen crumpled balls of paper. When he saw her, he tore off the page, folded it very small and put it in his apron pocket.

星期二晚上，Ana早早下来，发现他坐在厨房桌旁，拿着便签本和钢笔。最上面一页写满了他那又大又颤抖的字迹，一行接一行被划掉了。开头写着：亲爱的Jess，接着是：我本应该，然后是：那天晚上的，接着就什么也没有了。他的椅子周围满地都是揉成团的废纸球。看到她时，他撕下了那一页，折得很小，放进了围裙口袋里。

“It’s easier with bread,” he said, without looking at her. “With bread you know when it’s finished. You knock on the bottom and it sounds hollow.” He stood up slowly and went to wash his hands. Ana picked up the crumpled papers and threw them in the bin without reading them. Some things, she thought, a person should be allowed to get wrong in private.

“做面包就容易多了，”他看也没看她说，“做面包时你知道它什么时候烤好。敲敲底部，声音听起来是空的就行。”他慢慢站起身，去洗手。Ana捡起那些揉皱的纸团，看也不看就扔进了垃圾桶。她心想，有些错事，人应该被允许私下里犯。