“I don’t know,” he said, desperate, “I don’t know. A few times a week, I guess.”

“不知道，”他绝望地说，“不知道。一星期两三次吧，我猜想。”

　 “A few times a week!” I said, and then stopped. Suddenly I had to get out of there. I took my coat from the chair and crammed the bag into its inside pocket. “You’d better be here when I get back,” I told him, and left. (He was a bolter: whenever he thought Julia or I were displeased with him, he would try as quickly as he could to get out of our sight, as if he were an offending object that needed to be removed.)

“一星期两三次！”我说，然后停下来。忽然间我觉得我没办法待在屋里了，我从椅子上拿了大衣，把那个袋子塞在内侧的口袋里。“我晚一点回来的时候，你最好还待在这里。”我一说完就离开了。（他很会开溜，每回他觉得朱丽娅和我对他不满，就会设法尽快离开我们的视线，好像他是肇事的汽车之类的，必须要移走才行。）

　 I walked downstairs, toward the beach, and then through the dunes, feeling the sort of rage that comes with the realization of one’s gross inadequacy, of knowing for certain that you are at fault. It was the first time I realized that as much as he was two people around us, so were we two people around him: we saw of him what we wanted, and allowed ourselves not to see anything else. We were so ill-equipped. Most people are easy: their unhappinesses are our unhappinesses, their sorrows are understandable, their bouts of self-loathing are fast-moving and negotiable. But his were not. We didn’t know how to help him because we lacked the imagination needed to diagnose the problems. But this is making excuses.

我从后门下了楼梯，走向海滩，穿过沙丘，感觉到那种因为领悟到自己的极度不称职、确知自己有错而生出的狂怒。那是我第一次明白，就如同他跟我们相处时是两面人一样，我们跟他相处时也是两面人：我们看他时，只看我们想看的那一面，避免去看其他的。我们太没有能力应付这种事了。大部分人都很容易处理：他们的不快乐就是我们的不外乐，他们的悲伤可以理解，他们短暂爆发的自我厌恶很快就会过去，而且可以商量。但他的不是，我们不知道该怎么帮他，因为我们缺乏想象力去判断他的问题。但这是找借口。

　 By the time I returned to the house it was almost dark, and I could see, through the window, his outline moving about in the kitchen. I sat on a chair on the porch and wished Julia were there, that she wasn’t in England with her father.

等到我回到屋里，已经快天黑了，隔着窗子我也看得到他的轮廓在厨房里移动。我坐在阳台的一张椅子上，真希望朱丽娅也在这里。当时她去英格兰看她父亲了。

　 The back door opened. “Dinner,” he said, quietly, and I got up to go inside.

后门打开。“吃晚餐了。”他轻声说，于是我站起来进屋去。

　 He’d made one of my favorite meals: the sea bass I had bought the day before, poached, and potatoes roasted the way he knew I liked them, with lots of thyme and carrots, and a cabbage salad that I knew would have the mustard-seed dressing I liked. But I didn’t have an appetite for any of it. He served me, and then himself, and sat.

他做了我最爱吃的菜：把我前一天买来的海鲈鱼清炖，小马铃薯用我喜欢的方式烤过，再加上一大堆百里香和胡萝卜，还有紫甘蓝沙拉，我知道淋的一定是我喜欢的芥末籽酱汁。但是我毫无胃口。他帮我分好菜，然后是他自己的，我们坐下来。

　 “This looks wonderful,” I told him. “Thank you for making it.” He nodded. We both looked at our plates, at his lovely meal that neither of us would eat.

“看起来太棒了。”我告诉他，“谢谢你辛苦做了这些菜。”他点点头。我们看着各自的盘子，看着他做出来的美味食物，却都没吃。

　 “Jude,” I said, “I have to apologize. I’m really sorry—I never should have run out on you like that.”

“裘德，”我说，“我要道歉。真的很对不起——我真不该就这样跑掉的。”

　 “It’s all right,” he said, “I understand.”

“没关系，”他说，“我了解的。”

　 “No,” I told him. “It was wrong of me. I was just so upset.”

“不，”我告诉他，“是我的错。我太生气了。”

　 He looked back down. “Do you know why I was upset?” I asked him.

他又低头看着盘子。“你知道我为什么生气吗？”我问他。

　 “Because,” he began, “because I brought that into your house.”

“因为，”他说，“因为我把那个东西带到你的房子里。”

　 “No,” I said. “That’s not why. Jude, this house isn’t just my house, or Julia’s: it’s yours, too. I want you to feel you can bring anything you’d have at home here.

“不，”我说，“那不是原因。裘德，这栋房子不光是我的或朱丽娅的，也是你的。我希望你觉得可以带家里需要的任何东西来这里。

　 “I’m upset because you’re doing this terrible thing to yourself.” He didn’t look up. “Do your friends know you do this? Does Andy?”

“我生气，是因为你对自己做这么可怕的事情。”他没抬头，“你的朋友知道你这样做吗？安迪知道吗？”

　 He nodded, slightly. “Willem knows,” he said, in a low voice. “And Andy.”

他轻轻点了个头。“威廉知道，”他说，声音很低，“还有安迪。”

　 “And what does Andy say about this?” I asked, thinking, Goddammit, Andy.

“那安迪怎么说？”我问，心想，该死的安迪。

　 “He says—he says I should see a therapist.”

“他说——他说我该去做心理咨询。”

　 “And have you?” He shook his head, and I felt rage build up in me again. “Why not?” I asked him, but he didn’t say anything. “Is there a bag like this in Cambridge?” I said, and after a silence, he looked up at me and nodded again.

“那你去了吗？”他摇摇头，我又感觉怒气上涌，“为什么不去？”我问他，但他什么都没说，“剑桥市的房子里，也放了这样的袋子吗？”我说。他沉默了一会儿，抬起头来看着我点点头。

　 “Jude,” I said, “why do you do this to yourself?”

“裘德，”我说，“你为什么要对自己这么做？”

　 For a long time, he was quiet, and I was quiet too. I listened to the sea. Finally, he said, “A few reasons.”

有好一会儿，他都没吭声，我也没说话。我听着海浪的声音。最后，他说：“有几个原因。”