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 Nannette 兰丽缇
Nannette 兰丽缇
It was the silliest incident that brought Nannette into my life. I had been in my local supermarket and spent more than I should. When I reached the checkout girl I remarked, jokingly, that my money was all gone after I had paid for all the articles. On my way out through the main doors a girl suddenly appeared and asked me, that if I was really short of cash, she was willing to lend me some, in order for me to get home. I was very surprised and she was a rather attractive looking girl. Now, as it was hardly an everyday experience, having a gorgeous girl appear out of thin air and offer me money.
I quickly pulled myself together, "No. Yes thank you. But I was only joking; I do have some change indoors for my taxi fare. But please, would you let me take you for some tea and cakes, there‘s rather a nice restaurant quite close?"
"I‘m sorry, I can‘t just now. I just don‘t have time. But I go to the town library every Thursday. I could meet you outside. Say at two o‘clock? My name is Nannette by the way. What‘s yours?"
"Yes. Oh, my name is Edmond, but please call me Ed, most people do."
I held out my hand and grasped a small, delicate and very female hand. Then, after this most unconventional of introductions—she was gone. Just how I would have been able to pay for tea and cakes, considering my lack of funds, was a question I failed to consider in the excitement of the moment. But that is how I first met Nannette.
Our first meeting for tea was just a few days later. I was standing outside the library for ten minutes before she came running up sharp on two o‘clock.
"Oh, hello Edmond, I mean, Ed. Do you know somewhere we can go? Have you been waiting long?"
I noticed that she was carrying two rather large books. She seemed slightly breathless and she gave me the impression that she was somewhat 1)frail. Apart from the books she held an elegant and seemingly expensive, if a little old fashioned, handbag. She wore over her shoulders a short, black cloak or cape, edged with a delicate sky blue 2)motif.
"Yes. No, there is a rather good place about fifty yards away."
My words 3)stumbled out something like that in my attempt to answer her confused questioning. There was indeed a small establishment a little way off, a couple of paces down a side street. It was more like one of those numerous little refreshment places that one tends to see in small seaside towns; that are generally run by two 4)spinster sisters. 5)Gothic white script above the premises proclaimed: Black an White Tea Room.
We went in and sat by a small table set for two by the window. The place was completely empty and seemed unusually quite. The noise and traffic in the busy street outside was barely 6)distinguishable.
As I sat there for those first few moments with Nannette, I had a chance to really observe her. Her face was pale and her eyes were largish and a sort of amber colour. I would have said she was wearing little makeup if any at all. I could not help thinking that her face indicated some suffering or 7)adversity. There was something else, I was puzzled for a while, and then I recalled those words of Edgar Allen Poe: "There is nothing of Beauty that does not have some strangeness about it".
"Well, Nannette, judging by those great tomes you are struggling with, we have something in common. I have my own small collection of 8)antiquarian books and first editions my self".
A small, elderly woman appeared and we placed an order for a pot of tea and a plate of cream and chocolate cakes. She bustled off and the conversation resumed. She listened to me running on about books and authors, valuable and rare editions I had found and sold. Nannette‘s replies surprised and delighted me, she seemed so knowledgeable, although this seemed rather 9)precocious in one so apparently young. She seemed to possess a detailed understanding of the causes and development of the English Civil War. Her comprehension of 17th. Century England and the life of Charles the First was somewhat astonishing, 10)not to say a little 11)uncanny. There was no doubt that she knew her subject 12)inside out, as my questions concerning some of the major battles of the era and dates drew out. Several times during our conversation she would suddenly say, "What is the time, Ed.? I don‘t have much time."
I would glance at my watch and our conversation continued. After she had asked me this same question several times I asked her, "What do you do, Nannettee?"
There seemed to be a far away look in her eyes and some sadness when she replied, "Oh, I just look after people."
"I see. You must be a nurse." I remember remarking.
"I just care for people. But Ed, I really must go. I don‘t have much time."
Her repeated remark made me glance again at my watch and say, "It has just gone four o‘clock Nannette."
Moments later we were on the pavement outside. I touched her hand, she smiled, and then she was gone. So for several months we met at two outside the library, went to the quaint old tea-room, had tea and cakes and talked into the late afternoon. However, sooner or later the topic came around to the 17th. Century, The English Civil War, and of then, always Charles the First. On every occasion she always mentioned that she had not much time, more than once during the course of an afternoon. Apart from her seemingly obsession about time and my curiosity as to what she actually did; when she would always reply that she; looked after people, or she cared for people: I believe that a genuine affection grew between us.
And so it was every Thursday, or sometimes Tuesday, until my accident and my four months in hospital and the 13)complications after surgery. I knew of course that I would never see Nannette again—in this life 14)at any rate. Many months later when I was well on in my recovery, I noticed in a second-hand bookshop, a paperback book in a box of cheap, discarded historical romances. The title on the cover was "Nannette". The book was mostly rot, I knew that, but it was founded on historical fact. It was a tale of how a delicate, but strikingly beautiful and intelligent girl, from an apparently quite good family, was brought up in poverty, became a mistress to a king, and how at last she was cruelly rejected in turbulent times after gaining great wealth. She died in poverty in Paris after using what wealth and influence she had in saving the children of Loyalists from the 15)wroth of Cornwall. There was also a description in the novel of Nannette, the heroine. As I read it, I recalled my first afternoon sitting in the tea-room with my Nannette: there could be no mistake—it was she. I hurled the book from me and never opened it again.
Many months later I returned to the library and made my way slowly back to that side street where the tea-room was. I don‘t know what I expected to see, but the place was all boarded-up and there were shutters over the windows. I never went back. Now, whenever I see a book concerning anything to do with the last half of 17th Century England, I feel nothing but a sense of 16)repulsion. The period never had any great appeal to me anyway. I sometimes recall my afternoons with Nannette, and go over in my mind our conversations. But it is all a mystery to me. But then, what do I know? What does anyone know? I only know there are some things we can never understand—and, perhaps that is the best for us.
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一次极傻的意外让兰丽缇闯进了我的生活。那天我在附近的一家超市里大肆采购，不知不觉超出了预算。结账时我开玩笑地和售货员小姐说，付完款后我可是一分钱都不剩了。在我往超市大门走去的时候，一个女孩突然拦住我，说如果我真的没有钱的话，她可以借钱给我回家。我当时很惊讶，而她也长得很好看。一个迷人的小姐从天而降要借钱给我，我想这种好事我可不能天天都撞上。
不过我很快回过神来。“啊！不用了，谢谢你。我刚才只是在开玩笑。我还有一些零钱，足够打的士回家的了。但是，不知道我有没有这个机会，邀请你去喝下午茶呢？这附近有一家很不错的餐厅。”
“哦，很抱歉，现在不行，我没有时间。但是每个周四的下午我都会去社区图书馆，我可以在图书馆门口等你。两点钟怎么样？我叫兰丽缇，你呢？”
“哦，我叫艾德蒙，但是叫我艾德就行了，大家都这么叫我。”
说完我就和她握手告别，可以感受到她的手非常娇小柔嫩。就在这次极不寻常的偶遇之后，她走了。其实当时我口袋里已经没剩几个钱，怎么为下午茶付帐都是个问题，但是当时我实在太兴奋了，也根本没有想到过这个问题。这就是我认识兰丽缇的全过程。
几天后，我们第一次正式会面，一起喝下午茶。我在图书馆门口等了十分钟，在两点钟左右看到她匆匆忙忙地跑了过来。
“你好，艾德蒙，哦，不，艾德，你知道有什么地方我们可以去吗？你等了很久吗？”
我留意到她拿了两本厚厚的书，走得有点气喘吁吁，给我一种很虚弱的感觉。除了书，她还提着一个款式优雅，看起来价值不菲，但是不算新潮的手提包。她披着一件短短的镶天蓝色边的黑斗篷。
“是的。哦，不是，附近有家不错的餐厅，离这大概五十码左右。”
回答她那一连串的问题令我有点结结巴巴。附近横街上的那家餐厅，有点像那种海边小镇上提供小吃和饮料的小店，走几步就到了。餐厅由一对未婚的老姐妹经营，墙上有一行哥德式的字体写着：“黑白茶室”。
我们走进茶室，选了一张靠窗的两人桌坐下。店里没有其他顾客，出乎寻常地安静，几乎听不见窗外车来人往的喧嚣。
坐下来后，我有片刻的时间仔细打量兰丽缇。她脸色苍白，眼睛挺大的，琥珀色，几乎完全没有化妆。我总觉得她的脸掩藏着某种痛苦或者不幸，还有其他东西。一刹那间我觉得有点迷惑，想起了艾德加·艾伦坡的那句诗：“没有一种美丽的事物是不带点陌生感的。”
“兰丽缇，从你阅读的那些大部头看来，我们有一些共同点。我也收集了不少古书和初版书。”
这时一位身材瘦小、上了年纪的女人走了过来，我们点了壶茶，一碟奶油和巧克力蛋糕。女人走开后，我们继续谈话。兰丽缇听着我滔滔不绝地评论各种书、作家，和找到过或出售过的珍稀版书籍。兰丽缇的回应令我又惊又喜，以她的年纪，她出人意料外地知书达理。她似乎对英国内战的来龙去脉尤其熟识，对十七世纪英格兰和查里一世之了解更加令我惊叹，甚至觉得有点不可思议。我的问题涉及到那些时代的部分主要战争和具体日期，可见她对那段历史了解得十分透彻。好几次在我们的谈话过程中，她突然问：“艾德，几点了？我没多少时间了。”
通常我会看看表，然后继续我们的话题。在她再问了同一个问题几次后，我问她：“你是做什么的，兰丽缇？”
这时她的目光显得迷蒙，甚至有点忧伤：“哦，就是照顾别人。”
“我懂了，你一定是护士。”我记得自己这样说。
“就是照顾人而已。艾德，我真的得走了。我没有多少时间了。”
我再看看表，说：“才刚过四点，兰丽缇。”
后来我们走出茶室，在人行道上告别。我握住她的手，她笑了笑，走了。在接下来的几个月里，我们总在图书馆外碰头，然后还是去那家茶室喝茶、聊天，直至傍晚。可是，每次谈着谈着，话题总会绕回到十七世纪、英国内战和查理一世。每次她都会重复几次说她没有多少时间了。除了她对时间的执著，以及我对她的职业的好奇（每次她总说自己从事照顾别人的工作）之外，我相信我们之间有一种真挚的感情在滋长。
于是我们在每个星期四，有时是星期二见面，直到我出了一次意外，花了四个月的时间入院动手术和治疗并发症。我知道我和兰丽缇此生不会再见了。又过了许多个月，我已经逐渐康复，一次偶尔在一家二手书店一个装满廉价古老爱情小说的箱子里，看到一本名为《兰丽缇》的平装书。我可以看出书的内容并不怎么样，但却是根据史实撰写的。故事讲述一个纤细但是异常美丽和智慧的女孩，来自一个有教养的家庭，在贫穷中被抚养成人，后来成为国王的情妇，获得巨额财富，却在那动荡的年代残酷地不容于世。为了从盛怒的康华里候爵手中救出效忠派的后代，她耗尽了自己的财富和权势，最后贫困交加死在巴黎。书中还有一段对女主角兰丽缇的说明。在我阅读说明的时候，我想起了和我的兰丽缇第一次在茶室里见面的情景：不会错了，一定是她。我把书丢掉，再没有翻开。
又过了许多个月，我重新来到图书馆，慢慢地步行至那家茶室。我也不知道自己希望看到什么，但是那个地方已经全部装上了挡板，窗户也挂起百叶窗帘。从此以后我再没回去了。现在，每当看到任何有关十七世纪英格兰的书，我都会很抵触，反正我对那段历史一向不大感兴趣。有时候我也会想起那些和兰丽缇一起度过的下午，回忆我们的谈话。但一切都成了一个谜。我知道多少？我们每个人又知道多少？我只知道有些事情是我们永远无法理解的，但这对我们可能是最好的。 |
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君子之过也，如日月之食也，过也，人皆见之；更也，人皆仰之！ |
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