雙語讀劇：Call me by ...（一）44:我知道她很痛苦

I could just see Mafalda inspecting Oliver’s sheets every morning. Or comparing notes with Chiara’s housemaid. No secret could escape this network of informed perpetue, housekeepers.
I looked at Chiara. I knew she was in pain.
 
我能想象瑪法爾達每天早上檢查奧利弗的床單，或跟奇亞拉家的傭人交流信息的樣子。沒有任何秘密躲得過管家（也就是包打聽）的眼睛。
我看著奇亞拉。我知道她很痛苦。
 
Everyone suspected something was going on between them. In the afternoon he’d sometimes say he was going to the shed by the garage to pick up one of the bikes and head to town. An hour and a half later he would be back. The translator, he’d explain.
“The translator,” my father’s voice would resound as he nursed an after-dinner cognac.
“Traduttrice, my eye,” Mafalda would intone.
Sometimes we’d run into each other in town.
Sitting at the caffè where several of us would gather at night after the movies or before heading to the disco, I saw Chiara and Oliver walking out of a side alley together, talking. He was eating an ice cream, while she was hanging on his free arm with both of hers. When had they found the time to become so intimate? Their conversation seemed serious.
 
大家都懷疑他們之間有什么。有些下午，奧利弗說要去車庫的棚屋，騎一輛腳踏車到城里去。一個半小時就回來。找譯者，他這么解釋道。
“譯者……”父親正在慢慢品味一杯正餐后的白蘭地時，他的聲音回蕩著。
“譯者個鬼。”瑪法爾達拖著聲音說。有時候我們會在城里碰見。我坐在大伙兒晚上看完電影或上舞廳前愛去的那家咖啡店里，看見奇亞拉和奧利弗邊說話邊從路邊的小巷走出來。奧利弗吃著冰淇淋，她則兩手吊在他空出來的那只手臂。他們什么時候有空變得這么親密了？他們聊的話題似乎很嚴(yán)肅。
 
“What are you doing here?” he said when he spotted me. Banter was both how he took cover and tried to conceal we’d altogether stopped talking. A cheap ploy, I thought.
“Hanging out.”
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“My father doesn’t believe in bedtimes,” I parried.
Chiara was still deep in thought. She was avoiding my eyes.
 
“你在這里干什么？”他一看到我就說。
取笑是他作為偽裝和企圖掩飾我們已經(jīng)完全不講話的方式。低劣的伎倆，我想。
“出來玩兒。”
“你的就寢時間不是過了嗎？”
“我爸爸不相信就寢時間那一套。”我回避這個話題。
奇亞拉仍深陷在沉思里，回避我的眼光。