Chapter 23 23. Maureen and Harold

Maureen couldn't take it any longer.She told Rex that even if David disagreed, she would still go to Harold.She had just spoken to Harold on the phone, and he expected them to arrive in Lington the next afternoon.Although she knew it was too late to remedy the past, she would make a last attempt to persuade him to go home. At dawn, she picked up the car keys on the table and put the pink lipstick in her handbag.She was surprised to hear Rex call her name as the door was locked.He wears a sunhat and dark glasses and holds a hardcover map of Great Britain. "I think you'd need a directions man," he said. "According to the Automobile Association, we'll be there by late afternoon."

Along the way, Maureen hardly paid attention to the scenery outside the window.She was speaking, but she knew in her heart that no sentence was coherent, and the words that popped out one after another were just the tip of the iceberg that was full of emotions in her heart.What if Harold didn't want to see her?What if he was with other pilgrims? "What if you're wrong, Rex?" she said. "What if he really loves Queenie? Maybe I should write? What do you think? I think it might be clearer in the letter." .” After hearing no response, Maureen turned her head and saw Rex's pale face: "Are you okay?"

He nodded heavily, as if not daring to move. "You're passing three trucks and a coach," he said, "on a one-way street." Then he said that as long as he sat down, he'd be fine, and turned to look out the window. Soon they found Harold and the pilgrims.Someone arranged for them to have their photo taken with the tourist bureau in the vegetable market square, and Maureen walked into a small group of people.There was a tall man directing everyone to take their positions, an orangutan who seemed to need a chair, a pudgy woman eating a sandwich, and a slick young man.When she found Harold who looked like a stranger from the crowd, Maureen immediately put down all her weapons.She had seen his picture in the local paper and had collected the clippings to carry in her handbag, but seeing Harold "for real" as David had concluded caught her off guard.Of course he didn't grow taller or fatter, but looking at this weathered man, with black leather-like skin and curly hair, she suddenly felt that she was as ordinary and vulnerable as a piece of white paper.It was his life that made her tremble, as if at last he was the man he should have been.His "Pilgrim" T-shirt was stained and ripped at the neckline, and his loafers were faded, showing the shape of his feet.Harold suddenly met Maureen's gaze and was stunned.He said something to the tall man and walked over.

He shook his head and laughed in disbelief all the way to Maureen.He looked so bright that Maureen subconsciously looked away, unable to meet his full smile.She didn't know whether to meet her lips or her cheek, and hesitated at the last second, and finally Harold's beard scraped her cheek and kissed her nose.Everyone is watching. "Hi, Maureen." His voice was deep and determined.She felt her knees begin to give way. "How did you come so far to Darlington?" "Oh," she shrugged, "Rex and I wanted to take a drive." He looked around, his face glowing. "Jesus, is he here?" "He went to Smith's to buy folders, and then I plan to visit the railway museum and see the locomotive.”

He stood right in front of her, looking at her face without a trace of averting his gaze.She felt as if she was in the spotlight. "Look at the locomotive of the steam train," she added, because Harold was doing nothing but laughing.She couldn't help staring at his mouth. Even through the thick beard, she could still see that the line of his jaw was no longer rigid, and his lips were soft and deeply pink. An old guy shouted into the crowd through a megaphone: "Buy now! It's God's will! Consumption is the purpose of life!" He had no shoes on. The silence was broken, and Harold and Maureen both laughed, and she felt as if they were sharing a little secret, only the two of them in the world knew. "These people." She shook her head knowingly. "There are all sorts of people," said Harold.

What he said didn't have any contempt, nor did it mean to blame, but more to accept it generously, as if other people's strange behavior was a great thing, but it made her feel that they belonged to the same world people.She asked, "Any time for a drink?" She never said that, always said "Have a cup of Earl Grey" with a serious face. "I'd love to, Maureen," Harold replied.They chose a coffee chain on the first floor of a department store, because Maureen said the familiar is always more believable.The girl behind the counter stared hard at Harold, as if trying to remember where she'd seen him, which made Maureen both proud and embarrassed, as if she was superfluous.

"There's so much to choose from," Harold said, looking at the muffin cakes, "are you sure you don't mind paying for it, Maureen?" She didn't want to do anything but stare at him.It had been years since I had seen so much life in those blue eyes.He pressed his thumb and forefinger into the curly white beard, which was piled up like a hill.She wondered if the girl behind the counter would realize she was Harold's wife. "What would you like?" Maureen asked.I wanted to add "dear", but I was too ashamed to say it. He asked if he could have a Martian Bar cake and a Strawberry Frappuccino.Maureen gave a sharp laugh, as if finally releasing something that had been suppressed for a long time.

"I'll have a cup of tea, thank you," she said to the girl behind the counter, "with milk and no sugar." Harold smiled kindly at the girl, her nameplate pinned above the left breast of her black T-shirt.To Maureen's surprise, the girl's face turned red to the base of her neck, and she smiled sweetly at Harold. "You're the one on the news," she said, "the one on the pilgrimage. My friends think you're awesome, can you sign your autograph here?" She offered a ballpoint pen and held out her arm.When Harold signed his name on the girl's soft wrist with this permanent pen, Maureen was taken aback again. "All the best, Harold." He didn't even shake a hand.

The girl withdrew her hand and stared intently at the signature for a long time, then prepared drinks and cake, and put an extra scone on the plate. "I invite you," she said. Maureen had never seen anything like it.She asked Harold to lead the way, and the customers in the shop immediately backed away to make way for him, staring at him and discussing quietly with their mouths covered.There were three women her own age drinking tea in the corner, and Maureen wondered where their husbands were, playing golf?died?Or left their wives too? "Good afternoon." He greeted the crowd of complete strangers briskly.Harold chose a table by the window so he could keep an eye on the puppy left outside.It was lying obediently on the sidewalk gnawing rocks, as if it would enjoy itself while waiting.Maureen suddenly had a crush on the puppy.

Instead of sitting together, they sat face to face.Although she had been drinking tea with this man for forty-seven years, Maureen's hands still couldn't help shaking slightly when pouring tea.Harold gulped down the Strawberry Frappuccino through a straw, making a "hiss" sound when he sucked it, and his cheeks sunken.She waited politely for Harold to swallow his drink first, but waited a little longer, and spoke just when Harold wanted to speak. "Nice to meet—" "It's nice to see you—" Both of them smiled, as if they didn't know each other well. "No no—" he said.

"You first—" she said.Like hitting a car again, both of them lowered their heads and continued to drink tea.She wanted to add some milk, but her hands shook again, and a lot of milk spilled all at once. "Does anyone recognize you often, Harold?" Sounds like a TV interview question. "I'm most touched by the support of everyone, Maureen." "Where did you spend the night?" "In the wild." She shook her head in amazement. Harold must have misunderstood, and asked anxiously, "I don't smell, do I?" "No, no." She also answered anxiously. "I bathe in the river or the drinking fountain, but there's no soap." He had finished his cake and was cutting the scones.He eats like he sucks in one bite. She said, "I can get you some soap. I should have passed a Body Shop chain just now." "Thank you for being so thoughtful. But I don't want to take too much on the road." Maureen felt a little ashamed of her ignorance.She wanted to show him some color, but sitting here now, she was just an out-of-fashion gray. "Oh." She lowered her head.The pain came back, tightening her throat so she couldn't speak. Harold handed over a handkerchief, and Maureen wiped her face with the crumpled, warm handkerchief.It smells of Harold on it, a long time ago.There was no help at all, and tears welled up in an instant. "Because I saw you again," she said. "You look so nice." "You too, Maureen." "I'm not good, Harold. I'm just as abandoned. "She wiped her face again, but the tears kept slipping from her fingers.She was sure the girl behind the counter was watching them, and the customers in the store, and the husbandless ladies just now.Look, let them see enough. "I miss you, Harold. I wish you could come back." She waited nervously, blood rushing through her veins. Harold finally rubbed his head, as if trying to get rid of a headache or something. "you miss me?" "Yes." "You want me to go home?" She nodded.That would be too much to say.Harold scratched his head again and looked up at her.She felt that her internal organs were out of control, rolling inside her body. He said slowly, "I miss you too. But Maureen, I've done nothing in my life, and now I've finally tried something, and I have to make this journey. Queenie is still waiting, she has something for me." Faith, do you understand?" "Oh yes," she said, "I understand, of course I understand." She took a sip of her tea. The tea was cold, "I just—sorry, Harold—I don't know where I should put myself. I know you're a pilgrim now, but I can't stop thinking about myself. I'm not as good as you are." Unselfish, sorry." "I'm no better than anyone, really. Anyone can do what I do. But you have to let go. I didn't understand this at first, but now I do. Let go of what you think you can't do without Things like money, bank cards, mobile phones, maps, etc." He looked at her with bright eyes and a determined smile. She picked up the teacup again and realized that the tea was already cold when it touched her mouth.She wanted to ask if all pilgrims would abandon their wives, but she finally held back, squeezed out a sad-looking smile, and turned her head to look at the puppy who was still obediently waiting outside the window. "It's gnawing on rocks." Harold smiled, "It just likes it. Don't play with it by throwing stones. As long as it's the first time, it will think you like it very much and follow you all day long. It has a good memory." She smiled again, more sincerely this time. "Did you name it?" "It's a puppy. It doesn't seem right to call it anything. It's free and easy. Once you name it, it's like becoming a pet." She nodded, not knowing what to say. "Actually," Harold said suddenly, "you can come with us too." He held out his hand to her, but she didn't turn away.His palms were dirty and callused, but hers were pale and slender. Maureen really couldn't figure out how they could be intertwined.She let her husband hold her hand like this, and the rest of her body was numb. Pictures of the past flashed before her eyes, like looking at photos.On the first night after the marriage, he tiptoed out of the bathroom. His bare chest was so beautiful that she couldn't help but gasped loudly, but let him put his clothes back on in a hurry.In the hospital, he stared at their newborn baby son and opened his hands.And other pictures in the leather album that she had forgotten flashed before her eyes, only she could see them.She sighed. All gone.Now there is so much space between them.She saw Harold and her twenty years ago, sitting next to each other wearing sunglasses, but she couldn't touch them. His voice interrupted her thoughts: "Well, will you come, Maureen?" She gently broke away from Harold's hand and moved the chair back. "Too late," she murmured, "I don't think so." She stood up, but Harold didn't, and Maureen felt as if she had walked out the door: "There is a garden at home, and Rex. Besides, I didn't bring anything." "You don't need—" "I do," she interrupted him. Harold bit his beard and nodded without looking up, as if to say, I know. "It's time for me to go back. Also, Rex says hello to you. I brought you some plasters and a bottle of your favorite fruit drink." De was as far away as himself, "But shouldn't pilgrims use plasters?" Harold stooped to stuff her gift into his trouser pocket.His trousers hung empty at his waist: "Thanks, Maureen. I'll need it." "It would be selfish of me to tell you to give up. Forgive me, Harold." His head was so low, She almost thought he just fell asleep sitting up like this. A patch of soft, white back skin could be seen along his neck, untouched by the sun.She felt like she was being electrocuted, as if seeing him naked for the first time.When he looked up and met her gaze, she blushed. His voice was so soft, the words floated out like air: "I am the one who needs to be forgiven." Rex waited in the passenger seat with a cup of coffee and a donut wrapped in a napkin.She sat down next to him, took a breath, and tried not to cry.He offered him food, but she had no appetite at all. "I even said I didn't think so," she sobs softly, "I can't believe I said that." "Cry it all." "Thank you, Rex. But I've had enough crying and I don't want to cry anymore." She wiped away her tears and looked at the street. All kinds of people were busy, all men and women, old and young, walking farther and farther away, walking together.The world, crowded with couples, looks busy and confident.She said, "Many years ago, when Harold first met me, he called me Maureen. Then it became Arlene, and it was called me that way for years. Now it's Maureen again." Her fingers traced her lips. , trying to tell the lips to stop. "Do you want to stay?" Rex's voice said, "Talk to him again?" She inserted the car key into the lock: "No, let's go." As she reversed the car, she saw Harold.This stranger who had been her husband for so many years, and a puppy that bounced around him, and a group of followers she didn't know—but she didn't wave or honk.With no trouble, no courtesies, not even a good-bye, she left Harold and let him go on his way. Two days later, Maureen awoke to a hopeful clear sky and a breeze blowing through the leaves.This weather is perfect for washing things.She used a ladder to remove the curtains.Gently, sunlight streamed in and filled the room, as if finally breaking free from the shackles of the curtains.The curtains were left to dry that day. Maureen stuffed the curtains into plastic bags and donated them.