Chapter 22 Chapter 21

Like other churches, the scent of waxed wood and the dampness of stones are what fill the nostrils.As she turned and closed the door softly, she knew in her heart that the church was almost empty.The priest's words and echoes intertwined.She stood against the door—it was half hidden by the holy water bowl—so that her eyes and ears could adjust to the gloom and echoes within, and then went to the back row, moving quietly to the end, where she could still see the altar.She has participated in many weddings in the family, but she was too young to go to the luxurious wedding ceremony of Uncle Cecil and Aunt Hermione in Liverpool Cathedral, but Hermiona's figure is as exquisite as her hat, She could still tell it from the first row.Next to Hermione, sandwiched between the estranged parents, are Pierrot and Jackson.The two guys are skinny and have grown five or six inches taller.On the other side of the aisle were three members of the Marshall family.That's all the guests.A complete family ritual, without any social version of the reporter.They didn't invite Briony either.Briony knew the whole process well, and knew that the most important moment had not been missed.

"Secondly, according to the teaching of the Lord, it also atones for our sins, eliminates fornication, and those who could not be united may marry without ever dishonoring the Body of Christ." Against the backdrop of the priest's stately white robes, the couple stood facing the altar.The bride is dressed in a traditional plain dress. From the back row, she should be wearing a thick veil.Her hair was tied in a mischievous single braid, which hung down her back from a pile of shaggy muslin.Marshall stood upright, and the line of the dress with shoulders added against the priest's white robe became more and more elegant.

"Again, according to the teaching of the Lord, marriage requires the husband and wife to love each other, help each other, and comfort each other..." Briony touches the memory, weaves the details, as if stroking the rash on the skin, the grime on the skin: Lola rushes into her room with tears on her face, with a bruised and swollen wrist; Her face was full of scratches; in the night by the lake, Lola kept silent, letting the eager, funny, old-fashioned cousin who couldn't even distinguish reality from the story in her mind send the perpetrator to escape safely.Poor helpless and frail Laura wears a pearl scarf, sprinkles rose water, longs to get rid of the last shackles of childhood, and hastily tricks herself into falling in love so as not to be humiliated, while Briony insists on negotiation and reprimand At that time, she firmly believed in her beautiful marriage.Laura, who was raped and possessed just after growing up, wants to marry the person who raped her. What a wonderful marriage it must be.

"...If anyone can give a reason why this couple cannot legally marry, please speak up now, or stay silent forever." Could it be true? She was really going to stand up at this moment, with an empty clenched stomach and a restless heart, and walked frailly, in a cape and a tiara, down the aisle between the benches In the middle of the aisle, like the Bride of Christ, with a firm and indistinguishable voice, to the altar, to the gaping-mouthed priest whose long past career has never been interrupted, to the elongated The guest at the neck, to the pale newcomer, laying out her reasons, presenting her giri? She did not plan, but this question in the Prayer Book—she had forgotten—was a Great provocation.And what was the obstacle? Now, at the altar of the most sane church, she finally had the opportunity to speak out all her grievances and cleanse herself of all her faults in public.

But the scratches and bruises had long since healed, and everything she had ever said at that time was contradicted by the facts.The bride had her parents' permission and didn't look like a victim either.And of course that's not all; one is a tycoon in the chocolate industry, the founder of Amo.It was time for Aunt Hermione to rub her hands again and again.Did Paul Marshall, Laura Quincy, and she, Briony Tallis, conspire silently to send an innocent man to prison? And it was she who spoke the words that impugned him , was read in Aziz's court in her name.The judgment has been executed, the debt has been discharged, and the resolution has entered into force.

She was still sitting on the seat, her heart was beating faster and faster, her palms were constantly sweating, and she lowered her head even lower. "I request and allow you two, if you know any reason why the two of you cannot be legally united through marriage, please confess at this moment, knowing that at the end of the judgment, all the secrets of the human heart will not be hidden." In any case, it is still far away from the final judgment, when only Marshall and his bride know the original truth, which has long been safely surrounded in the mausoleum of their marriage.After everyone who knows is dead, this secret will be safely hidden in the dark forever.Every word at the wedding is a new brick for this mausoleum.

"Who brought this woman into marriage with this man?" Uncle Sicil, who looked like a bird, walked forward quickly, no doubt he wanted to complete his task as soon as possible, so as to return to the sanctuary of All Souls College, Oxford.Briony listened carefully to Marshall and Laura repeating the pastor's words successively, trying to hear if there was any hesitation in the words.Laura's words are sweet and sure, while Marshall's is low, sonorous, and seemingly defiant.How sexy and expressive the voice echoed before the altar when he said "I worship you in my flesh"!

"Let's pray." The seven figures in the front row bowed their heads, and the pastor took off his tortoise-like glasses, raised his cheeks, closed his eyes, and prayed to the kingdom of heaven with his dull and sad singing. "O eternal God, the creator and protector of mankind, the bestower of all spiritual and moral principles, and the creator of eternal life; please give your blessing to your servant, to this man and this woman..." The pastor put back his glasses, announced that they were a married couple, and prayed to the Holy Father, Son, and Holy Spirit after which the church was named, and the last brick was completed.A few more prayers followed, a psalm, the Lord's Prayer and a long prayer, and the slow-down tones of consecration boiled down to a melancholy conclusion.

"...his infinite grace descends upon you, exalts and protects you, delights him with your body and soul, and ends your life in divine love." The priest turned and led the newlyweds down the aisle, followed by the crowd, as triads cascaded from the organ.Briony knelt down and pretended to pray, but when the procession approached, she stood up and turned to face them.The pastor seemed to be in a hurry, walking far ahead, several feet away from the crowd.When he caught sight of Briony to the left, he greeted with a small, kindly nod, but was curious.Then he strode forward and opened a door.A beam of sunlight slanted where she stood, illuminating her face and headdress.She wanted everyone to see it, but she didn't want to see it all at a glance.Everyone can see clearly.Laura walked on the side close to Briony, raised her head, and met her eyes.Her veil had been lifted long ago, and her freckles disappeared, but her appearance remained unchanged.However, she has grown a little taller, her face has become rounder, softer and more beautiful, and her eyebrows have been trimmed very thinly.Briony just stared.She just wanted Laura to know that she was coming to the wedding, and she wanted Laura to wonder: why? Under the direct sunlight, it was hard for Briony to see clearly, but the moment the bride frowned, there was a distinct flash of displeasure on her face.Laura pouted, cast her eyes forward, and left.Paul Marshall saw her too, but did not recognize her, nor did Aunt Hermione and Uncle Cecil, who had not seen her for many years.On the other hand, the twins who were walking at the end of the line and pulled their school trousers up to half the sky were very happy to see her. They made faces at her uniform, rolled their eyes funnyly for a while, and stretched out their hands to yawn for a while.

Soon she was alone in the church, save for the organist, who was enjoying himself out of nowhere.The wedding ended too quickly, as if nothing had been achieved.She stood there, unwilling to go out of the church, feeling a little silly in her heart.Daylight, the tedium of domestic gossip, would have worn her out, though there had been ghostly flashes.Nor did she have the courage to face the confrontation.How was she going to explain this uninvited behavior to her uncles and aunts? Maybe it would offend them, maybe it wouldn't—it would be worse.They would probably take her to a restaurant for breakfast, which would be torture.Paul Marshall and his wife will surely feel hatred, and Hermione will not be able to hide her contempt for Sicil.Briony lingered for another minute or two, as if attracted by the music, but then, annoyed at her cowardice, ran out on the porch.The chaplain spread his arms and hurried across the common, now a hundred yards away.The newlyweds had also gotten into the Rolls-Royce, and Marshall was turning around at the wheel.She was sure they saw her.When changing gears, the car screeched—probably a good sign.As the car pulled away, she saw Lola's white figure nestled in the driver's arm through the side window.Others disappeared into the woods altogether.

Looking at the map, she knew that Belham was at the other end of the common, which was the direction the pastor was walking, not far from here.Since it was not far away, she didn't want to go any further.It's coming soon anyway.She was hungry and thirsty, and her heels were shaking, sticking to the back of her shoe.The weather is getting warmer.She would cross a large, treeless grassy field with straight asphalt paths and public shelters.There is a stage in the distance, and some men in black uniforms are constantly walking around on it.At this time, she thought of Fiona, who gave herself the rest day.She thought of the afternoon they had spent in St. James' Park.Although it was only a few days ago, thinking about it now, it is so far away and simple.Briony was still standing in the shadow of the porch, thinking about the little presents she was going to buy for her friends—delicious food, a banana, some oranges, and Swiss chocolate.Gatekeepers know how to get these things.She had heard them say that as long as you have money, you can buy anything you want.She watched the steady stream of vehicles and people circle the common, following the path she was supposed to take.She thought about food—ham and bread, poached eggs, a roast chicken leg, thick Irish stew, lemon meringue, a cup of tea.Suddenly, she realized that the annoying music behind her stopped abruptly.In this moment of silence, the whole person seemed to be free.At this moment, she decided that breakfast must be eaten.But there are no storefronts along the way, and only apartments made of dark orange bricks are on both sides of the road. After a few minutes, an organ player came out of the church.The man held his hat in one hand and a large bunch of heavy keys in the other.She wanted to ask him how to get to the nearest coffee shop, but the nervous man was immersed in the music, as if he wanted to ignore her existence.He closed the door heavily, leaned over and locked it, then buttoned his hat and left in a hurry. Perhaps, this is a harbinger of planned bankruptcy.She walked back down Clapham Street.It's time for breakfast and a second thought.She passed a drinking trough near the subway station, and she really wanted to dip her face in it.She found a drab little shop with stained windows and cigarette butts on the floor.But the food probably wouldn't be worse than what she usually eats.She ordered a cup of tea, three slices of toast, and some margarine and pink strawberry jam.Because of her low blood sugar, she added a lot of sugar to the tea.But the sweetness still cannot cover up the taste of the disinfectant in the tea. After the second cup, she felt better.This tea has a moderate temperature and can be drunk in one gulp.Then, she went to the bathroom.The toilet is behind the coffee shop, across a cobbled courtyard.The stench of the seatless bathroom was unbelievable, but for a trainee nurse, that was nothing.She put some toilet paper on the back of her shoes, which kept her going for the rest of the mile or two.Inside the brick wall was a washbasin with a tap and a gray lozenge of soap, which she thought best left alone.Turn on the faucet, and the sewage splashed directly on the cheeks.She wiped dry on her sleeve and brushed her hair.Without a mirror, she can only imagine her face against the brick wall.However, lipstick cannot be wiped off.She stroked her face with a wet handkerchief for a while, and patted it a few times to make her face rosy.She is going to see her dear sister.But she doesn't seem to exist when making this decision. She leaves the coffee shop.As she walked along the common, she felt the distance between herself and her alter ego widen.That real self was walking back to the hospital.And this Briony, who was walking towards Belham, might just be a illusory ghost.This unreal feeling seemed to intensify when she walked to another street half an hour later.This street looked more or less like the main street which had just been left behind.The whole of London seems to have no center, it is just a collection of gloomy towns.She made up her mind never to live in such a place. The street she was looking for was three intersections away from the subway, and the subway stations were all the same.The Edwardian townhouses, dilapidated, covered with mesh curtains, were half a mile long.Villa Dudley No. 43 is in the middle of the street.Apart from the old Ford No. 8, it has no other characteristics to speak of.The wheelless cart, supported on bricks, occupied the entire front of the garden.If there is no one inside, she can leave if she wants.In this way, I have come here myself.The doorbell was broken.She knocked on the door twice, then stood still.She heard an angry cry from a woman, followed by the slamming of a door and the sound of footsteps.Briony took another step back, trying to retreat into the street.After fumbling for the lock and sighing impatiently, a tall, sharp-faced woman in her thirties opened the door.She strained too hard and was out of breath.The woman looked angry. It seemed that she had been interrupted during the quarrel just now, and she hadn't adjusted her expression at the moment—her mouth was open, and her upper lip was slightly crooked.She let Briony in. "Are you alright?" "I want to see Miss Cecilia." After hearing this, her shoulders immediately collapsed, and she turned her head back, as if trying to restrain herself from swearing.She looked Briony up and down. "You look a lot like her." Briony stared at her blankly, bewildered. The woman let out another sigh, almost spitting, and walked across the hall to the foot of the stairs. "Cecilia, there's someone at the door," she called. She walked back to the door.Halfway down the corridor, she shot Briony a contemptuous look, slammed her door behind her, and disappeared. The room was silent.Briony looked through the front door and onto a patch of floral linoleum.The first seven or eight steps were covered with crimson carpets.The copper pillars of the third step are gone.In the middle of the hall is a semi-circular table against the wall. On the table is a polished wooden letter rack similar to a bread rack, and there is nothing inside.Carpet ran from the stairs to the front of the door at one end, which had frosted glass.This door leads to the kitchen at the back. The wallpaper in the room is also patterned. There are three roses mixed with some snowflakes on a bunch of flower branches.From the door to the stairs, she counted, there were fifteen roses and sixteen snowflakes in total.This seemed ominous. She heard a door upstairs open.Perhaps it was the same door that she had slammed shut when she knocked just now.Then there was the sound of creaking up the stairs.A pair of feet in thick socks appeared, showing pale skin, and a blue nightgown she recognized.This is Cecilia.But because of her disheveled clothes, she did not go downstairs, but looked down from the side of the corridor, wanting to confirm who was at the door.It was a while before she recognized her sister, and she walked slowly down the three flights of stairs.