Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Three

"Cecilia, are you a ward nurse now?" "Yes, I'm the ward nurse." She made a final decision and ended the topic at once.Although they had a common occupation, they failed to form a bond.There are no ties to speak of.The sisters had nothing to say until Robbie came back. Finally, she finally heard the sound of the bathroom door lock opening.He whistled across the balcony.Briony moved from the doorway to a dark corner at the other end of the room.But as soon as he came in, she came into his sight.He had already half-raised his right hand, wanting to shake hands with her, and his left hand was about to close the door behind him.Even if this is an act of sudden realization, there is no drama at all.As their eyes met, his hands dropped.He continued to watch her and let out a long sigh.No matter how terrified she was, she felt she couldn't look away.She smelled the faint fragrance of his shaving soap.In front of him, he looked much older than before, especially around the eyes.She couldn't help but secretly startled.Is it all her fault? Could it be caused by the war too?

"Ah, so it's you." He finally spoke.He closed the door behind him with his foot.Cecilia has come to his side.He stared at her. She gave a detailed overview, but even if she wanted to, she could not bear her sarcasm. "Briony is going to tell everyone the truth. But she wants to see me first." He looked back at Briony. "Do you think I'm here?" After hearing this, her first reaction was don't cry.At that moment, nothing could have shamed her more than this.How is she feeling at the moment? Is it gratification? Or shame? Or self-pity? She doesn't know which kind of feeling it is.Whatever it was, it was coming at her right now.It rose suddenly like a calm wave, tightening her neck so that she could not speak.So she tried to control it and bit her lip.This feeling finally disappeared.She is safe and sound.There were no tears, but her voice was low and full of pain.

"I don't know if you're still alive." "If you want to chat, please sit down," Cecilia said. "I don't know if it will work." He walked impatiently to the next wall, about seven or eight feet away.He leaned his back against the wall, folded his arms across his chest, and looked from Briony to Cecilia.Suddenly he was walking across the room to the bedroom door, he turned around and tried to walk back, but he changed his mind and stood there with his hands in his pockets.He was so tall that the room seemed to shrink in comparison.In this seemingly suffocating space, he was like a trapped animal, desperate.He took his hands out of the middle pockets, stroked the hair on the back of his neck, put them on his hips, and put them down again.This action keeps repeating.Briony knew that he was angry, that he was burning with anger.

"What are you doing here? Don't tell me about Surrey. Nobody's stopping you. Why are you here?" "I'm going to speak to Cecilia," she said. "Really? Say what?" "Tell me about the outrageous thing I did." Cecilia walked over to Robbie. "Robbie," she whispered. "Honey," she put her hand on his arm, but he shook her hand away. "I don't know why you let her in," he said, turning to Briony. "I'll tell you the truth. I'm torn between wringing your neck and pushing you out of the room. Throw it down the stairs?"

If it weren't for her recent life trials, she would have been intimidated.Sometimes she heard soldiers in the ward lash out at their despair.It would be foolish to reason with or comfort them when they are angry.The raging waves must be vented.It is best to stand aside and listen patiently.She knew that even getting up to say goodbye now would irritate him.So she simply confronted Robbie and waited for her due treatment! But she was not afraid of him, she was not afraid of his use of force. He didn't raise his voice, but his voice was clearly full of indignation. "Do you know what it looks like inside?"

She pictured the tall little windows in the craggy masonry walls.Like people's imagination, she also thought of the sufferings in hell.She shook her head slightly, trying to focus on his change in order to steady herself.He appeared to be taller than before, an impression given by the way he held his chest out and his belly in.No Cambridge student stood as straight as he.Even when distracted, his shoulders were thrown back and his jaw was thrown back like an old-fashioned boxer. "No, of course you didn't. You were happy when I was in there, weren't you?" "No!"

"But you have done nothing." She had imagined this conversation over and over again, like a child anticipating a beating.Now, it's finally happening, but it doesn't seem like she's here.She watched, as if from a distance, indifferently.She was insensitive, but she knew his words would hurt her in the end. Cecilia has stood back.Now, she put her hand on Robbie's arm again.Although Robbie looks stronger, he has lost weight.He is muscular and strong, resolute and rough.He turned slightly towards her. "Remember," Cecilia began, but he cut her off. "Do you think I raped your cousin?"

"No." "Did you think so at first?" "Yeah, uh, no, I'm not sure," she faltered. "Then why are you so sure now?" She hesitated.She knew that if she answered, she would have to defend herself, to make excuses for herself, and in doing so she might add fuel to his fire. "I'm growing." He stared at her, his lips parted slightly.He had really changed in five years: the sharpness in his gaze was not there before; his eyes were smaller and narrower, with deep wrinkles at the corners; his face was thinner than she remembered; His cheeks were sunken like those of a North American Indian; he had grown a stiff, military mustache.He was so handsome that she was horrified.Her memory suddenly returned to the scene a few years ago.At that time, she was only ten or eleven years old, and she was so passionately in love with him.This real infatuation lasted for days.Then, one morning, she confessed her heart to him in the garden, and it was immediately forgotten.

She is right to be cautious.He was full of anger at this moment, but this anger turned into surprise. "Growing," he echoed.She was startled when he raised his voice. "Fuck! You're eighteen. Grow, grow, how much more do you have to grow? Eighteen-year-old soldiers die in battle. You're old enough to go to the front, you know? " "yes." It gave her some poor consolation that he could not know what she had been through.It was odd that, despite her guilt, she should feel compelled to resist him.Otherwise, both sides would be ruined. She didn't dare to speak, but just nodded.At the mention of death, a surge of emotion consumed him, pushing him from anger to bewilderment and hatred: his breathing was heavy and irregular; he clenched his right fist and then let it go; his bright His eyes were still fixed on her, his eyes were stern and fierce, as if he wanted to see through her; he swallowed hard again and again, the muscles in his throat tightened, and his Adam's apple was exposed; The emotions one sees struggle.As a trainee nurse, she happened to learn bits and pieces of knowledge in the ward and at the bedside.She knew that at this time the past was hitting him like a tide, making him helpless and tongue-tied.She would never know what sight had caused the commotion.He took a step closer to her, and she stepped back.She no longer thought he couldn't hurt her—if he couldn't talk, maybe he would act instead.If she took another step, his strong arms could reach her.Just then, Cecilia stood among them.She turned her back to Briony, facing Robbie, and put her arms around his shoulders.Robbie looked away.

"Look at me," Cecilia whispered, "Robbie, look at me." How he responded, Briony did not know.She only heard his objection or refusal.Maybe he said a curse word, and Cecilia held him tighter and tighter, and Robbie wriggled to get rid of her.They seemed like wrestlers, and she reached up, trying to turn his head toward her.But his face was tilted back, his lips were pursed, his teeth were bared, and he squeezed out a horrible ghoul smile.She gripped his cheek tightly with both hands, pulling his face with all her might.At last he met her eyes, but she still held his cheek.He pulled her closer.He watched her until the two faces met.So she kissed him lightly, and their lips touched each other.Cecilia said softly, "Come back... Robbie, come back." Briony remembered hearing Cecilia say that when she woke up many years ago.

He nodded slightly.He took a slow, deep breath as she let go of her hands and moved them away from his face.For a moment of silence, the room seemed to shrink even smaller.He wrapped his arms around her, bowed his head, and gave her a long, deep, intimate kiss.Briony walked quietly across the room, toward the window.She drank a glass of water from the kitchen tap.But the kissing of the couple continued as if no one else was there, they were still immersed in their own world.Briony felt forgotten, written off from the room, and to her relief. She turned away and looked out the window at the sunlit row of houses and the street she had just walked through.She was surprised to find that she still didn't want to leave, even though she was embarrassed by the long kiss, even though she was afraid of what would happen later.She stared at an old woman in a thick coat.She was walking on the far sidewalk with a sickly, short-legged, long-bodied German spaniel with a wagging belly.At this moment, Cecilia and Robbie were whispering.Out of respect for their privacy, Briony made up her mind not to turn away from the window unless they initiated a conversation with her.She watched the woman open the front door, close it very carefully, and then, halfway to the door, stooped with difficulty and plucked a tree from the long row of flower beds that ran along the path. Long weeds.At this point, her dog waddled forward and licked her wrist.The woman and the dog went inside, and the street became empty again.A blackbird perched on a privet hedge, but when it found no satisfactory foothold it flew away.A dark cloud floated over and quickly covered the sun, and then the cloud also drifted away.This is a typical Saturday afternoon scene.In this suburban street, there are hardly any signs of war.Briony heard her sister call her name.So she turned away. "Time is running out. Robbie will report to work at six o'clock tonight and has to catch the train. Sit down, you have to do something for us." This was the tone of the ward nurse.The tone was not bossy.She was just describing an inevitable event.Briony sat down in the chair closest to her.Robbie brought over a stool, and Cecilia sat between them.The breakfast she had prepared had been forgotten.Three empty glasses are placed in the middle of the table.He picked up a stack of books and put them on the ground.Cecilia moved a jar of bluebells aside so it wouldn't get kicked over.Then she and Robbie exchanged glances. Robbie cleared his throat, but his eyes were fixed on the flowers.When he began to speak, his voice was full of emotion.He seemed to be reading a series of rules of procedure.At this moment, he was watching her.His eyes are so calm.He has everything under control.But on his forehead, above his eyebrows, there were still drops of sweat. "You have promised the most important thing. Go to your parents as soon as possible and tell them everything they need to know to convince them that you committed perjury. When will you rest?" "Next Sunday." "You go away then, and you take our address and tell Jack and Emily. Cecilia is waiting to hear from them. The next thing you have to do tomorrow, Cecilia says you have to get out An hour to see a lawyer, a lawyer authorized to take oath, and then make a statement, signed and notarized. In the statement, you have to say what you did wrong and how you intend to withdraw your Perjury. You have to give both of us a copy of the statement. Got it?" "Understood." "Then, you write me a letter, detailing everything you think is relevant, what caused you to say you saw me by the lake, and why even though you're not sure about it, But you insisted it was me in the months leading up to the trial. I wonder if it was pressure from the police or your parents. Do you understand? This is going to be a long letter." "I understand." He nodded to meet Cecilia's gaze, "If you remember about Danny Hardman, like, where was he, what was he doing there, when, and who else saw him. Any Evidence that calls into question his alibi, and we all want to hear it." Cecilia was writing the address, and Briony shook her head to speak, but Robbie ignored her.He had stood up, looking at his watch. "There's not much time left, we'll walk you to the subway station, Cecilia and I want to spend the last hour alone before I go. For the rest of the day, you'll have to write your statement and let your parents Knowing that you're going to them. You might as well start thinking about what you're going to write to me in this letter." He said coldly what she had to do, then left the table and walked towards the bedroom. Briony also stood up and said, "Old Hardman probably told the truth. Danny was with him all night." Cecilia was just about to give her the note she had written and folded.Robbie stopped at the bedroom door. Cecilia asked, "What are you talking about?" "It was Paul Marshall." Then there was silence.Briony tried her best to imagine the psychological adjustment of everyone caused by this statement, which has become a certain thinking pattern for many years.But however astonishing it may be, these are details.Crucial things have not changed.The role of danger has not changed at all. Robbie returned to the table. "Marshall?" "yes." "Did you see him?" "The people I saw were about his height." "Same height as me." "yes." Now, Cecilia stood there, looking around—she was looking for a cigarette.Robbie found it and threw a pack of cigarettes across the room.Cecilia lit one and said as she smoked, "It's unbelievable. He's a fool. I know..." "He's a greedy fool," Robbie said, "but I can't imagine him spending even five minutes with Laura Quincy..." Briony knew that no matter what happened, no matter how dire the consequences, it didn't matter.Yet she seemed poised as she announced her decisive news. "I just attended their wedding." It was another shock, another psychological adjustment, and another suspicious repetition.The wedding? This morning? Clapham? Then a burst of musing, broken now and then by brief remarks. "I must find him."