"The Widow" Bertha

When she saw Richard Mason, Bertha understood that she was destined not to pretend to be dead in front of her blood relatives until she was old.

The world is so mysterious, the more people you want to avoid, the more they will appear in front of you.Once or twice, there is bound to be a third time.This time Bertha appeared brightly among Rochester's guests, and she was doomed not to pretend to be a stranger who didn't care like last time.

At least, they are now good friends of Edward in name again.

I haven't seen him for half a year, but Richard seems to have gotten over the fact that his sister "died". He is still pale and thin, but he no longer looks so melancholy and sad, and he can faint on the street anytime and anywhere.

When Rochester introduced him to everyone, Richard's eyes remained on Bertha.

After the former brother-in-law finished explaining to the guests, the elder brother who hadn't seen him for a long time said some perfunctory polite words to the others, and then walked towards Bertha impatiently.

"What a coincidence, miss," he seemed to be agitated, a little blush finally appeared on his bloodless face, but he maintained his basic decency, "We meet again, this, this must be God's arrangement. "

"..."

Bertha closed her eyes, trying her best to restrain the annoyance surging up in her heart.

With only limited broken memories, what Bertha can confirm is that the relationship between the original body and her family is not very good.

Her mother is a madman, and her father has a complicated relationship with Bertha because of the madness inherited from her mother.Only this brother who is so temperless that he is almost weak cares about her unconditionally.

The original Bertha was not a good-tempered girl, but Richard was so kind that she was almost weak, and she had a strong tolerance for her moody beauty sister.

So Bertha knew Richard, and she knew what he looked at her. The former Bertha Mason, at least the shadow or double of the buried man.

She looked up at Rochester, and the man behind Richard sighed slowly and shook his head.

Well, if you want to argue at the door just now, it should be that Rochester doesn't want Richard to enter the door, in order to avoid the embarrassing scene of meeting each other right now.

"What a coincidence, sir," Bertha maintained a distant smile, "God can really joke."

Otherwise, why not let her respect the wishes of the original owner and completely disappear in front of her relatives?

"Richard, this is Miss Marple," Rochester introduced proactively while maintaining a vigilant posture, "Miss Marple, this is Richard Mason...the elder brother of my late wife. Do you know each other, Richard?" ?”

"Mr. Mason." Bertha nodded.

"We met before! At Barclays Bank," Richard said excitedly, "remember when I said I saw Bertha half a year ago? I saw this lady, miss, you call me Richard That's good! May I know your name, Miss—"

"—Honey, it's getting late."

Mycroft Holmes, sitting aside, spoke without warning.

Throughout the evening he was in a polite and official state, and when no one else spoke, Mycroft would never initiate a conversation.This was the first time he took the initiative to intervene in a topic after dinner.

He startled Richard by opening his mouth, and only then did he realize that the gentleman sitting next to "Miss Marple" had a lot to do with it.

"Aren't you planning to go back to the ancestral house tonight?" Mycroft still said in a leisurely tone as if out of the situation, "It's too late if you don't go, even though the village of St. Mary Mead is near London, we have to take a carriage Out of town."

Such an understatement of a commonplace sentence severely shattered Richard Mason's hope, and cruelly separated the dead Bertha Mason from the interracial girl in front of him.

Her ancestral home is in the village of St. Mary Mead, just near London, which is enough to prove that the woman in front of her who is very similar to Bertha Mason has nothing to do with Richard Mason.

Bertha got up happily when she heard the words. She took Mr. Holmes's arm and said, "I'm sorry I'm in a hurry, Mr. Mason. If there is a relationship, how about we talk next time?"

Richard suddenly lost his mind, he nodded: "...then goodbye, Miss Marple."

Mycroft even greeted Richard politely: "Goodbye, sir."

……

With Mycroft's words, it is naturally impossible for Bertha to go home with Jane in her own carriage.She let Mycroft use this as an excuse to take her out of Rochester's apartment.

Going outside, under the gray moonlight, Bertha let out a long sigh of relief.

"Let's go, I'll see you off," Mycroft didn't say much about it, "I'm sure Mr. Rochester will do his best to escort Miss Jane Eyre home."

"it is good."

Bertha said little, and even when she got into the car she had no intention of speaking to Mycroft.

Unexpectedly, Richard's appearance made Bertha's subtle displeasure and Mycroft's protest against her little "revenge" disappear in an instant.

With such a big hurdle ahead, the already insignificant conflict between the two is simply not worth mentioning.

A long silence can help her calm down the violent emotions in her heart. Bertha did not expect that the original body's hatred for the past could last for so long—half a full year has passed.

Bertha was finally out of the thinking space when they were almost at South Shore Street.

"Thank you, Mike," she took the initiative to break the silence in the car, "If you weren't here, I would have to reveal my secrets tonight."

"Hands up."

In response, Mycroft just turned his head slightly.Under Bertha's sight, the man tightly grasped the palm of the cane without any trace, and then thought about it: "Do you need some air? It's neither hot nor cold tonight, and the night wind is best for calming down."

"That's all right," Bertha smiled. "You and I are people who like to think at night, aren't we?"

These were his own words in Pall Mall Street, the night of whiskey that impressed Bertha.

"That's natural."

Mycroft followed suit, raised the corner of his mouth, raised his cane, and knocked on the window behind him, and the carriage stopped immediately.

The two got out of the carriage, and they were only a few steps away from Nan'an Street.As Mycroft said, the cold night wind blowing like this completely took away the lingering negative emotions in Bertha's heart. look.

Walking side by side with Bertha, the gentleman holding the cane thought for a while, and then said: "Actually, with a little trickery, he can return to Jamaica, and he will not arrive in England for at least three years."

This "he" naturally refers to Richard Mason.

Bertha raised her eyebrows teasingly: "No need, I don't even know what Richard is doing now."

Mycroft: "It's just investing with Mr. Rochester. Almost all his accounts are managed by Mr. Rochester. Fortunately, your family is rich, madam. Even if Richard Mason does nothing, he And live well."

"Because my father is rich?"

"Because your father is rich."

Bertha laughed icily.

Her hoarse voice was almost broken in the silent night, which reminded Mycroft of the inference they made when they first met - Bertha's hoarse voice was not born, but because she had been crazy and unconsciously roared and screaming caused vocal cord damage.

It's just that no matter how I look at it now, Bertha doesn't seem to have any signs of madness, as if everything in the past is really buried six feet deep with her "remains".

"Thank you, Mike," was all she said in the end.

That's what it meant not to worry about Mycroft, and he nodded in understanding.

But Bertha glanced at him: "You don't seem to agree."

Mycroft: "Indeed. He hasn't been back to Jamaica for a long time, and he has been estranged from his father for many years because of you. In the long run, I think it will be more beneficial for you to know your brother."

That's right.

But how should I explain it to the gentleman in front of me who is persuading me?

From a rational point of view, confirming with Richard can indeed bring more benefits, and Bertha's unilateral suspended animation is also a kind of harm to those who care about her, which is quite cruel.

But she wasn't the original Bertha Mason.

Although the crazy woman in the attic died of an accident and she came to the nineteenth century, Bertha felt that she should respect the wishes and attitude of the original Bertha.

The crazy woman in the attic wants to be free, and desperately wants to get out of the cage where she is imprisoned, and she can do it.

The crazy woman in the attic wants to get away from everything in the past—the failed marriage with Rochester, well, she can fake her death to end the fact of marriage; abandon everything she brought from Jamaica, well, she is thousands of miles away from her homeland now anyway.

But no matter how hard Bertha tried, she couldn't deny her blood relationship with the Mason family.

This part of the hatred was always there, and every time she saw Richard, it came up again.

"I... don't know how to explain it," Bertha said with emotion. "I can only say, Mike, no matter how calm you are, you are still human. I can't look at everything 100% objectively."

To be honest, Bertha didn't agree with the original body's hatred of Rochester and her brother, but there was no reason to speak of a lunatic.

Especially for Richard, maybe because he is a relative, he couldn't forgive him for watching Rochester imprison himself in the dark attic of Thornfield Manor.

"Yes, no matter how calm you are, you are still human."

Mycroft uncommonly agrees with this: "But all people are always entangled between forgiving and being forgiven, even if the person who hurt you is a blood relative."

Bertha raised her eyebrows: "You know my family situation like the back of your hand, Mike."

Facing the lady's merciless questioning, Mycroft was frank: "I know your father, that's what you said, ma'am."

Bertha: "..."

Isn't that bullshit to Colonel Dent!Really narrow-minded.

"This has nothing to do with me, ma'am, but you and I are close, and there are some things I should say or say," Mycroft said with difficulty, "It was your father who lied to Rochester, and it was yours who sent you away." Father, how innocent is Richard Mason? I also have brothers, and I have more or less experienced the pain."

"Have you been tricked by Shelly?"

"Where did you go, madam!"

Mycroft laughed suddenly: "However, I am a few years older than him. Don't underestimate Holmes' curiosity about the world. When I was young and ignorant, I got him in trouble a few times."

Well, as for how you Holmes brothers "harmed" each other in a childish way, Bertha will not ask, let her feel sorry for the old Mrs. Holmes first.

but……

Mycroft Holmes took the initiative to open up - even a little bit, the moon does not seem to rise and set backwards today.

Bertha was very surprised: "I didn't expect you to share my childhood memories with me, Mike."

While they were talking, they had already reached the intersection of Nan'an Street.As a result, Mycroft's pace slowed down, and the atmosphere around the two became much more harmonious due to the content of the conversation.

—at least not as much as at dinner, thought Bertha.

"Of course, ma'am," said Mycroft, "I stumbled across your past, and naturally I want you to know about mine."

She understood what Mycroft meant, and she said that she wanted to trade privacy for privacy in order to seek "fairness".But does a man like Holmes not understand that there is no fairness in this sentimental thing?

He just brought up little Shelly and talked about it, so that Bertha wouldn't be embarrassed.

"Then I have to thank Richard." Bertha responded with a curl of her lips.

"in this case."

Mycroft stopped walking, the dim light coated the man's tall and straight figure with a layer of peace, and even the always kind but distant smile became a bit more sincere: "You Don't be angry, ma'am."

It turned out that they were waiting for her here, and Bertha couldn't help laughing.

"It's no big deal, Mike."

Under the night, she smiled slightly, facing Mycroft's sincere eyes, Bertha's slightly raised eyes were slightly bent, and the always sharp aura softened.

"But for the sake of taking it so seriously, I can forgive you one more time."

"..."

Mycroft paused subtly with the palm holding the cane, and then said cheerfully: "My honor, so good night?"

They were already standing at the door of 23 South Bank Street, and Mycroft did his duty by escorting Bertha home safely.

What else can Bertha say now?

The Jamaican girl turned her head to the side, and then she seemed reluctant and relieved and said, "Good night, Mike."

After she finished speaking, she turned and entered the door without hesitation.

Mycroft stared at the tall figure until she disappeared behind the opened and then closed gate of the mansion, then he looked away as if nothing had happened, and turned to leave as well.

***

Bertha was in a good mood when she got back to 23 South Shore Street.

Although the episode of meeting Richard Mason disturbed her mood for a while, dignified Sherlock Holmes pleases herself for the slightest unhappiness before, and she is really worth it as a time traveler.

This good mood lasted until the next day, when Bertha came to Thames Office.Dr. Bartz's wife made an appointment to come to discuss the operation of the hotel today. Bertha was considering how to negotiate with the other party. As soon as she got off the carriage, she heard a commotion in the office.

What's the situation?

She raised her eyebrows slightly, then pushed the door open and entered, and saw a thin middle-aged woman standing in front of the door, followed by a younger girl.

The middle-aged woman yelled aggressively at the youths in the office: "Where is Thomas Thames?! Don't try to hide it from me, I must see him today!"

Bertha: "What do you want with him?"

The woman with her back to the door was taken aback for a moment, then turned her head, and what Bertha saw was a haggard face that had to be covered up with makeup.

The middle-aged woman looked at Bertha with overly alert eyes, and Bertha was also confirming her identity.She took a few steps forward with the hem of her skirt in her hand, and then a familiar but inferior smell of makeup and powder came over her face.

Bertha: "..."

Well, she knew where it came from.

It seems that she still underestimated the charm of this cheap younger brother. Who doesn't love suave and suave single young people? Everyone chased him from the red light district to the office.