A skeleton in the cupboard

We often read in novels how a seemingly respectable person or family has some terrible secret which has been concealed from strangers for years. The English language possesses a vivid saying to describe this sort of situation. The terrible secret is called 'a skeleton in the cupboard'. At some dramatic moment in the story, the terrible secret becomes known and a reputation is ruined. The reader's hair stands on end when he reads in the final pages of the novel that the heroine, a dear old lady who had always been so kind to everybody, had, in her youth, poisoned every one of her five husbands.

It is all very well for such things to occur in fiction. To varying degrees, we all have secrets which we do not want even our closest friends to learn, but few of us have skeletons in the cupboard. The only person I know who has a skeleton in the cupboard is George Carlton, and he is very proud of the fact. George studied medicine in his youth. Instead of becoming a doctor, however, he became a successful writer of detective stories. I once spent an uncomfortable weekend which I shall never forget at his house. George showed me to the guestroom which, he said, was very quiet, but I was horrified to find that it looked out onto a cemetery.

'Oh, that's all right,' George said when I told him how I felt. 'I don't mind the view at all.' That was the start of an uncomfortable weekend. The first night, I had scarcely closed my eyes when a strange little man appeared at my bedside. 'I'm sorry to disturb you,' he said, 'but I think there is something wrong with my stomach.' I was in no mood to pass a pleasantry with him, so I simply stared at him until he went away. The next morning I got up early. I had a good breakfast and a pleasant morning stroll. After lunch, I settled down to read in the garden, but the book I was reading could not hold my attention. Every few minutes I raised my head to look at the view. It was not a pleasant view. I decided to go for a walk. I had not gone far when I saw a figure in the distance. I recognized George. He was walking slowly towards me. When he came near, I noticed that he looked very pale. 'I'm sorry to have troubled you last night,' he said. 'I had a bad night myself. I thought I heard something moving in the cupboard. It was probably a mouse, but it sounded like a skeleton. I'm not used to having skeletons in the cupboard, you know.'

在小说中，我们经常读到一个表面上受人尊重的人物或家族，却有着某种多年不为人知的骇人听闻的秘密。英语中有一个生动的说法来形容这种情况。惊人的秘密称作“柜中骷髅”。在小说的某个戏剧性时刻，可怕的秘密泄漏出来，接着便是某人的声誉扫地。当读者读到小说最后几页了解到书中女主人公，那位一向待大家很好的可爱的老妇人年轻时一连毒死了她的五个丈夫时，不禁会毛骨悚然。

这种事发生在小说中是无可非议的。尽管我们人人都有各种大小秘密，连最亲密的朋友都不愿让他们知道，但我们当中极少有人有柜中骷髅。我所认识的唯一的在柜中藏骷髅的人便是乔治·卡尔顿，他甚至引以为自豪。乔治年轻时学过医。然而，他后来没当上医生，却成了一位成功的侦探小说作家。我曾在他家中度过了一个不愉快的周末，这事我永远不会忘记。乔治把我领进客房，说这间房间很安静。但使我大为吃惊的是，我发现客房窗外是一片墓地。

“噢，那没关系，”当我告诉他我的感受时，乔治说，“我一点也不在意这种景色。”这个周末就这么开始了，很不舒服。头天晚上，我刚合眼不久，一个奇怪的小个子男人出现在我床边。“很抱歉打扰你，”他说，“我想我的肚子有点毛病。”我没心思跟他开玩笑，只是冷冷地瞪着他，直到他走掉。第二天早晨我起得很早。我吃了一顿丰盛的早餐，然后出去散步，度过了一个愉快的早晨。午饭后，我在花园里安下心来读书，但是我所读的书却无法引起我的兴趣。每隔几分钟我就抬起头来看看景色。那景色并不美。我决定去走走。我没走多远就看到远处有一个人影。我认出那是乔治。他正慢慢地向我走来。当他走近时，我发现他脸色很苍白。“很抱歉昨晚打扰你了，”他说，“我自己昨晚也没睡好。我原以为我听到橱柜里有动静。可能是只老鼠，但听起来像是骷髅的声音。你知道，我是不习惯在橱柜里有骷髅的。”