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'The bit about the orphaned amputees is good,' I added, trying not to
dishearten him. 'What are you going to call it?'
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book
'I thought of
Love among the Orphans
. What do you think?'
By the end of the meal Mycroft had outlined several of his books to me, each
one with a plot more lurid than the last. At the same time Joffy and Wilbur
had come to blows in the garden, discussing the sanctity of peace and
forgiveness amid the thud of fists and the crunch of broken noses.
At midnight Mycroft took Polly in his arms and thanked us all for coming.
'I have spent my entire life in pursuit of scientific truth and
enlightenment,' he announced grandly, 'answers to conundrums and unifying
theories of everything. Perhaps I should have spent the time going out more.
In fifty-four years neither Polly nor myself has ever taken a holiday, so that
is where we're off to now.'
We walked into the garden, the family wishing Mycroft and Polly well on their
travels. Outside the door of the workshop they stopped and looked at one
another, then at all of us.
'Well, thanks for the party,' said Mycroft. 'Pear soup followed by pear stew
with pear sauce and finishing with bombs surprise
which was pear was quite a treat. Unusual, but quite a treat. Look after
MycroTech while I'm away, Wilbur, and thanks for all the meals, Wednesday.
Right, that's it,' concluded
Mycroft. 'We're off Toodle-oo.'
'Enjoy yourselves,' I said.
'Oh, we will!' he said, bidding us all goodbye again and disappearing into the
workshop. Polly kissed us all, waved farewell and followed him, closing the
door behind her.
'It won't be the same without him and his daft projects, will it?' said Landen
'No,' I replied. 'It's '
I felt a strong tingling sensation as a noiseless white light erupted from
within the workshop and shone in pencil-thin beams from every crack and rivet
hole, each speck of grime showing up on the dirty windows, every crack in the
glass suddenly alive with a rainbow of colours. We winced and shielded our
eyes, but no sooner had the light started than it had gone again, faded to
nothing in a crackle of electricity. Landen and I exchanged looks and stepped
forward. The door opened easily and we stood there, staring into the large and
now very empty workshop. Every single piece of equipment had gone. Not a
screw, not a bolt, not a washer.
'He isn't just going to write romantic novels in his retirement,' observed
Joffy.
'Most probably he just took it all so no one else would carry on with his
work. Mycroft's scruples were the equal of his intellect.'
My mother was sitting on an upturned wheelbarrow, her dodos clustered around
her on the off-chance of a marshmallow.
'They're not coming back,' said my mother sadly. 'You know that, don't you?'
'Yes,' I said, 'I know.'
7
White Horse, Uffington, picnics for the use of
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book
'We decided that "Parke-Laine-Next" was a bit of a mouthful, so I kept my
surname and he kept his. I called myself "Ms" instead of "Miss", but nothing
else changed. I liked being called his wife in the same way I liked calling
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Landen my husband. It felt sort of tingly
. I
had the same feeling when I stared at my wedding ring. They say you get used
to it but I
hoped that they were wrong. Marriage, like spinach and opera, was something I
had never thought I would like. I changed my mind about opera when I was nine
years old. My father took me to the first night of
Madame Butterfly at Brescia in 1904. After the performance
Dad cooked while Puccini regaled me with hilarious stories and signed my
autograph book
from that day on I was a devoted fan. In the same way, it took being in love
with Landen to make me change my mind about marriage. I found it exciting and
exhilarating, two people, together, as one. It was where I was meant to be. I
was happy, I was contented, I
was fulfilled.
And spinach? Well, I'm still waiting
THURSDAY NEXT
private diaries
'What do you think they'll do?' asked Landen as we lay in bed, he with one
hand resting gently on my stomach and the other wrapped tightly around me. The
bedclothes had been thrown off and we had only just regained our breath.
'Who?'
'SO-1 this afternoon. About you punching the Neanderthal.'
'Oh, that
. I don't know. Technically speaking I really haven't done anything wrong at
all. I think they'll let me off, considering all the good PR work I've done
looks a bit daft to arrest their star operative, don't you think?'
'That's always assuming they think logically like you or I.'
'It does, doesn't it?'
I sighed.
'People have been busted for less. SO-1 like to make an example from time to
time.'
'You don't have to work, you know.'
I looked across at him but he was too close to focus on, which was sort of
nice, in its way.
'I know,' I replied, 'but I'd like to keep it up. I don't really see myself as
a mumsy sort of person.'
'Your cooking might tend to support that fact.'
'Mother's cooking is terrible, too I think it's hereditary. My SO-1 hearing
is at four. Want to go and see the mammoth migration?'
'Sure.'
The doorbell rang.
'Who could that be?'
'It's a little early to tell,' quipped Landen. 'I understand the "go and see"
technique sometimes works.'
'Very funny.'
I pulled on some clothes and went downstairs. There was a gaunt man with
lugubrious features standing on the doorstep. He looked as close to a
bloodhound as one can get without actually having a tail and
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book barking.
'Yes?'
He raised his hat and gave me a somnolent smile.
'The name is Hopkins,' he explained. 'I'm a reporter for
The Owl
. I was wondering if I could interview you about your time within the pages of
Jane
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Eyre?'
'You'll have to go through Cordelia Flakk at SpecOps, I'm afraid. I'm not
really at liberty '
'I know you were inside the book; in the first and original ending Jane goes
to India, yet in your ending she stays and marries Rochester. How did you
engineer this?'
'You really have to get clearance from Flakk, Mr Hopkins.'
He sighed.
'Okay, I will. Just one thing. Did you prefer the new ending, your new
ending?'
'Of course. Didn't you?'
Mr Hopkins scribbled in a notepad and smiled again.
'Thank you, Miss Next. I'm very much in your debt. Good day!'
He raised his hat again and was gone.
'What was all that about?' asked Landen as he handed me a cup of coffee.
'Pressman.'
'What did you tell him?'
'Nothing. He has to go through Flakk.'
Uffington was busy that morning. The mammoth population in England, Wales and
Scotland amounted to
249 individuals in nine groups, all of whom migrated north to south around
late autumn and back again in the spring. The routes followed the same pattern
every year with staggering accuracy. Inhabited areas were mostly avoided
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