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I was quiet for a moment.
'Will there be
Jane Eyre
?'
'Yes,' sighed my father. 'Yes, there will always be
Jane Eyre
.'
'And Turner? Will he still paint
The Fighting Temeraire
?'
'Yes, and Carravaggggio will be there too, although his name will be spelt
more sensibly.'
'Then what are we waiting for?'
My father was silent for a moment.
'There's a catch.'
'What sort of catch?'
He sighed.
'Landen will be back but you and he won't have met. Landen won't even know
you.'
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'But I'll know him. I can introduce myself can't I?'
'Thursday, you're not part of this. You're outside of it. You'll still be
carrying Landen's child but you won't know the sideslip has ever happened. You
will remember nothing about your old life. If you want to go sideways to see
him then you'll have to have a new past and a new present. Perversely enough,
to be able to see him, you cannot have any recollection of him nor he of
you.'
'That's some catch,' I observed.
'It's the second best there is,' Dad agreed.
I thought for a moment.
'So I won't be in love with him?'
'I'm afraid not. You might have a small residual memory feelings that you
can't explain for someone you've never met.'
'Will I be confused?'
'Yes.'
He looked at me with an earnest expression. They all did. Even Lady Hamilton,
who had been moving quietly towards the sherry, stopped and was staring at me.
It was clear that making myself scarce was something I had to do But having
zero recollection of Landen? I didn't really have to think very hard.
'No, Dad. Thanks, but no thanks.'
'I don't think you understand,' he intoned, using his paternal
go-to-your-room-young-lady voice. 'In a year's time you can come back and
everything will be as right as '
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book
'
No
. I'm not losing any more of Landen than I have already.'
I had an idea.
'Besides, I do have somewhere I can go.'
'Where?' enquired my father. 'Where could you possibly go that Lavoisier
couldn't find you? Backward, forward, sideways, otherways there isn't
anywhere else!'
I smiled.
'You're wrong, Dad. There somewhere. A place where no one will ever find me
not even you.'
is
'Sweetpea !' he implored. 'It is imperative that you take this seriously!
Where will you go?'
I replied slowly, 'I'll just lose myself in a good book.'
Despite their pleading I bade farewell to Mum, Dad and Lady Hamilton, crept
out of the house and sped to my apartment on Joffy's motorbike I parked
outside the front door in clear defiance of the Goliath and
SpecOps agents who were still waiting for me. I ambled slowly in, it would
take them twenty minutes or more to report to base and then get up the stairs
and break down the door and I really only needed to pack a few things. I
still had my memories of Landen and they would sustain me until I got him
back.
Because I
would get him back but I needed time to rest and recuperate and bring our
child into the world with the minimum of fuss, bother and interruptions. I
packed four tins of Moggilicious cat food, two packets of Mintolas, a large
jar of Marmite and two dozen AA batteries into a large holdall along with a
few changes of clothing, a picture of my family and the copy of
Jane Eyre with the bullet lodged in the cover. I placed a sleepy and confused
Pickwick and her egg into the holdall and zipped up the bag so that only her
head stuck out. I then sat and waited on a chair in front of the door with a
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copy of
Great
Expectations on my lap. I wasn't a natural book-jumper and without my travel
book I was going to need the fear of capture to help catapult me through the
boundaries of fiction.
I started to read at the first knock on the door and continued through the
volley of shouts for me to open up, past the muffled thuds and the sound of
splintered wood until finally, as the door fell in, I melted into the dingy
interior of
Great Expectations and Satis House.
Miss Havisham was slightly shocked when I explained what I needed, and even
more shocked at the sight of Pickwick, but she consented to my request and
cleared it with the Bellman on the proviso that I'd continue with my
training. I was hurriedly inducted into the Character Exchange Programme and
given a secondary part in an unpublished book deep within the Well of Lost
Plots the woman I was replacing had for some time wanted to take a course in
Drama at the Reading Academy of Dramatic Arts, so it suited her equally well.
As I wandered down to Sub-basement six, Exchange Programme docket in hand made
out to someone named Briggs, I felt more relaxed than I had for weeks. I found
the correct book sandwiched between the first draft of an adventure in the
Tasman seas and a vague notion of a comedy set in Bomber Command. I picked up
the book, took it to one of the reading tables and quietly read myself into my
new home.
I found myself on the banks of a reservoir somewhere in the Home Counties. It
was summer and the air smelt warm and sweet after the wintry conditions back
home. I was standing on a wooden jetty in front of
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Jasper Fforde - Thursday Next 02 - Lost in a Good Book a large and seemingly
derelict flying boat, which rocked gently in the breeze, tugging on the
mooring ropes. A woman had just stepped out of a door in the high-sided hull;
she was holding a suitcase.
'Hello!' she shouted, running up and offering me a hand. 'I'm Mary. You must
be Thursday. My goodness!
What's that?'
'A dodo. Her name's Pickwick.'
'I thought they were extinct.'
'Not where I come from. Is this where I'm going to live?' I was pointing at
the shabby flying boat dubiously.
'I know what you're thinking,' smiled Mary proudly. 'Isn't she just the most
beautiful thing ever? Short
Sunderland, built in 1943 but last flew in '54. I'm mid-way converting her to
a houseboat but don't feel shy if you want to help out. Just keep the bilges
pumped out and if you can run the number three engine once a month I'd be very
grateful.'
'Er okay,' I stammered.
'Good. I've left a rough précis of the story taped to the fridge but don't
worry too much since we're not published you can do pretty much what you
want. Any problems, ask Captain Nemo who lives on the
Nautilus two boats down, and don't worry, Jack might seem gruff to begin with
but he has a heart of gold and if he asks you to drive his Austin Allegro,
make sure you depress the clutch fully before changing gear. Did the Bellman
supply you with all the necessary paperwork and fake IDs?'
I patted my pocket and she handed me a scrap of paper and a bunch of keys.
'Good. This is my Footnoterphone number in case of emergencies, these are the
keys to the flying boat and my BMW. If someone named Arnold calls, tell him he
had his chance and he blew it. Any questions?'
'I don't think so.'
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She smiled.
'Then we're done. You'll like it here. It's pretty odd. I'll see you in about
a year. So long!'
She gave a cheery wave and walked off up the dusty track. I looked across the
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