Part 37 (1/2)

'Yes, very good. All the clothes and boyfriends she wants.'

'You're sour because you didn't get that male-mentor part you wanted,' retorted Lola.

'Not at all,' replied Randolph, resentment bubbling under the surface. 'I've been offered a small part in an upcoming Amis a proper novel. A literary literary one.' one.'

'Well, good luck to you,' replied Lola. 'Send me a postcard if you can be troubled to talk to anyone in chicklit.'

'Guys,' I said, 'don't part like this!'

Lola looked at Randolph, who turned away. She sighed, stared at me for a moment and then got up.

'Well,' she said, picking up her case, 'I've got to go. Fittings all morning then rehearsals until six. Busy, busy, busy. I'll keep in touch, don't worry.'

I got up, held my head for a moment as it thumped badly, then hugged Lola, who hugged me back happily.

'Thanks for all the help, Thursday,' she said, tears in her eyes. 'I wouldn't have made it up to B-3 without you.'

She went to the door, stopped for a moment and looked across at Randolph, who was staring resolutely out of the window at nothing in particular.

'Goodbye, Randolph.'

'Goodbye,' he said without looking up.

Lola looked at me, bit her lip and went across to him and kissed him on the back of the head. She returned to the door, said goodbye to me again and went out.

I sat down next to him. A large tear had rolled down his nose and dropped on to the table. I laid a hand on his.

'Randolph-!'

'I'm fine!' he growled. 'I've just got a bit of grit in my eye!'

'Did you tell her how you felt?'

'No I didn't!' he snapped. 'And what's more I don't want you dictating to me what I should and shouldn't do!'

He got up and stormed off to his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.

'h.e.l.looo!' said a Granny Next sort of voice. 'Are you well enough to come upstairs?'

'Yes.'

'Then you can come and help me down.'

I a.s.sisted her down the stairs and sat her at the table, fetching a cus.h.i.+on or two from the living room.

'Thanks for your help, Gran. I made a complete fool of myself last night.'

'What's life for?' she replied. 'Don't mention it. And by the way, it was Lola and me who undressed you, not the boys.'

'I think I was past caring.'

'All the same. Aornis will have a lot more trouble getting at you in the Outland, my dear my experience of mnemonomorphs tends to be that once you dispose of a mindworm, the rest is easy. You won't forget her in a hurry, I a.s.sure you.'

We chatted for an hour, Gran and I, about Miss Havisham, Landen, babies, Anton and all other things besides. She told me about her own husband's eradication and his eventual return. I knew he had had returned because without him there would be no me, but it was interesting to talk to her nonetheless. I felt well enough to go into returned because without him there would be no me, but it was interesting to talk to her nonetheless. I felt well enough to go into Caversham Heights Caversham Heights at midday to see how Jack was getting on. at midday to see how Jack was getting on.

'Ah!' said Jack as I arrived. 'Just in time. I've been thinking about a reworking do you want to have a look?'

'Go on, then.'

'Is anything the matter? You look a bit unwell.'

'I got myself pickled to the gills last night. I'll be fine. What have you in mind?'

'Get in. I want you to meet someone.'

I climbed into the Allegro and he handed me a coffee. We were parked opposite a large red-brick semi in the north of the town. In the book we stake out this house for two days, eventually sighting the mayor emerging with crime boss Angel DeFablio. With the mayor character excised from the ma.n.u.script for an unspecified reason, it would be a long wait.

'This is Nathan Snudd,' said Jack, indicating a young man sitting on the back seat. 'Nathan is a plotsmith who's just graduated in the Well and has kindly agreed to help us. He has some ideas about the book that I wanted you to hear. Mr Snudd, this is Thursday Next.'

'Hi,' I said, shaking his hand.

'The Outlander Outlander Thursday Next?' Thursday Next?'

'Yes.'

'Fascinating! Tell me, why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?'

'I don't know. What are your ideas for the book?'

'Well,' said Nathan, affecting the manner of someone who knows a great deal, 'I've being looking at what you have left and I've put together a rescue plan that uses the available budget, characters and remaining high points of the novel to best effect.'

'Is it still a murder inquiry?'

'Oh yes; and the fight-rigging bit I think we can keep, too. I've bought a few cut-price plot devices from a bargain warehouse in the Well and sewn them in. For instance, I thought that instead of having one scene where Jack is suspended by DCI Briggs, you could have six.'

'Will that work?'

'Sure. Then there will be a ”bad cop” routine where an officer close to you is taking bribes and betrays you to the Mob. I've got this middle-aged creepy housekeeper Generic we can adapt. In fact, I've got seventeen middle-aged creepy housekeepers we can pepper about the book.'

'Mrs Danvers, by any chance?' I asked.

'We're working to a tight budget,' replied Snudd coldly, 'let's not forget that.'

'What else?'

'I thought there could be several gangster's molls or a prost.i.tute who wants to go straight and helps you out.'