Part 38 (1/2)

I walked over with him to his office and he shut the door.

'Firstly, I am very sorry about Miss Havisham. Secondly, I'm having you moved to less demanding demanding duties.' duties.'

'I'm fine, really,' I a.s.sured him.

'I'm sure you are but since you have only recently qualified and are without a mentor, we felt it was better if you were taken off the active list for a while.'

' ”We”?'

He picked up his clipboard which had beeped at him. Havisham had told me that he never actually placed any papers in the all-important clipboard the words were beamed directly there from Text Grand Central.

'The Council of Genres has taken a personal interest in your case,' he said after reading the clipboard. 'I think they felt you were too valuable to lose through stress an Outlander in Jurisfiction is quite a coup, as you know. You have powers of self-determination that we can only dream of. Take it in the good spirit it is meant, won't you?'

'So I don't get to take Havisham's place at Jurisfiction?'

'I'm afraid not. Perhaps when the dust has settled. Who knows? In the BookWorld, anything is possible.'

He handed me a sc.r.a.p of paper.

'Report to Solomon on the twenty-sixth floor. Good luck!'

I got up, thanked the Bellman and left his office. There was silence as I walked back past the other agents, who looked at me apologetically. I had been canned through no fault of my own, and everyone knew it. I sat down at Havisham's desk and looked at all her stuff. She had been replaced by a Generic in Expectations Expectations, and although they would look almost identical, it could never be the same person. The Havisham that I knew had been lost at Pendine Sands. I sighed. Perhaps demotion was a good thing. After all, I did have a lot to learn and working with the C of G for a bit probably had its merits.

'Miss Next?'

It was Commander Bradshaw.

'h.e.l.lo, sir.'

He smiled and raised his hat.

'Would you care to have tea with me on the veranda?'

'I'd be delighted.'

He smiled, took me by the arm and jumped us both into Bradshaw Hunts Big Game Bradshaw Hunts Big Game. I had never been to East Africa, either in our world or this, but it was as beautiful as I had imagined it from the many images I had grown up with. Bradshaw's house was a low colonial building with a veranda facing the setting sun; the land around the house was wild scrub and whistling thorns, herds of wildebeest and zebra wandering across in a desultory manner, their hoofs kicking up red dust as they moved.

'Quite beautiful, wouldn't you say?'

'Extraordinary,' I replied, staring at the scenery.

'Isn't it just?' He grinned. 'Appreciate a woman who knows beauty when she sees it.'

His voice dropped a tone.

'Havisham was one of the finest,' he said. 'A little too fast for me, but a good egg in a sc.r.a.p. She was very fond of you.'

'And I of her.'

'I had a look at the wreck of the Bluebird when it returned to Wemmick's Stores,' he added. 'Looked like an accident, my girl, nothing more. Mr Toad was pretty cut up about it and got into a h.e.l.luva pickle for visiting the Outland without permission.'

'Did Havisham confide in you about Perkins?'

'Only that she thought he'd been murdered.'

'Had he?'

'Who knows? The office think it's Deane but we'll never know for sure until we arrest him. Have you met the memsahib? My darling, this is Thursday Next a colleague from work.'

I looked up and jumped slightly because Mrs Bradshaw was, in fact, a gorilla. She was large and hairy and was dressed only in a floral-patterned pinafore.

'Good evening,' I said, slightly taken aback, 'a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Bradshaw.'

'Good evening,' replied the gorilla politely. 'Would you like some cake with your tea? Alphonse has made an excellent lemon sponge.'

'That would be nice, thank you,' I spluttered as Mrs Bradshaw stared at me with her dark, deep-set eyes.

'Excellent!' she said. 'I'll be out in a jiffy to join you. Feet, Trafford.'

'What? Oh!' said Bradshaw, taking his boots off the chair opposite. When Mrs Bradshaw had left he turned and said to me in a very serious whisper: 'Tell me, did you notice anything odd about the memsahib?'

'Er,' I began, not wanting to hurt his feelings, 'not really.'

'Think,' he said, 'it's important. Is there anything about her that strikes you as a little out of the ordinary?'

'Well, she's only wearing a pinafore,' I managed to say.

'Does that bother you?' he asked in all seriousness. 'Whenever male visitors attend I always have her cover up. She's a fine-looking gal, wouldn't you agree? Drive any man wild, wouldn't you say?'

'Very fine,' I agreed.

He shuffled in his chair and drew closer.

'Anything else?' he said, staring at me intently. 'Anything at all. I won't be upset.'

'Well,' I began slowly, 'I couldn't help noticing that she was ...'

'Yes?'

'... a gorilla.'

'Hmm,' he said, leaning back, 'our little subterfuge didn't fool you, then?'

I'm afraid not.'

'Melanie!' he shouted. 'Please come and join us.'

Mrs Bradshaw lumbered back on to the veranda and sat in one of the club armchairs, which creaked under her weight.

'She knows, Melanie.'