The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [223]
“Very good,” I replied. “Somewhere on par with The Tempest. What’s happening here?”
“Volescamper has just officially announced he is giving the play to Yorrick Kaine and the Whigs.”
“Why?”
“Who knows? Hang on, I want to ask a question.”
Lydia stood up and raised her hand. Kaine pointed at her.
“What do you propose to do with the play, Mr. Kaine? We understand that there has been talk of offers in the region of a hundred million pounds.”
“Good question,” replied Yorrick Kaine, getting to his feet. “We in the Whig party thank Lord Volescamper for his kind generosity. I am of the opinion that Cardenio is not for one person or group to exploit, so we at the Whig party propose offering free licenses to perform the play to anyone who wishes to do so.”
There was an excited babbling from the attendant journalists as they took this in. It was an act of unprecedented generosity, especially from Kaine, but more than that, it was the right thing to do, and the press suddenly warmed towards Yorrick. It was as if Kaine had never suggested the invasion of Wales two years ago or the reduction of the right to vote the year before; I was instantly suspicious.
There were several more questions about the play and a lot of well-practiced answers from Kaine, who seemed to have reinvented himself as a caring and sharing patriarch and not the extremist of yore. After the press conference had ended, I made my way to the front and approached Volescamper, who looked at me oddly for a moment.
“The Spoon report,” I told him, handing him the buff-colored file, “about the authentication ... we thought you might want to see it.”
“What? Of course!”
Volescamper took the report and glanced at it in a cursory manner before passing it to Kaine, who seemed to show more interest. Kaine didn’t even look at me, but since I obviously wasn’t going to leave like some message girl, Volescamper introduced me.
“Oh yes! Mr. Kaine, this is Thursday Next, SpecOps-27.”
Kaine looked up from the report, his manner abruptly changed to one of charm and gushing friendship.
“Ms. Next, delighted!” he enthused. “I read of your exploits with great interest, and believe me, your intervention improved the narrative of Jane Eyre considerably!”
I wasn’t impressed by him or his faux charm.
“Think you can change the Whig party’s fortunes, Mr. Kaine?”
“The party is undergoing something of a restructuring at present,” replied Kaine, fixing me with a serious stare. “Old ideology has been retired and the party now looks forward to a fresh look at England’s political future. Rule by informed patriarch and voting restricted to responsible property owners is the future, Miss Next—ruling by committee has been the death of common sense for far too long.”
“And Wales?” I asked. “Where do you stand on Wales these days?”
“Wales is historically part of greater Britain,” announced Kaine in a slightly more guarded manner. “The Welsh have been flooding the English market with cheap goods, and this has to stop—but I have no plans whatsoever for forced unification.”
I stared at him for a moment.
“You have to get in power first, Mr. Kaine.”
The smile dropped from his face.
“Thank you for delivering the report, Miss Next,” put in Volescamper hurriedly. “Can I offer you a drink or something before you go?”
I took the hint and made my way to the front door. I stood and looked at the outside broadcast units thoughtfully. Yorrick Kaine was playing his hand well.
21.
Les Artes Modernesde Swindon ’85
The very Irreverent Joffy Next was the minister for the Global Standard Deity’s first church in England. The GSD had a little bit of all religions, arguing that if there was one God, then He would really have very little to do with all the fluff and muddle down here on the material plane, and a streamlining of the faiths might very well be in His interest. Worshipers came and went as they pleased, prayed according to how they felt most happy, and mingled freely with other GSD members. It enjoyed moderate success, but what God actually thought of it no one ever really