The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [244]
“Sorry,” muttered Bowden meekly.
Cordelia leaped to her feet.
“Good thinking, Next. We can tell everyone you have water retention or an eating disorder brought on by stress.” Her face fell. “No, that won’t work. The Toad will see through it like a shot. Can’t you get married really quickly to someone? What about to Bowden? Bowden, would you do the decent thing for the sake of SpecOps?”
“I’m seeing someone over at SpecOps-13,” replied Bowden hurriedly.
“Blast!” muttered Flakk. “Thursday, any ideas?”
But this was a part of Bowden I knew nothing about.
“You never told me you were seeing someone over at SO-13!”
“I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“But I’m your partner, Bowden!”
“Well, you never told me about Miles.”
“Miles?” exclaimed Cordelia. “The oh-so-handsome-to-die-for Miles Hawke?”
“Thanks, Bowden.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Cordelia, clapping her hands together. “A dazzling couple! ‘SpecOps wedding of the year!’ This is worth soooooo much coverage! Does he know?”
“No. And you’re not going to tell him. And what’s more— Bowden—it might not even be his.”
“Which puts us back to square one again!” responded Cordelia in a huff. “Stay here, I’m going to fetch my guests. Bowden, don’t let her out of your sight!”
And she was gone.
Bowden stared at me for a moment and then asked: “Do you really believe the baby is Landen’s?”
“I’m hoping.”
“You’re not married, Thurs. You might think you are, but you’re not. I looked at the records. Landen Parke-Laine died in 1947.”
“This time he did. My father and I went—”
“You don’t have a father, Thursday. There is no record of anyone on your birth certificate. I think maybe you should speak to one of the stressperts.”
“And end up doing comedy stand-up, arranging pebbles or counting blue cars? No, thanks.”
There was a pause.
“He is very handsome,” said Bowden.
“Who?”
“Miles Hawke, of course.”
“Oh. Yes, yes I know he is.”
“Very polite, very popular.”
“I know that.”
“A child without a father—”
“Bowden, I’m not in love with him and it isn’t his baby— okay?”
“Okay, okay. Let’s forget it.”
We sat there in silence for a bit. I played with a pencil and Bowden stared out of the window.
“What about the voices?”
“Bowden—!”
“Thursday, this is for your own good. You told me you heard them yourself, and officers Hurdyew, Tolkien and Lissning heard you talking and listening to someone in the upstairs corridor.”
“Well, the voices have stopped,” I said categorically. “ Nothing like that will ever happen again.1
“Oh shit.”2
“What do you mean, ‘Oh shit’?”
“Nothing—just, well, that. I’ve got to use the ladies’ room— would you excuse me?”
I left Bowden shaking his head sadly and was soon in the ladies’. I checked the stalls were empty and then said: “Miss Havisham, are you there?”3
“You must understand, Miss Havisham, that where I come from customs are different from your own. People curse here as a matter of course.”4
“I’ll be there directly, ma’am!”
I bit my lip and rushed out of the ladies’, grabbed my Jurisfiction travelbook and my jacket and was heading back when—
“Thursday!” went a loud and strident voice that I knew could only be Flakk’s. “I’ve got the winners outside in the corridor—!”
“I’m sorry, Cordelia, but I have to go to the loo.”
“Don’t think I’m going to fall for that one again, do you?” she growled under her breath.
“It’s true this time.”
“And the book?”
“I always read on the loo.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and I narrowed my eyes back.
“Very well,” she said finally, “but I’m coming with you.”
She smiled at the two lucky winners of her crazy competition, who were outside in the corridor. They smiled back through the half-glazed office door and we both trotted into the ladies’.
“Ten minutes,” she said to me as I locked myself in a cubicle. I opened the book and started to read:
“Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so