The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [257]
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying—”
“You are not, my girl. There are two sorts of people in this world, doers and tryers. You are the latter and I am trying to make you the former. Now concentrate, girl!”
So I had another attempt at the negative page number idea and this time found myself in a curious tableau resembling the graveyard in Chapter One but with the graves, wall and church little more than cardboard cutouts. The two featured characters, Magwitch and Pip, were also very two-dimensional and as still as statues—except that their eyes swiveled to look at me as I jumped in.
“Oi,” hissed Magwitch between clenched teeth, not moving a muscle. “Piss off.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Piss off!” repeated Magwitch, this time more angrily.
I was just pondering over all this when Havisham caught up with me, grabbed my hand and jumped to where we were meant to be.
“What was that?” I asked.
“The frontispiece. You’re not a natural at this, are you?”
“I’m afraid not,” I replied, feeling like a bit of a clot.
“Never mind,” said Miss Havisham in a kindlier tone, “we’ll make a Prose Resource Operative out of you yet.”
We walked down the darkened jetty to where Havisham’s boat was moored. But it wasn’t any old boat. It was a polished-wood and gleaming-chrome Riva. I stepped aboard the beautifully built motor launch and stowed the gear as Miss Havisham sat in the skipper’s seat.
Miss Havisham seemed to take on a new lease of life when confronted by anything with a powerful engine. I cast off when she ordered me to and pushed off into the oily black waters of the Thames. The boat rocked slightly as I sat down next to Havisham, who fired up the twin Chevrolet petrol engines with a throaty growl and then gently piloted our way into the darkness of the river. I pulled two cloaks from the bag, donned one and took the other to Miss Havisham, who was standing at the helm, the wind blowing through her gray hair and tugging at her tattered veil.
“Isn’t this a bit anachronistic?” I asked.
“Officially yes,” replied Havisham, weaving to avoid a small jolly-boat, “but we’re actually in the backstory minus one day, so I could have brought in a squadron of hurricanes and the entire Ringling Brothers circus and no one would be any the wiser. If we had to do this any time during the book then we’d be stuck with whatever was available—which can be a nuisance.”
We were moving upriver against a quickening tide. It had gone midnight and I was glad of the cloak. Billows of fog blew in from the sea and gathered in great banks that caused Miss Havisham to slow down; within twenty minutes the fog had closed in and we were alone in the cold and clammy darkness. Miss Havisham shut down the engines and doused the navigation lights, and we gently drifted in with the tide.
“Sandwich and soup?” said Miss Havisham, peering in the picnic basket.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Do you want my wagonwheel?”
“I was about to offer you mine.”
We heard the prison ships before we saw them, the sound of men coughing and cursing and the occasional shout of fear. Miss Havisham started the engines and idled slowly in the direction of the sounds. Then the mist parted and we could see the prison hulk appear in front of us as a large black shape that rose from the water, the only light visible the oil lamps that flickered through the gunports. The old man-of-war was secured fore and aft by heavily rusted anchor chains against which flotsam had collected in a tangle. After checking the name of the ship Miss Havisham slowed down and stopped the engines. We drifted down the flanks of the prison hulk, and I used the boathook to fend us off. The gunports were above us and out of reach, but as we moved silently down the ship we came across a homemade rope draped from a window on the upper gun deck. I quickly fastened the boat to a projecting ring, and the motor launch swung around and settled facing the current.
“Now what?” I hissed.
Miss Havisham pointed to the life preserver, and I quickly tied it onto the end of the homemade rope.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it,” replied Miss