The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [390]
And he walked out.
“Is she all right?” I called after him, but all we heard was the door to their bedroom slam shut. We looked at each other and shrugged.
“Where were we?”
“I was telling you how I never dream about Landen the way I used to. We used to go to the really great memories we shared. We never got to—you know—but it was wonderful—at least I had some control of where I went when the ‘Sable Goddess’ laid down her cloak.”
Gran looked at me and patted my hand reassuringly. “You need to make her feel she’s winning, Thursday. Lull her into a trap. She might think she is in command, but she’s only in your mind and you are the one that controls what you think. Our memories are precious and should never be sullied by an outside agent.”
“Of course—but how?”
“Well,” said Gran, passing me a chocolate she didn’t like, “it isn’t Aornis up there, my dear, it’s only your memory of her. She’s alone and afraid, too. Without the real Aornis here in the BookWorld she doesn’t have so much power; all she can do is try and—”
The door burst open again. This time it was Lola. She looked as though she had been crying. She stopped dead when she saw us.
“Ah!” she said. “Is rat-face shit-for-brains in?”
“Do you mean Randolph?”
“Who else?”
“Then, yes, he is.”
“Right!” she announced. “I’ll go and sleep over at Nemo’s.”
She started to leave.
“Wait!” I said. “What’s going on?”
She stopped and put her hands on her hips. Her bag slid down and hung off her elbow, which spoiled the illusion, but Lola was past caring.
“I went to meet him for coffee after college, and blow me if he’s not talking to that little D-2 runt—you know, the one with the squinty eyes and the stupid, snorty laugh?”
“Lola,” I said quietly, “they were probably just talking.”
She looked at her hands for a moment. “You’re right. And what do I care anyway? They clearly deserve one another!”
“I heard that!” said a voice from the back of the flying boat. Randolph strode into the room and waved a finger at Lola, who glared back angrily.
“You’ve got a nerve accusing me of being with another woman when you’ve slept with almost everyone at school!”
“And so what if I have?” screamed Lola. “Who are you, my father? Have you been spying on me?”
“Even the worst spy in the genre couldn’t fail to notice what you’re up to—don’t you know the meaning of the word discretion?”
“One-dimensional!”
“Cardboard!”
“Stereotype!”
“Predictable!”
“Jerkoff!”
“Arsehole!”
“Duck, Gran,” I whispered as Lola picked up a vase and threw it at Randolph. It missed and went sailing over the top of our heads to shatter on the far wall.
“Okay,” I said loudly, using my best and most assertive voice, “any more crap out of you two and you can live somewhere else. Randolph. You can sleep on the sofa. Lola, you can go to your room—and if I hear a peep out of either of you, I’ll have you both allocated to knitting patterns—get it?”
They went quiet, mumbled something about being sorry and walked slowly from the room.
“Oh, that was good, balls-for-brains,” muttered Lola as they moved off, “get us both into trouble, why don’t you?”
“Me?” he returned angrily. “Your knickers are off so often I’m amazed you bother with them at all.”
“Did you hear me?” I yelled after them, and there was quiet.
I sat down next to Gran again, who was picking bits of broken vase from the tabletop.
“Where were we?” she asked
“Er . . . retaking my memories?”
“Exactly so. She’ll be wanting to try and break you down, so things are going to get worse before they get better—only when she thinks she has defeated you can we go on the offensive.”
“What do you mean by getting worse? Hades? Landen’s eradication? Darren? How far do I have to go?”
“Back to the worst time of all—the truth about what happened during the charge.”
“Anton.” I groaned and rubbed my face. “I don’t want to go back there, Gran, I can’t!”
“Then she’ll pick away at your memory until there is nothing