The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [496]
“How are you doing?” asked Joffy, who, as well as being a minister for the GSD and several other smaller denominations, was also head of the Idolatry Friends of St. Zvlkx.
“Fine. Isn’t that Lydia Startright?”
I was pointing at a well-dressed female reporter readying herself for a broadcast.
“She’s about to interview me. How do I look?”
“Very . . . ecclesiastical.”
“Good. Excuse me.”
He straightened his dog collar and walked over to join Lydia. She was standing next to her producer, a small and curiously unappealing man who was so unoriginal of thought that he still considered it cool and desirable for people in the media to wear black.
“What time is old Zvlkxy due to appear?” the producer asked Joffy.
“In about five minutes.”
“Good. Lyds, we better go live.”
Lydia composed herself, took one more look at her notes, awaited the count-in of the producer, gave a welcoming smile and began.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is Lydia Startright for Toad News Network, reporting live from Swindon. In under five minutes, St. Zvlkx, the obscure and sometimes controversial thirteenth-century saint, is due to be resurrected here, live on regional TV.”
She turned to indicate the weathered pieces of stone, previously ignored by thousands of shoppers but now the center of attention.
“On this spot once stood the towering Cathedral of Swindon, founded by St. Zvlkx in the thirteenth century. Where the wet fish counter now stands was where St. Zvlkx penned his Book of Revealments containing seven sets of prophecies, five of which have already come true. To help us through the quagmire of claims and counterclaims I have with me the Very Irreverent Joffy Next, head of the church of the Global Standard Deity here in Swindon, speaker at the the Idolatry Friends of St. Zvlkx and something of an expert in things Zvlkxian. Hello, Joffy, welcome to the show.”
“Thank you, Lydia,” said Joffy. “We’re all big fans of yours at the GSD.”
“Thank you. So tell me, what exactly are the revealments?”
“Well,” he began, “details are understandably vague, but St. Zvlkx wrote a number of predictions in a small book before he vanished in a ‘cleansing fire’ in 1292. An incomplete copy of the revealments is in the Swindon City Library, but unlike the work of most of the other seers, who make vague and sweeping generalizations that are open to interpretation, St. Zvlkx’s predictions are refreshingly specific.”
“Perhaps you could give us an example?”
“Of course. Part of Zvlkx’s Revealment the First tells us that ‘a lowly butcher’s son from the town of Ipswich will rise to be Lord Chancellor. His name shall be Tommy Wolsey, and he will be inaugurated the day before Christmas, and shall get only one present, not two, as should be his right. . . .’ ”
“That’s uncannily accurate!” breathed Lydia.
“Indeed—existing letters from Cardinal Wolsey indicate most strongly that he was ‘vexed and annoyed’ at having to make do with only one present, something which he often spoke about and might have contributed, many years later, to his failure to persuade the Pope to grant Henry VIII an annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon.”
“Remarkable,” said Lydia. “What else?”
“Well,” continued Joffy, “Zvlkx’s Revealment the Second told us that ‘it shall be known as the “Sail of the Century”—an armada of over a hundred ships smelling of paella shall cross the Channel. Fire and wind will conspire to destroy them, England shall remain free.’ ”
“Not quite so good,” said Lydia.
“I agree,” replied Joffy. “Paella wasn’t invented until after the Spanish Armada. There are the odd mistakes, but even so, his accuracy is astonishing. Not only do his revealments include names and dates but also, on one occasion, a reliable phone number for a good time in Leeds. By the end of the sixteenth century, St. Zvlkx had been afforded that rare hallmark