The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [601]
Article in the Swindon Daily Eyestrain, September 7, 1988
I was well enough to be given an award three weeks later at a mayoral lunch. Lord Volescamper presented the whole SuperHoop team with a special “Swindon Star” medal, especially struck for the purpose. The only neanderthal to show up was Stig, who understood what it meant to me, even if he couldn’t truly understand the concept of individual aggrandizement.
There was a party afterwards, and everyone wanted to chat to me, mostly to ask me if I would play any more professional croquet. I met Handley Paige again, who jumped when he saw me and downed a drink nervously.
“I’ve decided not to kill off my Emperor Zhark character,” he announced quickly. “I’d just like to make that point right now, in case anyone might think I was going to stop writing Zhark books, which I’m not. Not at all. Not ever.” He looked around nervously.
“I’m sorry?” I said. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Oh . . . right,” he replied sarcastically, tried to drink from his empty glass and then strode off to the bar.
“What was all that about?” asked Landen.
“Search me.”
Spike was at the party, too, and he sidled up to me as I was fetching another drink.
“What did she say to you when she took your place?”
I turned to face him; I wasn’t surprised that he knew Cindy had replaced me. The semidead was his field of expertise, after all.
“She said that she wanted to make up for some of the misery she had caused, and she knew she would never hold either you or Betty again.”
“You could have refused her, but I’m glad you didn’t. I loved her, but she was rotten to the core.”
He fell silent for a moment and I touched him on the arm.
“Not entirely rotten, Spike. She loved you both very much.”
He looked at me and smiled.
“I know. You did the right thing, Thursday. Thank you.”
And he hugged me, and was gone.
I answered lots more questions regarding the SuperHoop match, and when I decided enough was enough, I asked Landen to take me home.
We drove towards home in the Speedster, Landen driving and Friday in a baby seat in the back, right next to Pickwick, who didn’t want to be left alone now that Alan had gone.
“Land?”
“Mmm?”
“Did you ever think it odd that I survived?”
“I’m grateful that you did, of course—”
“Stop the car a minute.”
“Why?”
“Just do as I say.”
He pulled up, and I very carefully climbed out and walked towards where two familiar figures were sitting on the pavement outside a Goliath Coffee Shop. I approached silently and sat down next to the larger of the two before he’d even noticed. He looked around and jumped visibly when he saw me.
“Once,” said a sad and familiar voice, “you would never have been able to sneak up on a Gryphon!”
I smiled. He was a creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. He wore spectacles and a scarf under his trench coat, which somewhat dented his otherwise fearsome appearance. He was fictional, to be sure, but he was also head of Jurisfiction’s legal team, my lawyer—and a friend.
“Gryphon!” I said with some surprise. “What are you doing in the Outland?”
“Here to see you,” he whispered, looking around and lowering his voice. “Have you met Mock Turtle? He’s now my number two at the legal desk.”
He gestured towards where a turtle with the head of a calf was staring mournfully into space. He was, like the Gryphon, straight out of the pages of Alice in Wonderland.
“How do you do?”
“Okay—I suppose,