Jasper Fforde - The Well of Lost Plots

'The table!' she gasped. 'It's—!'

'You can do it, Miss Pittman,' I told her. 'Just place the tea where you always do.'

She moved forward, following the well-worn path, arrived at where the table used to be and then looked at its new position, two strides away. The smooth and unworn carpet was alien and frightening to her; it might as well have been a bottomless chasm. She stopped dead.

'I don't understand—!' she began, her face bewildered as her hands began to shake.

'Tell her to put the tea things down,' I told the auctioneer, who was becoming as distressed as Miss Pittman — perhaps more so. 'TELL HER!'

'Thank you, Miss Pittman,' murmured Mr Phillips, his voice croaking with emotion, 'put the tea things down over here, would you?'

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, raised her foot and held it, quivering, above the edge of the shiny floorboards. Then she moved it forward and rested it on the soft carpet. She opened her eyes, looked down and beamed at us both.

'Well done!' I said. 'Just two more.'

Brimming with confidence, she negotiated the two remaining steps with ease and placed the tray on the table. She and Mr Phillips were closer now than they had ever been before. She put out a hand to touch his lapel, but checked herself quickly.

'Shall … shall I pour you a cup?' she asked.

'Thank you!' exclaimed Mr Phillips. 'Milk and—'

'—one sugar.' She smiled shyly. 'Yes, yes, I know.'

She poured the tea and handed the cup and saucer to him. He took it gratefully.

'Mr Phillips?'

'Yes?'

'Do I have a first name?'

'Of course,' he replied quietly and with great emotion. 'I have had over thirty years to think about it. Your name is Aurora, as befits somebody as beautiful as the dawn.'

She covered her nose and mouth to hide her smile and blushed deeply. Mr Phillips raised a shaking hand to touch her cheek but stopped as he remembered that I was still present. He nodded imperceptibly in my direction and said:

'Thank you, Miss Pittman — perhaps later you might come in for some … dictation .'

'I look forward to it, Mr Phillips!'

And she turned, trod softly on the carpet to the door, looked round once more and went out. When I looked back at Mr Phillips he had sat down, drained by the emotionally charged encounter.

'Do we have a deal?' I asked him. 'Or do I put the table back where it was?'

He looked shocked.

'You wouldn't?'

'I would.'

He considered his position for a moment and then offered me his hand.

'Pigs at treble the going rate?'

'Top of page two thirty-two.'

'Deal.'

Pleased with my actions so far, I collected the dog and jumped forward to the middle of page 232. By now the sale of Johnny's father's pigs was the talk of the town, and had even made it into the headlines of the local papers: Unprecedented pig price shocks town . There was only one thing left to do — replace the blind collie with the sighted one.

'I'm looking for the vet,' I said to a passer-by.

'Are you?' replied the woman amiably. 'Good for you!' and she hurried on.

'Could you tell me the way to the vet?' I asked the next person, a sallow man in a tweed suit. He was no less literal.

'Yes I could,' he replied, attempting to walk on. I tried to grasp him by the sleeve but missed and momentarily clasped his hand. He gasped out loud. This was echoed by two women who had witnessed the incident. They started to gossip volubly. I pulled out my ID.

'Jurisfiction,' I told him, adding: 'On official business,' just to make sure he got the picture.

But something had happened. The inhabitants of the village, who up until that moment had seemed to wander the streets like automatons, were all of a sudden animated individuals, talking, whispering and pointing. I was a stranger in a strange land, and while the inhabitants didn't seem hostile, I was clearly an object of considerable interest.

'I need to get to the vet,' I said loudly. 'Now can anyone tell me where he lives?'

Two ladies who had been chattering suddenly smiled and nodded to one another.

'We'll show you where he works.'

I left the first man still staring at his hand and looking at me in an odd way.

I followed the ladies to a small building set back from the road. I thanked them both. One of them, I noticed, remained at the gate while the other bustled away with a purposeful stride. I rang the doorbell.

'Hello?' said the vet, opening the door and looking surprised; he only had one client booked in that day — Johnny and Shadow. The vet was meant to tell the young lad how Shadow would stay blind for ever.

'This dog,' said the vet automatically, 'will never see again. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is.'

'Jurisfiction,' I told him, showing him my ID. 'There's been a change of plan.'

'If you're exchanging golliwogs for monkeys, you're in the wrong book,' he said.

'This isn't Noddy ,' I told him.

'What sort of change, then?' he asked as I gently forced my way in and closed the door. 'Are you here to alter the less-than-savoury references to stereotypical gypsy folk in chapters XIII to XV?'

'We'll get round to that, don't you worry.'

I wasn't going to take any chances and go through the same rigmarole as I had with Mr Phillips, so I looked around furtively and said in a conspiratorial whisper:

'I shouldn't be telling you this, but … wicked men are planning to steal Shadow and sell him off for medical experiments!'

'No!' exclaimed the vet, eyes open wide.

'Indeed,' I replied, adding in a hushed tone: 'And what's more, we suspect that these men might not even be British.'

'You mean …Johnny Foreigners?' asked the vet, visibly shocked.

'Probably French. Now, are you with me on this?'

'Absolutely!' he breathed. 'What are we going to do?'

'Swap dogs. When Johnny arrives you tell him to go outside for a moment, we swap the dogs, when he comes back you unwrap the bandages, the dog can see — and you say this dialogue instead.'

I handed him a scrap of paper. He looked at it thoughtfully.

'So Shadow stays here and the swapped Shadow is abducted by Johnny Foreigner and used for medical experiments?'

'Something like that. But not a word to anyone, you understand?'

'Word of honour!' replied the vet.

So I gave him the collie and, sure enough, when Johnny brought in the blinded Shadow, the vet told him to go and get some water, we swapped dogs and, when Johnny returned, lo and behold, the dog could see again. The vet feigned complete surprise and Johnny, of course, was delighted. They left soon after.

I stepped from the office where I had been hiding. How did I do?' asked the vet, washing his hands.

'Perfect. There could be a medal in it for you.'

It all seemed to have gone swimmingly well. I couldn't believe my luck. But more than that, I had the feeling that Havisham might actually be quite proud of her apprentice — at the very least this should make up for having to rescue me from the grammasites. Pleased, I opened the door to the street and was surprised to find that a lot of the locals had gathered, and they all seemed to be staring at me. My feeling of euphoria over the completed mission suddenly evaporated as unease welled up inside me.

'It's time! It's time!' announced one of the ladies I had seen earlier.

'Time for what?'

'Time for a wedding!'

'Whose?' I asked, not unreasonably.

'Why yours , of course!' she answered happily. 'You touched Mr Townsperson's hand. You are betrothed. It is the law !'

The crowd surged towards me and I reached, not for my gun, but for my TravelBook in order to get out quickly. It was the wrong choice. Within a few moments I had been overpowered. They took my book and gun, then held me tightly and propelled me towards a nearby house where I was forced into a wedding dress that had seen a lot of previous use and was several sizes too big.