Jasper Fforde - The Well of Lost Plots

'Ah!' said Gran as I walked through the door. 'There you are! How were things at work today?'

'Good and bad,' I told her, sitting on the sofa and undoing the top button of my trousers. 'The good news is I passed the Jurisfiction practical; the bad news is that I was found guilty of my fiction infraction.'

'What was the sentence?'

'I'll have to wait for that.'

'Waiting's the worst part,' she murmured. 'I was up for murder once and the worst part of it all was waiting for the jury to come back with their verdict. Longest eight hours of my life.'

'I believe you. Did you go home today?'

She nodded. 'I brought you a few bits and bobs. I notice there is no chocolate here in the WOLP — nothing worth eating, anyway.'

'Did you find anything out about Yorrick Kaine?'

'Not much,' replied Gran, eating the chocolate she had brought for me, 'but he's not in hiding or anything. He's bought another publishing house and at the same time trying to rebuild his political career after that Cardenio debacle.'

'Ah. Where are Lola and Randolph?'

'At a party, I think. You look all done in — why don't you get an early night?'

'And have what's-her-name pester me?'

She looked at me seriously through her large-framed spectacles. 'Aornis. It's Aornis. Remember?'

'Yes. Who was my husband again?'

'Landen. He was eradicated by the Chronoguard, yes?'

I remembered and my heart sank.

'Yes,' I said in a quiet voice. I had been happy in my non-remembering state but now I could feel the anger rising again.

'Sometimes I think it would be better if I just forgot, Gran.'

' Never say that, Thursday!' said Gran so sharply I jumped and she had to rest for a moment to get her breath back and eat a few more chocolates. 'Aornis has no right to take that which does not belong to her and you must be strong with her, and yourself— retake your memories!'

'Easier said than done, Gran,' I said, trying to grab a chocolate as they were pulled out of my reach. 'I want to dream about—'

'Landen.'

'Landen, yes — I want to dream about him again. He's there but we don't talk like we used to.'

The door banged open and Randolph walked in. He ignored us both and hung up his coat.

'Randolph?' I said. 'You okay?'

'Me?' he said, not looking at either of us. 'I'm fine. It's that tarty little bitchlet who's going to come to a sticky end — she can't talk to a man without wanting to add him to her collection!'

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 one another 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 who 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 silly 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,' she announced, '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 kitchen 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!'

'Jerk-off!'

'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 kitchen.

'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.

Gran was picking bits of broken vase from the table top. '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 left; she doesn't want that — she's after revenge. You have to go back to the Crimea, Thursday. Face up to the worst and grow stronger from it.'

'No,' I said, 'I won't go back there and you can't make me.'

I got up without a word and went to have a bath, trying to soak away the worries. Aornis, Landen, Goliath, the ChronoGuard and now Perkins and Snell's murders here in the BookWorld; I'd need a bath the size of Windermere to soak those away. I had come to Caversham Heights to stay away from crisis and conflict — but they seemed to follow me around like a stray dodo.

I stayed in the bath long enough to need to top it up with hot water twice, and when I came out I found Gran sitting on the laundry basket outside the door.

'Ready?' she asked softly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'I'm ready.'

I slept in my own bed — Gran said she would sit in the armchair and wake me if things looked as though they were getting out of hand. I stared at the ceiling, the gentle curve of the wooden panelling and the single-domed ceiling light. I stayed awake for hours, long after Gran had fallen asleep and dropped her copy of Tristram Shandy on the floor. Night and sleep had once been a time of joyous reunion with Landen, a collection of moments that I treasured: tea and hot buttered crumpets, curled up in front of a crackling log fire, or golden moments on the beach, cavorting in slow motion as the sun went down. But no longer. With Aornis about, my memory was now a battleground. And with the whistle of an artillery shell I was back where I least wanted to be — the Crimea.