Jasper Fforde - The Well of Lost Plots

I ran up the stairs and to the works of Dylan Thomas, picked up a slim volume of poetry and concentrated on my exit point in the Outland. To my delight it worked and I was catapulted out of fiction and into an untidy heap in a small bookshop in Laugharne, Thomas's old village in South Wales. Now a shrine for Welsh and non-Welsh visitors alike, the bookshop was one of eight in the village selling nothing but Welsh literature and Thomas memorabilia.

There was a scream from a startled book-buyer as I appeared and I stepped backwards in alarm only to fall over a pile of Welsh cookery books. I got up and ran from the shop as a car screeched to a halt in front of me. Pendine Sands with its ten miles of flat beach was down the coast from Laugharne and I would need transport to get me there.

I showed the driver my Jurisfiction badge, which looked official even if it meant nothing, and said, in my very best Welsh:

'Esgipysgod fi ond ble mae bws i Pendine?'

She got the message and drove me along the road towards Pendine. Before we arrived I could see Bluebird on the sands, together with Mr Toad's car and a small group of people. The tide was out and a broad expanse of inviting smooth sand greeted Miss Havisham; as I watched, my pulse racing, two plumes of black smoke erupted from the back of the record-breaker as the engines fired up. Even through the window I could hear the guttural cry of the engines.

' Dewch ymlaen! ' I urged the driver, and we swerved on to the car park just near the statue of John Parry Thomas. I ran down on to the beach, waving my arms and yelling, but no one heard me above the roar of the engines, and even if they had, there was little reason for them to take any notice.

'Hi!' I shouted. 'Miss Havisham!'

I ran as fast as I could but only exhausted myself so that I ran more slowly with every passing step.

'Stop!' I yelled, getting weaker and breathless. 'For pity's sake—!'

But it was too late. With another deep growl the car moved off and started to gather speed across the sand. I stopped and dropped to my knees, trying to gulp deep lungfuls of air, my heart racing. The car hurtled away from me, the engine roar fading as Miss Havisham tore along the hard sand. I watched it go at medium speed to the far end of the beach, then turn in a large arc for the first of her two runs. The engine growled again, rising to a high scream as the car gathered speed, the driving wheels throwing a shower of sand and pebbles far behind it. I willed her to be safe and for nothing to happen, and indeed, nothing did until she was decelerating after the first run. I was breathing a sigh of relief when one of the front wheels broke loose and was dragged beneath the car, throwing it up into the air. The front edge of the bodywork dug into the sand and the car swerved violently sideways. I heard a cry of fear from the small crowd and a series of sickening thuds as the car rolled end over end down the beach, the engine screaming out of control as the wheels gripped nothing but air. It came to rest right way up not five hundred yards from me, and I ran towards it. I was three hundred yards away when the petrol tank ignited in a mushroom of fire that lifted the three-ton car from the sand. When I got there I found that by some miracle she had survived. Perhaps it would have been better if she hadn't — Miss Havisham was horribly burned.

'Water!' I cried. 'Water for her burns!'

The small crowd of onlookers were hopeless and could do nothing but stare at us in shock.

'Thursday?' she murmured although she couldn't see me. 'Please take me home.'

I'd never jumped dual, taking someone with me, but I did it now. I jumped clean out of Pendine and into Great Expectations , right into Miss Havisham's room at Satis House, next to the rotting wedding party that never was, the darkened room, the clocks stopped at twenty to nine. It was the place where I had first seen her all those weeks ago, and it would be the place I saw her last. I laid her on the bed and tried to make her comfortable.

'Dear Thursday,' she said. 'They got to me, didn't they?'

'Who, Miss Havisham?'

'I don't know.'

She started coughing and for a moment I didn't think she would stop.

'You are close to me, my dear — they will come for you next!'

'But why, Miss Havisham, why?'

She grabbed my wrist and stared at me with her piercing grey eyes which had not wavered in their resolve for even one moment.

'Here,' she said, handing me her Ultra Word™ copy of The Little Prince , 'you try!'

'But—'

'I will not survive this,' she whispered, 'but I have enough strength to make a good exit. Hand me the brandy and take me to my last appearance in the book; I will make my peace with Pip and Estella. It is for the best, I think.'

News of Miss Havisham's accident got around Great Expectations quickly; I made up a story about her falling in the fire and invited Pip to come up and try to improvise her death scene. He was upset but it did give him a good motivation to go back up to Satis House for the incident at the lime kilns. They discussed it together, she and Pip, and when they were ready I said my goodbyes and left the room. I waited outside with a heavy heart and tensed as there a shriek and a flickering orange light shone beneath the door. I heard Pip curse, and then more thumps and shouts as he smothered the fire with his cape. Jaw clenched, I walked away, my heart heavy with loss. She had been bossy and obnoxious on occasion but she had protected me and taught me well. I would remember her until my dying days.

I walked into the Jurisfiction offices an hour later and tingled the Bellman's bell. It was a signal for the immediate attention of the Bellman, and within a few moments he had appeared, still with a napkin stuck in his collar from lunch. I sat down and explained what had happened. When he heard, he needed to sit down, too.

'Where is the Bluebird now?' he asked.

'Back at the stores,' I replied. 'I've ordered an investigation; it looks as though the stub axle failed through metal fatigue.'

'An accident?'

I nodded my head. They hadn't got to her after all. Despite all that had happened, I still had less than nothing suspicious to pin on her death, and only a misplaced key on Perkins'. Motor racing has its own share of dangers, and Havisham knew that more than most.

'How long has she got?'

'They're improvising her death scene in Expectations as we speak. The doctor said a chapter at most — as long as we can keep references or appearances to a minimum.'

He patted me on the shoulder.

'We'll have to get an A-grade Generic trained to take her place,' he said softly. ' Expectations won't be demolished.'

He turned to me.

'You're off the active list for a few days, Miss Next. Take it easy at home and we'll get some quiet jobs for you to do until you're ready to return to full duties.'

Tweed appeared.

'What's going on?' he demanded. 'They told me—'

The Bellman took him by the arm and explained what had happened as I thought about Havisham and life without her. Tweed approached and laid a hand upon my shoulder.