Terry Pratchett - Unseen Academicals

‘Oh, I don’t think I should like that at all,’ said Nutt, ‘and may I kindly remind you my name is not plural, thank you.’

‘’ave you ever seen a game of football?’

‘No, Mister Trev.’

‘Then I’ll take you to the match tomorrow. I don’t play, o’course, but I never miss a game if I can ’elp it,’ said Trev. ‘No edged weapons, prob’ly. The season starts soon, everyone’s warming up.’

‘Well, that is very kind of you, but I—’

‘Tell you what, I’ll pick you up down ’ere at one o’clock.’

‘But people will look at me!’ said Nutt. And in his head he could hear Ladyship’s voice, calm and cool as ever: Do not stand out. Be part of the crowd.

‘No, they won’t. Trust me on that,’ said Trev. ‘I can sort that out. Enjoy your pie. I’m off.’

He pulled a tin can out of his coat pocket, dropped it on to his foot, flicked it into the air, toed it a few times so it spun and twinkled like some celestial object and then kicked it very hard so it sailed off down the huge gloomy room a few feet above the vats, rattling slightly. Against all probability it stopped in its flight a few feet from the far wall, spun for a moment and then started to come back with, it seemed to the amazed Nutt, a greater speed than before.

Trev caught it effortlessly and dropped it back into his pocket.

‘How can you do that, Mister Trev?’ said Nutt, astonished.

‘Never thought about it,’ said Trev. ‘But I always wonder why everyone else can’t. It’s just about the spinning. It’s not hard. See yer tomorrow, okay? And don’t forget that name.’

The horse buses were not much faster than walking, but it wasn’t you doing the walking, and there were seats and a roof and a guard with a battle-axe and all in all it was, in the damp grey hours before dawn, good value for tuppence. Glenda and Juliet sat side by side, rocking gently to the sway, lost in their thoughts. At least Glenda was; Juliet could get lost in half a thought, if that.

But Glenda had become an expert at knowing when Juliet was going to speak. It was rather like the sense a sailor has that the wind is going to change. There were little signs, as if a thought had to get the beautiful brain warmed up and spinning before anything could happen.

‘Who was that boy what come up for his bubble and squeak?’ she asked nonchalantly, or what she probably thought was nonchalantly, or again, what she might have thought was nonchalantly had she known that there was a word like nonchalantly.

‘That’s Trevor Likely,’ said Glenda. ‘And you don’t want anything to do with him.’

‘Why not?’

‘He’s a Dimmer! Fancies himself as a Face, too. And his dad was Big Dave Likely! Your dad would go mad if he heard you’d even talked to him.’

‘He’s got a lovely smile,’ said Juliet, with a wistfulness that rang all kinds of alarms for Glenda.

‘He’s a scallywag,’ she said firmly. ‘He’ll try on anything. Can’t keep his hands to himself, too.’

‘How come you knows that?’ said Juliet.

That was another worrying thing about Juliet. Nothing much seemed to be going on between those perfect ears for hours on end and then a question like that would come spinning towards you with edges on it.

‘You know, you should try to speak better,’ Glenda said, to change the subject. ‘With your looks you could snag a man who thinks about more than beer and footie. Just speak with a little more class, eh? You don’t have to sound like—’

‘My fare, lady?’

They looked up at the guard, who was holding his axe in a way that was very nearly not threatening. And when it came to looking up, this was not a long way. The axe’s owner was very short.

Glenda gently pushed the weapon out of the way. ‘Don’t wave it about, Roger,’ she sighed. ‘It doesn’t impress.’

‘Oh, sorry, Miss Glenda,’ said the dwarf, what was visible of his face behind the beard colouring with embarrassment. ‘It’s been a long shift. That will be fourpence, ladies. Sorry about the axe, but we’ve been getting people jumping off without paying.’

‘He ought to be sent back to where he came from,’ muttered Juliet, as the guard moved on along the bus. Glenda chose not to rise to this. As far as she had been able to tell, up until today, at least, her friend had no opinions of her own, and simply echoed anything other people said to her. But then she couldn’t resist. ‘That would be Treacle Mine Road, then. He was born in the city.’

‘He’s a Miners fan, then? I suppose it could be worse.’

‘I don’t think dwarfs bother much about football,’ said Glenda.

‘I don’t fink you can be a real Morporkian an’ not shout for your team,’ was the next piece of worn-out folk wisdom from Juliet. Glenda let this one pass. Sometimes, arguing with her friend was like punching mist. Besides, the plodding horses were laboriously passing their street. They got off without missing a step.

The door to Juliet’s house was covered in the ancient remnants of multiple layers of paint, or, rather, multiple layers of paint that had bubbled up into tiny little mountains over the years. It was always the cheapest paint possible. After all, you could afford to buy beer or you could afford to buy paint and you couldn’t drink paint unless you were Mr Johnson at number fourteen, who apparently drank it all the time.

‘Now, I won’t tell your dad that you were late,’ said Glenda, opening the door for her. ‘But I want you in early tomorrow, all right?’

‘Yes, Glenda,’ said Juliet meekly.

‘And no thinking about that Trevor Likely.’

‘Yes, Glenda.’ It was a meek reply, but Glenda recognized the sparkle. She’d seen it in the mirror once.

But now she cooked an early breakfast for widow Crowdy, who occupied the house on the other side and couldn’t get about much these days, made her comfortable, did the chores in the rising light, and finally went to bed.

Her last thought as she plummeted into sleep was: Don’t goblins steal chickens? Funny, he doesn’t look the type…

At half past eight, a neighbour woke her up by throwing gravel at her window. He wanted her to come and look at his father, described as ‘poorly’, and the day began. She had never needed to buy an alarm clock.

Why did other people need so much sleep? It was a permanent puzzle for Nutt. It got boring by himself.

Back in the castle in Uberwald there had always been someone around to talk to. Ladyship liked the night-time and wouldn’t go out in bright sunshine at all, so a lot of visitors came then. He had to stay out of sight, of course, but he knew all the passages in the walls and all the secret spy-holes. He saw the fine gentlemen, always in black, and the dwarfs with iron armour that gleamed like gold (later, down in his cellar that smelled of salt and thunderstorms, Igor showed him how it was made). There were trolls, too, looking a bit more polished than the ones he’d learned to run away from in the forests. He especially remembered the troll that shone like a jewel (Igor said his skin was made of living diamond). That alone would have been enough to glue him into Nutt’s memory, but there had been that moment, one day when the diamond troll was seated at the big table with other trolls and dwarfs, when the diamond eyes had looked up and had seen Nutt, looking through a tiny, hidden spy-hole at the other end of the room. Nutt was convinced of it. He’d jerked away from the hole so quickly that he’d banged his head on the wall opposite.

He’d grown to know his way around all the cellars and workshops in Ladyship’s castle. Go anywhere you wish, talk to everyone. Ask any questions; you will be given answers. When you want to learn, you will be taught. Use the library. Open any book.