Jasper Fforde - The Constant Rabbit

Ninety-seven per cent of all rabbit internet traffic was colony-to-colony. Within the warren and burrow, nearly all conversation and gossip were undertaken nose to nose, and a recent survey found that, given the levels to which rabbits like to gossip, news and views within the colony could travel faster than broadband, and were a lot more fun.

I came to my senses with a shocking headache, the taste of blood in my mouth and the smell of burning in my nostrils. The car had landed upright and was facing backwards at the bottom of a steep wooded slope. The burned-out Eldorado – much scavenged by tourists – remained in situ for a decade until removed for inclusion in the Event Museum at the repurposed MegaWarren Induction Centre. I visited this site a lot when I ran tours after the publication of my book, eight years after the Battle of May Hill.

The windscreen had vanished, the car’s bonnet had been folded up almost to the scuttle by the action of a large tree that had fared better than us in the altercation, and a wisp of smoke was rising from under the bonnet. I looked out of my window and could see that the car was resting in a cow pasture; three Friesian heifers stared at us with a look of extreme indifference while solemnly chewing the cud. Harvey was conscious and having trouble opening the car door, so he lay on his back on the front seat and gave the door an almighty kick with his powerful hind legs. The door was wrenched off its hinges and landed two dozen yards away.

‘What happened?’ I said, but Harvey just glanced at me and walked around to open the boot of the car.

‘C’mon,’ he said, ‘it’s time.’

He wasn’t speaking to me. He was speaking to another rabbit, who climbed out of the boot. He was identically dressed and, like Harvey, earless. But unlike Harvey, whose ears had recently been cropped – I could now see the stitches, which were of string – these were long-healed. It was Lugless.

‘Change of plan?’ said Lugless in a surprisingly meek tone. ‘That was never eight hours.’

‘There was an unforeseen hiccup,’ said Harvey, ‘but a deal’s a deal.’

Small tongues of flame were now visibly curling around the crumpled bonnet, but I think I was too confused by the turn of events to assess the sort of danger I was in. As I watched from the back seat, Lugless climbed into the car and placed himself behind the wheel.

‘You have them?’ he asked.

‘Here,’ said Harvey, and handed him what looked like two short and very withered scrolls tied up with red ribbon. Lugless took them with the greatest of reverence and held them tight to his body.

‘By the power vested in me by the Venerable Bunty,’ said Harvey, ‘and in deference to the indulgence bestowed upon you, I declare upon the name and spirit of Lago, the Grand Matriarch, that your mortal sins are expunged. You go to your maker as pure, and complete, as the circle of trust that binds us all, which took our saviour, and the unbreakable bond that joins all rabbits. 54 54. I am to this day confused as to why Harvey didn’t speak to Lugless in Rabbity. Either he was speaking for my benefit or Lugless wasn’t considered rabbit enough to be treated as such. There may have been another reason. I will never know. ’

I saw Lugless take a deep breath, and bow his head, and Harvey made the sign of the circle on his forehead. The flames were quite high now, and Harvey bowed again, took a step back, coughed and looked at me.

‘Are you staying in there or what?’

I rapidly came to my senses and clambered out of the car, relieved to find I had no broken bones – just a twisted knee.

‘Is he staying in there?’ I asked.

‘He’s at peace,’ said Harvey, ‘and whole. I have to leave now, but you and I will meet again, at the place and time the Venerable Bunty completes the circle.’

‘How do you know I’ll be there?’ I asked.

‘Because Bunty has foreseen it. She foresees everything . When you feel the time is right, tell Pippa that what happened between us was real, and she knows where to find me if she can love a half-rabbit.’

And he then made the circle of trust on my forehead, smiled and vanished off across the fields in a series of rapid bounces, each covering a good twenty yards. I meant to ask him what the two dried scrolls were that he’d handed to Lugless, but I think it was fairly obvious. They were Lugless’s ears.

I turned back to the Eldorado, which was now well alight. Molten plastic dripped from the engine bay as little smoking raindrops of fire, and the heat was blistering the paint on the bonnet.

‘I always knew I’d eventually find a rabbit I couldn’t turn,’ Lugless said, staring straight ahead, ‘and there would always be one who would eventually turn me. But everything comes to an end.’

I put up one arm to shield the heat from my face and stepped forward, stretching out my other hand for him to take.

‘Join me out here,’ I said, ‘you don’t need to do this.’

He smiled as the flames started to lick around him, the smell of singed fur now in the air. Douglas AY-002 turned to me and gave a wry smile.

‘Humans,’ he said, ‘so little time – so much to know.’

He turned back towards the steering wheel and held his newly returned ears closer to him as the flames consumed him.

He didn’t make a single sound. Not a squeak not a whimper – nothing.

Help was not long in arriving owing to the telltale pall of black smoke and the gap in the fencing. I was still trembling when the ambulance took me to Hereford General, accompanied by a Taskforce officer whom I didn’t recognise. They kept me in overnight for observation given the clout on my head, but aside from a few cuts and bruises and the twisted knee, I was unhurt. I was supervised throughout, even my phone call to Pippa, who expressed concern and offered to come and visit, but I told her she shouldn’t.

No one had noticed that Harvey had been a Miffy, except me. As far as anyone was concerned, the earless rabbit who visited MegaWarren was the same one who had died transporting a compromised Taskforce employee back to base.

I was allowed a shower without supervision and driven the following morning to the Nigel Smethwick Centre and given some breakfast in the canteen, again supervised, then told to wait in one of the interview rooms. It didn’t occur to me until later that Connie would have been hauled in for questioning too, but she was.

I sat there for maybe an hour, conscious of not only my predicament here, but also that the clock was ticking – the Mallett brothers had given Pippa, myself and the Rabbits until this evening at ten to leave Much Hemlock – and they’d probably worked out none of us were playing ball. Tonight would be the night I made a stand – and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

The spartan interview room was clean and warm but otherwise unremarkable. The table was bolted to the floor, but the plastic chairs could be moved. In the centre of the table was a large brass ring for potential restraint, but it seemed little used. When it came down to it, rabbits just weren’t violent unless pushed into a corner, and even then were far more likely to use reasoned debate than tooth and claw.

The door opened at a little after eleven, and Whizelle walked in accompanied by Flemming. They sat down opposite me and placed a mug of coffee on the table. It was the good stuff, not RabCoT canteen or chain muck. I was being schmoozed.

‘How are you feeling, Peter?’ asked Flemming.

‘Bruised, but OK, thanks.’

‘We’re glad of that,’ said Whizelle. ‘The loss of Douglas AY-002 is a serious annoyance as he was one of only three rabbits the Taskforce implicitly trusted, and “tragic car accidents” always need to be viewed with a degree of suspicion, especially on clear roads, in good weather.’