Lost in a Good Book

‘I expected more from you, Bowden,’ said Flakk crossly, then turned to me. ‘Now, Thursday. We promised these two people they could meet you. Do you really want to disappoint them? Your public, you know.’

‘They’re not my public, Cordelia, they’re yours. You made them for me.’

‘I’ve had to keep them at the Finis for another night,’ said Cordelia. ‘Costs are escalating. They’re downstairs right now. I knew you’d be in for your assessment. How did you do, by the way?’

‘Don’t ask.’

I looked at Bowden, who shrugged. Looking for some sort of rescue, I twisted on my seat, looking over to where Victor was running a possible unpublished sequel to 1984 entitled 1985 through the Prose Analyser. All the other members of the office were busy at their various tasks. It looked as if my PR career was just about to restart.

I sighed. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’

‘Better than hiding under the desk,’ said Bowden. ‘All that jumping around is probably not good for the baby.’

He clapped his hand over his mouth but it was too late.

‘Baby?’ echoed Cordelia. ‘What baby?’

‘Thanks, Bowden.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Well, congratulations!’ said Cordelia, hugging me. ‘Who is the lucky father?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You mean you haven’t told him yet?’

‘No, I mean I don’t know. My husband, hopefully.’

‘You’re married?’

‘No’

‘But you said—?’

‘Yes, I did,’ I retorted as drily as I could. ‘Confusing, isn’t it?’

‘This is very bad PR,’ muttered Cordelia darkly, sitting on the edge of the desk to steady herself. ‘The leading light of SpecOps knocked up in a bus shelter by someone she doesn’t even know!’

‘Cordelia, it’s not like that, and I wasn’t “knocked up”—and who mentioned anything about bus shelters? Perhaps the best thing would be if you kept this under your hat and we pretended that Bowden never said anything.’

‘Sorry.’

Cordelia leapt to her feet.

‘Good thinking, Next. We can tell everyone you have water retention or an eating disorder brought on by stress.’ Her face fell. ‘No, that won’t work. The Toad will see through it like a shot. Can’t you get married really quickly to someone? What about Bowden? Bowden, would you do the decent thing for the sake of SpecOps?’

‘I’m seeing someone over at SpecOps 13,’ replied Bowden hurriedly.

‘Blast!’ muttered Flakk. ‘Thursday, any ideas?’

But this was an aspect of Bowden I knew nothing about.

‘You never told me you were seeing someone over at SO-13!’

‘I don’t have to tell you everything.’

‘But I’m your partner, Bowden!’

‘Well, you never told me about Miles.’

‘Miles?’ exclaimed Cordelia. ‘The oh-so-handsome-to-die-for Miles Hawke?’

‘Thanks, Bowden.’

‘Sorry.’

‘That’s wonderful!’ exclaimed Cordelia, clapping her hands together. ‘A dazzling couple! “SpecOps wedding of the year!” This is worth soooooo much coverage! Does he know?’

‘No. And you’re not going to tell him. And what’s more—Bowden—it might not even be his.’

‘Which puts us back to square one again!’ responded Cordelia in a huff. ‘Stay here. I’m going to fetch this chap and his daughter. Bowden, don’t let her out of your sight!’

And she was gone.

Bowden stared at me for a moment and then asked:

‘Do you really believe the baby is Landen’s?’

‘I’m hoping.’

‘You’re not married, Thurs. You might think you are but you’re not. I looked at the records Landen Parke- Laine died in 1947.’

‘This time he did. My father and I went—’

‘You don’t have a father, Thursday. There is no record of anyone on your birth certificate. I think maybe you should speak to one of the stressperts.’

‘And end up doing comedy stand-up, arranging pebbles or counting blue cars? No thanks.’

There was a pause.

‘He is very handsome,’ said Bowden.

‘Who?’

‘Miles Hawke, of course.’

‘Oh. Yes, yes, I know he is.’

‘Very polite, very popular.’

‘I know that.’

‘A child without a father—’

‘Bowden, I’m not in love with him and it isn’t his baby—okay?’

‘Okay, okay. Let’s forget it.’

We sat there in silence for a bit. I played with a pencil and Bowden stared out of the window.

‘What about the voices?’

‘Bowden!’

‘Thursday, this is for your own good. You told me you heard them yourself and Officers Hurdyew, Tolkien and Lissning heard you talking and listening to someone in the upstairs corridor.’

‘Well, the voices have stopped,’ I said categorically. ‘Nothing like that will ever happen again.’ [17]

‘Oh, shit.’ [18]

‘What do you mean, “oh, shit”?’

‘Nothing—just, well, that. I’ve got to use the ladies’ room—would you excuse me?’

I left Bowden shaking his head sadly and was soon in the ladies’. I checked that the stalls were empty and then said. ‘Miss Havisham, are you there?’ [19]

‘You must understand, Miss Havisham, that where I come from customs are different from your own. People curse here as a matter of course.’ [20]

‘I’ll be there directly, ma’am!’

I bit my lip and hurriedly rushed out of the ladies’, grabbed my Jurisfiction travel book and my jacket, and was heading back when—

‘Thursday!’ came a loud and strident voice that I knew could only be Flakk’s. ‘I’ve got the winner and his daughter outside in the corridor!’

‘I’m sorry, Cordelia, but I have to go to the loo.’

‘Don’t think I’m going to fall for that one again,’ she growled under her breath.

‘It’s true this time.’

‘And the book?’

‘I always read on the loo.’

She narrowed her eyes at me and I narrowed my eyes back.