The Eyre Affair

wheel in the river. I jumped out and fired at the retreating aircraft in a futile gesture until my gun was empty, half expecting Acheron to turn about and make a low pass, but he never did. The aircraft, with Hades, a forged Gainsborough and ten million pounds in dud notes, droned away into the distance.

We got out and looked at the damaged car.

‘A write-off,’ murmured Bowden after making a last position report over the wireless. ‘It won’t be long before Hades realises that the money we have given him is not of the highest quality.’

I stared at the aircraft, which was now a small dot on the horizon.

‘Heading into the Republic?’ suggested Bowden.

‘Could be,’ I replied, wondering how we should ever get to him if he took refuge in Wales. Extradition agreements did exist but Anglo-Welsh relations were not good and the Politburo tended to regard any enemy of the English as a friend.

‘What now?’ asked Bowden.

‘I’m not sure,’ I replied slowly, ‘but I think that if you’ve never read Martin Chuzzlewit you should do so as soon as possible. I’ve a feeling that as soon as Acheron finds he’s been hoodwinked Martin will be the first for the chop.’

Hades’ plane vanished into the distance. All was quiet except for the gentle lap of the river. I lay down on the grass and closed my eyes, attempting to get a few moments of peace before we were thrown back into the maelstrom of Goliath, Hades, Chuzzlewit and all the rest. It was a calm moment—the eye of the hurricane. But I wasn’t thinking about any of them. I was still thinking about Daisy Mutlar. The news about her and Landen was both expected and unexpected at the same time; he might have mentioned it, of course, but then, after a ten-year absence, he was under no obligation to do so. I found myself wondering what it would be like to have children and then wondering what it would be like never to know.

Bowden joined me on the grass. He took a shoe off and emptied out some gravel.

‘That post I was talking about in Ohio, you remember?’

‘Yes?’

‘They confirmed the appointment this morning.’

‘Terrific! When do you start?’

Bowden looked down. ‘I haven’t agreed to it yet.’

‘Why not?’

‘Have you ever—um—been to Ohio?’ he asked in an innocent tone of voice.

‘No; I’ve been to New York several times, though.’

‘It’s very beautiful, I am told.’

‘A lot of America is.’

‘They are offering me twice Victor’s pay.’

‘Good deal.’

‘And they said I could bring someone with me.’

‘Who do you have in mind?’

‘You.’

I looked at him, and his urgent and hopeful expression said it all. I hadn’t thought of him as a permanent boss or partner. I supposed that working with him might be like working under Boswell again. A workaholic who expected much the same from his charges.

‘That’s a very generous offer, Bowden.’

‘Then you’ll consider it?’

I shrugged. ‘I can’t think of anything beyond Hades. After living with him all day I had hoped that I would be spared his presence at night, but he is there too, leering at me in my dreams.’

Bowden had had no such dreams, but then he hadn’t seen as much of Hades as I had. We both lapsed into silence and stayed that way for an hour, watching the river flow languidly past until the tow truck arrived.

I stretched out in my mother’s huge iron bathtub and took a swig from the large G&T I had smuggled in with me. The garage had said they would have been happier to scrap the Speedster, but I told them to get it back on the road no matter what, as it still had important work to do. As I was drifting off to sleep in the warm pine-smelling waters there was a knock at the door. It was Landen.

‘Holy shit, Landen! Can’t a girl have a bath in peace?’

‘Sorry, Thurs.’

‘How did you get into the house?’

‘Your mother let me in.’

‘Did she now. What do you want?’

‘Can I come in?’

‘No.’

‘You spoke to Daisy.’

‘Yes I did. Are you really going to marry that cow?’

‘I understand you’re angry, Thursday. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I was going to tell you myself but you kind of dashed off the last time we were together.’

There was an awkward silence. I stared at the taps.

‘I’m getting on,’ said Landen finally. ‘I’ll be forty-one next June and I want a family.’

‘And Daisy will give you that?’

‘Sure; she’s a great girl, Thursday. She’s not you, of course, but she’s a great girl; very

‘Dependable?’

‘Solid, perhaps. Not exciting, but reliable.’

‘Do you love her?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then there seems little to talk about. What do you want from me?’

Landen hesitated.

‘I just wanted to know that I was making the right decision.’

‘You said you loved her.’

‘I do.’

‘And she will give you the children you want.’

‘That too.’

‘Then I think you should marry her.’

Landen hesitated slightly. ‘So that’s okay with you?’

‘You don’t need my permission.’

‘That’s not what I meant. I just wanted to ask if you think this could all have had some other outcome?’

I placed a flannel over my face and groaned silently. It wasn’t something I wanted to deal with right now.

‘No. Landen, you must marry her. You promised her and besides—‘ I thought quickly. ‘—I have a job in Ohio.’

‘Ohio?’

‘As a LiteraTec. One of my colleagues at work offered it to me.’

‘Who?’

‘A guy named Cable. Great fellow he is, too.’

Landen gave up, sighed, thanked me and promised to send me an invitation. He left the house quietly— when I came downstairs ten minutes later, my mother was still wearing a forlorn ‘I wish he were my son-in-law’ sort of look.

24. Martin Chuzzlewit is reprieved