'Windowmaker,' I told them, 'yes, with an "N" I don't know why. Well, yes but sixty-eight if you count Samuel Pring. Reason? Who knows. I was the Thursday Next who changed the ending of Jane Eyre. Never read it? Preferred The Professor? Never mind. It'll be in my files. No, I'm with SO-27. Victor Analogy. His name's Friday. Two years old. Yes, he's very cute, isn't he? You do? Congratulations. No, I'd love to see the pictures. His aunt? Really? Can I go now?'
After an hour they said I could leave so I plonked Friday in his buggy and pushed him rapidly up to Landen's place. I arrived a bit puffed and had to stop and regain my breath and my thoughts. The house was back to how I remembered it. The tub of Tickia orologica on the porch had vanished along with the pogo stick. Beyond the more tasteful curtains I could see movement within. I straightened my shirt, attempted to smooth Friday's hair, walked up the garden path and rang the doorbell. My palms felt hot and sweaty and I couldn't control a stupid grin that had spread all over my face. I was carrying Friday for greater dramatic effect and moved him to the other hip as he was a bit of a lump. After what seemed like several hours but was, I suspect, less than ten seconds, the door opened to reveal. . . Landen, every bit as tall and handsome and as large as life as I had wished to see him all these past years. He wasn't as I remembered him he was way better than that. My love, my life, the father of my son made human. I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes and tried to say something but all that came out was a stupid snorty cough. He stared at me and I stared at him, then he stared at me some more, and I stared at him some more, then I thought perhaps he didn't recognise me with the short hair, so I tried to think of something really funny and pithy and clever to say but couldn't, so I shifted Friday to the other hip as he was becoming even more of a lump with every passing second and said, rather stupidly:
'It's Thursday.'
'I know who it is,' he said unkindly. 'You've got a bloody nerve, haven't you?'
And he shut the door in my face.
I was stunned for a moment and had to recover my thoughts before I rang the doorbell again. There was another pause that seemed to last an hour but I suspect was only fractionally longer thirteen seconds, tops and the door opened again.
'Well,' said Landen, 'if it isn't Thursday Next.'
'And Friday,' I replied, 'your son.'
'My son,' replied Landen, deliberately not looking at him, 'right.'
'What's the matter?' I asked, tears starting to well up again in my eyes, 'I thought you'd be pleased to see me!'
He let out a long breath and rubbed his forehead.
'It's difficult'
'What's difficult? How can anything be difficult?'
'Well,' he began, 'you disappear from my life two and a half years ago, I haven't seen hide nor hair of you. Not a postcard, not a letter, not a phone call, nothing. And then you just turn up on my doorstep as though nothing has happened and I should be pleased to see you!'
I sort of breathed a sigh of relief. Sort of. Somehow I always imagined Landen being uneradicated as just a simple sort of meeting each other after a long absence. I hadn't ever thought that Landen wouldn't know he had been eradicated. When he was gone no one had known he had ever existed, and now he was back no one knew he had gone. Not even him.
'Ever heard of an eradication?' I asked.
He shook his head.
I took a deep breath.
'Well, two and a half years ago a chronupt member of SO-12 had you killed at the age of two in an accident. It was a blackmail attempt by a Goliath Corporation member called Brik Schitt-Hawse.'
'I remember him.'
'Right. And he wanted me to get his half-brother out of The Raven where Bowden and I had trapped him.'
'I remember that, too.'
'O-kay. So all of a sudden you didn't exist. Everything we had done together hadn't happened. I tried to get you back by going with my father to your accident in 1947, was thwarted and chose to live inside fiction while little Friday was born and return when I was ready. Which is now. End of story.'
We stared at each other for another long moment that might also have been an hour but was probably only twenty seconds, I moved Friday to the other hip again and then finally he said:
'The trouble is, Thursday, that things are different now. You vanished from my life. Gone. I've had to carry on.'
'What do you mean?' I asked, suddenly feeling very uneasy.
'Well, the thing is,' he went on slowly, 'I didn't think you were coming back. So I married Daisy Mutlar.'
25
Practical Difficulties Regarding Uneradications
DANISH PERSON SOUGHT
A man of Danish appearance was sought yesterday in connection with an armed robbery at the First Goliath Bank in Banbury. The man, described as being 'of Danish appearance', entered the bank at 9.35 and demanded that the teller hand over all the money. Five hundred pounds in sterling and a small amount of Danish Kroner held in the foreign currencies department were stolen. Police described this, small sum of Kroner as of 'particular significance' and pledged to wipe out the menace of Danish criminality as soon as possible. The public have been warned to be on the lookout for anyone of Danish appearance, and to let the police know of any Danes acting suspiciously, or, failing that, any Danes at all.
'You did what?'
'Well, you did vanish without a trace what was I meant to do?' I couldn't believe it. The little scumbag had sought solace in the arms of a miserable cow who wasn't good enough to carry his bag, let alone be his wife. I stared at him, speechless. I think my mouth might even have dropped open at that point, and I was just wondering whether I should burst into tears, kill him with my bare hands, slam the door, scream, swear or all of the above at the same time when I noticed that Landen was doing that thing he does when he's trying not to laugh.
'You one-legged piece of crap,' I said at last, smiling with the relief, 'you did no such thing!'
'Had you going, though, didn't I?' He grinned.
Now I was angry.
'What did you want to go and make that stupid joke for? You know I'm armed and unstable!'
'It's no more stupid than your dopey yarn about me being eradicated!'
'It's not a dopey yarn.'
'It is. If I had been eradicated, then there wouldn't be any little boy . . .'
His voice trailed off and suddenly all our remonstrations dissipated as Friday became the centre of attention. Landen looked at Friday and Friday looked at Landen. I looked at both of them in turn, then, taking his fingers out of his mouth, Friday said:
'Bum.'
'What did he say?'
'I'm not sure. Sounds like a word he picked up from St Zvlkx.'
Landen pressed Friday's nose.
'Beep,' said Landen.
'Bubbies,' said Friday.
'Eradicated, eh?'
'Yes.'
'That must be the most preposterous story I have ever heard in my life.'
'I have no argument with that.'
He paused.
'Which I guess makes it too weird not to be true.'
We moved towards each other at the same time and I bumped into his chin with my head. There was a crack as his teeth snapped together and he yelped in pain I think he had bitten his tongue. It was as Hamlet said. Nothing is ever slick and simple in the real world. He hated it for that reason and I loved it.
'What's so funny?' he demanded.