'What's going on?' I asked suspiciously.
'It wasn't my fault!' she burst out, reaching for her pocket handkerchief. 'I thought the Internal Plot Adjustment request was to sort out the seasonal anomalies! All that death in the orchard, then winter, then flowers—'
'What happened?' I asked.
Mrs Tiggy-Winkle looked miserable.
'Well, you know there has been much grumbling within Hamlet ever since Rosencrantz and Guildenstern got their own play?'
'Yes?'
'Just after you left, Ophelia attempted a coup d'etat in Hamlet's absence. She imported a B-6 Hamlet from Lamb's Shakespeare and convinced him to re-enact some of the key scenes with a pro-Ophelia bias.'
'And?'
'Well,' said Mrs Tiggy-Winkle, 'they retitled it The Tragedy of the Fair Ophelia, driven mad by the callous Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.'
'She's always up to something, isn't she? I'll give her "Hey nonny, nonny". Tell her to get back into line or we'll slap a Class II fiction infraction on her so fast it'll make her head spin.'
'We tried that but Laertes returned from Paris and lent his voice to the revolution. Together they made some more changes and called it: The Tragedy of the Noble Laertes, who avenges his sister the fair Ophelia, driven mad by the callous and murderous Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.'
I ran my fingers through what remained of my hair.
'So . . . arrest them both?'
'Too late. Their father Polonius was in a "have a go" mood and joined in. He also made changes and together they renamed it The tragedy of the very witty and not remotely boring Polonius, father of the noble Laertes, who avenges his fair sister Ophelia, driven mad by the callous, murderous and outrageously disrespectful Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.'
'What was it like?'
'With Polonius? Very . . . wordy. We could replace them all,' carried on Mrs Tiggy-Winkle, 'but changing so many major players in one swoop might cause irreparable damage. The last thing we need right now is Hamlet coming back and sticking his oar in -you know how mad he gets when anybody even suggests a word change.'
'Right,' I said, 'here's the plan. This is all happening in the 1623 folio edition, yes?'
Mrs Tiggy-Winkle nodded her head.
'Okay. Move Hamlet — or whatever it is called at present — to a disused Storycode engine and fire up The Penguin Modern Hamlet so that is the one everyone in the Outland will read. It will give us some breathing space without anyone seeing the Polonised version. It won't be at its best, but it'll have to do. Horatio must still be on Hamlet's side, surely?'
'Most definitely.'
'Then deputise him to Jurisfiction and try to get him to convince the Polonius family to attend an arbitration session. Keep me posted. I'll try and keep Hamlet amused out here.'
She made a note.
'Is that all?' I asked.
'Unless you need some washing done.'
'I have a mother who will fight you for that. Now please, please, Mrs Tiggy-Winkle, you must leave me to sort out Kaine and get my husband back!'
'You're right,' she said after a short pause. 'We're going to handle this all on our own.'
'Good.'
'Right.'
'Well . . . goodnight, then.'
'Yes,' said the hedgehog, 'goodnight.'
She stood there on the kitchen linoleum, tapping her paws together and staring at the ceiling.
'Tiggy, what is it?'
'It's Mr Tiggy-Winkle!' she burst out at last. 'He came home late last night in a state of shock and smelling of car exhaust and I'm so worried!'
It was about three in the morning when I was finally left alone with my thoughts, a sleeping son and a pocket handkerchief drenched with hedgehog tears.
11
The Greatness of St Zvlkx
GOLIATH CORPORATION IMPLEMENT 'DISTRACTION REDUCTION' PROGRAMME
Accusations were growing yesterday that the corporation's drive to increase productivity would result in the loss of civil liberties. This was strongly denied by Goliath, who commented: 'We don't see bricking up the million or so windows in our 10,000 work facilities as anything less than a positive step forward. By removing windows we aim to help the worker who might be suffering from interest in work deficit disorder to higher levels of self-help and greater productivity. We also think that it will save thousands of gallons of Windolene and the estimated six hundred deaths suffered by window cleaners every year.' Accusations that the corporation were 'nothing short of bullies' were met with a three-hundred-page writ for defamation, delivered personally by very big men with tattoos.'
From humble beginnings in 1289 to a fiery end in the autumn of 1536, the towering beauty of the Great Cathedral of Swindon was once the equal of Canterbury or York, but no longer. Built over at least four times since then, the site of the cathedral is now occupied by a temple of another kind: Tesco's. Where monks once moved silently to prayer beneath vaulted cloisters, you can now buy Lola Vavoom workout videos, and where the exquisite stained-glass east window once brought forth tears from the coldest heart, there is now a refrigerated display boasting five different types of smoked sausage.
I took my seat and placed Friday on my lap. He wriggled while I looked around. The car park was full of eager spectators. Some, like myself, were sitting on the especially constructed tiered seating, the rest standing behind barriers on the asphalt. But everyone, sitting or standing, was facing a small fenced-off area sandwiched between the shopping trolley return point and the cashpoint machines. This small area contained a weathered arched doorway, the only visible remnant of Swindon's once great monastic settlement.
'How are you doing?' asked Joffy, who, as well as being a minister for the GSD and several other smaller denominations, was also head of the Idolatry Friends of St Zvlkx.
'Fine. Isn't that Lydia Startright?'
I was pointing at a well-dressed female reporter readying herself for a broadcast.
'She's about to interview me. How do I look?'
'Very . . . ecclesiastical.'
'Good. Excuse me.'
He straightened his dog collar and walked over to join Lydia. She was standing next to her producer, a small and curiously unappealing man who was so unoriginal of thought that he still considered it cool and desirable for people in the media to wear black.
'What time is old Zvlkxy due to appear?' the producer asked Joffy.
'In about five minutes.'
'Good. Lyds, we'd better go live.'
Lydia composed herself, took one more look at her notes, awaited the count-in of the producer, gave a welcoming smile and began.
'Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, this is Lydia Startright for Toad News Network reporting live from Swindon. In under five minutes St Zvlkx, the obscure and sometimes controversial thirteenth-century saint, is due to be resurrected here, live on regional TV.'
She turned to indicate the weathered pieces of stone, previously ignored by thousands of shoppers but now the centre of attention.
'On this spot once stood the towering Great Cathedral of Swindon, founded by St Zvlkx in the thirteenth century. Where the wet-fish counter now stands was where St Zvlkx penned his "Book of Revealments" containing seven sets of prophecies, five of which have already come true. To help us through the quagmire of claims and counter-claims I have with me the Very Irrev. Joffy Next, head of the Church of the Global Standard Deity here in Swindon, speaker at the Idolatry Friends of St Zvlkx and something of an expert in things Zvlkxian. Hello, Joffy, welcome to the show.' 'Thank you, Lydia,' said Joffy, 'we're all big fans of yours at the GSD.'