He tingled his bell again, coughed and consulted a clipboard.
'Item one is bad news, I'm afraid.'
There was a respectful hush. He paused for a moment and picked his words carefully.
'I think we will all have to come to the conclusion that David and Catnona aren't coming back. It's been eighteen sessions now and we have to assume that they've been … boojummed.'
There was a reflective pause.
'We remember David and Catnona Balfour as friends, colleagues, worthy members of our calling, protagonists in Kidnapped and Catnona, and for all the booksploring they did – especially finding a way into Barchester, for which we will always be grateful. I ask for a minute's silence. To the Balfours!'
'The Balfours!' we all repeated. Then, heads bowed, we stood in silence. After a minute ticked by, the Bellman spoke again.
'Now, I don't want to sound disrespectful but what we learn from this is that you must always sign the outings book so we know where you are – particularly if you are exploring new routes. Don't forget the ISBN numbers either – they weren't introduced just for cataloguing, now, were they? Mr Bradshaw's maps might have a traditionalist's charm about them—'
'Who's Bradshaw?' I asked.
'Commander Bradshaw,' explained Havisham, 'retired now but a wonderful character – did most of the booksploring in the early days.'
'—but they are old and full of errors,' continued the Bellman. 'New technology is here to be used, guys. Anyone who wants to attend a training course on how ISBN numbers relate to trans-book travel, see the cat for details.'
The Bellman looked around the room as if to reinforce the order, then unfolded a sheet of paper and adjusted his glasses.
'Right. Item two. New recruit Thursday Next. Where are you?'
The assembled Prose Resource Operatives looked around the room before I waved a hand to get their attention.
'There you are. Thursday is apprenticed to Miss Havisham; I'm sure you'll all join me in we
lcoming her to our little band.'
'Didn't like the way Jane Eyre turned out?' said a voice from the back. There was a hush and everyone watched as a middle-aged man stood up and walked up to the Bellman's dais
'Who's that?' I whispered.
'Harris Tweed,' replied Havisham. 'Dangerous and arrogant but quite brilliant – for a man.'
'Who approved her application?'
'She didn't apply, Harris – her appointment was a Quad Erat Demonstrandum. Her work within Jane Eyre ridding the book of the loathsome Hades is a good enough testimonial for me.'
'But she altered the book!' cried Tweed angrily. 'Who's to say she wouldn't do the same again?'
'I did what I did for the best,' I said in a loud voice, something that startled Harris slightly – I had a feeling that no one really stood up to him.
'If it wasn't for Thursday we wouldn't have a book,' said the Bellman. 'A full book with a different ending is better than half a book without.'
'That's not what the rules say, Bellman.'
Miss Havisham spoke up.
'Truly competent literary detectives are as rare as truthful men, Mr Tweed – you can see her potential as clearly as I can. Frightened of someone stealing your thunder, perhaps?'
'It's not that at all,' protested Tweed, 'but what if she were here for another reason altogether?'
'I shall vouch for her!' said Miss Havisham in a thunderous tone. 'I call for a show of hands. If there is a majority amongst you who think my judgment poor, then put your hands up now and I will banish her back to where she belongs!'
She said it with such a show of fierce temper that I thought no one would raise their hands; in the event, only one did – Tweed himself, who, after reading the situation, judged that good grace was the best way in which to retire. He gave a wan half-smile, bowed and said: