Something Rotten (Thursday Next 4)

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.'

Article in The Toad on Sunday 3 July, 1988

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.'