Something Rotten (Thursday Next 4)

'Smudger?'

Smudger played attack and had made midair roquets something of a trademark. His celebrated double hoop in the Swindon-Gloucester play-off of 1978 was still talked about, even if it hadn't won us the match.

'Nope.'

'Anyone?'

'I'll captain, Miss Next.'

It was Aubrey Jambe. He had been captain once before until a media-led campaign had him ousted following allegations about him and a chimp.

'Good.'

'But we'll need a new manager,' said Aubrey slowly, 'and since you seem to be so passionate about it, I think you'd better take it on.'

Before I knew what I was saying I had agreed, which went down pretty well with the players. Morale of a sort had returned. I took Aubrey by the arm and we walked into the middle of the green for our first strategy meeting.

'Okay,' I said, 'tell me truthfully, Jambe, what are our chances?'

'Borderline impossible,' answered Aubrey candidly. 'We had to sell our best player to Glasgow to be able to meet the changes that the World Croquet League insisted we make to the green. Then our top defender, Lauren de Rematte, won a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Africa on one of those junk mail prize draw things. With Kapok gone we're down to ten players, no reserve, and we've lost the best striker. Biffo, Smudger, Snake, George and Johnno are all good players but the rest are second-raters.'

'So what do we need to win?'

'If every player on the Reading team were to die overnight and be replaced by unfit nine-year-olds, then we might be in with a chance.'

'Too difficult and probably illegal. What else?'

Aubrey stared at me glumly.

'Five quality players and we might have a chance.'

It was a tall order. If they could get to Kapok, they could offer 'inducements' to any other player who might want to join us.

'Okay,' I said, 'leave it with me.'

'You have a plan?'

'Of course,' I lied, feeling the managerial mantle falling about my shoulders, 'your new players are as good as signed. Besides,' I added, with a certain amount of faux conviction, 'we've got a Revealment to protect.'

23

Granny Next

READING WHACKERS CONFIDENT OF WINNING SUPERHOOP

Following the surprise resignation of both Roger Kapok and Gray Ferguson from the Swindon Mallets croquet team this afternoon, the Whackers seem almost certain to win next Saturday's Superhoop, despite the prophecy by St Zvlkx. Betting shops were being cautious despite the news and lowered the Mallets' odds to 700—1. Miss Thursday Next, the new manager of the Mallets, derided any talk of failure and told waiting reporters that Swindon would triumph. When pressed on how dial might be so, she declared the interview over.

Article in the Swindon Evening Blurb, 18 July 1988

'You're the manager of the Mallets?' asked Bowden with incredulity. 'What happened to Gray Ferguson?'

'Bought out, bribed, frightened – who knows?' 'You like being busy, don't you? Does this mean you won't be able to help me get banned books out of England?'

'Have no fear of that,' I reassured him, 'I'll find a way.' I wished I could share in my own confidence. I told Bowden I'd see him tomorrow and walked out, only to be waylaid by the over-zealous Major Drabb, who told me with great efficiency that he and his squad had searched the Albert Schweitzer Memorial Library from top to bottom but had not unearthed a single Danish book. I congratulated him on his diligence and told him to check in with me again tomorrow. He saluted smartly, presented me with a thirty-two-page written report and was gone.

Gran was in the garden of the Goliath Twilight Homes when I stopped by on the way home. She was dressed in a blue gingham frock and was attending to some flowers with a watering can.

'I just heard the news on the wireless. Congratulations!'