Something Rotten (Thursday Next 4)

Joffy had been rummaging under the pillow.

'His Book of Revealtments. He usually hides it here.'

'So! You've searched his room before. Suspicious?'

Joffy looked sheepish.

'I'm afraid so. His behaviour is less like that of a saint and more like that of, well, a cheap vulgarian - when I translate I have to make certain . . . adjustments.'

I pulled out his desk drawer and turned it over. Stuck to the bottom was an envelope.

'Bingo!'

It contained a single one-way Gravitube ticket to Bali. Joffy raised his eyebrows and we exchanged nervous glances. Zvlkx was definitely up to something.

Joffy accompanied me into Swindon and we drove up and down the streets trying to find the wayward saint. We visited the site of his old cathedral at Tesco's but couldn't find him, so went on a circuit that took in the law courts, the SpecOps building and the theatre before driving past the university and down Commercial Road. Joffy spotted him outside Pete & Dave's, lumbering up the street.

'There!'

'I see him.'

We abandoned the car and trotted to keep up with the scruffy figure dressed in only a blanket. It was just bad luck that he glanced furtively behind and spotted us. He darted across the street. I don't know whether his lank and uncut hair had got in his eyes, or he had forgotten about traffic during his stay in the Dark Ages, but he didn't look where he was going and ran straight in front of a bus. His head cracked the windscreen and his bony body was thrown sideways on to the pavement with a thump. Joffy and I were first on the scene. A younger man might have survived relatively unscathed, but Zvlkx, his body weakened through poor diet and disease, didn't stand much of a chance. He was coughing and crawling with all the strength he could muster towards the entrance of the nearest shop.

'Easy, Your Grace,' murmured Joffy, laying a hand on his shoulder and stopping him moving. 'You're going to be all right.'

'Bollocks,' said Zvlkx in a state of exasperation, 'bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. :Survived the plague to get hit by a sodding number twenty-three bus. Bollocks.'

'What did he say?'

'He's annoyed.'

'Who are you?' I said. 'Are you ChronoGuard?'

His eyes flicked across to mine and he groaned. Not only dying, but dying and rumbled.

He made another attempt to reach the doorway and collapsed.

'Someone call for an ambulance!' yelled out Joffy

'It's too late for that,' Zvlkx muttered. 'Too late for me, too late for all of us. This wasn't how it toas meant to turn out; time is out of joint - anb it wan't be for me to set it right. Joffy, take this and use it wisely as I would not have done. Bury me in the grounds of my cathedral - and don't tell them who I was. I lived a sinner but I'd like to die a saint, Oh, and if a fat slapper named Shirley tells you I promised her a thousand q

uid, she's a bloody liar.'

He coughed again, shivered for a moment and stopped moving. I placed my hand on his grimy neck but could feel no pulse.

'What did he say?'

'Something about an overweight lady named Shirley, time being out of joint - and using his Revealments as I see fit.'

'What did he mean by that? That his Revealment is not going to come true?'

'I don't know — but he handed me this.'

It was Zvlkx's Book of Revealments. Joffy flicked through the yellowed pages, which outlined in Old English every supposed prophecy he had made, next to an anthmetic sum of some sort. Joffy closed Zvlkx's eyes and placed his jacket over the dead saint's head. A crowd had gathered, including a policeman, who took charge. Joffy hid the book and we stood to one side as the blare of an ambulance started up in the distance. The owner of the shop had come out and told us that tramps dying on his doorstep was bad for business but changed his mind when he found out who it was.

'My goodness!' he said in a respectful tone. 'Imagine a real live saint honouring us with his death on our doorstep!'

I nudged Joffy and pointed at the shopfront. It was a betting shop.