The Eyre Affair (Thursday Next 1)

“Dinner one night?”

I turned to face him.

“Sure.”

“Tuesday?”

“Why not?”

“Good,” said Landen, rubbing his hands. “We could get the old unit back together—”

This

wasn’t what I had in mind.

“Hang on. Tuesday’s not very good after all.”

“Why not? It was fine three seconds ago. Has your dad been around again?”

“No, I just have a lot of things that I have to do and Pickwick needs kenneling and I have to pick him up at the station as airships make him nervous. You remember the time we took him up to Mull and he vomited all over the steward?”

I checked myself. I was starting to blabber like an idiot.

“And don’t tell me,” added Landen, “you have to wash your hair?”

“Very funny.”

“What work are you doing in Swindon anyway?” asked Landen.

“I wash up at SmileyBurger.”

“Sure you do. SpecOps?”

I nodded my head.

“I joined Swindon’s Litera Tec unit.”

“Permanently?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve come back to Swindon for good?”

“I don’t know.”

I placed my hand on his. I wanted to hug him and burst into tears and tell him I loved him and would always love him like some huge emotional dumb girlie, but time wasn’t quite right, as my father would say. I decided to get on the question offensive instead so I asked:

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Never thought about it?”

“I thought about it a lot.”

We both lapsed into silence. There was so much to say that neither of us could think of any way to start. Landen opened a second front:

“Want to see Richard III?”

“Is it still running?”

“Of course.”