Lost in a Good Book (Thursday Next 2)

I very gently raised my head. He was reading some notes and spoke without looking at me.

'I'm running late – someone's misappropriated an entire cheese seizure. Fifteen minutes' time, interview room three – be there.'

He strode off without waiting for a reply and I stared at the floor again. The baby was making itself known. Somehow Flanker and SpecOps seemed insignificant given that this time next year I could be a mother. Landen had enough money for us both and it wasn't as though I needed to actually resign – I could go on the SpecOps reservist list and do the odd job when necessary. I was just starting to ponder on whether I was really cut out for motherhood when I felt a hand on my shoulder and someone pushed a glass of water into my line of vision. I gratefully took the glass and drank half of it before looking up at my rescuer. It was a Neanderthal dressed in a neat double-breasted suit with an SO-13 badge clipped to his top pocket.

'Hello, Mr Stiggins,' I said, recognising him.

'Hello, Ms Next – the nausea will pass.'

There was a shudder and the world snapped back a couple of seconds so harshly it made me jump. Stiggins spoke again but this time made less sense:

'Helto, our m Ms Next – the nauplea will knoass.'

'What the hell—' I muttered as the lobby snapped again and the mauve-painted walls switched to green. I looked at Stiggins, who said:

'Hatto, is our am Mss Next – bue nauplea will kno you.'

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The people in the lobby moved abruptly and were suddenly wearing hats. Stiggins jumped back again and said:

'That is our ame Miss Next – bue hoivplea kno you?'

My feet felt strange as the world rippled again and I looked down and saw that I was wearing trainers instead of boots. It was clear now that time was flexing slightly and I expected my father to appear, but he didn't. Stiggins flicked back to the beginning of his sentence yet again and said, this time in a clearer voice:

'That is our name, Miss Next, but how know you?'

'Did you feel anything odd just then?'

'No. Drink the water. You are very pale.'

I had another sip, leaned back and took a deep breath.

'This wall used to be mauve,' I mused as Stiggins looked at me.

'How you know our name, Miss Next?'

'You turned up at my wedding party,' I told him. 'You said you had a job for me.'

He stared at me for almost half a minute through his deep-set eyes. His large nose sniffed the air occasionally. Neanderthals thought a great deal about what they said before they said it – if they said anything at all.

'You speak the truth,' he said at last. It was almost impossible to lie to a Neanderthal and I wasn't going to try. 'We are to represent you on this case, Miss Next.'

I sighed. Flanker was taking no chances. I had nothing against Neanderthals but they wouldn't have been my first choice of defence, particularly against the charge of an attack on one of their own.

'If you have a problem you should tell us,' said Stiggins, eyeing me carefully.

'I have no problem with you representing me.'

'Your face does not match your words. You think we have been placed here to hurt your case. It is our belief too. But as to whether it will hurt your case, we shall see. Are you well enough to walk?'

I said I was and we went and sat down in the interview room. Stiggins opened his case and drew out a buff file. The contents were typed in large underlined capitals. He brought out a wooden ruler and placed it across the first page to help him read.

'Why you hit Kaylieu, the Skyrail operator?'

'I thought he had a gun.'

'Why would you think that?'