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'Thank you, Your Honour,' I managed to say before Snell grasped me by the arm, whispered in my ear: 'Let's get the hell out of here!' and steered me ahead of him past the throng of dark suits to the door.
'Bravo!' yelled a man from the gallery. 'Bravo! … And bravo again!'
We walked out to find Miss Havisham deep in conversation with Esther about the perfidious nature of men in general and Esther's husband in particular. They were not the only ones in the room. A bronzed Greek was sitting sullenly next to a Cyclops with a bloodied bandage round his head. The lawyers who were accompanying them were discussing the case quietly in the corner.
'How did it go?' asked Havisham.
'Postponement,' said Snell, mopping his brow and shaking me by the hand. 'Well done, Thursday. Caught me unawares with your "house-painter" defence. Very good indeed!'
'But only a postponement?'
'Oh, yes. I've never known a single acquittal from this court. But next time we'll be up before a proper judge – one of my choosing!'
'And what will become of Hopkins?'
'He,' laughed Snell, 'will have to get a very good lawyer!'
'Good!' said Havisham, getting to her feet. 'It's time we were at the sales. Come along!'
As we made for the door, the magistrate called into the kitchen parlour:
'Odysseus? Charge of grievous bodily harm against Polyphemus the Cyclops?'
'He devoured my comrades!' growled Odysseus angrily.
'That's tomorrow's case. We will not hear about that today. You're next up – and you're late.'
And the examining magistrate shut the door again.
19
Bargain books
* * *
'Jurisfiction was the fastest learning curve I had ever experienced. I think they were all expecting me to arrive a lot earlier than I did. Miss Havisham tested my book-jumping prowess soon after I arrived and I was marked up a dismal 38 out of 100. Mrs Nakajima was 93 and Havisham a 99. I would always need a book to read from to make a jump, no matter how well I had memorised the text. It had its disadvantages but it wasn't all bad news. At least I could read a book aloud without vanishing off inside it …'
THURSDAY NEXT – The Jurisfiction Chronicles
Outside the room Snell tipped his hat and vanished to represent a client currently languishing in debtors' prison. The day was overcast yet mild. I leaned on the balcony and looked down into the yard below at the children playing.
'So!' said Havisham. 'On with your training now that hurdle is over. The Swindon Booktastic closing-down sale begins at midday and I'm in mind for a bit of bargain hunting. Take me there.'
'How?'
'Use your head, girl!' replied Havisham sternly as she grabbed her walking stick and thrashed it through the air a few times. 'Come, come! If you can't jump me straight there, then take me to your apartment and we'll drive – but hurry. The Red Queen is ahead of us and there is a boxed set of novels that she is particularly keen to get her hands on – we must get there first!'
'I'm sorry,' I stammered, 'I can't—'
'No such word as can't!' exploded Miss Havisham. 'Use the book, girl, use the book!'
Suddenly, I understood. I took the leather-bound Jurisfiction book from my pocket and opened it. The first page, the one I had read already, was about the library. On the second page there was a passage from Austen's Sense and Sensibility and on the third a detailed description of my apartment back at Swindon – it was good, too, right down to the water stains on the kitchen ceiling and the magazines stuffed under the sofa. The rest of the pages were covered with closely typed rules and regulations, hints and tips, advice and places to avoid. There were illustrations, too, and maps quite unlike any I had seen before. There were, in fact, far more pages in the book than could possibly be fitted within the covers, but that wasn't the oddest thing. The last ten or so pages featured several hollowed-out recesses which contained devices that were far too wide to have fitted in the book. One of the pages contained a device similar to a flare gun which had 'Mk IV TextMarker' written on its side. Another page had a glass panel covering a handle like a fire alarm. A note painted on the glass read: 'IN UNPRECEDENTED EMERGENCY,* BREAK GLASS'. The asterisk, I noted somewhat chillingly, related to the footnote: '*Please note: personal destruction does NOT count as an unprecedented emergency.' The last few pages were blank – for notes of my own, I assumed.
'Well?' said Havisham impatiently. 'Are we going?'
I flicked to the page that held the short description of my apartment in Swindon. I started to read and felt Havisham's bony hand hang on to my elbow as the Prague rooftops and ageing tenement buildings faded out and my own apartment hove into view.
'Ah!' said Havisham, looking around at the small kitchen with a contemptuous air. 'And this is what you call home?'
