Oodoo U luv, mummy?! he yelled. Oodoo U luv?!
Carl, through blood and tears, screamed back, Dave, Eye luv Dave!
Mercifully, by the time the third warder stepped forward and undid the heavy wheel-shaped buckle of his belt, Carl Dévúsh had lost consciousness.
He regained it to the sound of a peculiar neighing sound. Looking up from where he lay on the stinking straw, he saw Antonë's bare, bulbous chin trembling in the gloom. The teacher was sobbing. Seeing that Carl was awake, he crawled over to him, his fetters chinking, and, taking the lad's battered head, cradled it against his tank. They stayed like that for a long while, Carl drifting in and out of the hateful present. He was a toddler once more, beneath him was the broad, bristly back of old Gorj rising and falling as they bumbled through the woodlands of beloved Ham.
Midway through the third tariff the heavy bolt rasped and the cell door was yanked open. Looking up, Carl and Antonë saw familiar foxy features nose into the cell — it was Terri. Blymee, he exclaimed, seeing them huddled on the floor, dishevelled and filthy, U R fukkedup orlrì! He had a bottle of jack, and, even though the fumes made Carl retch, Terri forced him to take a swig. Then he did vomit. O Dave! Terri cried, ees onlì gon an lunged up, iss gonna stink in ere! Böm glanced nervously towards the open door. Noticing this, Terri gave a bitter laugh:
— Vat Ió? Veyv ad vair legovah an nah vair sleepin.
— But what if we were to –
— Escayp? Terri laughed again. Ardlee lyklee — ware woodjoo go 2? U R gafferless, U av no Lawd aw Dryva, no estayt aw manna aw Shelta. Evree standard an decco in ve ole cittee as yer böts on í — ware woodjoo scayp 2?
Pulling himself to his feet and brushing the soiled straw from his clothes, Antonë confronted the sinister little dad:
— Who are you? he demanded. Just tell us, who are you?
— Oo am Eye? Terri cackled again. Oo am Eye? Thass gúd, thass veri gúd. Eyl tel U oo Eye am — tel U in pertikular. He fixed his gaze on Carl. C viss? He pulled a thong from his T-shirt. From it dangled a Davework identical to the toyist one that Salli Brudi had found by the giant's house on Ham. It spun in the dim light that came from the cell door. Eym yaw öl mans fare, thass oo Eye am. Terri's eyes shone. Eym ve Geezers bloke 100 %. Eye woz wivvim ere, Eye sayvd im from ve Weel az long az Eye cúd, an wen … an wen … he said, faltering, wen vay tookim Eye kepp ve fayf.
— But why? Böm expostulated. Why, dad? Why did you tell us none of this until now? He stepped forward threateningly, but Carl's croaky voice stopped him:
— U, U say vey tookim, Terri — tookim ware, ware2, guv?
— Wy oam, ovcaws, oam 2 iz manna. To Terri it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Bak 2 Am, thass ware vey tookim.
Carl and Antonë looked at each other first in shock, then in wonderment and finally in shameful despair. The pathetic figure with his matted hair clambering over the rocks of Nimar to get a cuddle from the motos. The red cave of mouth, the stump of tongue struggling to form the most significant of words.
— Ve Beestlimun! Carl gasped. Í woz ve Beestlimun awl ve tym, an we woz rì vare wivvim … an vey, ve dads, vey nú, vey awlways nú!
— Caws vey nú! Terri snorted. Caws vey nú, vey ad ve powa, mì sun, an powa iz nolidj.
Now Böm did advance and grab the potman's arm:
— The Book, Terri, the Book given to Symun Dévúsh by Dave, the Book he called over — the Book he said Dave took back. Do you know of it? Do you think it ever existed, did you see it? Tell us, dad, tell us!
Terri shook himself free and said:
— Eyel tel yer, ee ad a chaynjyngbag, yaw dad, ee awlways kepp í wivvim — sepp 4 iz peerunces, ven Eye kepp í 4 im.
— Did you look in it?
— Nah, nah, Eye nevah did, coz í wurnt abaht ve Buk, í woz abaht im. Ee woz a grayt bloak, yaw dad, ee ad reel bottul. Ee nevah Btrayd no 1, nó eevun wen vey … wen vey ad im on ve Weel… The tough old cockney couldn't go on; he took a slug of jack to mask his intense emotion, for he was crying.
Carl was crying as well. Eyel nevah av ve bottul ee did — Eye no vat. Eym skard, Eym skard uv ve Weel — ítul brayk me. .
Terri shuffled through the straw and laid an arm on the lad's shoulders:
— Doan U wurri abaht vat, mì sun, he said. U aynt gonna B on no bluddë Weel. Eyev gó í awl sawtid — yaw goin oam inall.
Terri had, it transpired, followed the fugitives every step of their way in the capital. He was no potman: he was an embezzler and an angler, he ran a gang of headlight cursers, and he had made a small fortune in barratry. He was one of a select group of dads who, from deep in the waste lands of the East End, defied the authority of the Public Carriage Office. Terri saw no anomaly between his lawlessness and the teaching of the Geezer — for he served neither lawyer nor Driver, only Dave-beyond-the-screen. So when Carl and Antonë bombarded him with questions — How would they escape the Tower and evade the seeseeteevee men? How would they be able to leave London, let alone journey back to Ham? — he was quick to silence them:
— Simma dahn! he said, raising his hands. Eyev payd ve scroos, Eyev payd ve seeseeteevee men, Eyev payd ve gaffer uv a privateer inall. Ees layin off Tilbury 2nyt an ee sayls fer ve Swizz mayne at furst foglamp wivva commishun from ve King imself, 2 ava crakk at vair traydin pedalos. Eel ava cuppuluv xtra passinjas on bawd, a cuppuluv Inspektahs wiv a mös unUshul creetyur –
— Tyga! Carl cried. Cannit B tnú?
It was. Terri had sought out the warden at Bedlam and paid him generously for the freakish beast.
— Yaw dad, he explained to Carl, ee toll me abaht ve motos, an ee sed vey eld ve kë. Ee sed vey woz dävyn creetyurs, appi an surcúre lyke kiddees wúd av bin wivaht ve Braykup an ve Chaynjova. Ee sed wotevah Ls appened, az longaz vair wur motos on Am vair woz stil oap fur ve wurld.
As he struggled out of the filthy cloakyfing and into the Inspector's robes Terri presented him with, Carl began to sob again. He was cursing himself for a fool, thinking of how he had travelled all this way to find a father who had been there all the time. There all the time, on the far side of the sound, looking towards Ham. Perhaps even in his shattered mind Symun Dévúsh had been seeking for the son he'd never even known he'd had, while Carl, even when he'd come face to face with his dad, had failed to recognize him.
Böm's thoughts were upon other things, for even in the midst of flight his speculative mind had got the better of him and he was drifting inside of himself to where he could hear the second Book screaming from the rocks of Nimar. If it's still there … Böm was thinking … if it's still there it might yet have the power to shake the PCO to the very core. It might explain us to ourselves … Ingland — even the world entire … For in these turbulent times is there not a rabid curiosity for such things, and would not even the most dävine Dävists be forced thereby into a novel apperception of history? A second Book could prove beyond any doubt that Ham was the cradle of our faith … Undermine the pretended claims of the dävidic line … Circumscribe the very turning circle of the PCO itself…
There were misty halos around the few letrics along the Ratcliffe Highway. Behind the fences parked cars were blistered with drizzle. Carl and Antonë's flight from the Tower had been effected without a hitch. As they slipped along the corridors and down the staircases, the warders turned their faces to the walls. As they crossed the central ward, heading for the side gate on to Tower Bridge Approach, Terri's chaps fell in with them — the heavy mob, their trainers slapping on the yok flags like hard hands on taut flesh.