Strange Tide (53 page)

‘Your most far-sighted and sophisticated work, I've always thought,' said Bryant, filled with awe. ‘A beautiful combination of psychological insight, satire and social analysis, woefully underappreciated.'

Dickens barked out a laugh. ‘It is about money, sir, money and nothing but, the getting and giving of it, the raising up and falling down of it. Which is to say it is about London. I thought it would be more popular. The public prefer the sentiment of Little Nell and the death of Nancy, and who can blame them?' He looked hard into his beer, as if staring into the depths of the river. ‘Money,' he repeated, ‘the spread and taint and stink of it. I thought the city would change in my lifetime. I thought that the poor would rise, that injustice would be levelled like a dust-pile. I was sorely disappointed to find that the tides would continue to lift and fall on the dispossessed and those who feed from them. I tried to be kinder as I aged. Why could not my city do the same?'

Bryant knew that there was no one in England more qualified to rail against the injustices of London. Dickens had spent his life seeking social reform, only to become bitterly disillusioned by its end. He had even sought to make amends for his writing, softening the character of Mr Riah in
Our Mutual Friend
to apologize to critics who had misread Fagin as representative of all Jews, and what had happened? Those same critics had turned and accused him of being too kind. There was no pleasing them. The great man was too much everywhere at once, and needed to be torn down.

‘You're still here, though,' said Bryant, seeking to encourage.

‘Ah yes – well. Every traveller has a home of his own, and learns to appreciate it the more from his wanderings. I used to live down the road, you know, in Doughty Street. I was much younger then, and green.'

‘It's a museum now,' said Bryant. ‘You were born over two hundred years ago.'

Dickens released another alarming yelp of laughter and suddenly seemed very young indeed. ‘Then I am thankful for my longevity. And this little pub is still here! I mentioned it in
Barnaby Rudge
, you know.' He cleared his throat. ‘“The Boot was a lone house of public entertainment, situated in the fields at the back of the Foundling Hospital; a very solitary spot and quite deserted after dark.” Something like that, my memory is not what it was. I only put it in because I passed it on most days.' He pointed at Bryant. ‘But you, sir, if you are the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, tell me – does London find a way to shed its venomous skin and start afresh with a kindlier heart?'

Bryant later had time to think long and hard about the answer he gave that night.

‘I would like to say that its people have more compassion now, because they know how others have to live. I fear that for every stride forward there is always someone who would have us take another step back.'

‘But the people of London know what is wrought in their name?' asked his companion. ‘We did not, you see. It was easier to turn away from our fellow men.'

‘They know,' said Bryant, ‘because London is no longer a city. It is a world. We share the stories of our lives with each other.'

‘Then it must be harder for us to hide our failings from one another, and that is surely a good thing,' said Dickens, draining his pot and rising. ‘Forgive me, but I still have many pages to learn tonight. I must be on my way. We can never afford to stop learning, any of us.' He turned and shook Bryant's hand. ‘An honour, sir, and my gratitude to you for indulging an old man's foolishness.'

‘The pleasure was entirely mine,' said Bryant. He knew that the author would succumb to a stroke after a day spent hard at work on his unfinished novel, the world's first whodunit,
The Mystery of Edwin Drood
.

No
, he thought, his heart soaring at the thought,
we must never stop learning
.
I've always felt that, but now I've heard it from the master.

Bryant rose to his feet and looked around but Cromer Street was deserted once more, the tops of the great dark oak trees rustling in the rising night breeze, a copy of the
Metro
fluttering along the pavement.

The trouble with you, Charlie boy
, he thought as he twirled his walking stick and set off for the warmth of home,
was that you had so much righteous anger boiling away inside you and no one to truly share it with. You were only ever the great Charles Dickens. Us, we're Bryant & May.

In the interests of playing fair, I had woven the solution to Mr Bryant's malady into the last three books. The novels are complete in themselves and are designed to be read out of sequence without any discernible loss.

The idea for this particular novel came from talking to neighbours whom I simply regarded as Londoners without ever considering their backgrounds, and discovering that they came from countries like Iran and Bulgaria. ‘To Londonize' should be a verb, because it's what happens to many people who arrive here – London is a city in which newcomers are quickly adopted and can quickly adapt, to the point where their speech patterns perfectly match those of born Londoners. So this book is for them and their new lives.

As always, I must thank Simon Taylor at Transworld for his perspicacious notes, Kate Samano, and Richenda Todd for her excellent edit. Thanks also to PR Sophie Christopher, agents James Wills and Mandy Little, and to the bloggers, librarians and booksellers whose passion keeps us working through the night.

Bryant & May will return in
Wild Chamber
.

For advice, comment and constructive argument about writing, London, movies, books and just about everything else, talk with me at
www.christopherfowler.co.uk
or on Twitter
@peculiar
.

Christopher Fowler is the award-winning author of more than forty novels – including thirteen featuring the detectives Bryant and May and the Peculiar Crimes Unit – and short-story collections. The recipient of the coveted CWA ‘Dagger in the Library' Award for 2015, his most recent books are the Ballard-esque thriller
The Sand Men
and
Bryant & May – London's Glory
. His other works include screenplays, video games, graphic novels, audio plays and two critically acclaimed autobiographies,
Paperboy
and
Film Freak
. His weekly column ‘Invisible Ink' runs in the
Independent on Sunday
. He lives in King's Cross, London, and Barcelona.

Visit
www.christopherfowler.co.uk

FULL DARK HOUSE

THE WATER ROOM

SEVENTY-SEVEN CLOCKS

TEN-SECOND STAIRCASE

WHITE CORRIDOR

THE VICTORIA VANISHES

BRYANT & MAY ON THE LOOSE

BRYANT & MAY OFF THE RAILS

BRYANT & MAY AND THE MEMORY OF BLOOD

BRYANT & MAY AND THE INVISIBLE CODE

BRYANT & MAY: THE BLEEDING HEART

BRYANT & MAY: THE BURNING MAN

PAPERBOY: A MEMOIR

FILM FREAK

For more information on Christopher Fowler and his books, see his website at
www.christopherfowler.co.uk

TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS
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Transworld is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at
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First published in Great Britain in 2016 by Doubleday
an imprint of Transworld Publishers
Copyright © Christopher Fowler 2016
Jacket illustration by Max Schindler

Christopher Fowler has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologize for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781473526181
ISBN 9780857523426

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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