The Liar's Dictionary

As the photographer dismantled his camera and the lexicographers congratulated one another for standing quite so still for so long in such a good order, Winceworth made his excuses and slipped back inside. Nobody noticed his departure. He took the stairs two at a time, surprising Tits-cats left and right so that flights of them had to dash out of his way. He hastened up the steps and looped around the corners of landings. Panting slightly, he made a mental calculation of the layout of the building, trying to match its structure onto the snatched glimpse of Sophia’s face at the upper-storey window. Would it mean turning left or right? When he reached the second floor, he hovered for a moment and leaned against the banisters, catching his breath.

‘Helloa?’

Sophia stood in the middle of a corridor, a brightness of orange skirts and a white shirtwaist. Winceworth approached, checking his step so he did not seem too eager. Bookshelves ran the length of the passage on both sides thick and stodgy with monographs by linguists and dons; these passages seemed far darker than the Scrivenery below. She was standing with one gloved hand resting upon one of the books’ spines. She smiled at him as he stepped forward. A small toque hat was pushed back amongst her hair. Its design featured snapdragon embroidery and a feather on a pin.

Out of sheer habit the lisp wormed its way between his lips. ‘Miss Slivkovna,’ Winceworth said. He took her hand and gave a little bow in what must have seemed like a frenzied jolt. ‘Swansby’

s New Encyclopaedic Dictionary is not worthy.’

Sophia looked glowing, radiant, whatever the most beautiful synonym for flushed might be.

‘You are here to see Frasham,’ Winceworth continued, apparently not able to bear a silence between them. The statement cooled in the air as clutter.

‘No, no.’ Her tone was light, vague, a touch vacant despite the warmth in her smile. As Winceworth drew closer there was a faint sting of alcohol in the inches between them. This was unexpected – for a wild second he wondered whether he might be smelling it upon himself.

She turned shining eyes upon him and blinked a little as if waking up. ‘A delight to see you again! How is the new pen?’ She flicked invisible dust from his shoulder, admiring him. He was pleased at the change of her manner and at her attentiveness. ‘My sincere apologies to disturb you from your podium down there,’ she went on. ‘Didn’t you look smart? You are quite the picture when you are not waylaying pelicans.’

‘I take that as a compliment from one who stabs them in the neck.’

‘For surgical purposes.’

‘Just so.’ He cocked a thumb downstairs. ‘And I was glad to get away. Have you been here all morning?’ The idea seemed absurd, like not knowing God or the Devil was keenly watching you oblivious at work.

‘I arrived some ten minutes ago – everyone seemed occupied so I thought I’d sate my curiosity about the place.’ She gestured to the corridor. ‘Terence told me about the cats, but I had not imagined quite so many herds of them.’

‘Clowder. A clowder of cats.’

‘But you do herd them, do you not?’

‘That is not yet my job and I am not the expert. I am sorry if no one was there to meet you at the door—’ But Sophia was not listening, instead making her way down the bookshelves and inattentively touching the books. She trailed her finger along the spines as she went. She did not notice, but as she passed she caught one of the dustjackets at a slight angle and the paper tore.

Winceworth caught up and fell into step with her. He did not know these hallways on the second storey of Swansby House. He presumed they were used by Prof. Swansby for the business side of the dictionary – reference books and source material swapped for ledgers and accounting, the professor’s desks used for drafting appeals for the public to submit words and definitions for the greater good.

Sophia said, ‘I do hope no one will mind that I took myself on a small tour while you were all down there.’

‘May I ask what you made of the place?’

‘That central hall is really very extraordinary. I was quite taken aback! Quite the factory.’