And that was another thing.
She ought to have been involved in the dress, at least. She was going to - would have been the one wearing it, after all. There should have been weeks of choosing the material, and fittings, and changing her mind, and changing the material, and changing the pattern, and more fittings . . .
. . . although of course she was her own woman and didn't need that kind of thing at all. . .
o;Nope,” she said. “Still all at sea this end.”
“Well, I'm not saying anymore.”
“Everyone's gone to the Entertainment,” said Nanny Ogg.
No reply.
“And later they'll be back.” A further absence of dialogue.
“Then there'll be carousing and jugglers and fellas that put weasels down their trousers,” said Nanny. Silence.
“And then it'll be tomorrow, and then what're you going to do?”
Silence.
“You can always go back to your cottage. No one's moved in. Or you can stop along of me, if you like. But you'll have to decide, d'you see, because you can't stay locked in there.”
Nanny leaned against the wall.
“I remember years ago my granny telling me about Queen Amonia, well, I say queen, but she never was queen except for about three hours because of what I'm about to unfold, on account of them playing hide-and-seek at the wedding party and her hiding in a big heavy old chest in some attic and the lid slamming shut and no one finding her for seven months, by which time you could definitely say the wedding cake was getting a bit stale.”
Silence.
“Well, if you ain't telling me, I can't hang around all night,” said Nanny. “It'll all be better in the morning, you'll see.”
Silence.
“Why don't you have an early night?” said Nanny. “Our Shawn'll do you a hot drink if you ring down. It's a bit nippy out here, to tell you the truth. It's amazing how these old stone places hang on to the chill.”
Silence.
“So I'll be off then, shall I?” said Nanny, to the unyielding silence. “Not doing much good here, I can see that. Sure you don't want to talk?”
Silence.
“Stand before your god, bow before your king, and kneel before your man. Recipe for a happy life, that is,” said Nanny, to the world in general. “Well, I'm going away now. Tell you what, I'll come back early tomorrow, help you get ready, that sort of thing. How about it?”
Silence.
“So that's all sorted out then,” said Nanny. “Cheerio.” She waited a full minute. By rights, by the human mechanics of situations like this, the bolts should have been drawn back and Magrat should have peeped out into the corridor, or possibly even called out to her. She did not.
Nanny shook her head. She could think of at least three ways of getting into the room, and only one of them involved going through the door. But there was a time and a place for witchcraft, and this wasn't it. Nanny Ogg had led a long and generally happy life by knowing when not to be a witch, and this was one of those times.
She went down the stairs and out of the castle. Shawn was standing guard at the main gate, surreptitiously practicing karate chops on the evening air. He stopped and looked embarrassed as Nanny Ogg approached.
“Wish I was going to the Entertainment, Mum.”
“I daresay the king will be very generous to you come payday on account of your duty,” said Nanny Ogg. “Remind me to remind him.”
“Aren't you going?”
“Well, I'm . . . I'm just going for a stroll into town,” said Nanny. “I expect Esme went with 'em, did she?”