Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's note: I wanted to make the interview with Philip Pullman as close as to the real Philip Pullman as possible. But after researching him, I found out (well, I kind of already knew) that he wrote other books before His Dark Materials, the Sally Lockhart series for example, and he was also a teacher before the Sally Lockhart series. So, because of those facts, I'm making some changes in the timeline of Philip Pullman's life, for plot purposes. I will instead have it so that His Dark Materials is his first series, instead of the Sally Lockhart series. It would make a lot more sense, and make it so that Philip Pullman is not a really well known author yet. (Plus, all three books in His Dark Materials didn't come out all at once, like I said in the story. So it's not like I haven't changed the truth before. I just thought I'd tell you about so you guys don't hound me on it.) Oh, and Philip Pullman's house is not his real house, just in case you get the crazy idea that it is.
While Mary had made tea, Will and Lena had gone on Will's computer to look up Philip Pullman. There wasn't much on him; it was really his books that were making a big splash. But they did find out that he used to be a teacher before the books came out, and that he was married and had two grown kids with grandkids. They also found out that he lived there in Oxford. After they figured that out, it was only a matter of looking him up in the city register and they had an address. Soon after, Mary faked a journalist's ID with her old library card. Then they grabbed a tape recorder and a couple notepads to record the 'interview', and set off to Philip Pullman's house in Mary's car.
Now they were there. The house was fairly old. Weathered bricks stood, making up its walls and the chimney that poked out of the roof like a ground hog peering out of its hole. A big, elderly tree stood in front, framing and guarding the house, while bushes squatted next to the outside walls like green bull frogs. The driveway and the walkway to the front door were cracked and beaten from the years of lying outdoors, but still useable. And it was on that walkway that Lena, Mary, Will, and Kirjava strolled on, headed toward the front door of Philip Pullman's house.
Will was nervous, to say the least. He was trying hard to control his rapid breathing, but he could do little about his speedy heartbeat. His hands were clenched tight to steady them while his daemon walked close next to him, not bothering to calm Will down for she was even more uneasy about the whole situation than her human. He had no idea why he was so nervous. He was doing what he planned, what he thought was the right thing to do at the moment, then why was anxious right when it was time to implement his plan? But then it suddenly came to him. It was simple fact that he was about to meet the man that had unintentionally changed his life. And he wasn't the only one that was nervous. He could tell in Mary's stride and set jaw that she was also on edge. In fact Lena seemed to be the only one that didn't seem effected by the situation that they were currently putting themselves in.
Will looked over at his girlfriend. She was standing tall, getting ready to put a smile on her face when Philip Pullman opened the door. She was steeling herself for the 'interview' but didn't seem a bit unease about it. She suddenly reminded Will of Lyra. It was possible that Lena was feeling tense, but it wasn't shown on her face. Just then, Will knew what he should be doing. He should act like Lyra, for they were doing what she would've done, why shouldn't he present himself in the same fashion?
Ignoring the unease coming off Kirjava, Will straightened his stance, took a deep breath, and looked straight ahead as Mary rang the doorbell. He could feel Lena take hold of his hand, as the ringing doorbell echoed throughout the old house. Will squeezed her hand and she did in return, as footsteps made its way to the door. Then the door opened.
But instead of Philip Pullman, the face that appeared was one of an older woman. For a second Will thought that they had gotten the wrong house, but an additional second later, another person came up behind the older woman. He was an older man that could only be Philip Pullman. The woman must be his wife, thought Will, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Hello. I'm here for Mr. Pullman," said Mary cheerfully, totally masking her nervousness from earlier.
"I'm Mr. Pullman," replied the older man, brow wrinkling in confusion.
"Oh, nice to meet you, sir. I'm Mary Smith from The Guardian," stated Mary, flashing her fake ID and then quickly pocketing it.
"Why are you here, Ms. Smith?"
"Didn't you get the call?"
"No…"
"Oh, something must've been messed up in communication with my secretary. She's a temp. My normal secretary is off on her honeymoon. Anyway, I'm here to interview you about your new book series, His Dark Materials. It's making quiet a splash, you know, and my editors have been screaming for an interview with the author ever since it came out."
"An interview, eh? Well, I best be getting used to this kind of stuff. My publisher is telling me that my series is likely to become a bestseller."
"That it is, Mr. Pullman. And, if you don't mind, we'd like to step in and then we can find a quiet place to chat. Oh, by the way," began Mary pointing back towards Will and Lena behind her. "That's Will Jones and Lena Tyler. Will is my intern, and Lena someone else's intern but simply insisted that she'd come along. Now if you don't mind, I liked to get this interview underway so I can get this in my editors' offices by tomorrow."
"Oh, of course," said Philip Pullman while he and his wife stepped aside to let Mary, Will and Lena in.
The inside of the house seemed as old as the outside. The floor was worn and creaked under their weight, while recently painted walls stood aside, carrying the load of an assortment of family pictures. The smell of dust was everywhere even though the house looked fairly clean. Philip Pullman led the way to living room, saying that it was a quiet as any other room in the house, as he sent his wife away to get some refreshments. There was still butterflies flying around in Will's stomach, but other than that he was fine. He was still clutching Lena's hand while Kirjava keep close on his heels, her unease increasing with every step.
While they walked through the elderly house, an idea popped into Will's head. He immediately put his thoughts into action. Taking the time to focus his eyes, using the technique that Mary taught him, Will looked at Philip Pullman's daemon. Immediately, a tawny owl appeared on the author's shoulder. It was fairly small and cute with amber, brown and white feathers. What did that say about his personality? Will wondered. But before he could think anymore on the matter, they stepped into the living room.
Full bookshelves lined two walls, while windows, the fireplace, and a clunky TV sat against the other two. A grubby couch was planted in the center of the room, facing the brick fireplace and TV. Two armchairs chairs stood next to the couch, as if guarding an ancient treasure. But other than the wooden coffee table and standing lamp, the only other thing the in the room was the worn wooden floor.
"You're welcome to sit down on the couch or chairs," offered Philip Pullman, motioning towards the furniture. "Jude, my wife, should be here in a moment with some drinks."
"Thank you, Mr. Pullman for taking on an unplanned interview," said Mary, with her fake smile, as she sat down on one of the chairs. "And I do have to say, you have a very charming house."
"Thank you, Ms. Smith. And it's no problem. I really didn't have much planned for today. It's not until next week that I go on my book signing tour," replied Philip Pullman with a genuine smile. "So I'm basically just waiting for that. I'm a teacher, but I'm currently on leave and-"
"Please, Mr. Pullman. You can tell us all about that during the interview," interrupted Mary.
"Oh, yes of course. Um…I'm going to see if Jude needs any help." And with that, Philip Pullman walked out of the room.
"Well, it worked," commented Lena leading Will over to the couch and sitting down on it.
"Yeah…" responded Will, taking a seat next to his girlfriend.
"I still think this is a bad idea. There are simply so many things that could go wrong…" grumbled Kirjava, climbing up on the couch. She then curled up close to Will, her breathing fast and on attitude on edge.
Will began to pet her softly as his nerves inside twisted into knots.
"But we do things everyday that have a many chances of going wrong, yet we still do them," whispered Will, reassuring not only his daemon, but himself.
He knew he was doing the right thing, but he still couldn't ease his churning stomach and coiling nerves. Kirjava was right, but he refused to believe it. He had to do this. He just simply had to talk to Philip Pullman. He had to be strong.
Lena squeezed Will's hand, and when Will turned towards her, she gave him a comforting smile while her chocolate brown eyes twinkled beautifully. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this.
When he opened his eyes again Philip Pullman and his wife were strolling into the living room, trays in hand.
"I've made some tea. It's Earl Gray," spoke Jude as she set down the tray on the coffee table. The tray was filled with four teacups full of steaming, amber tea.
"Oh, I love Earl Gray," brightly said Lena. And with that she let go of Will's hand and grabbed a teacups.
"And we had some crackers in the cupboard. They might be a little stale, but it'll be fine with some cheese," stated Philip Pullman, setting down the tray full of cheese and crackers next to the tea.
"Thank you, very much," commented Mary, seizing a teacup.
Will watched Mary and Lena sip the hot tea, while the author sat down in the other chair and his wife left for the garden. He had no urge to take a teacup. He wasn't thirsty, and was sure that if he filled his stomach with anything, it was immediately bounce it back up his throat. So, he simply laid his hands on his lap and said, "I'm not hungry, thank you."
He could feel Kirjava eyes on Philip Pullman, watching him like he was going to jump up and kill them all. Will sighed and lightly placed his hand on his daemon's paw. After living years in a world where people couldn't see Kirjava, they had learned to communicate with each other without looking crazy from talking or petting something that's not there.
"So…," began Mary, breaking the brief silence and setting down her teacup. "I guess we shall start our interview."
