I have just found this on my bed. And I feel kind of terrible.

Dear, poor Miss Havisham 27. Perhaps I've been a little hard on her, a little churlish. Scratch the crusty battleaxe veneer and look what is left; a fragile, hurt and betrayed bride who's not even the bride she thought she was. I have, of course, 'forgiven her' and just hope that she will come back. I need her help. Between us we will draw up an action plan to effect the demise of this dastardly Ffforde.

Until then, keep your eyes peeled for directions.