Mr. Darcy Forever (5 page)

Jane Austen was the reason that Shelley and Mia had bonded so quickly at drama school. Shelley would never forget walking into rehearsals one day and seeing Mia slumped against the wall, totally absorbed in a book which had turned out to be
Sense and Sensibility
.

‘
Oh, my goodness!’ Shelley had exclaimed. ‘I just love this book.’

‘
You do?’ Mia had said, looking up from her book in surprise.

Shelley had slumped down on to the floor next to her. ‘I have to admit to being just a little bit in love with Willoughby.’

Mia had giggled. ‘Me too. Apart from him breaking Marianne's heart and almost being the cause of her death, that is.’

‘
Well, that goes without saying. But he's no different from most of the men I've dated. They were all handsome heart-breakers too.’

Mia nodded in sympathy. ‘They’re the best and the worst, aren't they?’

And the two of them had been friends ever since.

It was whilst Shelley was remembering this that a taxi drew up to the kerb and a crumpled-looking figure emerged.

‘
Mia!’ Shelley cried, running to the front door and flinging it open. She watched as Mia struggled with her suitcase and a large bin bag.

‘
What on earth is all this?’

‘
Oh, you know me – I never could travel light.’

‘
Is it your costume?’

‘
Yes, don't crumple it.’

‘
I wouldn’t!’ Shelley said. ‘Is it the old standby?’

Mia nodded. ‘I couldn’t afford a new one.’

‘
Well, we can re-trim it and make it a bit special, can’t we?’ she said, daring to peer into the bin bag.

‘
Do you have any money for the taxi?’ Mia interrupted just as the taxi driver honked his horn. ‘I’m absolutely broke.’

Shelley nodded, running into the house and coming back out a moment later to pay the red-faced cabbie.

Then the two of them embraced.

‘
Gosh, I've missed you!’ Shelley said.

‘
I’ve missed you more,’ Mia said. ‘London’s not the same without you.’

‘
Well, of course it isn't but you wouldn't expect the inhabitants of Bath to do without my scintillating wit and vibrant personality, would you?’

‘
I wish you'd come back.’

Shelley linked Mia’s arm and the two of them went inside with the bags. ‘I can’t come back. I've got this place now and I've even got a job - a proper job, this time.’

‘
You mean you’re not busking outside the abbey anymore?’

‘
I haven't done that for years!’ Shelley said. ‘I’m working at the nursery down the road.’

‘
A nursery? As in plants?’

‘
No - as in children.’

‘
Blimey,’ Mia said, ‘you’re not getting broody, are you?’

‘
I might be,’ Shelley said, the traces of a faint flush colouring her cheeks.

‘
What happens to our “No men, no children just fame and fortune” plan?’ But, before Shelley could reply, Mia caught sight of somebody sitting in the front room.

‘
Who on earth is that?’ Mia asked in a hushed tone.

‘
Oh, that's just Pie. He lives here.’

‘
He’s not your-’

Shelley's mouth dropped open before Mia could even finish her offending question. ‘No way! He's here so I can pay my father his blasted rent.’

It was then that a strange scraping sound was heard coming from the hallway at the back of the house.

‘
Oh, Pie! I thought I told you to close the kitchen door!’

An enormous chestnut beast hurled itself along the corridor and Mia was almost knocked on to her back.

‘
Oh, Bingley!’ Shelley shouted, grabbing hold of the dog’s red collar and trying to restore some sort of order. ‘Are you okay, Mia? He didn't mean to scare you. He's friendly really.’

‘
What breed is he?’ Mia asked with a grin. ‘I can’t tell.’

Shelley shook her head. ‘He’s a cross.’

‘
What’s he crossed with?’

‘
I don’t know. Something fat and greedy.’

‘
He’s lovely, though.’

‘
Don’t you believe it,’ Shelley said. ‘Nobody wanted him and I’m beginning to see why.'

‘
I had no idea you had a dog.’

‘
No, and neither does my father. He’d kill me if he knew I had an animal here.

Mia bent down to pat the dog. ‘He is rather beautiful,’ she said. ‘I can see why you fell for him.’

‘
You can take him home if you want.’

‘
I think Mr Crownor would be even less sympathetic to my having a dog than your father.’

‘
You’re not still in the awful bedsit, are you?’

Mia nodded. ‘Just for the time being.’

‘
I know,’ Shelley said, ‘fame and fortune are just round the corner, aren't they?’

Mia smiled but there was a sad look in her eyes and, for the first time, Shelley saw doubt there.

‘
Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s have a cup of tea.’

Mia looked anxious.

‘
A
proper
cup of tea,’ Shelley added, ‘although Dad’s sent his usual testers if you fancy giving them a try.’

‘
And what have we this week?’

‘
Erm, Camomile Dreams, Nettle Surprise and Fennel Twist.’

‘
I think I'll give those a miss if you don't mind.’

‘
That’s probably a good move. I mean, Camomile Dreams isn't too bad but you really don't want to smell the Fennel Twist. I came home last night there was the strangest fug imaginable and I found Pie in the kitchen with a mug of the stuff and I swear the whole kitchen had turned green.’

‘
You’d better let your dad know.’

‘
Yes, I think I shall fine him this time. Say six months’ rent.’

The two of them ventured into the kitchen but, luckily, there was no green fug to greet them.

‘
There’s nothing like Quantock Teas to put you off herbal for life,’ Shelley said as she reached for a canister filled with regular teabags.

‘
Hey, that’s a pretty good slogan if you wanted your father’s business to go bust overnight.’

Shelley laughed.

‘
What happened to your commercial?’ Mia asked.

‘
Daddy withdrew it,’ Shelley said.

‘
Why? I thought it was brilliant! How did it go again?’

Shelley took a deep breath and then recited the commercial for which she’d done the voice-over. ‘Tick tock. Quantock. It’s time for tea.’

Mia roared with laughter at the husky voice Shelley used. ‘Daddy said it was way too sexy and gave the completely wrong impression about the teabags.’

‘
I bet sales would have soared if he’d let it run its course.’

‘
I guess we’ll never know,’ Shelley said, silently bemoaning a lost career as a voice-over artist.

Mia looked out of the kitchen window on to a small patch of emerald lawn.

‘
Who’s that?’ she suddenly asked, seeing a man in the garden next door across the low fence that divided the terrace.

‘
That’s Gabe Sanders,’ Shelley said, her eyes lighting up. ‘You’ll like him. In fact, I must introduce you.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because you’re single.’

‘
Oh, don’t start all that again,’ Mia said.

‘
But you are, aren’t you?’

‘
So are you!’ Mia said. ‘Anyway, he’s an old man.’

‘
He is not an old man! He’s not even forty. Just come and say a quick hello.’

‘
I’m not into older men,’ Mia said.

Shelley’s eyebrows rose. ‘There’s a lot to be said for an older man. Just remember Colonel Brandon wasn’t exactly in the first flush of youth and he’s one of my favourite heroes.’

‘
Yes but Colonel Brandon probably wasn’t a red-head.’

‘
Neither’s Gabe,’ Shelley said. ‘He’s more of a strawberry-blond, wouldn’t you say?’

Mia took another look at the neighbour and noticed that his arm was in a sling. ‘He’s broken his arm.’

Shelley nodded. ‘Skiing accident. You wouldn’t want for expensive holidays if you hooked up with him. Come on – let me introduce you!’

‘
Can’t we just have a cup of tea and a chat? I’m exhausted and really haven’t got the energy to be introduced to anyone even if they could give Colonel Brandon a run for his money.’

Shelley sighed. ‘All right, then,’ she said, taking pity on her friend. ‘I’ll introduce you to him
tomorrow
.’ And she couldn’t help grinning as Mia rolled her eyes at her.

Travelling by public transport was always a terrifying experience when one suffered from OCD. Sarah tried to stack the odds in her favour by booking a first class train ticket but, as she sat down in her reserved seat, she could see several problems already. She'd booked a facing seat because it was simply unnatural to travel backwards and she'd opted for a non-table seat because the thought of sharing a space with three strangers who might get out a big smelly picnic was not to be borne. She'd also booked the quiet carriage which apparently meant that she'd be with like-minded people who weren't addicted to their mobile phones, iPods or loud conversation with their neighbours. However, half an hour into her journey, three mobile phones had gone off. Luckily for Sarah, a large-bosomed woman with a booming voice and zero-tolerance approach had taken the law into her own hands and had reprimanded the hapless callers.

There weren't many people in the carriage with her that morning but there were enough to annoy her. One thing she hadn't considered when she'd booked her ticket was the proximity of her seat to the door which meant that there was a constant noise and draft as people got up to use the toilet. It really was very distracting when one was trying to enjoy the tranquillity of the countryside.

There was also a businessman with a very runny nose who insisted on sniffing every eight or ten seconds. Sarah knew this because she'd been forced to count and, after the thirty-fourth sniff, she had resorted to her ear plugs. Kept in a little pink tin, Sarah’s earplugs were a lifesaver when travelling in public, instantly blocking out any annoying noises. If only she could block out the smells too, she thought, as somebody unwrapped a particularly stinky sandwich.

‘
You really have to learn to be more tolerant,’ Mia would often chide when observing her sister’s little quirks. But it was no good – you couldn’t tell someone with OCD to snap out of it. If only it were that simple. If anything, it was getting worse as she was getting older and being a member of the general public was getting harder. In fact, Sarah found that she was becoming more and more reclusive, spending more time on her own in the solitude of her home. That was why something like the Jane Austen Festival was so important to her because it meant that she had to leave the safety of her sanctuary and venture out into the world if only for a few days.