Jane, Actually Page 4

  When the regional coordinator post became vacant he suggested she run for it, which she did and was elected. At that time, the AGM was still three years off, the North Texas region having secured the honour of hosting it under the leadership of the previous coordinator.

  Harry quickly learned, however, that hosting an AGM was a daunting undertaking. He hadn’t realized what he’d talked his wife into. She seemed to spend less and less time enjoying Jane Austen and more and more time talking to catering managers and airlines and local businesses and cranky authors and even crankier academics.

  “What’s up, hon?” he asked, getting a sinking feeling even as he asked it. He of course knew the recent news of Jane Austen and suspected it might have an effect on her planning.

  “Two years planning down the drain because Jane Austen’s coming to the AGM!”

  “But that’s a good thing!” He regretted saying it immediately.

  “It was supposed to be 200 Years of Sense and Sensibility, and now all it’s going to be is the Second Coming of Jane. We’re going to have to scrap the whole program.”

  Harold knew his wife was no Mrs Bennet7 and not given to hyperbole, but still he wondered at her reaction.

  “So who were you on the phone with?”

  “Everybody. Ajala Johnsson and Dick Wilson and Lorna White. Ajala just got a call from Jane Austen’s agent … can you believe it? Jane Austen’s agent! She wants to know if it would cause a bother if she attended the AGM? Ha! A bother!”

  – SOMERSET, ENGLAND –

  Courtney looked at the English countryside whizzing by the train, or rather the reverse, for the train was whizzing past the countryside. But to him, it certainly felt like it was the world that was whizzing past. He refreshed the Google news search on his laptop and saw another story about Jane Austen. “Chick lit author ready to ink sequel,” said the cheeky headline in a British tabloid, predicting a sequel to Pride and Prejudice even though the Austen claimant had repeatedly said it would never happen.

  He pulled his hand through his hair, destroying his carefully sculpted spiky hairstyle. She can’t really be alive, I mean dead, I mean … you know what I mean, he thought. Could the timing be any worse?

  From the empty seat beside him, he picked up the mock-up of his book cover that he’d received last week. It showed a ghosted portrait of a model dressed in Regency costume superimposed over the oh-so-familiar silhouette of Jane Austen. The cover looked good, although the model seemed more endowed than he’d ever imagined the author.

  Oh damn, what’s she going to say about the cover. Will it flatter her or will she object? And how the hell does anyone know she’s really Jane Austen?

  The last question he’d asked himself time and again since he’d heard the news that Austen had managed to prove her identity.

  He looked at the mock-up and quietly read out loud the title: The Real Jane Austen: Hidden Passions and Secret Desires.

  He dropped his head and the older woman sitting on the opposite side of the aisle might have heard a small moan escape him. His ringing phone interrupted his self-pity.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Courtney,” he heard his agent say. He winced at the use of his full name and wondered again why he couldn’t convince his own agent to call him Court.

  “Yeah, Dan, what’s up? I’m sorry I haven’t sent my thoughts on the mock up.” Courtney offered an apologetic shrug to the woman across the aisle. She returned to her perusal of a knitting magazine.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Listen, there’s been a change on the publication schedule.”

  “What? They can’t move it any closer. I still …” His voice rose and again he attracted the attention of Miss Marple. Courtney turned his head toward the window.

  “No, not closer, they want to delay it. But don’t worry, it’s good news.”

  “How can it be good news they want to delay the publication? And I already bought the tickets for the book tour.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Courtney. You can throw those tickets away. We now have a tour budget, paid for by the publisher. They want to time the release to whenever Austen publishes her book. Anything Austen is hot right now, so you’re sitting pretty. Can it get any better?”

  “Oh, no, I mean yeah, that’s great.”

  “And there’s a rumour going around that they want Jane Austen to be on a book tour, although I have no idea how they would manage it. Luckily I have a friend who might be able to leak me the itinerary when it comes time. Think about how great that would be for you? You could be signing your book right next to Jane Austen herself. I guess she wouldn’t be signing her book, of course. Maybe they can hire an avatar to do it. There have to be copies of her autograph somewhere, right?”

  Dan kept babbling away, envisioning the book tour and obviously very happy having a so-so client with his limited appeal book suddenly become a hot property. But all Courtney could think of was sitting next to an invisible Jane Austen disapproving of his book.

  “You have no idea how great it is having a real touring budget. I usually have to tell my clients to book their own tickets and tell them to stay with family … hell you know what I’m talking about! Well look, got to go. I’m very happy for you, Courtney.”

  Courtney silently cursed after his agent hung up and as he did so, he realized he’d been looking at the woman across the aisle and she’d correctly interpreted his four-letter word. She gave him a long, disapproving look and returned to her magazine.

  Courtney was embarrassed and disappointed that he’d allowed his fear and frustration to be evident to the old woman, although he certainly had justification. His book was essentially finished, and if there were no Austen claimant, it could stand on its own, but now that there was one, he desperately needed the letter. To actually know in her own words the name of Jane’s Lyme Regis lover8 would be amazing, assuming of course it corresponded with his conjectures. And it would certainly make it difficult for the Austen claimant to refute him.

  He was travelling back to Bath to see if he could find proof the Gorrell family had any connection with the Austen family. And from there he hoped to trace the family forward. Unfortunately it meant nothing if he couldn’t find the old lady and the letter, the trail having run cold sometime in the 1980s.

  He tried to reassure himself that even if he were unable to find the letter, his book was solid enough, but he knew he might have pushed some of his suppositions a little far.

  He’d weathered criticism before, of course. His Byron biography was controversial, and he had been prepared to have some hard-core Janeites take issue with the book, although he had also hoped it would appeal to the incurable romantics who wanted to think Jane had actually experienced some real passion.

  Maybe I’m blowing it out of proportion. Maybe Austen won’t mind me revealing her affair. After all, that was a long time ago. Maybe if I contact her, she’ll give me an interview.

  He decided to look up her address on the net, but of course searching for Jane Austen produced a lot of results that weren’t relevant. Then he went to the AfterNet and searched for her again and found several stories about her identity being certified but that still didn’t produce an email address by which he might contact the one true Jane Austen.

  Then he went to facebook and the same was true again. There were several Jane Austen pages and many usernames like JaneAusten12 and janeaustenauthor and IAmJaneAusten, but he had no clue which was genuine.

  He’d assumed once she had proven her identity, Jane Austen would be easy to find, but he supposed it wouldn’t be any different than if he wanted to find Salman Rushdie’s email address. He thought that perhaps his agent might be able to find Austen’s agent and he could get a review copy to her that way. He was dialling his agent’s number but stopped before the final digit.

  And what if she says I’m making it all up. No, I don’t want to approach her until I can authenticate the letter. After all, no one’s said anything negative about the book. All the p
roof readers thought it well written and I made my arguments.

  He tried to quell the worry that only two of the reviewers to whom he’d sent the book were scholarly Janeites and he had sent them early incomplete drafts. He’d meant to send other drafts but kept delaying, hoping he might finally gain access to the letter.

  Maybe if I just found another Janeite, a real scholar, and I could explain to her about the letter. After all, we’re all in the same boat now.

  He looked at his folder on his laptop where he’d collected the various references he’d used in writing his book. He saw the Persuasions9 articles by Dr Alice Davis. She was a respected Austen scholar, even if she did have a reputation for promoting a feminist agenda. He’d early on considered interviewing her for his book, but she also had a reputation for not suffering fools gladly.

  The train was now slowing as they approached Bath. He unplugged the computer’s power supply from the outlet under the seat and collected his coat. He looked for the old woman he’d offended and saw she’d already left her seat and was making for the queue to exit. He stood up as well, but waited to proceed until the train completely stopped.

  It was time to return his attention to the purpose of his visit. His first stop was the Guildhall. Once he got to his bed and breakfast he would search again for Mrs Westerby … and he would try to contact Dr Davis through the University of Chicago website.

  After all, she was on the committee that identified Austen. If I can get a good review from her, that should count for something.

  1 Corn Laws refers to any number of protective trade legislations that kept grain prices high in Britain. Corn is a generic term for grain. The Enclosure Acts encouraged wealthy landowners to enclose common grazing lands, to the detriment of villagers who freely used the commons for centuries. Many villagers, unable to make a living, moved to cities.

  2 Deirdre Le Faye is an eminent UK Janeite and author of Jane Austen: A Family Record. Dr Joan Klingel Ray is a past president of the Jane Austen Society of North America (JASNA) and the author of Jane Austen for Dummies.

  3 Anna Austen Lefroy’s continuation is also unfinished. The Lefroy and Austen families were very close. Austen’s niece married Benjamin Lefroy, a cousin of that Tom Lefroy.

  4 Sir Thomas Bertram is the uncle of Fanny Price, the heroine of Mansfield Park, Austen’s third published novel

  5 Each year, JASNA convenes in a different city for the Annual General Meeting

  6 Austen is buried at Winchester Cathedral

  7 The mother of Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice. Mrs Bennet was given to histrionics.

  8 Austen visited Lyme Regis at least twice in her lifetime, and in a letter Jane sent to Cassandra about a dance she attended there, remarks on “a new odd-looking man who had been eyeing me for some time, and at last, without any introduction, asked me if I meant to dance again. I think he must be Irish by his ease, and because I imagine him to belong to the Honbl. Barnwalls, who are the son and son’s wife of an Irish viscount, bold and queer-looking people, just fit to be quality at Lyme.” There is no reason to believe the relationship involved more than the one dance.

  9 Persuasions is a journal published by JASNA

  An empty chair

  Jane needs an avatar

  “Then we are agreed,” Mr Pembroke said and sat back in his chair. Jane regarded him with some amusement, charmed by his manner that seemed so like her Mr Gardiner.1 He is just as I imagined, a good and sensible man with just that sort of amusement. It helped strengthen the resemblance that he was English—having lived in America a number of years—had grey hair, balding on top, and affected wire-rimmed spectacles that did not obscure his grey eyes.

  It was their fourth meeting, and Jane could not complain of Melody’s skills at negotiation, but to be honest, Mr Pembroke hardly objected to any of her demands. He professed to be Jane’s ardent admirer, having “cut his teeth on Austen,” a phrase that made him laugh just as she imagined Mr Gardiner would.

  Damme, what was his first name? It won’t do for me to forget the name of … wait, did I ever give him a first name?

  She felt slightly foolish, foolish for again cursing and then for forgetting. I did create him two hundred years ago. And I have created not a few characters.

  “… if you might consider changing the title?”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry, you want to change the title?” Melody asked.

  “It’s just … now I know this is just one of those marketing things that drives authors insane … it’s just your most famous novel is Pride and Prejudice and …”

  “I see where this is going, Mr Pembroke,” Jane said, her words audible for the man through the small speaker attached to the AfterNet terminal on the table before them. “My next most famous novel is Sense and Sensibility and you would like another three word title that is similarly alliterative.” Jane hoped the digitized voice of the terminal would convey that she wasn’t upset by the suggestion.

  “But it’s been known as Sanditon for two hundred years,” Melody said. “Why would you …”

  “It also has been called Sand and Sanditon, Melody, although I never quite understood that. And I thought of it as The Brothers. I will certainly consider your suggestion, Mr Pembroke.” Then she thought her words sounded dismissive, and added, “After all, my first titles did not often survive and I’m sure my fame would have suffered if my first books had remained First Impressions and Elinor and Marianne.”

  “Excellent. Now, could we turn to the matter of the avatar?” he asked, obviously pleased at having won a small battle.

  “Avatar? What avatar? Melody, did you know of this?”

  Melody would not turn to meet her, but nodded her head.

  “Mr Pembroke, could I have a moment alone with my client?”

  The gentleman nodded and left the table, saying he would refill his coffee. After he left, Jane again addressed her friend.

  “I do not recall agreeing to an avatar.”

  “Well, I do not recall you objecting to one.”

  “Who do you think I am? A dead movie star? A politician?”

  “No, you’re just a world famous author who’s inspired a cult following. Look, lots of people have avatars, Jane. And … well a book tour looks pretty stupid with an empty chair.”

  “I thought you would accompany me.”

  “When I can, yes, but this book tour has you going everywhere, which you agreed to.”

  “Yes, but …”

  “There are no buts, Jane. Look, I’m going to be awfully busy back here looking after Jane Austen Enterprises, or whatever you want to call it. And I can’t be on the road with you the whole time. You’re going to need somebody to be me and carry this.” She pointed to the terminal on her arm. “And wouldn’t it be better if instead of being me, they were being you. That way they have someone to focus on instead of an empty chair.”

  “Stop saying empty chair. I am here.”

  Melody rolled her eyes at this, a gesture Jane despised in others for all the times she had employed it herself, usually against her brother Henry.

  “I know you are Jane, I’m sorry,” she said, addressing the empty chair and now doing her best to appear as if she could actually see her friend and client. Jane let the moment drag on without responding and Melody did her best to look sincere and supportive. After a very few seconds, however, the look of sincerity on Melody’s face gave way to the corners of her mouth lifting until finally it disappeared behind a wide smile.

  “I can’t keep this up, Jane. Are you going to forgive me?”

  Finally Jane relented. “Yes, you are forgiven. And yes, you have made your point. Perhaps it would be as well were I to employ an avatar.”

  “Good, glad you see it my way,” Melody said. Then she stood and went to the door, opened it and beckoned Mr Pembroke to return.

  Once seated, he said, “Ahem, I hope there is no problem regarding the avatar.”

  “Jane is willing t
o consider it,” Melody said, before Jane could form her response.

  “It must depend on the suitability of the … I suppose she will be an actress,” Jane said.

  “Yes, I have an agency in mind. They’re called Stand By Me. They have supplied avatars to many celebrities who have … passed on. Perhaps you could interview the candidates yourself, if that would make you more comfortable.”

  “That’s an excellent idea, isn’t it Jane? We wouldn’t want a focus group deciding who to play you.”

  “Yes,” Jane replied, unnerved that there had been any possibility of a focus group—whatever that was—choosing her avatar.

  “Then let me send you …”—he took out his phone and punched the screen—“… my contact at the agency. You should have it now Melody. And now unless there is anything else, we get the lawyers to finalize the contract and we can look forward to a long relationship, Miss Austen.”

  “Thank you Mr Pembroke.”

  “If I might presume, please call me Alan. I know in your day …”

  “That was another time, Alan. And if you would please call me Jane.”

  “It would be my honour. And if I might just say, I was considering retiring. There are several people in the company who think I’m a bit long in the tooth. But the opportunity to work with you Miss Austen … Jane. Well I would say it’s a lifelong dream come true, but who would have thought it possible to work with a dead … disembodied author.”