Happy Birthday, Mr Darcy (3 page)

‘But what makes them good?’ Katherine asked.

‘The characters,’ Laurie said. ‘They feel - like - modern.’

Katherine grimaced at Laurie’s use of the word ‘like’ but she, at least, was engaged in the discussion, unlike some of her students.

‘Rupert,’ she said, picking on a handsome boy who was staring out of the window watching as a pair of pretty girls waltzed by the grass in the quad.

‘Yes?’ he said, raising his sleepy eyes to her as if in surprise at seeing her there.

‘Do you have any thoughts about it?’

He looked totally lost for a moment and Katherine kept him suspended in torment for a moment longer before releasing him.

‘Stories survive not just because of empathetic characters that we can still identify with but because the author has something to say to us and they have the ability to communicate that to the reader in a clear and often amusing way. Jane Austen knows how to hook a reader with her endearing and often infuriating characters but she also keeps us hooked by her wit, her observations, and her unique use of language. Lots of other writers had books published at the same time as Jane Austen and yet they’ve been lost to us. Austen has survived because she has a unique voice. But the themes she explores are also important.’

Rupert was staring out of the window again.

‘What themes does she explore, Rupert?’

His head snapped back to face Katherine, his skin a scary white. Katherine watched as the hopeless student flipped through the pages of
Pride and Prejudice
as if the answer to her question would leap out at him at any moment. If Rupert Browning-Danes read only the same number of chapters each day as the number of pints he drunk each night then he wouldn’t be floundering half as much, Katherine thought. Honestly, didn’t some of these students realise that she was feeding them the finest that English literature had to offer?

She thought of her dear friends at Purley Hall and how they would gasp in horror if they knew that these students hadn’t even bothered to read half the books on their syllabus. She often wondered why students chose a subject like literature if they didn’t really like reading. But perhaps Rupert was one of those students who would come back to Austen later in life and think, hey – I missed out on a treat here. She could only live in hope.

‘Love,’ Rupert suddenly blurted out, startling Katherine.

‘Yes, love is a theme which Jane Austen explores in all her novels.’

‘Marriage,’ Rupert added, getting into his stride.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Love and marriage.’

‘Dr Roberts?’ a student called Clara said. ‘Do you think humour works for readers in different times?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Well, we’re reading
Love’s Labours Lost
with Mr Bradley and he keeps telling us it’s a comedy but I don’t find it very funny at all,’ Clara said. Clara was well-known for her straight face and Katherine doubted very much if anything would ever tickle her fancy.

‘Well, what do you think? Take a character like Mr Collins,’ she said. ‘Can’t any age find him amusing?’

‘I just think he’s rather annoying,’ Clara said with a little sneer.

‘Perhaps that’s something we can explore later but, going back to the themes of love and marriage – are they always linked in
Pride and Prejudice
? Do they always go hand in hand?’

Bethany shook her head. ‘I don’t think Mr and Mrs Bennet are in love anymore and Charlotte Lucas doesn’t marry for love, does she?’

Katherine shook her head. ‘That’s right. Marriage was often a matter of survival for women in Jane Austen’s time and Charlotte Lucas knew that Mr Collins’s proposal was probably the only one she’d get and that she’d have to take it. Love was a luxury.’

Laurie giggled. ‘Thank God we don’t have to marry in order to survive now. Marriage is a matter of personal choice. Like yours.’ She said with a sweet smile. ‘You’re marrying for love, aren’t you?’

Katherine smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m marrying for love.’

At the end of the day, Katherine tidied her desk, handed out all the marked essays and the reading list for the holidays and left St Bridget’s College clutching a huge bouquet from the English department. She drove home, leaving Oxford behind her for the duration of the summer and, once she got home, she kicked off her shoes, poured herself a glass of white wine and sat in a pink and green striped deckchair in her garden with her two cats, Freddie and Fitz, for company. She then ran a hot bath, read three chapters of the latest Lorna Warwick novel which she’d been eking out so as not to finish it too quickly, and then she went to bed. Tomorrow was a very important day.

Katherine caught a taxi from the train station in Bath, smiling at the golden-hued buildings of the Georgian town and the streets which Jane Austen would have known so well. Her mind spiralled into her favourite literary worlds and she thought of Catherine Morland and Isabella Thorpe discussing hats and ribbons, and of Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth falling in love all over again.

She wished with all her heart that her timetable allowed her more time for she longed to walk through the streets and squares, a copy of
Persuasion
in her handbag and copy of
Northanger Abbey
in her hands. But she promised herself enough time to pop into the Jane Austen Centre before she caught her train back to Oxford. But this wasn’t just any trip to Bath and now wasn’t the time to be a tourist.

The taxi left the bustle of the city centre behind and headed up into the hilly suburbs until it reached 6 Southville Terrace. It was a very pretty honey-coloured house with an enormous bay window overlooking a tiny garden. It was in a wonderful situation being within easy reach of the centre of Bath but also close to the countryside in a part of town which Jane and her sister Cassandra would have known well from their extensive walks. Katherine loved it.

She paid the driver and got out of the taxi, walking up the little pathway and ringing the bell of number 6. A moment later, a young woman in her mid-twenties opened the door. She had a shock of Marilyn Monroe-blonde hair and a huge lip glossed smile.

‘Katherine!
Katherine!
’ she cried, her arms wide and embracing.

‘Shelley. How lovely to see you.’

‘Come in!
Come in!
’ Shelley said. She had a tendency to say everything twice when she was excited.

It had been Dame Pamela’s idea to get in touch with Shelley Quantock. She was a friend of Mia Castle’s and Mia had told Dame Pamela all about Shelley's wonderful costumes at the Christmas conference and Dame Pamela had commissioned some new ones for the wedding from the talented seamstress in Bath.

‘How
are
you?’ Shelley asked as they entered the hallway. ‘Getting nervous?’

‘No,’ Katherine said. ‘Everybody keeps asking me that but I’m not nervous at all about the wedding.’

‘Just about marriage in general, eh?’ Shelley said with a laugh.

Katherine swallowed hard, not daring to tell Shelley that she was rather close to the mark with her last statement.

‘MIA!’ Shelley suddenly shouted. ‘Katherine’s here!’

There was the thunderous sound of footsteps as Mia ran down the stairs, her dark hair flying out behind her and her eyes shining brightly. She was followed by a huge chestnut dog who hurtled into the hallway at top speed, skidding on the tiled floor and crashing into their visitor.

‘Oh,
Bingley!
Sorry, Katherine,’ Mia said as she pushed the bouncing dog out of the way and embraced Katherine.

It was then that Katherine became aware of a strange smell that seemed to be coming from no room in particular – a blend of ylang ylang oil and peppermint tea, Katherine thought, or maybe peppermint oil and ylang ylang tea – she couldn’t quite be sure.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Shelley asked.

‘Say no!’ Mia blurted. ‘
Never
drink a cup of tea in this house!’

‘It’s all right!’ Shelley said. ‘I wasn’t going to offer her Daddy’s latest. It’s absolutely foul and stains your teeth green. I must tell him before he starts to market it.’

‘Shelley’s dad runs Quantock Teas,’ Mia said, ‘and he tries out his new blends on Shelley. They’re usually lethal to the taste buds and deathly to the nose.’

Katherine smiled. ‘Maybe I’ll just have a glass of water.’

‘Very wise,’ Mia said.

Shelley opened a door from the hallway into the front room where a large man with long hair sat in a chair reading a book called
Oils for Love and Life
.

‘Katherine’s here for her final fitting, Pie,’ Shelley said. ‘We’ll be upstairs, okay?’

Pie grunted something from out of the depths of the chair without looking up from his book and Shelley closed the door.

‘He doesn’t say very much, does he?’ Katherine said, frowning. 

‘No,’ Shelley said, ‘but he has very talkative hands and your mind would boggle if you knew what he could do with a bottle of almond oil.’

Katherine caught Mia’s eye and the two of them grinned.

‘Come on,’ Shelley said, ‘I can’t wait to see you in your dress.’

Chapter 5

The three of them went up the stairs followed by Bingley who was anxious not to miss out on anything.

‘I’ll shut him in your bedroom, Shelley,’ Mia said, catching hold of Bingley’s collar and marching him into one of the rooms off the landing before shutting the door firmly on him. ‘You do not want paw prints on your wedding dress!’

They entered a tiny but perfect room that was full of fabric.

‘This used to be Pie’s room but – well – he’s in mine now,’ Shelley said with a naughty smile. ‘Don’t tell Daddy, though. I don’t think he’d approve. For one thing, he’d expect me to squeeze another tenant in here and this room’s too important for our business now, isn’t it?’

Mia nodded. ‘Since Dame Pamela ordered all those costumes, we’ve been non-stop. Word gets around so quickly in the Austen community and Shelley’s probably one of the most sought-after costume designers in the country.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that but business is definitely booming,’ Shelley said. ‘We’re practically full-time now although I still do three days a week at Tumble Tots and Mia’s still auditioning, aren’t you?’

‘Still waiting for that lucky break!’

‘Tell Katherine about the part you’ve got,’ Shelley said, her face lighting up with a huge smile.

‘What?’ Katherine said.

‘Well, I’ve got a small part in a BBC drama due out next year.’

‘Really? That’s marvellous!’ Katherine said.

‘And she has to sing too!’ Shelley said like a proud mother.

‘Oh, congratulations,’ Katherine said, giving Mia a hug.

‘Well, it’s just a small part.’

‘Yes, like Marilyn Monroe’s in
All About Eve
,’ Shelley said with a wink. ‘You’ll
totally
steal the show!’

‘I’m sure you will, Mia. It’s great news. I’m so excited for you,’ Katherine said.

Mia smiled. ‘Gabe’s really thrilled. He won’t stop talking about it. Last week, we were doing our weekly shop and he went and told the cashier!’

Shelley and Katherine laughed.

‘Oh, you must come and say hello to him,’ Mia said. ‘He wants you to sign your book for him.’

‘I’d be happy to,’ Katherine said, her hand reaching out to touch a beautiful satiny dress in a lovely apple-green. Her eye then caught a row of bright ribbons and she gasped. This whole room was a feast for the eyes, she thought.

‘It’s so cruel that a bride only gets to wear one dress when there are so many wonderful fabrics to choose from,’ she said.

‘Well, I’m not stopping you from buying more dresses,’ Shelley said, ‘but I would like to point out that I’ll only have four days in which to make them.’

‘Best that I just stick to the one, then,’ Katherine said with a reluctant sigh.

‘And here it is,’ Shelley said.

Katherine turned to see the dress which had been hiding behind a beautiful old-fashioned dressing screen which Shelley had covered in scraps of vintage wallpaper.

Mia sighed in delight as Shelley brought it out for Katherine whilst the bride-to-be merely gazed in silent wonder.

The dress was a perfect column of white chiffon which gave it a wonderfully fluid quality and it was unimaginably soft to the touch. The wide square neckline was pretty but modest and the sleeves were long and trimmed with lace. Scalloped detailing at the bottom made the dress look as if it was dancing and it was finished with a pearl-white ribbon under the bust. It was simple and unostentatious – just as Katherine had asked. Not for her were the Marie Antoinette-style gowns with skirts wider than the average church aisle nor the cleavage-skimming, no-sleeve gowns that left so little to the imagination. She wanted elegant, beautiful and simple.

White wasn’t the prevalent colour for wedding dresses during Jane Austen’s time. Many chose darker colours which would make it much easier to use the dress again afterwards but Katherine liked the idea of white and Warwick thought that a white wedding was the most romantic thing he could think of.

Still unable to speak, Katherine was helped by Shelley and Mia as she tried the dress on and, a couple of minutes later, they gasped in amazement at the vision before them.

‘Are you comfortable?’ Shelley asked. ‘Nothing too tight or too loose anywhere?’

Katherine shook her head.

‘Oh, Katherine! You look amazing. Straight out of a novel,’ Mia said.

Shelley smiled, her eyes wide and filled with wonder at her creation. ‘You’ve brought the dress to life,’ she said.

Katherine turned around and dared to look at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall opposite. Her long dark hair looked almost Pre-Raphaelite against the pure white of the dress. She was planning on wearing it threaded through with ribbons and white roses on the big day but, today, it was loose and unadorned – just as Warwick liked it.

It was then that something strange happened. Katherine’s eyes filled with tears which overflowed and spilled down her pale cheeks.