Jane Actually

stood up and gathered the attention of the women by clinking her water glass with a knife.
    “I think we would all like to thank Jane for joining us tonight and especially for all the joy she has brought us over the years.” The women applauded and Jane felt quite moved. “And I’m sure we’re all hoping the next book won’t take two hundred years.” The laughter, Jane judged by the looks of the other diners, must have been quite loud.
    “Now we all know what a … significant day this is for Jane. It’s a day that many of us mourn, but I’m told by Melody Kramer, she’s Jane’s agent, that last year they actually celebrated today as a kind of second or half birthday. Now Jane, they celebrate birthdays at this restaurant with a certain tradition.”
    Suddenly several of the wait staff appeared, one of whom was holding some sort of furry object with horns, and to Jane they appeared to be singing. The terminal couldn’t translate the words. The waitress holding the furry object came behind Jane’s chair and put it on the table, next to the terminal. She now realized the furry thing was meant to be a hat.
    “We had hoped we could put the birthday buffalo hat on your avatar, Jane.”
    Jane was at first appalled at the idea of poor Mary being forced to wear the ridiculous hat. She shared with Mary a reluctance to appear ridiculous and knew her friend would have blushed at the prospect. The other women were all looking at the hat and several were taking photographs and Jane realized that to refuse to wear the hat would be tactless.
    “I’m sure Mary—my avatar—is bitterly regretting her opportunity to wear the … buffalo hat on this special occasion. Might I suggest that each of you wear it in turn?”
    This met with general approbation and in turn, each woman wore the hat and many pictures were taken and then a cake was produced with the words “Happy Birthday, Jane!” written in icing.
    Everyone then sang “Happy Birthday!” and many other diners joined in the singing and especially in the applause as the Janeites used her full name.
    “Thank you, thank you everyone. I shall always remember the day I wore the buffalo hat,” she said. “And I shall insist on photos being sent to me.”
    . . .
    “And then they all wore the buffalo hat and they all looked very silly,” Jane said.
    “That’s nice,” Mary said in a sleepy voice and with half-closed eyes. She yawned while answering: “I hope there’re pictures.”
    Mary’s reply was slightly garbled by the terminal, but Jane guessed what Mary had said. “Oh yes, I insisted, but you are tired and I should let you rest.”
    For the last fifteen minutes, Mary had been trying to convey to Jane how much she desired rest. She had managed a few hours sleep while Jane was gone, but had awakened at ten o’clock with Jane still not returned.
    She had become accustomed to Jane’s walkabouts and was not too worried and occupied her time by watching a movie. She was enjoying the experience of watching it alone, without needing to explain to Jane every cultural reference. And for once she felt free to watch something stupid. Not that Jane ever commented or criticized Mary’s taste, but sharing a hotel room with the very model of English literature precluded one from suggesting they watch a Jim Carrey movie.
    As midnight approached, Mary was beginning to grow anxious. Just a little after midnight, however, she got a call that Jane had returned and she walked down to the lobby and met Ms Hornung and Ms Reineke, who had very obviously been making merry. At first Mary was alarmed that they had been driving, but it was explained that Ms Hornung’s husband had driven them back from the restaurant, allowing for some of the delay.
    Mary thanked them for showing Jane a good time and they left still in good spirits, spirits Jane was still enjoying. She nattered away at Mary, telling her how much she would have liked the restaurant and describing each of the diners and their habits and peculiarities in detail.
    Mary listened to this with a smile, happy that her friend had such a good time and disappointed she had been unable to attend, although she was happy to have escaped wearing the buffalo hat. She did not enjoy looking stupid.
    But a full half-hour of this left her desperately wanting sleep and her final “That’s nice” was her last word of the evening.
    Jane saw her friend fall asleep and was tempted to make one last observation about the unfortunate