Jane Actually

participants and their desire to recreate the past, specifically her past, but naturally no one had ever given thought to how it might appear to the person whose name was lent to the festival. At a quick, first glance the crowd looked like a Regency gathering. From her vantage point with Mary beside her, all she could see were the re-enactors assembling for the promenade, which in itself was such a strange concept, looking like a civil insurrection of the ton. 1
    What most assaulted her eye, however, was the confusion of dress, with styles ranging from the time of several different kings named George and through to the Victorian. And there were some costumes that would never pass muster in any age with a strange artificiality of fabric and colour impossible during her time. She also saw stitching, fit and design unworthy even of her own poor skills as a seamstress and not a few garments that seemed held together with Velcro and pins.
    There were, of course, those participants whose costume and manner were meticulously appropriate to Jane’s time in Bath, but they bothered her even more. They made her realize that when she imagined her corporeal existence, her image was not of her productive and mostly happy years in Chawton, but of their removal to Bath and the first betrayal by her father (the second being his death).
Why should my mental image of myself be from that time?
    BertieFromHants says:
    Hello, Jane? Is there something wrong?
    Albert’s question awakened Jane from her reverie.
    JaneAusten3 says:
    I am sorry, I was answering a question from a co-worker. It is unforgivably rude of me.
    BertieFromHants says:
    Then I should allow you to return to work. I don’t want you to get fired for talking to a friend.
    They ended their chat, a much shorter one than usual, with promises to talk again soon, but they did not set a date, which was their custom. Jane was too preoccupied to realize this, especially as the time was approaching for the promenade to begin.
    “We’re about to begin. Are you done updating your blog?” Mary asked.
    “Just finishing.”
    “Ladies and gentleman, if I might have your attention!” boomed Martin, the emcee of the promenade. “We are about to begin and I would like to re-introduce our guest of honour, Miss Jane Austen, who …”
    A polite round of applause interrupted his introduction.
    “… who would like to say a few words.”
    Mary walked to the microphone, offered her hand to the emcee, thanked him, and turned to the crowd.
    “Thank you, Martin, and thank you everyone for celebrating Bath and the Regency and my own contribution to that tempestuous age. I am fair brought back to those days by the sight of you, young and old and from so many parts of the world. I confess, however, that my presence here may be somewhat controversial, even though this festival bears my name. You may know that my opinions of Bath were … somewhat decided …”
    The crowd laughed at this.
    “… and possibly might be described as uncharitable. This city seems to take a positive delight in reminding people of my harsh judgments. But I tell you now that Bath and Jane Austen are inextricably linked and I am honoured that I have been asked to officially open the festival. Please forgive me any of my ill-chosen remarks. I can only say that Bath is now as much my home as is Hampshire and I would like to again thank the Right Worshipful Mayor of Bath for bestowing on me the Long Service Award, for which they needed to create a two hundred years category.”
    Mary again waited for the applause, which was much louder this time.
    “And now I declare, ‘Let the promenade begin.’”
    Mary then put her hand on the emcee’s proffered arm and they left the square and strolled toward York Street.
    All that Mary said, however, was lost on Jane, who continued to brood.
    All lies,
Jane thought.
When did I learn to lie to so easily? I have gone so far as to pretend that I am editing a young adult vampire novel, although I rather liked the idea of it. Stupid woman! Do not distract yourself. I must tell Albert the truth before the AGM,
she resolved, and hurried to stay with Mary and the promenade.

    Albert ended the chat with great misgivings. They had failed to set a date for their next chat in their rushed goodbyes. Jane had seemed reluctant to talk and eager to quit. It was all the more unusual for she had initiated the chat. At first he thought she had some news for him, but then she talked of