Jane Actually

Willie Sutton, a prolific American bank robber, supposedly said, “Because that’s where the money is,” when asked, “Why do you rob banks?”

Seattle
The other shoe
    “W hat do you know about this?” Melody asked as she pushed her laptop toward Mary, who was scooping cream cheese from a little plastic package to schmear onto her toasted bagel. It was a bagel in name only, but habits die hard. They were sitting in the free breakfast room of their hotel, which was almost empty. Jane and Melody had come down earlier and Mary found them conspiring. Mary had had a difficult night’s sleep and was still dragging. Before answering, she took a careful sip of her coffee, but the contents of the pump pot had grown cold.
    “What do I know about what?” She looked at the laptop and saw an article at
The Daily Beast: “
Jane Austen scholar questions identity of Regency author.”
    “I don’t understand, what is this?” She was confused and still groggy and not quite sure why they seemed unduly concerned. It was unfortunate, of course, but they knew there were some who still didn’t believe Jane was Jane.
    “That’s what we’re asking you,” Melody said.
    “Melody, don’t accuse her. Mary, dear, we just wondered if your Stephen might have given you any idea that Dr Davis felt this way about me.”
    “What? Dr Davis?” She looked more closely at the screen and realized the article was about Stephen’s graduate advisor. “It’s asking a lot to just accept this is the real Jane Austen,” the article quoted her as saying. “There’s no reason to doubt her, of course, but the opaqueness of how the AfterNet certifies identities just leaves one wondering what criteria were used to vet her identity.”
    Mary read the rest of the article and saw that Davis actually gave several reasons why Jane might not be Jane, without coming out and denouncing her.
    “Why would she say this?” Mary asked. “And no, I had no idea she felt this way.”
    She looked up at Melody who was still glaring. “Honestly, I don’t know and I …”
    Her phone stopped her and the ring tone—the latest catchy summer song—indicated the caller was Stephen.
    “Hello,” she said, “Yes, I just saw it. How could … yes, she’s right here, and Melody too. Uh huh … OK.” She activated the phone’s speaker. “Go ahead.”
    “I’m so sorry, Miss Austen. I don’t know why she said those things, but I know she’s been … well she was annoyed by your open letter.” Melody directed an “I told you so” look to Jane. “Somehow she’s gotten it into her head you were talking about her.”
    Unfortunately Jane didn’t quite catch all that Stephen had said; Melody’s terminal having had difficulty recognizing the voice on the phone’s speaker.
    “What did he say?” Jane asked.
    Mary realized the problem and told Jane to switch to her terminal after syncing with her phone, and then she repeated Stephen’s remarks.
    “But my letter was not directed to her, Stephen. I have nothing but respect for her.”
    “Did you know she was going to confront Jane?” Melody asked bluntly.
    “No … well, no. Maybe I should have seen it coming. I think a lot of it is resentment. For some reason everyone thinks she was on the AfterNet committee and everyone thinks the decision was unanimous, so she keeps getting interviewed.”
    “Maybe if Jane could meet with Dr Davis and explain …”
    “No Mary, I don’t think that would be wise,” Jane said. “At least not at present. Much of this problem is of my own making. I should have consulted with Melody before I wrote my open letter. Fortunately we now have a publicist who can repair what damage there might be, but perhaps we are flying off the handle. Graciousness should be our tone, don’t you think, Melody?”
    Melody, still glaring at Stephen, as represented by Mary’s phone, was caught off guard. “What? Oh, if you say so Jane.”
    “And Stephen, thank you for your call.” Jane said. “It was kind of you.”
    “You’re welcome,” he replied. Recognizing a dismissal, he apologized again and spoke a further few words to Mary privately, and then rang off.
    “I don’t think we can trust him,” Melody said.
    “How can you say that? It was pretty decent of him to call and apologize!” Mary said.
    “It was a very gentleman-like thing to do, I agree,” Jane said soothingly. “But perhaps we should simply exercise prudence. After all, if we say something indiscreet in