Jane Actually

I can prove it if the letter and journal are authentic. And if I’m wrong, then Stephen’s right and I’ve alienated everyone who’s bought into this stupid I Believe in Jane nonsense. Oh God, I went too far.

VOLUME III

Titbits III
Heard outside a JASNA AGM during the street promenade
    PASSERBY: “What’s going on? Why’s everyone dressed up?”
    JANEITE: “It’s the annual Jane Austen convention. This is the promenade where we walk around in period costume.”
    PASSERBY: “Who’s Jane Austen?”
    JANEITE: “She was a Regency author. She wrote
Pride and Prejudice
? You know, Colin Firth, wet shirt.”
    PASSERBY: “Oh yeah. Sure, sure. Is she here?”

A large spanner
Davis’s accusation causes anxiety
    C indy walked back into her living room, still in a state of panic over the conversation she’d just finished with Dr Davis, one of the scholars who would be presenting a breakout session. She had called Davis because of what she thought must be baseless rumours of bad feelings between her and Jane Austen.
    Unfortunately the rumours weren’t baseless, which she would have known if she’d bothered to pay attention to the Internet, but she’d been too busy with organizing. She and the other North Texas members had been working nonstop to prepare for the AGM, and she hadn’t been following the news of Austen’s book tour.
    Then yesterday she started getting calls from Ajala Johnsson and Joan Ray and even Davis’s former colleague Elisabeth Lenckos, 1 warning her there could be trouble at the AGM.
    And so she didn’t know until yesterday that Davis had publicly challenged Austen’s identity. She quickly looked up the articles and even saw a BBC video of Davis doing so. She was obviously uncomfortable at being questioned directly on the matter and tried to pull back from directly calling Austen a fraud, but clearly she was challenging the author’s identity.
    “Cindy, do you have the address for the streaming site? JASNA New York wants it,” Beth Ann asked.
    Megan also took advantage of Cindy’s return: “Caroline can’t pick up Austen at the airport. Should I call Barbara?”
    Cindy realized all eyes were on her as she stood there, unable to make any sort of response.
    “Hon, what’s wrong?” her husband asked. He stood and walked to her and took her hand.
    “Somebody died,” Megan said, her automatic reaction whenever someone looked shocked.
    “No, nobody died,” Cindy said. She looked around her home, at the three people in the dining room using her table to finish stuffing the goodie bags and at her kitchen where her two sons were making sandwiches. From the open door to the garage she heard the sounds of people making up the information packets.
    “Megan, Beth Ann, let’s go in the backyard.” She didn’t mention her husband but kept a grip on his hand and they all left through the sliding glass doors and onto the deck. It was still pleasant outdoors, with just a hint of coolness from the shadow the late afternoon sun cast onto the wooden deck. She took a seat at the table that was weighted down with the placards and banners that would direct participants to the AGM.
    “Are you sure nobody’s dead?” Megan asked again.
    “Nobody who wasn’t dead already,” Cindy said. She just had the sudden thought that if she died she’d still be able to attend the AGM, and then remembered the uncomfortable talk she’d had with her husband about what they would do if either did die.
    She gave a slight shudder that alarmed her husband. “What is it, hon?”
    She explained the situation to her two coordinators and to her husband, who in these final days was at her beck and call.
    “So we’ve gone from
Two Hundred Years of Sense and Sensibility
to
I Believe in Jane
and now it’s what,
I Don’t Believe in Jane
?” Beth Ann asked.
    “What exactly did she say, hon? Did she really say she would denounce Austen?”
    “She said … something like … she said she has a document and if Austen would identify it, it would satisfy her. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. I tried to explain the AGM’s not the place to make an accusation like this.”
    Her husband disagreed: “I don’t know, maximum exposure and all that. I’m just saying.” Cindy gave him an irritable look. He was a defence attorney and always looked at things from the wrong side.
    “Is there anything we can do?” Beth Ann asked. “Well, not us … the larger us. Can somebody try and talk her out of