Jane Actually

ones?”
    “The Gwyneth Paltrow
Emma
.”
    “I liked that one.”
    “
Mansfield Park
, the ’99 one.” Melody made a face.
    “The slavery one? I did not care for that.”
    “Neither did I. And the Weinsteins were trying to make a movie out of
Becoming Jane Austen
… did you ever read that?”
    “No, I did not, although I understand it was well received.”
    “I bet Spence wishes he’d had you to talk to. Then again … anyway, it never got made, but God knows what they would have done with it. So now they’ve made an offer for
Sanditon
.”
    “And what is your thought?” Jane asked.
    Melody paused before answering. “You do know I’m out of my depth here. It really would be a good idea …”
    “We are not having this discussion again, Melody. You are my agent; I will consider no other. Hire whomever you need and increase your commission.”
    “Jane, you can’t just … if I make a mistake … it could cost you millions.”
    “What difference does it make? I hardly need the money. As long as I see my name on the title or in the movie’s credits and … well, naturally I wouldn’t want my name associated with …”
    “You see? It is important. And talking about hiring people, I am getting you a publicist.”
    “A what?”
    “Someone to promote you in the press, who makes sure your name is out there.”
    “I thought you did that?”
    “Not really. I sell you to publishers and movie studios and if someone wants to sell a Jane Austen perfume and so on, but I don’t really promote you the same way a publicist would.”
    “Why ever would I want this?”
    Melody sighed. She knew this would not be an easy task. “Your name, your reputation … well there’ll be people who’ll want to tarnish it, or who want to leverage off your fame for whatever reason. Look, you of all people should know there are some nasty people out there; you certainly created some fine examples.”
    Jane did not respond so Melody continued. “Let’s say somebody unearths some scandal about you. Maybe something about Tom Lefroy and you …”
    “There is … there was nothing salacious about my relationship with Mr Lefroy, and surely that is ancient history.”
    “I don’t know how someone would spin it to make it … tawdry … or relevant. But believe me, there are nasty people out there who could. If you have a publicist, well it’s someone who can …”
    “Lie for me?”
    “Massage the truth. Or at least someone who can draft a response for you. You can get snitty, Jane, and occasionally you can say …”
    “Is there something you are withholding from me, Melody?”
    “Well, yes, there is. There’s a book coming out from someone named Courtney Blake. It’s a biography of you.”
    “It is unflattering?”
    “I don’t know, I haven’t read it, but I did get word what it’s about.”
    “Which is?” Jane prompted after Melody fell silent.
    “It re-evaluates you … and all your novels … from a psychological basis … and a sexual basis. It speculates if you had sex and if so, with whom you had it.” Melody spoke the last sentence quickly.
    “What, like that horrid book from the nineties?”
    “You knew about that?”
    “Not at the time, but after the discovery of the afterlife. I gather it made a little furore coming about the same time as the BBC miniseries. I was dismayed that the same old prejudice against spinsters prevailed, but it was not well received and is largely forgotten, although I know you have a copy.”
    Melody looked embarrassed and she rushed to defend herself. “How did you … it was … it made you … I never believed it.”
    “It doesn’t matter. And now this person has revisited those accusations.”
    “No, it’s much more than that. Apparently he’s examined everything you’ve written, things your characters say. He’s talked to psychiatrists and FBI profilers to make up a picture of you. I’ve also heard, and this is largely rumour because the book isn’t out yet, that he speculates you rejected Harris Bigg-Wither … because you preferred the company of women.”
    Jane was silent for a second before answering. “Ah well, at least he doesn’t accuse me of congress with my sister. I can assure you, Melody, I was no Gentleman Jack or lady of Llangollen, 1 but even if I was, surely it no longer matters today. Why I even believe my best friend prefers the company of women.”
    Melody paused before answering. “I don’t really know, Jane. There’re a lot of