Jane Actually

others are similarly afflicted. When Emma paints a portrait of her friend Harriet Smith, Mr Woodhouse observes: “The only thing I do not thoroughly like is, that she seems to be sitting out of doors, with only a little shawl over her shoulders—and it makes one think she must catch cold.”

Launching Sanditon

Planning the NYC/London book launches
    M elody rubbed her temples and then her eyes. She couldn’t believe the difficulties of scheduling the London launch party and why she needed to be here at the meeting, but consoled herself with the thought that it was just one of the responsibilities of being Jane Austen’s agent.
    She was tired from worrying about the tension that had developed between herself and Jane. Melody felt some measure of responsibility—perhaps she had taken a little too seriously her new role as Jane’s business manager and maybe she had been trying to use Mary as leverage with Jane, but everything she’d done had been in their best interests.
    Thankfully relations had warmed lately and Jane seemed to take her suggestions as intended and Melody had tried to not interfere with Jane’s relationship with Mary. It was, after all, in their best interests that Jane and Mary should be the closest of friends, although that might make it all the harder once they no longer needed Mary as an avatar.
    The other headache had been moving into the office space for the combined Kramer Associates/Austen Enterprises; and interviewing candidates for the job of her assistant. That last task might be put aside, however. She’d just heard from Rebecca, her former assistant. She was affianced no longer and had called Melody for support and sympathy and Melody had surprised herself by mentioning the possibility of Rebecca returning to New York.
    She was surprised because she thought she still held resentment over Rebecca’s abandonment. Rebecca had gotten engaged without telling Melody, and it was something of a surprise when Rebecca announced she was moving to California to start her own agency and get married. During their conversation, however, Melody was reminded how much she had depended on Rebecca. Unfortunately she wasn’t quite sure if she’d actually offered the job to Rebecca and thought maybe …
    “What about Tuesday? Would that work for Miss Austen?” Mr Laurence asked, his voice surprisingly clear over the conference call speaker in Mr Pembroke’s office.
    Melody had a moment of confusion, trying to remember what they’d been talking about.
    “Excuse me, I didn’t quite hear that,” she said.
    “Can we nail down Tuesday as the book launch and have the party that evening?” the voice over the speaker said.
    “Uh, yes, that will be fine,” Melody said. Actually, she’d hoped to be doing some of her own sightseeing on Tuesday, but obviously the book launch was the most important thing they would be doing in London.
    “That’s a horrible day for a launch party. Wednesday is better,” someone else said in the London office, the newcomer’s voice overstepping Melody’s remarks in that annoying half-second lag of trans-Atlantic calls done through Skype.
    “Wednesday would also be fine for Miss Austen,” Melody said, eager to move on.
    Mr Pembroke, perhaps sensing Melody’s annoyance, suggested, “Perhaps we could move on to the venue. The last we heard you were suggesting the Savoy.”
    There was longer than the half-second silence from the other end. “Well, that was floated here, but the expense … value for money …”
    Mr Pembroke smiled, not surprised at that reaction, and interjected, “The expense should not be a consideration, not where Jane Austen is concerned.”
    “Well of course,” the other side of the Atlantic confirmed. “No, we were just thinking … a false economy of course … yes the Savoy would be perfect. Or the Ritz. We can get a good price at the Ritz.”
    “I’m sure the Ritz would be fine as well,” Mr Pembroke confirmed. He pressed the mute button on the speaker.
    “I thought they might try to low ball this,” he confided to Melody. He was smiling broadly though, evidently enjoying promoting his last and most famous author. Melody smiled back at him, not sure whether the Ritz was a step up or down from the Savoy; both hotels sounded wonderful to her and she remembered them from
Notting Hill.
    He unmuted and continued: “By the bye, I don’t think we’ve gotten the invite list yet.”
    Again a pause from the other side that went on