Jane Actually

married Ann Frith two years after Jane had rejected him. She couldn’t begin to imagine why Jane, if in fact it were her handwriting, would have written “Journal of Jane Bigg-Wither.” She looked at the photo again, trying to see whether in anyway the “Jane” was actually “Ann,” but Austen’s first name was unmistakable.
    1 Famously, Dr John H Watson, friend and biographer of Sherlock Holmes, kept a battered tin despatch box in the bank vaults of Cox & Co. The box contained his unpublished adventures with the Great Detective.

London
Jane and Mary arrive at Heathrow
    T he young man holding the sign that said “Jane Austin” reminded Mary and Jane of the absurdity of their situation. For Mary, of course, it was an absurdity made even more unreal by the tiredness she felt after her long plane flight and then the long wait in customs while enviously watching frequent and first-class passengers jump ahead in the queue. But now to find a chauffeur holding a sign reading “Jane Austin” when she was specifically instructed to travel incognito and dress in casual clothing seemed particularly absurd.
    “I think I may be the Miss Austen you’re looking for,” she told the dark-skinned man holding the sign.
    “You the novelist?” he asked.
    “I am indeed,” she answered.
    “Cool. Let me take your bags.”
    She thanked him and handed him her two bags and he led them on their way to the ground transportation level at Heathrow where he’d left the limo. Jane followed close behind during all this, a little annoyed at being forced to follow the rules of the living. She never had to wait in line for customs and rather than walk anywhere in an airport she simply waited for one of those trolleys that shuttled the elderly and infirm and hopped on board. Of course, she’d never had a reserved seat on a flight before or a companion who looked out for her, and so must be content to follow Mary and the driver as they walked through the terminal. Consequently, she was constantly buffeted by the crowd and was thankful when they finally entered the privacy of the vehicle.
    After the driver entered, he looked into the rear-view mirror at his passenger. “I’m taking you to the …”—he looked down at a printout—“… Park International in Kensington?”
    “That’s right,” Mary confirmed with a smile to the driver. “Excuse me, what’s your name?”
    “I’m Tony.”
    “OK, thanks Tony. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got to make a phone call, tell my friend I landed safely.”
    “Oh sure, you go ahead.”
    Mary pretended to make a call so that she might talk to Jane without it looking odd.
    “Hi there. I landed safe in London, how about you?”
    “Really Mary? Is this charade truly necessary?” asked Jane’s voice through the earbuds.
    Mary sank bank in her seat and lowered her voice.
    “No, I already texted Melody that we’d landed. Oh, you mean the fake phone call! I get so tired of the odd looks I get when I’m talking to you. I guess my expression is different from someone talking on a phone, maybe because I keep looking at you. This helps disguise it a little bit.”
    “Very well, but do you not think the driver will eventually notice.”
    Mary looked up at the rear-view mirror and saw that Tony was already concentrating on his driving and also, judging from his rhythmic swaying, the music coming from whatever phone or music player was connected to the earphones he was wearing.
    “No, I think we’re safe. So, tell me a little something of where we’re staying.”
    “Do you refer to the hotel or the neighbourhood, for I know nothing of the former?”
    “The neighbourhood, Kensington. Isn’t it hoity-toity?”
    “No, not at all, although it does have a reputation for culture with the Albert Hall, the Victoria and Albert, the Natural History Museum and the Brompton Oratory.” 1
    “Wow, I have no idea what those are, but they sound hoity-toity to me.”
    “I am only sorry that instead of staying at the Ritz or the Savoy you must stay at this unnamed hotel.”
    “My goodness, Jane, I never knew you were a snob. Besides, wasn’t it your decision to put us up at the Park International?”
    “Not my decision. You may thank Melody for that. I would have you stay somewhere nice. I think Melody still hasn’t adjusted to the idea of a large promotion budget.”
    “I’m happy wherever I stay. I got a free trip to London out of this so you don’t hear me complaining. And I’m sure