Jane Actually

by her beauty and charm. Forever envious, Jane Austen.”
    Mary returned that copy as well and then could no longer ignore the many throat clearings of her friend.
    “Mr and Mrs Firth, may I introduce you to my best friend, my manager and agent, Melody Kramer?”
    Melody almost leapt from behind and Firth honoured her with the same low bow he gave Mary. Melody actually tittered with delight.
    Afterward, various pictures were taken including one with a space for Jane to stand. Hands were shaken and air kisses exchanged and finally, every photographic opportunity exhausted they left, and Mary suddenly felt tired.
    “Oh my,” Jane said. “I believe Hugh Grant is next in line.”
    1 The New York Yankees professional baseball team
    2 Andrew Davies wrote the script for several Austen adaptations, including the 1995 BBC production of
Pride and Prejudice

Chicago
Eighties hair
    M ary yawned. She was still recovering from the excitement of the New York launch the week before. It had been a repeat of the London book launch with different celebrities but the same receiving line, balls and endless photographs.
    This week, however, Mary and Jane were in Chicago without an entourage, driving to a mega Barnes & Noble store in the suburbs. Mary kept looking nervously at the empty seat beside her where sat, hopefully, Jane.
    “I’m still here, Mary. I simply haven’t said anything since the last time you asked if I was all right.”
    “Yeah, sorry, just a little nervous. And I don’t drive much.”
    “And it shows.”
    Mary turned to look at Jane, stung by her rebuke.
    “Keep your eyes on the road, Mary. I am sorry, but you handed me a straight line.”
    “A straight line? Is that proper Regency?”
    “No, I learned of the term from television. I do watch television, you know; I did even before the discovery, although it wasn’t until subtitles became common that I could enjoy it properly. I was quite addicted to murder mysteries, especially
Inspector Morse
. Oh, and American soap operas like
Dallas
and
Dynasty
were delightfully silly things. They reminded me of the theatricals of my youth with everyone declaiming.”
    Mary was surprised to hear the
doyenne
of English literature confessing her fondness for American trash TV, but it also suddenly gave her a connection to Jane.
    “I used to watch
Dynasty
on DVDs with my mom. It was pretty awful but she loved it. I mean the hair.”
    “And the clothes,” Jane concurred. “Those shoulder pads.”
    Almost in unison they said, “And the catfights!”
    “See, you are more relaxed now,” Jane said.
    Her words caught Mary by surprise. “What, all that was just to get me to relax?”
    “And it worked.”
    “You don’t really like
Dynasty?”
    “My dear, I am Jane Austen whose works have never been out of print since, well since some year that I’m sure some Janeite can recall, but I am sure it has been a very long time. Do you seriously suppose that I sat around after death watching Krystle and Alexis pull each other’s hair?”
    “No, no I suppose not. Well thanks, like I said, I was nervous.”
    “Might I ask why? I thought we had established a rapport.”
    “Oh sure, only now, you know, I’m responsible for you,” Mary said as she merged into traffic. Melody had not accompanied them on this trip, and now Mary was nervous about her charge. Jane had a habit of wandering off, which made navigating Midway Airport a nightmare. She could just imagine having to call Melody in a panic and saying, “I’ve lost Jane!” Being in the car with her was actually the calmest Mary had been in some time.
    “You were responsible for me in London. Were you not nervous then?”
    “Yes … but I was a lot more nervous about being you in front of movie stars and politicians and actual royalty. I’m just getting over that so now I have more time to worry about you.”
    “Excuse me, am I an invalid that you should be so concerned for me?”
    Mary turned her head to make sure there was no one in her lane and accelerated.
    “It’s like those parenting exercises in high school,” she said, not having paid adequate attention to Jane’s response.
    “Then I am a child for which you are responsible.”
    “What? No, oh God no.” Despite her worry that she had offended Jane she had to smile at the thought that Jane’s words recalled.
    “You look nothing like an egg,” she said after a moment.
    “An egg? You confuse me.”
    “Sorry, I couldn’t help thinking of those